Here is a very special recording devoted to early 18th-century dance music for which we have recently rediscovered choreographies from the period. Such a discovery may well come as a surprise, since it is not generally realised that, long before the proliferation of various 20th-century systems of dance notation, an earlied system had already been invented and them forgotten, only to be rediscovered within the last few years.

An ancient hero, a dragon, a young goddess: love and glory are at the heart of Lullys first opera, first performed in front of Louis XIV. As in his previous works - divertissements, ballets de cour and comédies- ballets - Lully makes the voices and the orchestra sparkle, multiplying the pieces which stand out and that were appealing to the court. But with the help of the librettist Philippe Quinault, he introduced the dramatic force of French classical tragédie in an exclusively musical work: and here the audience was bewitched by the mythical love stories so sumptuously portrayed.

John Kitchen continues his much-lauded series of recordings from the instruments of the world-famous Roger Mirrey collection of keyboard instruments. Recorded in St Cecilia's Hall, Scotland's oldest purpose-built concert hall, this programme is specifically designed to highlight the unique qualities of the 1755 double-manual harpsichord by Luigi Baillon. Built in Cyteux, Burgundy, it has a very different sound from Parisian instruments of the time; cleaner and brighter in tone, it is the perfect vehicle for Kitchen's subtly nuanced playing, which brings the sophistication of the period to new life.

Stéphane Fuget has a highly disciplined ensemble that brings out the depth and intricate layers of Lully’s music with fine diction (for the vocalists) and tempos that highlight the dramatic content…the performance is engaging and powerful, showing the pride and elegance of the French court of Louis XIV. This is one excellent disc and should be part of any collection.

Daniel Hope's new album "Dance!" reflects his boundless interest in the most diverse styles and periods of music. The star violinist takes the listeners on a journey through seven centuries of music history and explores the rhythms that have set bodies in motion and lifted hearts since time began.

Although Lully never held any post in the Chapelle du Roi, his influence on the development of the grand motet, so emblematic of the Grand Siècle, was of decisive importance. He wrote imposing motets celebrating the glory of God and the King for the great ceremonies at court. Of the many royal funerals, that of Queen Marie-Thérèse in 1683 was among the most grandiose. Lully’s Dies iræ and De profundis were sung there. But his most celebrated motet was undoubtedly his Te Deum, which rang out for the first time in 1677 and became the king’s favourite.

'Armide' is in the form of a tragédie en musique, a genre invented by Lully and Quinault, and was their last collaboration. It was a new form of opera that combined elements of classical French drama with ballet, French song and a new form of recitative. Critics in the 18th century regarded 'Armide' as Lully's masterpiece and it continues to be well-regarded, featuring some of the best-known music in French baroque opera and being arguably ahead of its time in its psychological interest. The subject, chosen for Lully by King Louis XIV, is the enchantress Armide’s unhappy love for the knight Renaud, drawn from Tasso’s 'Gerusalemme liberata'.

The present recording brings together various examples of night music from the European tradition and constitutes a kaleidoscope refracting the manifold facets of night. In tells of brilliant celebrations, nocturnal love dramas and desires, tender lullabies, ghosts, birds of the night and the most holy of nights. It is Antonio Vivaldi's music that is pivotal to our recording. Providing a bridge between his works and functioning as interludes are songs, diminutions, motets, madrigals, sommeils and chaconnes from Spai, the Netherlands, France, England, Italy, Germany and Austria.

Even by the supremely high production standards of Alpha recordings, this issue is especially splendid. Entitled Versailles, L'ile enchantée, it fully lives up to its name. As directed by Skip Sempé, the widely varied program features music written for Louis XIV's pleasure palace, performed by the Capriccio Stravagante Orchestra with mezzo soprano Guillemette Laurens and bass violist Jay Bernfeld. Each work is superbly selected, and every performance is absolutely idiomatic and wonderfully alive. There is wit and tenderness and elegance and, yes, nobility to their performances, which taken together form as much a portrait of the Sun King as the palace of Versailles itself.

This is an excellent and varied selection of composers from the very well known like Palestrina, Monteverdi, Bach and Vivaldi, through the less famous but familiar like Frescobaldi, Sainte-Colombe and Zelenka, to the downright obscure. It is all delightful: the musicians are uniformly excellent, and include such great names as Gustav Leonhardt, Cantus Colln, Christopher Hogwood and so on. They give fine performances both of the familiar works and of the less familiar ones. Obviously there will be discs you like more than others and you may already have favourite versions of some works, but these discs are never less than very good and are often outstanding.

Skip Sempé, distinguished for many years as a master interpreter of the French classical harpsichord repertoire, has recently been hailed as the quintessential ambassador of French Baroque music. With his ensemble Capriccio Stravagante, Sempé presents a fascinating collection of orchestral repertoire from the seventeenth century. La Belle Danse revives the tradition of the 24 Violons of Versailles the most celebrated orchestra of seventeenth century Europe. The album transports the listener to Versailles at the time of Louis XIII and Louis XIV with a dazzling tour of ouvertures and suites by Lully, Marais and Muffat. A selection of rare repertoire that influenced the first generation musicians of the 24 Violons is also included, with dance and theatre music by Michael Praetorius, William Brade and Luigi Rossi.

For approaching a century and a half in France – across the reigns of Louis XIV, XV and XVI – the Palace of Versailles played host, both indoors and outdoors, for an extraordinary sequence of dramatic musical performances. Un Opéra pour trois rois, conducted by György Vashegyi, represents the legacy of that time, a specially constructed operatic entertainment drawn from works by composers from Lully to Gluck, commissioned – and even, on occasion, performed – by kings, their queens and inamoratas.

The large-scale sacred music of the French court remains among the most neglected repertories of the Baroque era. Here's an excellent place to start with it. The Te Deum, the quintessential Catholic hymn of praise, was a favored text for big moments at court, and the two examples here must be among the finest. Jean-Baptiste Lully's Te Deum, LWV 55, during whose premiere the composer fatally stabbed himself in the foot with a staff, was composed to celebrate the Sun King's recovery, via a pretty ghastly surgery, from what appears to have been a severe case of hemorrhoids. The more cheerful occasion of Charpentier's setting was a French military victory in the Low Countries. In both cases you get full-scale splendor, with chorus, brass, and orchestra in harmonically static settings.

France and England had strong musical links during the reign of Louis XIV, with two Englsih sovereigns exiled to France, Francophiles and Francophones, Catholics and allies, linked by blood to their cousin, the Greatest King in the World. After the beheading of his father in 1649, Charles II sought refuge in France before regaining his throne in 1660 and imposing a musical style marked by the French example, in particular the creation of the 24 King’s Violins, and the Royal Academy of Music directed by the Frenchman Cambert! Then from 1689 to 1701, it was James II who lived in exile in Saint-Germain-en-Laye.

Cinq ans après Atys, Armide grâce à la sensibilité de Philippe Herreweghe est l’objet d’un accomplissement rare. Depuis Cadmus (1673), Lully travaille la déclamation chantée dont le meilleur exemple ici est dans les nombreuses langueurs qui étreignent le cour d’Armide, le célèbre « Enfin il est en ma puissance » (II,4), modèle de l’art lullyste, cité par Rameau pendant la Querelle des Bouffons (1753). Voici la seconde approche de l’ouvrage par le chef flamand. La lisibilité de la progression dramatique est assurée par la définition d’un orchestre, précis, fascinant, véritable acteur. Outre Acis (passacaille finale), ouvrage ultime, aucune ouvre à part Armide, n’exprime à ce degré, l’émotivité instrumentale de Lully.