Month: April 2015

James Gilchrist Evangelista, Matthew Rose Jesus, Ashley Riches Pilatus, Elizabeth Watts, Sarah Connolly, Thomas Hobbs, Christopher Maltman SATB, Choir of the AAM, Academy of Ancient Music, Richard Egarr

AAM Recordings AAM004

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he Academy of Ancient Music with Richard Egarr have also released a 1727 Matthew Passion, which in many ways is very different from Peter Seymour’s Yorkshire Bach Soloists. Here the current orthodoxy of eight voices is set aside in favour of two choruses of ten voices each and four distinctly soloistic soloists, who, together with three ‘character parts’ – Evangelist, Jesus and Pilate – never sing with the chori. This means that the chorus numbers – especially the turba choruses can be, and are, sung extremely fast and cleanly – there’s no trace of a wobble here. Only once did I find myself really querying the elasticity of their fluent tempi changes, and that was in “Andern hat er geholfen” – the turba chorus that taunts Jesus on the cross. But sometimes they outpace even the admirable and mellifluous Evangelist, James Gilchrist, who sings to the accompaniment of a fairly full continuo section. In the surviving score of the early version, copied by Altnickol’s pupil c.1755, the one bass section serves as a joint bass line for both orchestras. Richard Egarr clearly plays the rather mellow harpsichord with the Evangelist, but why is there another one? Two harpsichords to one organ seems an odd balance.

Chorales are also brisk; not merely unsentimental, but fast and direct. In the opening chorus, at a rhythmic, swinging pace, the chorale is played (correctly) on the organ alone, (like the chorale in Cantata 161: Weimar 1716, where the Sesquialtera is also called for) although the Klop organ which boasts an 8’ wooden principal doesn’t run to the specified Sesquialtera – a pity, as some of Klop’s do: and the tempo hots up for the sharp staccato exchange between the choirs – a foretaste of things to come. The variations in tempo indicated in this early score for “O Schmerz” for example – un poco allegro for the choir II chorale – are exploited to the full, and indeed the playing is so assured and confident that there can be a good deal of rubato in the movements – beautifully done by the flute, Rachel Beckett, in “Aus Liebe” for example. This confidence and rhythmic fluency – evident in the soloists (for that’s what they are) too – is the hallmark of this recording. Sarah Connolly stretches many phrases in “Erbame dich”, and the solo violins in each band are accompanied by the string of the opposite group: an indication of single strings originally perhaps?

For me, the weakest voice is Matthew Rose, the bass who sings Jesus. His voice is much plummier than the others, and he makes Jesus sound rather portly and elderly. The tenor Thomas Hobbs is wonderfully clean by comparison and Christopher Maltman sings beautifully in “Komm süßes Kreuz” with the lute and just the organ in this early version, evoking the domestic side of Lutheran piety to perfection.

So there is much to commend this beautifully crafted performance: only in her last phrase did I find Elizabeth Watts’ wobble on the sublime “Tausend Dank” unbearable. But it was clearly all very much meant and even if this isn’t my favourite version there can’t be enough takes – especially now that the 1727 material is readily available – of the Great Passion.

For those who would like an early version Matthew, there is a choice between these two versions. The AAM one is more polished, and a lot faster. The YBS is less hurried, and has a far finer Jesus; its soloists are the singers of the chori, so in many ways it is more ‘proper’, and it is on 2CDs in a standard package. But the slicker and glossier presentation – even if the scholarly evidence is less to the fore: why can’t all directors and writers of liner notes quote their sources, and give us helpful references to the instruments being used (as is done on the AAM set) and on the temperament chosen for the keyboards? – may win friends for the AAM. I would listen to both, and find a pair of contracting performances like these unusually instructive.

I should add, so that it is clear where my own preferences lie, that neither of these displace Paul McCreesh’s Gabrieli Consort recording from 2003 (though it is of course the later version) made with the splendid organs in the cathedral at Roskilde at the top of my list of Matthew Passions.

David Stancliffe

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Georg Philipp Telemann, Christoph Graupner, Johann Sebastian Bach
The Bach Players, dir Nicolette Moonen, Rachel Elliott S, Sally Bruce-Payne A, Simon Wall T, Matthew Brook B
132:11 (2 CDs)
Hyphen Press Music 008
Georg Philipp Telemann: Laß vom Bösen und tue Gutes TWV 1:1038, Wer sich rächet TWV 1: 1600, Overture in F sharp minor, TWV 55: fis 1
Christoph Graupner: Aus der Tiefen rufen wir GWV 1113/23a, Gott führt die seinen wunderbar GWV 1115/24, Ouverture in C minor GWV 413
J.S. Bach: Jesus nahm zu sich die Zwölfe BWV 22, Jesus schläft, was soll ich hoffen BWV 81

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he interesting idea behind these two CDs packaged together is to give us a snapshot of what three jobbing musicians were producing at a fairly pivotal moment in their careers. Two and four years older than Bach respectively, both Graupner and Telemann were schooled at Leipzig, outlived Bach and both produced far more that the Bach output that has survived. Telemann, C.P.E. Bach’s godfather, was Leipzig’s first choice in 1722 but didn’t want it, Graupner couldn’t be released from his post at Darmstadt, so they called Bach for interview. It is instructive to hear how ‘modern’ Graupner’s music already sounds at this stage – more melodic and ‘orchestral’ in a modern sense. Telemann has obviously been influenced by the Italian and French music to which he had been introduced. Beside them, Bach’s unusual scoring, free way of illuminating the texts both Biblical and poetic, shaping them with recitative, aria and duet as well as chorus all vary the texture and intrigue us. Bach’s theological creativity makes the others seem less imaginative about the text; they already have half a foot in a symphonic future where the general mood of a piece can be reflected, rather than each word or theological concept prized.

Each CD contains an instrumental piece – by Telemann on the first and by Graupner on the second. Otherwise the Telemann cantata on the first, probably written in 1719, was performed in the Thomaskirche in 1725, while those by Graupner and Bach were their audition pieces. The link between the three on the second CD is that they were all written for the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany in 1724 – three treatments of Jesus stilling the storm, the gospel for that day.

These two CDs – recorded a year apart – offer us a chance to stand back and question our settled assumptions about Bach’s magisterial primacy, but at the same time to reaffirm what a very distinctive and unique voice – as well as a somewhat old-fashioned one – he offers. The players in the Bach Players – one to a part strings, with a pair of oboes/recorders and a bassoon and a keyboard – cultivate a beautifully clean tone, which some of the singers match better than others. Simon Wall is the cleanest, and it is easiest for his kind of light tenor voice; but both Matthew Brook and Sally Bruce-Payne are equally convincing both when singing singly and as part of the vocal ensemble and suggest hidden depths. Rachel Elliott as always draws the short straw: it is so much more difficult for a soprano to match the clean and almost steely tone of the violins and still sound both interesting and musical: she does really well but has to work hard to give that clean clarity in the chorus passage work and a steady tone in the homophonic passages before switching to a more soloistic vocal style in her (rather few) arias. This is my only uncomfortable moment with these quality performances, and perhaps it is because Nicolette Moonen herself gives no quarter. I like it, but it is very hard to match vocally.

The recording is close – you can hear every bow stroke as it was played; and the balance between strings and wind, instruments and voices is beautifully judged. The photographs showing how they stood in live performances may not reflect how the recordings were achieved, but a group like this, performing cantatas as intimate chamber music, never has to force their sound. This is a huge advantage over large-scale performances directed ‘at’ rather than performed ‘among’ their listeners.

As always with this group’s production there is a minimalistic package, concealing a very well researched and intriguing essay by Hugh Wood with Stephen Pedder giving both the background to these auditions and a detailed analysis of the music. This is programme planning of a high order, and we are lucky to eavesdrop on their performances.

David Stancliffe

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Tommaso Rossi, Ensemble Barocco di Napoli
58:54
Stradivarius STR 33969

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he Neapolitan composer Leonardo Leo (1694-1744) is best known for his sacred music and for operas both comic and serious, but seven sonatas for recorder and continuo by him survive in a manuscript from the collection of the Austrian Harrach family. One of its members, Aloys Thomas Raimund Harrach was Viceroy of Naples between 1728 and 1733, at a time when the recorder was still extremely popular there in spite of the rise in popularity of the transverse flute. This is the first recording of this attractive set of sonatas. They all have the same pattern of four movements, alternately slow and fast, but these tuneful pieces are never dull. Additional variety is given by the use of different instruments for the continuo of each sonata, archlute, cello, harpsichord and even bass recorder in different combinations. The booklet notes by Tommaso Rossi cram a great deal of information into a small space, and the occasional awkward translation and the lack of a clear distinction between the paragraphs make them a slightly difficult, though interesting, read.

Victoria Helby

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Raffaella Milanesi S, G.A.P. Ensemble
74:10
Pan Classics PC 10324
Caldara: Risoluto son già tiranno amore Piani: Violin sonatas op1/1, 3, 9
A. Scarlatti: Appena chiudo gli occhi Vivaldi: Lungi dal vago volto

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he title of this recording is something of a marketing ploy – yes, Piani was one of the most highly paid musicians in Vienna but the violin sonatas on the disc were published in Paris before he was employed by the Habsburgs; Alessandro Scarlatti and Vivaldi’s connection was as composer to a particular residence, but how many times did they actually encounter the emperor? Caldara, of course, deserves his place on the programme though I am not sure what he would have made of this performance of one of his many cantatas… Giovanni Antonio Pieni (G.A.P., as in the ensemble’s name) published his op. 1 (a set of 12 violin sonatas) in 1712, nine years before he began almost 40 years of Viennese service. They build on the Corellian model but have not the stature of Locatelli, Veracini or even Geminiani. They are, however, all I can conscientiously recommend about this CD.

The problem is not the singer’s voice per se, but rather one of balance; the aggressive opening chords of the Caldara recitative and the “dramatic” interpretation that ensues from singer and continuo alike in my opinion distorts the music, pushing it to the very limits of good taste, especially with regards to tuning. In the arias, the single sweet-toned violin struggles to compete with the full-blooded operatic voice, and when the music has to slow down – not only for the entire “B” section, but also for some of the vocal coloratura – that really is too much; it was scarcely less uncomfortable, listening to the violinist’s efforts to draw not only more volume but also drama from his instrument.

Brian Clark

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