François Fernandez & Luis Otavio Santos violins, Laurent Stewart harpsichord/organ, Eduardo Egüez theorbo, Rainer Zipperling, Kaori Uemura & Philippe Pierlot bass viol
Flora 0705
+ two sonatas by Philippus Van Wichel
[dropcap]U[/dropcap]nlike other Flora releases, this excellent CD (recorded way back in 2005) comes complete with a booklet note, not only telling us all about the composers (in French, German and English), but also with detailed track and cast lists! Two violins, up to three bass viols, theorbo (who also has one solo) and harpsichord/organ perform a range of works including five trio sonatas and two sonatas a4. They are all in the familiar patchwork style of the late 17th century, with imitative sections juxtaposed with more chordal passages. On this evidence, both Hacquart and Van Wichel deserve to be better known; if some of the more dance-inspired tracks are a little four square, the freer movements have a breadth and sense of architecture about them that should encourage ensembles to take up the challenge – with a few harmonic surprises to keep them on their toes!
[dropcap]O[/dropacp]n this CD the Japanese Ensemble Anthonello follow the progress of the chaconne from its inception as the Chacona in South America through Spain to Italy where the Ciaccona became all the rage, influencing French composers to compose more sedate Chaconnes. With its insistent rhythms and repeating bassline, the Ciaconna gained something of a raunchy reputation, and Ensemble Anthonella provide delightfully spicy renditions of their cross-section of Ciaconas. Their vocalist Midori Suzuki has a beautifully pure voice which blends perfectly with director Yoshimichi Hamada’s cornett as well as the group’s two recorders. Also among the instruments used are an arpo doppio, beautifully played by Marie Nishiyama, while Rafael Bonavita contributes some fine Baroque guitar sounds. The two recorder players have a delightfully free approach to their lines, using various flutterings and glissandi to bring their parts to life. This is a lovely CD which brings a wide range of music by familiar but mainly unfamiliar composers vividly to life, and I was surprised to note that the original recording was made in 2000 – I hope that this is a reissue and that it hasn’t been languishing in Christophorus’s ‘to do’ tray for fifteen years. The cover depicting dancers at the Dowager of Bilbao’s Ball in 1626 is also a delight. A little gem.
Iberian Organ & Choral Music from the Golden Age
Martin Neu (organ of San Hipólito, Córdoba), ensemble officium, Wilfried Rombach
54:48
audite 97.713
Music by de Arauzo, Coelho & Zaraba
Our two reviewers are in broad agreement:
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his CD of freely composed works and diminutions of originals is performed by Martin Neu on the 1735 Corchado organ of the San Hipólito Church in Córdoba. This instrument was recently dismantled and completely rebuilt, restoring its original tuning and temperament but preserving most of the original pipework, so it is able to produce some startlingly original timbres to enhance the music of 17th- and 18th-century Spanish composers Diego Xaraba, Manuel Rodrigues Coelho and Francisco Correa de Arauxo. Drafting in the ensemble officium to provide vocal alternatims allows Neu to present some of the music in a liturgical context, although the CD’s promise of Organ and Choral Music from the Golden Age is a little disingenuous as the singers only supply plainchant and two short sections of albeit beautiful polyphony. The highlight for me was Arauxo’s Tiento on Morales’ Batalla, a work which has been unfortunately lost. Neu makes fabulous use of the venerable instrument’s trumpet stops to evoke the full excitement of the 17th-century battlefield.
D. James Ross
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he real star of this fine recording is the magnificent 18c organ of the church of San Hipólito, Córdoba, dating originally from 1735 and superbly restored, using most of its original pipework, in 2006-7. Martin Neu puts it through its paces in a well-chosen selection of 17th- and early 18th-century music by Correa de Arauxo (of Seville) and Rodrigues Coelho (of Lisbon), along with an anonymous Tiento from a manuscript in Madrid. This latter opens the disc in fine style, with blazing Trompetas Reales much in evidence. Neu is joined by ensemble officium in two alternatim pieces by Coelho, a gentle Tone 1 ‘Versos de Kyrie’ with schola singing the ‘Cunctipotens genitor Deus’ chant, and a more extended setting of the well-known ‘Ave Maris Stella’ hymn, both showing the intimate relationship of organ and voices in ‘ordinary’ service music of the period. Ensemble officium also provide attractive fauxburdon-like verses of the Marian hymn ‘Todo el mundo en general’ contrasting with Correa de Arauxo’s Tres Glosas. The disc concludes with Arauxo’s lively ‘Tiento Tercero de Sexto Tono’, based on a (lost) Batalla by Morales, itself based on Jannequin’s famous chanson, giving the wonderful reed stops another moment of glory. Most enjoyable.
Amandine Beyer & Leila Schayegh violin, Jonathan Pešek violoncello, Jörg-Andreas Böttcher harpsichord/organ and Matthias Spaeter “liuto attiorbato”
72:48
Glossa GCD922514
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his fine recording combines four sonatas from Caldara’s op. 1 trios (1693) with five from his op. 2 of six years later. Broadly speaking, each of the four movement works (except op. 2/12 which – in a direct reference to Corelli – is a chaconne) from the first set are cast in the “da chiesa” style, while the others consist of a Preludio and a sequence of “dances”. He may only have 23 when his name first appeared in print, but he had definitely mastered the Roman trio sonata medium, and indeed was prepared to embellish it by liberating the role of the violoncello. The performers take this fact and the knowledge that the composer was – amongst other things – a reputed master of the instrument as justification for improvised links between sections by the cellist; while that may or may not actually have been the case, I doubt that 17th-century players spent enough time rehearsing to make decisions about when one musician would take on that responsibility, and when another – here the plucker is, for my tastes at least, a little invasive. In fact, the booklet notes discuss the fact that there are four books for each set, but with slightly different designations of the two bass part; for op. 1 one is for cello, the other for organ (and yet the latter role is played on harpsichord and lute!), while the plucker’s presence is fully justified in op. 2 by the lable “Tiorba o Violone”, while the other is “Basso continuo”. So much for my gripe about the scoring… The playing is absolutely first rate, and the recorded sound perfect – each of the individual parts can clearly be heard, and the balance between treble and bass is well handled. The violinists, of course, are excellent – they toss Caldara’s melodies back and forth with gusto, and their ornaments flow naturally from the composer’s elegant lines. I doubt my wish would come true, but I would love a companion disc with the missing sonatas!
[dropcap]J[/dropcap]ohann Kuhnau was the revered predecessor of Bach at Leipzig, and Bach reissued his Clavier-übung there shortly before he began to publish his own collection. A remarkable polymath, Kuhnau studies and wrote on Hebrew and Greek as well as more modern texts, and is probably best known now for his motets like Tristis est anima mea, which Bach incorporated into one of his composite Passions, and the cantatas like Gott, sei mir gnädig for four part voices and five-part strings or Uns ist ein Kind geoboren (formerly attributed to Bach as BVW 142).
But his keyboard works are many and diverse and among them the most distinctive are the six Sonate Bibliche, published in 1700 and achieving considerable commercial success. Kuhnau did not specify which type of keyboard might be suitable for which sonata, but here they are all played on the Gottfried Silbermann organ of the Dom in Freiberg which dates from 1714, where Elias Lindner, Kuhnau’s pupil, was the organist. Some of the smaller works included on these three discs together with the seven sonatas of the Frische Clavier Früchte are played on the single manual Silbermann organ of 1722 in the Marienkirche at Rötha. These sound more like a set of instrumental sonatas in the style of Corelli, while the larger Biblical Sonatas have a more mixed parentage that combines Buxtehude with a more naturalistic, Italianate, descriptive style.
The subjects of the Biblical Sonatas are all Old Testament in character, revealing Kuhnau’s interest in Hebrew, and are I imagine what the composer might have improvised had the great Silbermann organ been set up in the cinema of the day. Lots of flashing D major arpeggios and trumpet calls are the prelude to martial music celebrating David’s triumph over Goliath and the Philistines, or Gideon’s surprise attack. This is frankly rather predicable extemporisation! Rather more interesting are the sombre scenes – Saul’s rage and David’s soothing harp-playing; or the Tomb of Jacob, where we hear some of the melodic lines for which Kuhnau was famous, Hezekiah’s lament, which has some sustained development of a musical theme rather than a few conventional rhetorical flourishes, and some imaginative use being made of the strings, flutes and reeds for which the organ is renowned. Snatches of Lutheran chorales float over the Hebrew landscape like birds of prey, waiting for the kill. But overall, I found the playing, though worthy and accurate, rather uninspiring. Only Silbermann’s Vox Humana and a breathtakingly slow-beating tremulant depicting ‘The Burial of Israel, and the Sorrowful Lament of Those Present’ made me sit up. This is vulgar programme music, and it needs more of an extrovert showman to bring off its rather conventional gestures.
Stefano Molardi has recorded a lot for Brilliant Classics, including the whole of Bach. Those who have no other keyboard music by Kuhnau and are keen to understand the surprisingly broad range of keyboard music being published as J. S. Bach was getting into his stride will be glad to have these CDs, played on this wonderful organ. Those whose interests are less specialised may want to sample them before committing to this substantial listen.
Antonio Giovannini Rinaldo, Gesche Geier Armida, Marie Friederike Schöder Almirena, Florian Götz Argante, Yosemeh Adjei Goffredo, Owen Willetts Eustazio, Cornelius Uhle Mago cristiano, Compagnia Marionettistica Carlo Colla & Figli, Lautten Compagney Berlin, Wolfgang Katschner
DVD of the puppet action (137’+10′)
Audio recording (2 CDs)
Arthaus Musik 102207
[dropcap]A[/dropcap] charming and, as far as I am aware, unique recording of Handel’s London debut opera with marionettes, and – better still – a real attempt at Baroque staging. As the excellent sleeve notes explain, marionette performances of opera have a long and distinguished history- and with a production as good as this, one can understand their attraction. Visually, it is a delight- the costumes are suitably sumptuous, and the sets absolutely terrific. Armida arrives, as advertised, in her dragon-drawn chariot, and Almirena gets abducted by a deliciously evil-looking spirit. I particularly liked the seascape at the beginning of Act 2, with the seductive sirens swimming to and fro, and the equally charming garden with Almirena and assorted Birds in Act 1. Scene changes are instantaneous, as they should be, so that Handel’s dramatic key shifts- eg where Rinaldo surprises Armida in Act 2- have their proper effect. Armida’s transformations into Almirena, later in the same act, are beautifully realised- especially when she catches Argante out as he woos the wrong lady! The later scenes of Act 3, with the march-pasts of the rival Christian and Moorish armies, Rinaldo’s bravura ‘Or La Tromba’ and the subsequent ‘battaglia’ are splendidly dramatic, and Handel’s four trumpets and drums make their presence well felt.
Musically, it is a strong performance. Antonio Giovannini is a heroic Rinaldo – his Act 2 ‘Abbruccio, Avvampo” is especially thrillingly done, and ‘Cara Sposa’ in Act 1, after Almirena’s abduction, is hauntingly lovely. Gesche Geier, as Armida, is fire-spittingly good in her opening ‘Furie Terribili’, and wrings the heart in her Act 2 ‘Ah, Crudel’, with its plangent oboe and bassoon obbligati. Marie Friederike Schoder’s virtuous Almirena is a fine contrast- her Act 2 ‘Lascia, ch’io pianga’ is mesmerising. Florian Gotz as Argante blazes in in Act 1 with ‘Sibillar gli angui d’Aletto’, and is a fine foil for Armida in their Act 2 duet. Yosemeh Adjei (Goffredo) and Owen Willetts (Eustazio) prove musically muscular Christians, and Cornelius Uhle is a sonorous Mago. Schroder and Geier also double as the Sirens in Act 2- I don’t think I’ve ever heard their delicious ‘Il vostro maggio’ better done. Wolfgang Katschner’s tempi feel exactly right, and the band follow his energetic conducting with absolute confidence.
There are a few caveats. Most musically serious is the frequent truncation of da capo arias – ‘a’ section, ‘b’ section, then merely the ritornello of the ‘a’ section. The orchestration is tinkered with from time to time, e. g., recorders are used in the gigue of the overture, which rather spoils their surprise appearance in ‘Augeletti’ later on; there is also liberal addition of tambourine and castanets. The filming occasionally feels disjointed – there are frequent shot-shifts between the marionette onstage, the “real” singer backstage and the orchestra or conductor. A couple of times the stage business (eg during the Battle in Act 3) is filmed as if from the puppeteers bridge, which spoils the ‘full frontal’ Baroque effect.
Overall, however, this is a fine achievement, both musically and visually. It would be fascinating to see further operas done so – imagine ‘Orlando’ or ‘Alcina’ with similar staging!
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is a clever re-packaging of two separate recordings in which the Heinichen masses were coupled with Handel’s Dixit Dominus and Bach’s Magnificat. I hope this means that Heinichen’s music is now well-enough known that it no longer needs the presence of a “big name” to sell it! In fact, in no way does either of these works pale into insignificance even alongside such accepted masterpieces – Heinichen, after all, held the Dresden job that Bach so coveted, and there is much in his choral music that recalls Handel at his best. There are Italianate arias (the Quoniam Tu solus from Missa No. 11 is for tenor, two horns and strings, and the Christe eleison from Missa Nr. 12 for soprano, alto, oboes and upper strings would be worthy of a place in any opera of the period!), declamatory choruses, and plenty of catchy fugal choral writing. Indeed, this music is ideally suited to choirs, and with all the D major pomp of horns and trumpets (not to mention flutes, oboes and recorders!), these two masses would make excellent Christmas concert pieces.
Legacy of the land of Basque
Euskal Barrokensemble, Enrike Solinis
57:15
Alia Vox AV9910
[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n a brief introduction to this disc Jordi Savall announces that the Alia Vox label, hitherto devoted to projects associated with his own stable of groups, is to branch out into presenting work by similar groups. This CD presents music of the Basque region performed by the Euskal Barrokensemble and includes a bewildering and fascinating range of music given lively performances. Like many of Savall’s own projects on Alia Vox this has its virtues and its vices.
Among the virtues are the superbly detailed programme notes – a virtual novel attached to the CD once translations in English, French, German, Catalan, Castilian and of course Basque have been included – the excellent recorded sound, the generally classy presentation, and the fact that little of the music has ever been recorded before. Among the vices are the rather blurred lines around authenticity – some of the improvised numbers here have a distinctly modern blues flavour – resulting often from the traditions of oral transmission, and the desire to contribute to a rather imaginative presentation of the past. Unlike many of Savall’s projects focused on one individual musical tradition, this CD has a much greater variety, which prevents a unified impression of ‘Basque Music’ from emerging, but perhaps suggesting that here is something more genuine, alive and eclectic. The performances are generally convincing (I found the lack of a listing in English of the instruments something of a frustration), although one or two of the readings are given an unfortunately high-tech voice-over immediacy. We look forward to Alia Vox Diversa’s future exploration of the music of neglected cultures and regions.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) Symphonie g-moll… Symphony in G minor, 1st and 2nd Version, KV 550, edited by Henrik Wiese
Breitkopf & Härtel (PB 542), 2014. 68pp, €26.90.
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he Neue Ausgabe sämtlicher Werke, Serie IV, Werkgruppe 11: Sinfonien Band 9, vol. 12 was published in 1957, edited by H. C. Robbins Landon. Editions from the 1950s and 1960s were the result of enthusiasm at discovering MSS that had either been unknown or, in many cases, not fully considered.
The significance of a new No. 40 has changed ideas on the logic of first composing the score without clarinets then later adding them. This is not to say that Mozart started with oboes and clarinets and then removed the clarinets, but Wiese argues that the third version is a return to abandoning the clarinets with minor alterations of flute and of strings in their place. The changes primarily concern with the Andante. Page 26 & 34 has two versions, but otherwise the edition is clear and avoids printing two versions throughout. There are two pairs of oboes notated: the first, in smaller print, is for the first version, below that the second version is in standard print. It seems that the editor assumed the normal difference of 1st and 2nd version rather than giving some status to the third version. The small print of the Prefaces (German and English) means two compressed pages, but the musical text is fine. It saves a lot of cross-checking from editions which come in two versions (e. g. Bärenreiter), but it must be confusing for conductors if they are using different versions.
I like to sample a part or two to give some idea of what they look like. In this case, it wasn’t particularly helpful – I received a Violin I part where only bars 29 & 100 of the Andante have variants. (The oboe and clarinet parts are presumably more complicated.) The publisher is careful to indicate a sensible page-turn in the last movement with a dotted line across the page and a pair of scissors. Squashing 14 lines into a page is a bit tight if the players like thorough pencil marks, but there are advantages in avoiding page-turns. This is a valuable improvement.
Mary-Ellen Nesi Farnace, Sonia Prina Tamiri, Roberta Mameli Gilade, Delphine Galou Berenice, Loriana Castellano Selinda, Magnus Staveland Aquilio, Emanuele D’Aguanno Pompeo, Orchestra of the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, Federico Maria Sardelli
151′ (2 DVDs)
Dynamic 37670
[dropcap]F[/dropcap]arnace was first performed at the Teatro S Angelo in Venice in February 1727 and frequently thereafter in other cities. The plot of the libretto by A M Luccini is a sequel to the story of the struggle of Mitridate, king of the Hellenic kingdom of Pontus, against Roman occupation. That struggle has now been taken up by Farnace, his elder son, who like his father has problems with an enemy within. Berenice, the mother of his wife Tamiri, is a Roman sympathiser seeking the destruction of Pontus and its rulers as revenge for her husband’s earlier death at the hands of Mitridate. It’s a plot that allows not only for political and amorous intrigue, but also sly digs at Roman imperialism, always a popular topic with Venetian audiences.
The present DVDs were filmed at performances at the Teatro del Maggio Musicale in Florence in May 2013. They represent yet another depressing episode in the dismal failure of attempts to mount opera seria on the contemporary stage. The performance employs what is laughingly touted by Dynamic as a ‘critical edition’ by Bernardo Ticci. Googling ‘Farnace Ticci’ produces the rather more accurate description ‘arr. B Ticci’. Suspicions are immediately aroused by the discovery that Ticci’s edition is cast in two, not the standard three acts, a format never used by drammi per musica (opera seria). Comparison with the original 1727 libretto reveals that not only has there been a reduction from 27 to 23 numbers, but that after the first few numbers of act 1, what is performed bears no relationship to the libretto or indeed to that of the 1737 version recorded by Jordi Savall. Most damaging of all, Ticci contrives a spurious tragic conclusion by having Farnace sing ‘Gelido in ogni vena’, an aria from later versions of act 2 in which he laments the supposed death of his young son at the hands of Berenice. Since we have no evidence the child is dead (he certainly isn’t in the original libretto), the whole farrago of nonsense strikes an utterly false note. I strongly suspect, too, that there has been considerable tampering with the orchestration, though have not been able to find a score on-line to check.
The production is little better, dark and dismal in the literal sense, with stark post-modernist tubular erections at various angles supplemented by various oddities such as what look like upright florescent tubes and, at one point, an array of illuminated doughnuts. An apron, on which a number of arias are sung, is built out from the stage around the orchestra. Most extraordinary of all is that almost all arias are sung at music stands in the fashion of a concert performance. Whether this is supposed to be some kind of observation that the arias in opera seria are a static form, I have no idea, but it looks absurd when done in a fully staged production. It does, however, have one advantage, which is that there is therefore mercifully no stage ‘business’ during arias. Costumes are largely dowdy but serviceable, with the Romans distinguished from the locals by their wearing of breastplates, though to comical effect by the proconsul Pompeo and legionary Aquilio, both of whom for some bizarre reason wear a dinner jacket over their breastplate.
It is sad (and not to his credit) to find one of the finest of today’s Vivaldi conductors involved with such fatuous stuff. Federico Maria Sardelli’s direction has all the drive and intensity we have come to expect from him in the composer’s music, although even he cannot disguise the patently obvious modern instruments of a large contingent of Maggio Musicale strings. The cast, including some outstanding Baroque singers as it does, deserves better than this miserable effort. I except the tenors who sing the roles of Aquilio and Pompeo; their contribution is best passed over in polite silence. Mary-Ellen Nesi is a strong, incisive Farnace, pursuing the mental cruelty to which he subjects his long-suffering wife with relentless ferocity, though the voice does sound as if it is being pushed at times. Sonia Prina is a splendid Tamiri, resolute in the face of the threat to her young son, deeply affecting when she believes she has lost him. Among the most telling moments are the confrontations with her mother Berenice, superbly sung and acted by the French mezzo Delphine Galou, the only one of the cast who suggests she understands gesture. Loriana Castellano’s Selinda, the sister of Farnace, is capably sung, but while Roberta Mameli sings stylishly and winningly, her Gilade is marred by some undisciplined singing in the upper register.
Vivaldi may not be among the best Baroque opera composers – his output is today overrated in my view – but Farnace is one of his better operas. It certainly deserves much better than it gets here.
