John Mark Ainsley Alessandro, Sarah Fox Aminta, Ailish Tynan Elisa, Anna Devin Tamiri, Benjamin Hulett Agenore, Classical Opera, Ian Page
117:12 (2 CDs)
Signum SIGCD 433
[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t is fascinating how this early opera from Mozart’s Salzburg period already includes many of the elements which would come to full fruition in the later great operatic masterpieces of his maturity. In spite of the stylised context, Mozart makes a real attempt at musical characterisation, and the orchestration is varied with a generous range of instruments made available by the Salzburg Archiepiscopal purse.
Ian Page’s sizzling account of the overture prepares for the delights to come as the overture segues flawlessly into the opening aria for Sarah Fox’s Aminta. The effortless elegance of her singing is perfectly matched by Ailish Tynan’s Elisa, and indeed the small cast of five principals, including John Mark Ainsley, Benjamin Hulett and Anna Devin are all superb. While the singing, like the playing, sounds absolutely authentic, there is a pleasing sense of freedom and a palpable joy in the music. Hulett’s effortlessly lyrical account of Agenore’s aria “Per me rispondete” is a case in point, where he conveys the character’s mixed emotions but at the same time clearly enjoys Mozart’s exquisite melodic writing. Listening to this wonderful music so beautifully performed it is amazing to think of Mozart’s employers, who repeatedly failed to recognise the unique talent of the man who was supplying them with such sublime fare. The two CDs are accompanied by a packed booklet including the full libretto and English translation as well as a comprehensive programme note, incorporating the latest research on the opera.
Edited by Barbara Neumeier. iv + 24pp, €24.50.
Carus 27.081.
[dropcap]I[/dropcap] had long been aware that the Gloria a8 wasn’t of obvious Monteverdian origin. The English text uses the term autograph, which in our language usually implies that it was written by the composer, whereas otherwise a term like copyist is used. However, the German term is handschriftlich, which is wider in meaning. What worries me more, however, is that it doesn’t have much relationship with Monteverdi’s music, and the Gloria a8 doesn’t come anywhere near the 1610, 1641 and 1650 Masses. The scoring is for two choirs, each C1 C3 C4 and F4, with three continuo bass parts identical apart from copying slips. It might sound better with a different composer’s name! I’ve edited vast amounts of Monteverdi’s church music, and if anyone had asked me to publish it, I’d have done so as an unknown composer from Naples. There are already two editions, though in larger volumes, and one version I’ve had in my computer for some time.
There are sections with fewer parts, the voices of each choir being of the same range, except for a trio of ATB in choir II for “Domine Deus”: this shoud be described as ATB II. The listing of the rest of the index (p. ii) would be clearer as SATB, SATB than SSAATTBB. The continuo part is very simple, and could have been a useful elementary exercise for those wishing to play from the bass, with simple figuring added.
It is significant that the Kritischer Bericht has no reference to Monteverdi, whereas the editor mentions Monteverdi in general terms in the first paragraph and specifically in the first sentence of the second, and the publisher went too far on the title: the title should surely have been something like ?Monteverdi?. Apologies to Carus, a publisher for whom I have enormous respect.
Matthew Rose, Arcangelo, Jonathan Cohen
77:06
Hyperion CDA68078
Music by Martín y Soler, Mozart, Paisiello, Salieri & Sarti
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he current enthusiasm among record companies for operatic recitals centred around a famous singer of the past is a welcome development. Not only does it make for greater contrast than the traditional composer recital, but it can also provide excellent clues as to the nature of some of the great voices of the past. Indeed, the examination of the music composed for a particular singer to determine voice type and range, etc., has itself become a musicological study. Here listeners, if so inclined, can play the game for themselves. So what can we learn from this CD about the great buffo bass Francesco Benucci, who was born about 1745 and is today best remembered as the creator of Mozart’s Figaro and Gugliemo in Così fan tutte ? Well, in keeping with the character of buffo roles one might suggest that Benucci’s talents lay in characterisation and flexibility rather than overt virtuosity. The obvious need to project text clearly necessarily results in a predominance of syllabic settings that cover no great range – ‘Se vuol ballare’, for instance covers a range from C to F1; we can gather from the climax of the cabaletta of that aria, too, that Benucci had a powerful voice capable to bring off an impressive climax, a quality also to be heard here in Gugliemo’s splendid showpiece ‘Rivolgete a lui’, an aria Mozart replaced in Così fan tutte because of its length. We cannot of course guess at the quality of Benucci’s voice, but it was especially valued in Vienna, where Benucci sang from 1783 until 1795, while a German critic wrote of its ‘beautiful, rounded quality’ while also praising his acting for its ‘propriety’ and lack of vulgarity.
In addition to the arias from Figaro, Così and Don Giovanni – in which Benucci sang the first Viennese Leporello in 1788 – we are also given arias from roles created by him in Vienna from Salieri’s La grotta di Trofonio (1785), Axur, re d’Ormus (1788) and Martín y Soler’s hugely successful Una cosa rara (1786). Giuseppe Sarti’s I contrattempi (Venice, 1778) is particularly interesting for being the first opera in which Benucci created a role. Here the characterful recitative and aria ‘Oime! che innanzi agli occhi – Pensa, che per morire’ finds his character Frasconia trying Papageno-like to pluck up courage to commit suicide. Also of note are extracts from the two Salieri operas: Trofonio’s mock ‘ombre’ scena ‘Ch’ite per l’aere’ is clearly a parody on Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice, complete with chorus of spirits, while ‘Idol vano’ offers a rare opportunity to hear a more serious aria composed for Benucci in the mezzo caraterre role of Axur, the greater degree of coloratura strikingly apparent in the context of other arias on the CD.
So how does British bass-baritone Matthew Rose fare with the ‘Benucci test’? Rather well, actually. The voice can certainly be described as having a ‘beautiful, rounded’ quality and it is evenly produced across its range, with an admirable lack of intrusive vibrato. Rose also brings a sense of character to the roles he is portraying (never easy in a recital) – I particularly like the sense of malicious fun intimated in Leporello’s ‘catalogue’ aria (let’s not forget there is more than an element of his master in the servant’s make-up) – and there is certainly a sense of propriety in not concluding ‘Se vuol ballare’ an octave higher than written. I feel Benucci would have probably been more precise with his ornaments (the single trill Rose attempts is a half-hearted effort) and would probably have sung more of them. Mention also needs to be made of the admirable cameo appearances of sopranos Katherine Watson (as Dorabella) and Anna Devin (as Zerlina). Rose is admirably supported throughout by a rather larger Arcangelo than we usually hear. The wind and brass departments boast some of London’s best period instrument players, who relish the opportunities given them by Mozart’s wind writing. Jonathan Cohen’s direction is notable not only for the sympathetic support given to Rose, but the spirited, acutely observed performances of the overtures to Figaro, Don Giovanni and Paisiello’s hugely successful Il re Teodoro in Venezia (Vienna, 1784), from which it might have been appropriate to hear an aria. Still, with a playing time of 77 minutes one can hardly complain about what is not on a disc that achieves the rare distinction of being both of great interest and thoroughly entertaining.
Chansons populaires du 19ème siècle
La Clique des Lunaisiens, Arnaud Marzorati
67:03
Paraty 615223
[dropcap]P[/dropcap]ierre-François Lacenaire (1803-36) became something of a cult figure when, on trial for multiple crimes, he endeavoured to project himself as a campaigner for social justice. This recording is as much a Façade/Pierrot Lunaire style quasi-theatrical entertainment as it is a purely musical experience: I’d love to see it, but it made a rather odd listen. His writings are part sung to popular tunes of the day and part read/declaimed and are placed in the context of other pieces he knew or referred to. It doesn’t really fit our usual parameters so I have not awarded any stars, but I’d really recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in this period of French cultural history. David Hansell
The King’s Singers : The Consort of Musick
105:00 (2 DVDs)
Arthaus Musik 109123
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his double DVD set is something of a blast from the past. Deriving from a BBC arts documentary series made in 1984, it does what it says on the tin, taking us on a comprehensive and engaging tour of the history of the madrigal as it spread throughout Europe. The King’s Singers in their mid-eighties manifestation are musically at the top of their game, and the members also reveal their latent talents as presenters, at which they are singularly adept. The account of the madrigal’s development is liberally interspersed with musical examples sung by the Singers, and played, sung (and acted) by The Consort of Musicke, whose director, a youthful Anthony Rooley, also contributes to the discussion. The scholarship is thorough though not overwhelming, and its generalised nature means that little of it has been superseded, while the performances are generally good if not quite up to 21st-century standards. On my copy the sound quality tended to shrink away in quiet passages, to return when the volume revived, but the recorded sound is generally good.
The visuals by contrast have dated badly. A generally sepia tone pervades all the location filming, which is otherwise informative and atmospheric, while the Singers themselves are captured in embarrassing sixties rock-star leather jackets – ironically the Consort of Musicke’s more traditional suits have better stood the test of time! Overlooking such gratingly dated aspects, this is an engaging and informative programme of the sort which the BBC excelled at, and there is a wealth of vocal music to enjoy here, most of it expertly contextualised and explained: around twenty minutes into the first DVD there is a note-by-note explanation of the Petrarchan madrigal Valle, che de’lamenti miei by Giaches de Wert – first the poem is read and then as the Singers perform it, we see on a moving score what is happening while a voice-over explains how the music is complementing the text. On my copy, and I fear on every other, there is a passage towards the end of the madrigal where a tape malfunction leads to an alarming pitch wobble under one of the spoken explanations – I can’t imagine this was allowed to pass in the original programme so must be a mistake in the transfer process. However, this is a minor blip in a worthwhile project.
[dropcap]I[/dropcap] first got to know these pieces intimately at unversity, where they were a “set work” in my first year at St Andrews University. Latterly I had been re-acquainted with them, often playing them with my much-missed friend, Selene Mills, at her home in Cambridge. I fear we never sounded anything like this! Is there anyone active today more immersed in Purcell’s musical world that Robert King and his King’s Consort colleagues?
Two young violinists and an experienced continuo team combine perfectly to produce a CD of rare beauty and endless reward; where some seek to draw attention to the architecture of Purcell’s complex contrapuntal writing or irregular phrases with sharp accents and dramatic changes in dynamic, these performances are more subtle and more relaxed than any I have ever heard. The music unfolds in an organic way, the counterpoint, the rather awkward sounding melodies and harmonic piquancy readily audible but not hightlighted artificially. Robert King’s ever thoughtful booklet note not only gives all the background you could ever need to the set’s genesis, he also provides a work-by-work guide in which (thank goodness, for once!) readable English – and presumably French and German, too – rules. Like the diamonds on the packaging, this release is every bit the precious gem. Do not miss it!
University of Rochester Press, 2015. xii + 402pp.
Boydell & Brewer, £65.00.
[dropcap]R[/dropcap]auzzini (1746-1810) was born in Camerino (or Camerano), about 40 miles south of Ancona and roughly west of Assissi, half-way across the peninsula. He accepted castration when eleven. He studied with famous singers and his dramatic career began in Rome in 1764. He was not extremely powerful, but he had subtle skills and he often wrote his own music. He performed in major theatres from 1765 in Rome, Venice, Munich and Vienna and was the leading “man” in Mozart’s Lucio Silla (Milan, 1773). Mozart also wrote Exsultate, jubilate for him.
Rauzzini arrived in London on 19 September 1774 and his first performance in Armida, a pasticcio, was first heard on 8 November. He was not well, two performances were cancelled, and his second appearance was on 19 November. He did his best. When cured, his singing was fine, though if he had a high note, he ran up with short notes to the top and descended to a final note. In Piramo e Tisbe (1775) he was probably the first castrato to sing in one of his own operas in London: there were also performances in Vienna, Brunswick and Bologna. The information concerning the Overture is confusing, with paragraphs on pp. 37 & 38 and footnotes 40, 42 & 43. The list of operas (Appendix B, pp. 354-6) includes the European ones, but it omits the later L’eroe (1782), Creusa (1783), Alina (1784) & La Vestale (1787), even if they are pastiches – though they are listed in the index with the other Rauzzini operas; La sorpressa (1779) is not on the list and indexed under “vocal music”. It is odd that Rauzzini’s Operatic Roles (Appendix B) omit five titles, even if they are not complete works by him.
Rauzzini settled in London, but made many visits to Bath. Its social and artistic life began with Beau Nash early in the 18th century. At first the regular musicians were natives. Chilcot published 12 English Songs around 1744 – well worth buying (Kings Music/Early Music Company), and the Linleys – father and six sons. William Herschel was an astronomer and an organist, Henry Harrington was a physician and a glee composer. J. C. Smith Jnr moved to Bath along with Handel’s manuscripts. His concert programmes in Bath from 1786-1810 are listed in Appendix A, filling pp. 287-353 with the titles grouped compactly in two paragraphs each for the first and second half. I was surprised to see Handel’s Funeral Anthem, presumably for Queen Caroline, which was probably performed to mark the 50th anniversary of her death. The Dec. 6 1786 performance was performed as at Westminster Abbey “by Desire”. The Bath lists of performers are similar to those in London, and Rauzzini retained his activity there, though his reputation declined, particularly with problems with another singer. I suspect that his performances in Bath were more relaxing.
Rauzzini was happiest in performing and later composing the standard Italian opera practice. He wasn’t full-blooded, and was probably best at more gentle roles, and he managed fairly well in his composition. The chance of operatic revivals are slim – perhaps Piramo e Tisbe is the most likely to spread now. It is, though, difficult to value a composer of whom I have never heard a note – and I don’t think that over the 20 years of Early Music Review I can remember any reviews, in which I proof-read every note, and my much longer The Gramophone, though I don’t have to proof-read it!
The preface is a survey of the social problem for castrati: despite being men in nearly every respect, they can’t mix with men or women without great care.
Clifford Bartlett
I’ve taken from Paul Rice the list of instrumental and small-scale vocal music, and it would be well worth making it available. His published music is certainly competent, but I’d rather see the quartets in proper scores. It would be useful if the whole set were published, with separate parts added.
Rauzzini published 8 sets of instrumental music published by Welcker:
op.1. Six favourite Sonatas for the Piano forte or Harpsichord. With an Accompaniment for a Violin 1777. [The Welcker parts was in score with the piano, but a later French edition had a separate violin part.]
op. 2. Six Quartettos for two Violins, a Tenor and Bass. 1778.
op. 3. The Favourite songs, Rondeaus, DUETTS & CHORUS, in the OPERA LE ALI D’AMORE 1778. [Full score]
op. 4. La Partenza: a Cantata composed by Sigr.: Venanzio and Sung by Him and Miss Storace at the Opera House 1778.
op. 5. Twelve Italian duettinos, for two voices with a thorough bass. 1778.
op. 6. Six Quartettos for the Piano Forte or Harpsichord with Accompaniments for two Violins and a Bass. 1781
op. 7. A Second Set of Six Quartettos for two Violins, a Tenor and Bass. [1780]
op. 8. Six Sonatas for the Piano Forte or harpsichord. With an Accompanyment for a Violin. [1781]
Then followed:
op.9. Six Favorite Italian Canzonets, with an Accompanyment for the pianoforte. Blundell [1781]
op. 10 & 11 unknown.
op. 12. Three Grand Duets; for two performers. Beardmore & Birchall, 1783.
op. 13. Four Favourite Italian Duets for a Voice… also, four Easy Airs. R. Birchall [1784]
op. 14. Six Italian Canzonets, with an Accompanyment for the Piano Forte. J.Bland [1785]
op. 15. Three Sonatas and a Duet for the Harpsichord or Piano-Forte with an Accompanyment for the Violin Ad Libitum. Birchall and Andrews [1786], reissued by Goulding & Co c.1800.
Motets from the Hiller Collection
Sächsisches Vocalensemble, Matthias Jung
70:25
Carus 83.269
[dropcap]A[/dropcap]ny recording featuring the Sächsisches Vocalensemble and/or Matthias Jung is always worth hearing. Seven of the 17 tracks on this recording of motets from his printed anthology of a cappella motets are world premiere recordings (three of them by Hiller, including his arrangement of Jacob Handl’s famous “Ecce quomodo moritur justus”). Composers represented included such important figures as Homilius, Carl Heinrich Graun and Rolle, but also lesser-known composers as Penzel, Reinhold and Fehre.
In truth, in listening I was definitely unaware of any sudden shift in standard! It certainly helps that the singing is exquisite, and Jung ensures that he makes the most he can from the material in front of him. Here I think micro-management pays dividends with absolute unanimity of delivery throughout – a glorious choral sound like this does not come easily. Choirs looking for new repertoire will be glad to hear that the music is available from Carus, too.
German Advent Songs
Miriam Feuersinger soprano, Daniel Schreiber tenor, Les Escapades
72:41
Christophorus CHR 77387
[dropcap]F[/dropcap]or this delightfully refreshing selection, the viol consort Les Escapades and their guests have raided the rich treasury of German music for Advent from the late 15th to the early 18th centuries. The recording features plainchant as well as Advent songs, in which each successive verse appears in settings by different composers, interspersed with instrumental episodes. The singing from soprano Miriam Feuersinger and tenor Daniel Schreiber is beautifully lyrical, and both singers always sound as if they have something urgent to convey to the listener. The viol consort, occasionally supported by guest organist Evelyn Laib, plays impeccably both on its own and as a beautifully effective and sympathetic accompaniment to the singing. The composers range from household names such as Isaac, Praetorius and Lassus to the more obscure figures of the German Renaissance such as Andreas Raselius and Balthasar Resinarius, and herein lies the chief virtue of this programme, which has managed to resurrect music long lost to the mainstream and restore it side by side with the more familiar repertoire – and as so often with this type of exercise it is hard to find any reason other than luck why some repertoire should be remembered and some forgotten. This CD is a lovely listen, and I would challenge anybody to differentiate on the basis of quality between the least and the most familiar music here.
Sacqueboutiers, Ensemble Clément Janequin, Dominique Visse director
68:54
Flora 2410
Music by Attaignant, Bataille, Bertrand, Compère, Costeley, Janequin, Josquin, Lassus, Lejeune & Sermisy
[dropcap]F[/dropcap]or those acquainted with their work, it comes as no surprise that the Ensemble Clément Janequin have had a long association with the works of Rabelais. Their 1994 CD Une fête chez Rabelais was in itself the result of a successful concert programme, and this present CD was also preceded by a series of live performances. Such is the wealth of surviving Renaissance French chansons that the two CDs only have one chanson in common. The Sacqueboutiers, who nowadays have dropped their regional identifier ‘de Toulouse’, provide a forthright accompaniment for many of the numbers and some impressive instrumental numbers, while the singers, led by their distinctive alto/director Dominique Visse, present splendidly characterised performances of the songs. Over the years the Ensemble have made this area of Renaissance music their specialist realm, and their grainy, robust singing often skirting on the raucous, seems to me just right for the present project. Another major delight of this package is the selection of splendid readings largely from Rabelais’ Gargantua performed by the versatile-voiced Vincent Bouchot. It is unfortunate that the reader’s voice is given such an artificial studio acoustic, contrasting uncomfortably with the ‘live’ acoustic of the music, but Mons. Bouchot’s splendid Renaissance pronunciation carries all before it. Anglophone listeners will find the lack of translations a disadvantage, although the full texts of songs and readings are provided in French. The otherwise lavish accompanying book has excellent programme notes (in French only) and wonderful illustrations, some of the period (including the wonderful crumhorn-nosed figure on the cover), some designed specially for the publication.
