Tag: Opera

Roberta Invernizzi, Accademia Hermans, Fabio Ciofini
78:02
Glossa GCD 922904
Music from Alcina, Berenice, Giulio Cesare, Giustino, Lotario, Poro & Scipione

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his CD draws upon the many queens who grace Handel operas, although also the chief female opera divas, Cuzzoni and Strada del Pò, whose technical skill and dramatic presences inspired the music for his most successful female roles. An extended and slightly laboured playing-card metaphor dominates the programme notes, which however also find time to paint in some context for these major female influences on Handel’s writing. Invernizzi is in splendid voice, characterizing Handel’s heroines with a wonderfully varied vocal palette. For some she finds an almost shrew-like quality in her versatile voice, for others a rapturous lyricism, and only occasionally did I find the mannered vibrato in her upper range disconcerting – she more than amply shows that she can sing pure upper notes, but is inclined to lapse into vibrato if these are held for any duration. This is a tiny and maybe idiosyncratic objection to a generally superb and extremely expressive voice.

Ms. Invernizzi is beautifully supported by Accademia Hermans, one of the veritable plethora of simply superb period operatic instrumental ensembles which seem to have sprung up over the last decade. They play with absolute unanimity and powerful expressiveness, and are given a couple of instrumental slots which provide a bit of relief from the otherwise wall-to-wall arias. These are all performances to savour, and are wonderfully evocative of the golden age of Baroque opera in the London of first half of the 18th century.

D. James Ross

Xavier Sabata, Armonia Atenea, George Petrou
66:00
Aparté AP143
Ariosti, Caldara, Conti, Handel, Hasse, Orlandini, Sarro, Torri & Vivaldi

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is an intriguing CD bringing recits and arias from early 18th-century operas by big names such as Handel and Vivaldi, other composers whose stars are currently in the ascendant such as Hasse, Conti and Caldara and relatively neglected composers such as Giuseppe Maria Orlandini, Attilio Ariosti and Pietro Torri. As soon as I put on the CD and heard Sabata’s voice, I instantly thought of Handel’s great castrato star Senesino, and strangely several of the arias recorded here were composed for him. Like Senesino, Sabata has a wonderfully rich low alto voice, as well as the gift for dramatic pathos which Senesino clearly also had. The programme notes make a valiant if not entirely successful attempt to tie the arias together using ancient Greek theories of drama, although the English translation unfortunately uses the word ‘hybris’ rather than the more customary ‘hubris’, and the whole construct is stretched ad absurdum in trying to embrace Hasse’s oratorio on the Conversion of St Agostini! I would have preferred more information on the relatively unknown but excellent composers whose music is recorded here, often for the first time. No matter, this is a wonderfully engaging CD, and while the various curious photos of various parts of Mr Sabata’s anatomy being drenched with water are undoubtedly intended to lend the product visual impact, this is a CD which more than stands on its considerable musical merits.

If the excellent period ensemble Armonia Atenea occasionally seem to occupy a slightly more distant and more resonant acoustic space than the soloist, their contribution is superbly dynamic and, in the haunting aria “Gelido in igni vena” from Vivaldi’s Farnace, positively apocalyptic. Listening to these powerful performances it is easy to understand how it was that Senesino and his fellow castrati occupied the cult status that they did, able as they were to reduce audiences to tears with their sheer vocal wizardry and musicality. These are characteristics which Xavier Sabata also has in abundance, and on the basis of this CD I have mentally added him to my list of remarkable male alto voices which this new generation has produced.

D. James Ross

Terry Wey countertenor, Bach Consort Wien, Rubén Dubrovsky (with Vivica Genaux mezzo-soprano &  Valer Sabadus countertenor)
74:40
deutsche harmonia mundi 889854105020
Music by Gasparini, Handel, Hasse, Pollarolo, Sarro, Torri & Vinci

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he concept of selections centred on great singers of the past has become popular in recent years. It is an excellent idea, not only as it provides a focus that might otherwise be missing, but – and more importantly – it can provide unique insight into the kind of voice possessed by a singer before we had the aid of recordings to determine such things. This is especially valuable in the case of a singer like the alto castrato Antonio Maria Bernacchi, whose fame rests principally, if perhaps unfairly, on a magnificent coloratura technique employed at the expence of expression.

Bernacchi was born in Bologna in 1685. After making his first operatic appearance in Genoa in 1703, he sang in 1709 in Vienna and Venice, the latter the city in which he would appear most frequently. But his fame rapidly spread throughout Italy and he was also engaged by Handel (at huge cost) in London, where he created the roles of Lotario  in the eponymous opera (1729) and Arsace in Partenope  a few months later. Eartlier, in 1720, he had been engaged by the Elector of Bavaria in Munich, service in which Bernacchi nominally remained until 1735. Particularly in his latter years he was known for his excessive obesity, a famous caricature depicting him having his stomach held up on stage by an extra. Bernacchi died in 1756, two decades after he had retired with a reputation on a par with the likes of Senesino and Farinelli, the latter of whom for a short while studied with Bernacchi.

The opening aria on the CD, ‘Pace e guerra’ from Pietro Torri’s Lucio Vero  (Munich, 1720) will do little to dispel Bernacchi’s repute as an exponent of virtuoso coloratura, although the opening word announces Swiss countertenor Terry Wey’s credentials with a finely graded messa di voce. Ironically the aria, like a number of the faster pieces, is taken at a rapid tempo, complete with fashionably clipped orchestral playing, that only serves to underline Bernacchi’s reputation and the rather vapid nature of the aria. On the plus side it shows Wey’s articulation of rapid passagework to be excellent, if rather less praiseworthy in communicating the meaning of the text. Here, as elsewhere, Wey’s ornamentation of da capo repeats is largely sensible, mostly avoiding the wilder ascents and leaps that so many singers appear to be unable to resist. Rather more interesting than ‘Pace e guerra’ and coloratura arias like ‘A dispetta’ from Gasparini’s Il Bajazet  is the number of slower, more expressive numbers that suggest Bernacchi’s talents were far wider than has been suggested. Among them are arias from the two London operas of Handel’s in which he appeared. Arsace’s ‘Ch’io parta’ from Partenop e is sung by Wey with great expressive sensitivity, while the exquisitely lovely ‘Non disperi peregrino’ from Lotario  is a ‘simile’ aria breathing calm spiritual advice, conveyed with eloquently sustained tone and line, though again I’m not entirely convinced Wey has captured the inner essence of the text. This repertoire remains full of undiscovered treasure, of which there are several examples included here, foremost an utterly wonderful duet from Hasse’s Demetrio, in which Wey is joined, as he is in several extracts, by mezzo Vivica Genaux. This is one of those pieces – originally written for Hasse’s wife Faustina Bordoni and Bernacchi – where Hasse’s extravagant reputation as an Italianate lyricist par excellence  is fully vindicated, a gorgeously flowing andante that synthesises passionate intensity with truly profound emotion.

Overall this is a highly satisfying CD. The repertoire, much of it new to CD, is often revelatory, while Wey is a sensitive, responsive singer who shows himself capable of holding a sustained line with security, even if tonally his voice is perhaps not the most distinctive or characterful. With the exception of the caveat regarding brittle, clipped phrasing in quicker numbers, he is well supported by the Bach Consort Wien. Lovers of Baroque opera should snap up the disc without delay.

Brian Robins

Sonia Prina Catone, Roberta Invernizzi Emilia, Kristina Hammarstrom Arbace, Riccardo Novaro Cesare, Lucia Cirillo Marzia, Auser Musici, Carlo Ipata
125:15 (2 CDs in a wallet)
Glossa GCD 923511

[dropcap]C[/dropcap]atone takes us into the murky world of the Baroque operatic pastiche, where overworked operatic composers such as Handel occasionally resorted to stringing together arias by his contemporaries with purpose-built storylines and recitatives. What is fascinating is whom Handel preyed upon. It is convenient that Leonardo Leo had staged a Catone opera in Venice in 1729, so Handel helped himself to a number of arias from this, while he also drew upon the fashionable music of Porpora and Hasse and even found some Vivaldi he could shoe-horn in. The choice of Porpora and Hasse is particularly interesting, as several of the castrati Handel worked with in London had sung their music, and they may even have already known the material he was now purloining – minimal time wasted on rehearsal! The present recording is an amalgam of several live concert performances and there is a fine orchestral sound and the singers are generally of a high standard. It is perhaps a shame in these days of the return of the superstar male alto that both castrato roles are taken by women – anybody who has heard Franco Fagioli sing one of these roles would regard any female voice, no matter how good, and these are both rather good, as a poor second best. What is certain is that this particular pastiche, and probably others which Handel confected for his London audiences, are well worth exploring and recording. Until recently, those in the know used to sneer at them, but when you consider that most Baroque operatic plots are pretty impenetrable and often deeply silly, this kind of synthetic opera is probably no sillier and has the virtue of presenting the best work of several fine operatic masters, moulded into shape by one of the finest composers of baroque opera. Certainly, in this engaging performance it was hard to spot the joins.

D. James Ross

Ensemble Cremona Antiqua, Antonio Greco
85:09 (2 CDs in a case)
Dynamic CDS 7770.02

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n the wake of Cecilia Bartoli’s 2013 exploration of Steffani’s operatic, sacred and instrumental outputs, this package offers us a complete recording of his opera Baccanali, composed in 1695 for the Duke Ernest Augustus of Hannover. The orchestra of the Ensemble Cremona Antiqua play one to a part, with two violins, one viola, cello, violone and pairs each of flutes (actually recorders) and oboes, all played with considerable finesse. The recording was made live at the Festival della Valle d’Itria, and there is considerable background from onstage movements, the audience and most distracting a considerable and pretty constant infrasound rumbling either from moving scenery or passing traffic. The live onstage singing is also a bit patchy, with some singers coping better than others with a clearly very active production. It is useful and interesting to have a complete Steffani opera available, and there are some undoubtedly lovely musical moments in this, but without the visuals to ‘explain’ the intrusive background noises, I found these very distracting to the extent that it was difficult to shut them out sufficiently to enjoy the music. So I can report that this opera seems to bear out the promise of Bartoli’s initial operatic samples – Steffani is definitely worth further attention, but this performance should have been taken into a recording studio to do Steffani and the musicians and singers justice. Another foolish economy was evident in the poor English translation of the programme note, replete with grammatical howlers. A missed opportunity.

D. James Ross

Paul Murrihy Orontea, Sebastian Geyer Creonte, Juanita Lascarro Tiburio/Amore, Guy de Mey Aristea, Xavier Sabata Alidoro, Simon Bailey Gelone, Matthias Rexroth Corindo, Louise Alder Silandra, Kateryna Kasper Giacinta, Katharina Magiera Filosofia, Frankfurter Opern- und Museumsorchester, Monteverdi-Continuo-Ensemble, Ivor Bolton
175:53 (3 CDs in a box with separate sleeve or booklet)
Oehms Classics OC965

[dropcap]F[/dropcap]ascinating to have a complete performance on CD of an opera by this composer so much more written about than performed. As one of the early advocates of opera, Cesti owes a lot to Monteverdi, but his music turns out both to be much less individual than his august predecessor, but at the same time more part of what would become the mainstream of Baroque Italian opera tradition. This is a live recording of the first performance made in Frankfurt Opera house, a house in which I spent many fruitful hours in my youth and where even then lavish and radical productions went hand-in-hand with cutting-edge authenticity in productions of Baroque operas. From the photos in the notes it is clear that the former tradition is in good health while the confident Baroque sound is also thoroughly convincing. There is furthermore very little background noise from onstage movement or audience to make one aware this is live, although the slightly stuffy sound of the orchestra makes it clear they are playing from a pit. Having said that, this a vocally sparkling and instrumentally convincing rendition of Cesti’s music full of drama and theatrical interaction. Like most opera companies in Germany, Frankfurt Opera are on a very firm financial footing – I was hugely impressed when they appeared recently at the Edinburgh Festival fielding an entire Baroque orchestra for Dido and Aeneas  to replace it at the interval with a large modern instrument orchestra for Bluebeard’s Castle  – and all these forces on tour! This recording is of interest particularly to aficionados of early Italian opera, but I think it stands on its own as a fine performance of an operatic masterpiece.

D. James Ross

5455

[Elena Biscuola Alcina, Mauro Borgioni Ruggiero, Gabriella Martellacci Melissa, Francesca Lombardi Mazzulli Sirene/Una Damigella, Emmanuela Galli La Nunzia Oreste/La dama disincantata, Raffaele Giordani Nettuno/Un Pastore/Una Pianta incantata, Yiannis Vassilakis Fiume Vistola/Astolfo,] Allabastrina, La Pifarescha, Elena Sartori
79:10
Glossa GCD 923902

[dropcap]B[/dropcap]efore I write my review of the recording, a disclaimer: the edition used in the performance is my own. It never ceases to amaze me that working on a piece of music for several years (as I have with revisions and corrections of the score of Caccini’s work, after performances and workshops have cast new light on it), no matter how many times one listens to it in Sibelius, and no matter how good the sound of digitally sampled instruments has become (even the wordless “singers” are quite convincing), there is no way a computer can ever compensate for human performance. Starting with the different colours instruments and voices can produce at the whim of the performers, obviously. So, hearing this short opera for the very first time has been an utter revelation. This is a lavish co-production between two ensembles with violins, recorders, viols, cornetti, sackbuts, theorboes, “arciviolata lyra” (as the score requires), harpsichord and organ; sometimes the score is very specific in its demands, while at others unlabelled instrumental staves leave the choice of colours to the musicians themselves. Elena Sartori has made some judicious choices (including allocating two voice parts to recorders in a coro di damigelle), and similarly shrewd alterations to the running order, as well as supplying music by other composers to accompany the balli referred to in the source. The singing – solo and ensemble – is excellent throughout with some characterful renditions of the parts, which help the listener to follow the action. Despite a relatively large number of continuo players, there is none of the kaleidoscopic approach which has dogged many a HIP production of late; each section (and often sequence of sections) maintains the same soundscape. They also relish Caccini’s occasional harmonic boldness, without it becoming the centre of attention. Ultimately this is a very fine performance (and recording) of a work that really does deserve to be more widely known.

Brian Clark

Raquel Andueza soprano, Xavier Sabata countertenor, La Galania
67:31
Anima Corpo AEC 006
Duets & Arias from La Calisto, Elena, L’Egisto, Eliogabalo, ’Erismena, Giasone, Gli amori d’Apollo di Dafne, LL’Ormindo, Pompeo magno & La Rosinda

[dropcap]R[/dropcap]ecitals devoted to extracts from Cavalli operas are comparative rarities, and I can call only one other recent example to mind, a Glossa CD with La Venexiana. It is significant and a measure of the rich diversity to be found in Cavalli’s substantial body of operas – there are 33 – that there is no overlapping of repertoire with this new disc featuring Spanish artists. However, as we will see, there are similarities between the two in other respects.

As anyone who has seen any Cavalli opera knows full well, whatever the background story they are dominated by one topic – love, ‘miracolo d’amore’. Or perhaps we might more pithily say, sex, exploited by Venetian 17th-century opera in general and by Cavalli in particular with an unashamed abandon that it would take the 20th century to emulate, but then usually in a far less subtle manner. So among these duets and arias we find love with all disparate variants: lustful desire (‘O mio cor’ from act 1 of Giasone, 1649), the lament for lost love (‘Misero, così va’, set over a ground bass, from the violent and never-performed Eliogabalo, 1667), playful love (‘Amante, sperate’ from L’Egisto, 1643) and so forth. The lion’s share of extracts are taken from Giasone, rightly described by Lorenzo Bianconi in his notes for the complete Jacobs recording as ‘the most highly acclaimed, the most reviled opera of the Italian 17th century’, the most acclaimed because it was revived more often than any other Italian opera, the most reviled because it was a serious mythological story treated, as some literary scholars saw it, in a flippant manner. Long after Cavalli’s death it would be used as a big stick to change the entire course of Italian opera. But that’s another story. Here there are four extracts devoted to the love between Medea and Jason, though Giasone’s ‘Delizie, contenti’ (act 1) is addressed to the joys of love generally rather than the mother of his twins, whose identity at that point in the opera remains unknown to him.

One reason recitals of extracts from Cavalli’s operas are infrequent is that they are far more context-specific in ways that later opera seria  is not (think ‘simile aria’). This, too, is an era when words still dominated the music – prima le parole, doppia la musica – and while Cavalli was a wonderful melodist, as is readily apparent here in the irresistible ‘Dolcissimi baci’ from La Calisto, 1651), this is essentially music for actor-singers. In this respect soprano Raquel Andueza is here the superior. She starts with the advantage of a lovely voice that in more intimate, sensual moments takes on that slightly darkened, husky timbre that seems unique to Spanish sopranos. You need hear only the way she sings the words ‘baciata o baciante’ (kissed or kissing) from Medea’s ‘Se dardo pungente’, for example, to be utterly seduced by Andueza. Unfortunately there is a downside and it’s a serious one in that she seems totally oblivious of the need to add any ornamentation. Given that a number of these pieces are in strophic form, it seems extraordinary that neither she nor anyone connected with the recording found it incongruous that she was happy to repeat each verse with no variant. In this respect the countertenor Xavier Sabata is superior, as is amply demonstrated by the final line of ‘Or che l’aurora’, very stylishly ornamented by Sabata, but ignored by Andueza when her turn comes. Indeed Sabata’s singing is beautifully controlled throughout, but as already indicated there’s a fly in the ointment with him too, his vocal acting and concern for text (or lack of it) leaving something to be desired.

The accompaniments are on the right scale, with two violins and violone plus a continuo group including archlute, theorbo and, anachronistically, double harp, though surprisingly there is no harpsichord, where one would expect two. The playing is good, though the violin playing belongs to the 18th rather than the 17th century. Curiously I’ve found all the reservations about the present CD correspond exactly to those on the disc mentioned above, where the soprano was Giulia Semenzato and the countertenor the excellent Raffaele Pe. A further black mark for the texts in the booklet, published over photographs that at times render them virtually illegible. Ultimately, then, both CDs provide satisfying collections that with greater care taken over stylistic matters might have been more highly recommendable.

Brian Robins

Anna Prohaska soprano, Il Giardino Armonico, Giovanni Antonini
70:10
Alpha 250
Music by da Castrovillari, Cavalli, Graupner, Handel, Hasse. Locke, Purcell & Sartorio

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he idea of devoting opera recitals to characters is fairly recent. It’s an excellent one, too, since it encourages us to think more about the person being portrayed and the various aspects of their character. Most notably we’ve had award-winning recordings devoted to Semiramide by Anna Bonitatibus’ and to Agrippina by Ann Hallenberg. Now soprano Anna Prohaska turns her attention to arguably the two most famous of all operatic heroines, Cleopatra and Dido. Beyond the fact that both are African queens who took their own lives they have little in common: one is fact, the other mythological; one is a femme fatale, a byword for her sexual allure and playful approach to love, the other a wife who has remained loyal to her dead husband and also the archetypal abandoned woman.

The present selection concentrates on operas spanning a period from the mid-17th century to the mid-18th century. The earliest comes from Cavalli’s Didone  of 1641, a scena  addressed not to Aeneas but Iarbas, the would-be lover rejected in Virgil, but who in fact wins Dido’s hand in the lieto fine  of Cavalli’s mixed-genre opera. The next Dido  opera is Purcell’s from which there are two extracts (‘Ah Belinda’ and of course Dido’s lament), while the are four extracts from Graupner’s first opera, Dido, Königin von Karthago, first given in Hamburg in 1707, one an intensely dramatic and trenchant tempesta  aria in which Dido compares herself with a storm-tossed ship, a favourite conceit. Indeed it is repeated in the coloratura aria for Araspe, the confidant of Iarbas, in his aria from the most famous of all Dido librettos, Metastasio’s Didone abbandonata  (set more then 60 times) in Hasse’s version of 1742.

The earliest Cleopatra opera here is a rarity, La Cleopatra  by Daniele da Castrovillari, a Venetian Franciscan monk and a name new to me. First given in Venice in 1662, it is his sole surviving opera. Not surprisingly, the long scena  in which Cleopatra prepares for death is suggestive of the music of Cavalli, but the vocal ritornello scheme is interesting, the piece overall compelling. Dating from 15 years later, the two arias from Sartorio’s Giulio Cesare in Egitto  of 1677 show Cleopatra in light-hearted, kittenish mood, in complete contrast to ‘Se pietà’ from Handel’s 1724 setting of the same libretto by Francesco Bussani, the greatest of all Cleopatra operas. Just a year later comes Hasse’s serenata Antonio e Cleopatra, one of his first dramatic works. ‘Morte col fiero’ is a fiery show of coloratura defiance in the face of death.

I have mixed feelings about the performances. The German soprano Anna Prohaska sings a wide variety of roles and is not particularly noted as an exponent of early opera, though she has sung Poppea in Handel’s Agrippina. On the plus side the vocal timbre is lovely – creamy and lustrous without being too fulsome for this repertoire. At their best, as in the central section of ‘Se pietà’ or, perhaps more surprisingly, the Cavalli, these are most engaging performances. She copes well with coloratura as well, the showy ‘Morte col fiero’ in general coming off successfully, though there’s a nasty screamed top note in the da capo  repeat. But what worries me more is a tendency to slide down off the note in slower, more sustained music, often making the music sound lugubrious and heavy. Prohaska’s pitch in general is not infallible, while her diction is not all it might be either and although she overall shows a good grasp of ornamentation her attempted trills are apt to sound like bleating.

This being Il Giardino Armonico we expect and indeed get some eccentricities, some not especially helpful to the singer. Antonini also does some tinkering with some of the scores, not being able to resist adding recorder parts (played by himself) to several of the scores. But the actual playing, both accompanying Prohaska and in a number of instrumental interludes, is of the highest quality. Several of these seem to have been chosen arbitrarily, it being difficult, for example, to see the relevance of Matthew Locke’s incidental music to The Tempest  in this context. Still, it does provide an opportunity to hear some ravishingly rapt playing in the Curtain Tune from the Second Musick, an account that comes into the category of ‘naughty but (very) nice’. Not perfect, then, but plenty to appeal to anyone interested in Baroque opera.

Brian Robins

Stage music by Jean-Baptiste Lully
Les Paladins, Jérôme Correas
72:30
Glossa GCD923509

[dropcap]A[/dropcap]s one might expect, these ‘bleeding chunks’ are mainly by Lully (extracts from six comédie-ballets), though items from Charpentier’s Le Sicilien  and Le Mariage forcé  are also included. I must say that the singers show great versatility in their ability to convey the essence of their several roles, though bass Virgile Ancely needs a little more weight in the lower register and, as usual for me, the soprano’s vibrato can be disturbing. More disturbing, however, is the use of a questionably disposed chamber ensemble – 2 each of violins and violas with basse de violon  – rather than Lully’s famous orchestra with the three inner parts on assorted violas. I just feel that this rips the guts and/or the grandeur from most of the music: it just isn’t the Lully I know and love and I doubt that he’d have thought much of it either. The booklet offers tri-lingual notes (Fre/Eng/Ger) but the sung French texts are translated into English only.

David Hansell