Author: EMR2015

Fiori Musicali Austria
62:19
Gramola 99279

‘With this album Baroque Arabesque the ensemble Fiori Musicali Austria invites a variety of thought-experiments’ – I open my review with a sentence from the programme note as it perfectly sums up what this CD is aiming to achieve. At a time of mass migration, the musicians are conjecturing about cultural interactions in earlier centuries. They alternate tracks of Sephardic folk music and other traditional music with eastern elements with mainstream western Baroque music by composers such as Caccini, Athanasius Kircher, Handel, Tomaso Vitali and Couperin. So far so good, but actually if they had left it at this, the obvious contrast between the two idioms is considerable – this is where the thought-experimenting comes in. The group’s percussionist, who plays a seminal role in the traditional music, is let loose on the Baroque music, ‘Arabesquing it up’ in a way which to my mind is entirely implausible. The most extreme example of this is the group’s version of Tornami a vagheggiar from Handel’s Alcina, where a lovely Baroque aria is well and truly put through the mill with oud and percussion additions triggering some alarming responses from the group’s vocalist and other instrumentalists. We can’t of course say categorically that performances of this kind of mainstream Baroque repertoire never took place, but this is surely modern ‘makey-uppy’ performance practice of the most ridiculous kind. I have been consistently critical of lazy attempts to overlay music of one cultural genre with the practices of another – more than once I have felt that the great Jordi Savall has engaged in cross-cultural fantasy at the expense of the music – but this thought experiment is of another order. Shoe-horning oud and ethnic percussion into the self-contained world of Baroque music is at the same time unconvincing and pointless. I do hope that Fiori Musicali Austria spend more of their time engaging honestly with early repertoire, as their performances are not without merit, but sadly this project seems to me a misconceived and fundamentally dishonest waste of everybody’s time.

D. James Ross

Spanish Baroque & Mexican Folk Music
Maria Cristina Kiehr, Krishnasol Jiménez, Roberto Koch 51:30
Brilliant Classics 96205

This CD arose from the quest of three musicians based in South America to explore the Spanish roots for their folk music. The already distinctive son of much Spanish music in the 16th and 17th centuries underwent further transformation on contact with the Spanish colonies in Mesoamerica, most notably the jarocho music of Mexico. Krishnasol Jiménez plays the famous Stradivarius ‘Sabionari’ guitar of 1679 (beautifully illustrated inside the CD package), while Roberto Koch improvises a bass line on a colascione, a sort of three-stringed bass lute employed in folk music and also known as the liuto della giraffa on account of its long neck! The sound of these two plucked instruments in combination with Maria Cristina Kiehr’s pure and expressive soprano voice is very pleasing. I find it interesting that these musicians from Mexico, Venezuela and Argentina respectively, performing with a genuine New World perspective, take a much more restrained approach to the Mexican idioms than do many Old World musicians. Their performances are often languidly charming rather than spikey with cross-rhythms, although at the same time, I don’t want to make them sound dull – where appropriate they are infectiously toe-tapping. There is even a bit of ‘body-tapping’ of one of the stringed instruments – one would hope of the colascione rather than the venerable guitar. Perhaps it is the participation of this priceless survivor, which dictates the generally respectful approach of the performers. In any case, the performers’ backgrounds and musical experience as well as the instruments they employ give their performances of this repertoire considerable authority, and this minimal ensemble of three performers has a delightful completeness about it.

D. James Ross

Claire Lefilliâtre soprano, Luc Bertin-Hugault bass, Les Épopées, directed by Stéphane Fuget
77:06
Ramée RAM 2302

‘The true character of those who love is composed of tenderness and plaintiveness. They possess a languid air […]. All the words of a true lover, even if he is not unhappy, always have a plaintive tone’. Thus the Abbé Charles Cottin in his Œuvres galantes (Paris, 1665). It’s an eloquent description, perhaps rather more appropriate to what we hear on the present disc than its given title – For Happiness in Love.

The songs here belong to the category of airs serieux, works designed for the salons of Paris and which may be seen as a monodic successor to the fundamentally polyphonic air de cour. They are by Joseph Chabanceau de La Barre, a member of a distinguished French musical family active in the 17th century. Like his father Pierre he was an organist of the chapelle royale at Notre Dame in Paris, but otherwise he appears to be a somewhat shadowy figure. His Airs a deux parties avec les second couplets en diminution were published in 1669, the two parts therefore referring not to the vocal disposition, which is mostly intended for solo voice, but to a form in which the second part, or verse is decorated in a manner designed to allow the singer to display his or her technique. It’s a process that will be familiar to anyone that understands the doubles attached to French dances of the Baroque period, double simply meaning variant.

Perhaps the most important point to stress is that though these may be salon songs, they are mostly of the utmost sophistication, calling as they do not only for refined, sensitive elegance, but equally acute sensitivity and interpretative finesse. It is such qualities that are especially in evidence in these performances, which also employ 17th-century pronunciation. Stéphane Fuget is at the forefront of making us more aware of the importance of expressing text in Baroque music, specifically the operas of Monteverdi, having recorded all three of the composer’s extant dramatic works. Soprano Claire Lefilliâtre, who sings most of the airs, is a thoroughly experienced Baroque specialist who has worked extensively with Fuget and here responds to the interpretative demands of the airs to near ideal effect, singing with exactly the kind of freedom they require. Listen, to the declamatory pain she finds in ‘Forêts solitaires et sombres’ (track 2), the desolate cry of the abandoned lover to the emptiness of the forest wilderness. Here, as throughout, Lefilliâtre uses the text as a springboard to discover the eloquence within the music, bending the music to respond through the use of such devices as rubato and portamento. And it is important to stress that these songs need this kind of interpretative input if they are not to emerge as polite salon music belying their texts. In the songs to which he contributes, bass Luc Bertin- Hugault is also highly effective in his interpretative gestures – listen to his portamento in the anguished pain of ‘Ah! je sens que mon coeur’ – even if his slightly grainy voice is not of the most beautiful quality.

Several of the airs are given instrumental performances by the supporting members of Les Épopées (two bass viols, theorbo and harpsichord) while Fuget himself contributes bewitching performances of three keyboard pieces by La Barre on a lovely unidentified instrument. This is an important issue, one that makes a significant contribution to our understanding of the music and interpretation of French secular music of the 17th century.

Brian Robins