Category: Recording

Venetian Composers and their mutual influences
Mensa Sonora, Gabriel Grosbard/Matthieu Boutineau
70:35
passacaille 1035
Music by Albinoni, Bicajo, Gentili, Schreyvogel, Tartini, Vivaldi & Ziani

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he premise of this excellent compilation is simple: Vivaldi did not live in a bubble, so let’s explore the music that he must have heard in Venice at the time. To most readers that will mean the inclusion of composers who (even with the best will in the world) must be described as obscure: Johann Friedrich Schreyvogel, for example, or Giorgio Gentili. Personally, I had only heard of the latter because I was asked to edit some of his concertos for someone doing concerts in Italy. I am not going make extravagant claims for the music – nor, indeed, do the musicians; rather, I will suggest that, if you heard any of it on the radio, you would be hard pressed to say whether or not it was Vivaldi (with the possible exception of the sonata by Albinoni which struck my ears instantly, or perhaps the B minor Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro  RV167, but then there is another Sepolcro  sinfonia later in the programme that might fool you…) Mensa Sonora play one to a part and produce a lovely balanced sound with the solo part emerging organically from the texture when required. As obscure composers go, the author of a G minor concerto for violin and organ by the name of “Padre Bicajo” takes some beating – although Michael Talbot has argued that he may merely have been the owner of the sheet music and the composer was none other than the Red Priest… Whoever wrote it, it merits its place on this thoroughly enjoyable and edifying disc.

Brian Clark

Dorothee Mields, Lautten Compagney, Wolfgang Katschner
78:40
deutsche harmonia mundi 88985491572

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t is difficult to know quite who this weird and not-at-all-wonderful CD is aimed at. Almost certainly not the kind of listener who takes the trouble to visit EMR’s site. Admirers of the singer, maybe? Well, certainly Dorothee Mields is a justly admired soprano with a voice of pure, yet rounded quality and a fine technique that allows her to sing long legato lines with reassuringly secure pitch. Here there are odd moments, particularly in the Lamento d’Arianna, where her singing can be admired without too much reservation. But in general, given that she shows only moderate understanding of the stylistic requirements of the music and her Italian diction is poor, she can be heard to much better effect elsewhere.

The programme itself is an extraordinary mishmash, romping across music culled from the madrigal books, the 1610 Vespers and other sacred collections and not excluding a nod in the direction of opera with part of the duet ‘Sento un certo non so che’ from L’Incoronazione di Poppea. A part of? Oh, yes indeed. And the fact that it is a duet and there is only one singer? No problem. Just run Valetto’s opening stanza without a break into the response of Damigella (not that you’ll know until you read the booklet notes). Then stop. This cavalier approach to the music is the major hallmark of the entire CD. A capella madrigals for five voices? Once again, no problem. Just fill in the missing vocal lines with instruments, changing the orchestration every few bars to make sure listeners don’t get bored. A ground bass, as in Lamento della Ninfa? Ah, that’ll sound better with a nice bit of clickitty-clacketty percussion added. As for those boring men who commiserate with the Nymph? Oh, let’s just forget them; no one will notice. And so on.

The most curious thing about the project is the desperately old-fashioned feel it has. It smacks of the kind of thing people used to do to unknown Baroque composers in the early years of the 20th century. Well, we’ve moved on a hundred years. Monteverdi’s music now lies at the heart of standard early music repertoire, leaving this horribly misbegotten and musically sterile conception no place for anyone but the most undemanding of the singer’s admirers.

Brian Robins

Il suonar parlante orchestra, Vittorio Ghielmi
58:58
Alpha Classics Alpha 392

[dropcap]B[/dropcap]ehind the almost film poster of a booklet cover with galloping horse feet across the dusty plains, we encounter an assortment of works, some extracted from their familiar Baroque settings, and re-cast in an arranged gypsy mode, some pieces as arrangements of more traditional themes. It is rather like taking a whistle-stop tour through Transylvania and beyond whilst looking through a shifting musical kaleidoscope at this earthy, spirited, often rustic, stomping music. There are moments of captivating beauty too; the two guest musicians provide extra colour Dorothee Oberlinger’s sopranino recorder in one piece, and Shalev Ad El in the F. Benda work dazzle with their dextrous ease. The great gusto  and joie de vivre  of many of the other works shine through with the various soloists and a leader on great form. We pass through the foothills, the taverns, and country dances with the odd traditional song along the way. The front cover might have led to Telemann’s “Les courreurs” (TWV55:Es1 or TWV55:B5) or even “Les Scaramouches” (third movement of “La Changeante” TWV55:g2). The second Telemann extraction and arrangement, Track 7 on this CD, has gone for a bagpipe effect on the gamba, when the French clearly implies “Vielle” i.e. “hurdy-gurdy” or Lyra mendicorm, which in the original suite is couched between Menuets I/II and a Sicilienne avec Cadenze, and has real rustic impact! Here the drone dominates, and the snappier rustic tempo wanes. This recording offers more of the trend towards “Gypsyfication”, taking us from the polite salons of formal Baroque concerts into the middle and Eastern European fields, crossing almost into Istambul. Some of the violin playing reminded me of the great Stéphane Grappelli with lashings of improvisatory zeal. I wasn’t entirely won over by the Vivaldi, a tad more with the Mozart; the Benda was superb! Not to everyone’s taste, but a colourful tour nonetheless.

David Bellinger

La Spagna, Alejandro Marías
71:39
Lukos Records 5451CRE80843
TWV51: A5; 52: a1, G1; 55: D6, G10

[dropcap]E[/dropcap]ntering into the ever-expanding ranks of recordings of these quite familiar, yet discerningly witty and descriptive pieces, we have La Spagna’s offerings under a strawberry and vanilla cover now joining the 15+ of TWV55:D6, and approaching 30(!) of the “Burlesque de Quixotte” suite in G major TWV55:G10. The once unfamiliar concerto for gamba and strings, TWV51:A5, has at least four known recordings. Note that the concerto for recorder, gamba and strings is wrongly identified, and should be TWV52:a1! It is widely accepted that Telemann’s concertante gamba works were conceived with the Darmstadt virtuoso Ernst Christian Hesse in mind; he studied under Marais and Forqueray in Paris.The musicians of the Darmstadt court orchestra worked closely with Telemann during his Frankfurt period (1712-1721), especially during large public performances. In the D major gamba suite here, we encounter within the French framework many keen nods towards the Italianate concerto style; it is a hybrid with added idiomatic effects e.g. La Trompette, one of several brass simulation effects found in TWV55… Another example is the 3rd movement from TWV55:B4, Les cornes de Visbade. With the present director being a gamba and cello player, the choice of repertoire is hardly surprising; yet one feels a wider selection could have made for a better tribute during the anniversary year; perhaps a couple of the wonderful violin and gamba sonatas from TWV42 which are played so well online by this very ensemble!

This all said, the director and the musicians give a balanced, unforced account of these familiar works.

David Bellinger