Agnieszka Budzińska-Bennett, Maciej Straburzynski, Lukasz Wilda SBarT, Accademia dell’Arcadia, Roberto Balconi
52:44
Brilliant Classics 95422
+Orlowski Sinfonia in F
[dropcap]I[/dropcap]’m sorry, but the quality of the dramatic music on offer here simply doesn’t hold the listener’s attention, especially wrenched from its context. I can believe that the full pièce was indeed a great success in 1760s Paris and might well be so again but, a bit like much G & S, you need the surrounding ‘amusing spoken dialogue’ to appreciate the ‘very light’ music to any degree. The performance is good however, with soprano Agnieska Budzińska-Bennett delivering some very delicious sounds. The filler symphony by Michal Orlowski is really quite tedious. The booklet note (English only) is informative and tries hard: the sung French text is included, but no translation.
Dan Laurin recorder, Anna Paradiso harpsichord, Domen Marinčič cello
85:25
BIS-2815 SACD
Music by Blavet, Chédeville, Chéron, Dieupart, Hotteterre, Leclair, Marais & Philidor
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he royal monopoly on printing and distributing music produced a distinctive French style of music which was only affected by outside influences with the arrival of the Concert Spirituel in 1725. These public concerts were held in the Tuileries Palace during lent and other religious holidays when the opera houses were closed, and the very first one included Corelli’s Christmas concerto as well as two motets by Lalande. Works by other foreign composers such as Telemann and Vivaldi were sometimes included, though for some time the confrontation between the French and Italian styles caused much controversy. By the time the first composer on this disc, Nicolas Chédeville, published his set of sonatas Il Pastor Fido in 1737, it was to his advantage to publish them under Vivaldi’s name rather than his own. This piece is one of the few on this disc where the treble recorder is included in the list of suitable instruments, amongst a variety of others including the musette and viele. Most of the other music was composed for the transverse flute but Dan Laurin gets over this problem by using the voice flute, or recorder in D, rather than transposing the music up a minor third. This works very well, though occasionally I missed the extra subtlety of expression which a flute can produce, and there are one or two slightly uncomfortable high notes. Laurin’s playing is brilliant as always, and it is fascinating to hear how he incorporates into it the essential elements of the French style. So many performers are inhibited by Hotteterre’s instructions on how to ornament his music. Not so Laurin, who uses all the flattements, inégalité, wide trills and other graces to produce a sparkling performance. His own extraordinary arrangement for solo recorder of the Marais Folies d’Espagne for bass viol and continuo is surprisingly effective though I rather missed Anna Paradiso’s splendid harpsichord playing which is so essential to creating the mood of all the other music. Slovenian cellist Domen Marinčič is an equal partner in all the pieces with a particularly interesting bass line. I shall certainly be returning to this disc which, with music published between 1701 and 1740, presents a most enjoyable picture of the way musical styles developed in France over these forty years.
Early Christmas Music and Carols from the British Isles
Quadriga Consort
TT
deutsche harmonia mundi 888750757227
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]here isn’t any information about the Quadriga Consort in the booklet so I looked them up on their web site and was amused when the following popped up: “Quadriga Consort – The Early Music Band. Traditional songs and tunes from the British Isles played on old-ish instruments by young-ish people.” Although they started as an early music group in Austria in 2001 they soon expanded their repertoire to include their own arrangements of English folksongs, so now although they still play early instruments (recorder, gamba, basse de violon and harpsichord) it’s difficult to call them an early music group anymore.
All the carefully thought-out arrangements are by the group’s director, harpsichordist Nikolaus Newerkla who also plays the vibrandoneon, a small wind-blown portable keyboard instrument. The singer is South African Elisabeth Kaplan, who has since left the group. She has the sort of appealing voice which is at home in the folk world and this is where I think this CD belongs, though enthusiasts of authentic folk music probably won’t approve of it. This is mostly traditional music in modern arrangements and the whole effect is rather soothing. I’m sure there must be plenty of people who will like it but I must admit I’m not one of them. On the positive side, the booklet is quite informative, particularly about the arrangements, and all the words of the songs are provided so you can sing along.
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is Nigel North’s third volume of music by Weiss, in which he plays a Parthie in D minor, a Sonata in C minor, and a Sonata in F minor. Weiss’s works have been catalogued by Douglas Alton Smith, “The Late Sonatas of Silvius Leopold Weiss”, Stanford University, Ph.D. 1977 [SM], and more recently by Tim Crawford and Douglas Alton Smith in Silvius Leopold Weiss, Sämtliche Werke für Laute in Tabulatur und Übertragung / Complete Works for Lute in Tablature and Transcription [SC], so it is a pity there are no SM or SC numbers to identify which the pieces are in the present CD. All of them appear in one or both of the two main sources of Weiss’s music – London, British Library, Add. MS 30387 [not 3038 as given incorrectly in the liner notes], and Dresden, Landesbibliothek, MS Mus. 2841-V-1 – but it is not always clear which of these sources is used for each track of the CD.
The Partie in D minor consists of seven movements: SM 241, 55-60; SC 11.7, 11.1-6. It begins with a prelude-like Fantasia from the Dresden manuscript, followed by an extremely ornate Allemande. North describes the Courante and Gavotte as “the strongest contenders for galanterie.” The Sarabande uses almost the whole range of the lute, starting with a top d” at the ninth fret, and a bass line which slowly works its way down to bottom A at the 13th course for the final cadence.
The Sonata in C minor consists of eight movements: SM 173-180; SC 27.1-8. The Sarabande and Angloise (La Belle Tiroloise) are in E flat major. The latter appears in Track 14 with the Rigaudon, which is played twice, with and without repeats. The music is sprightly, but the range of notes is low-lying and the overall tone is fairly lugubrious.
The Sonata in F minor is easy to track down, since it is the only Sonata by Weiss in that key: SM 128-133; SC 21.1-6. North gives an unhurried performance of the Allemande, allowing time for the music to breathe. There are many appoggiaturas from above and below to which he tastefully adds extra notes of his own on the repeats. A dramatic diminished seventh chord with a low E natural on the 9th course presages the final cadence. The Courante flows along smoothly, although he waits rather a long time on the first quaver of the first full bar of each section. He plays the Bourrée before the Sarabande in the order of the Dresden manuscript. In the Sarabande, after a passage of emphatic thirds, Weiss uses extremes of pitch to heighten the final climax; the melody rises to a high d” flat at the 8th fret of the first course underpinned by a low B flat on the 12th course. That B flat is repeated in the next bar to create an unexpected third inversion of C major, as part of the final cadence leading to F minor. There is an interesting effect in the Tempo di Menuetto – the bass is quite sparse, and drops out completely here and there, leaving the running quavers of the treble unaccompanied. The Gigue has an ear-catching opening theme of repeated notes, which returns for the last few bars. What is so pleasing is North’s tone quality – sweet treble notes which sing, and unobtrusive bass notes which do not ring on too long. He creates a variety of tone colour which is consistently pleasant on the ears. He plays a 13-course lute by the Swedish maker, Lars Jönsson, although he is pictured on the cover of the CD holding a seven-course renaissance lute. Weiss’s music is always excellent, and North’s interpretation is masterful.
Mariam Feuersinger, Daniel Johannsen, Matthias Helm STBar, Kammerchor Feldkirch, Concerto Stella matutina, Banjamin Lack (2 CDs in a jewel case)
fra bernardo fb 1615566
[dropcap]A[/dropcap] straightforwardly enjoyable live recording of Handel’s sparkling setting of Dryden’s ode on the Power of Music. The whole of Dryden’s poem is given, but unfortunately the integral harp and organ concerti (one apiece for Timotheus and St Cecelia) are omitted, which rather weakens the final recitative’s implied competition between the two of them! The original closing duet and chorus (to additional text by Newburgh Hamilton) are also omitted.
No matter – this is a fine achievement.
Daniel Johannsen is a splendidly dramatic narrator. I particularly enjoyed the accompagnato which opens Part 2, with its meticulously specified orchestral crescendo, and the energy of his later ‘Give the Vengeance due’ recitative and ensuing aria. Matthias Helm is a sonorous Bacchus (with splendidly rasping horns) in Part 1, and an equally sonorous Timotheus (with eerily cavernous multiple bassoons) in Part 2. Miriam Feuersinger produces lovely tone, but sometimes at the expense of verbal clarity.
The chorus respond well to Benjamin Lack’s committed direction, bringing out Handel’s rich scoring (in up to seven parts) and resourceful counterpoint – try the grand ground bass of ‘The Many rend the Skies’ in Part 1, or the glorious quadruple fugue at the end of Part 2 (slightly oddly, here, three of the four themes are given out by the soloists, while the fourth is sung by the chorus altos). The many instrumental obbligati are well (though often anonymously) done, with finely poised solo cello in ‘Softly sweet in Lydian measure’ and rousing trumpet in the A section of ‘Revenge Timotheus cries’ (dramatically contrasting with the aforementioned multiplicity of bassoons in the B section). Stefan Greussing is suitably energetic in the driving drum ostinato of ‘Break the Bands of Sleep asunder’. The magical ‘distancing’ effect of the cool recorder thirds in ‘Thus Long ago’ is beautifully captured.
The acoustic of the Monforthaus in Feldkirch is slightly dry, but probably not unlike that of the theatres in which Handel first performed the ode.
Reinoud van Mechelen, A nocte temporis
69:56
Alpha Classics Alpha 252
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his CD from A Nocte Temporis directed by Reinoud Van Mechelen is built round a selection of arias from Bach cantatas for tenor, flute and continuo. The CD explores the tenor’s role as the sinner overwhelmed by the vicissitudes of this world yet joyfully anticipating the life above; the flute is both the harbinger of death and the promise of release – as a bird from the snare of the fowler, as the Psalmist puts it. The notes by Gilles Cantagrel describe the arias as trios, which indeed they are, and the empathy between the performers is disclosed in chamber-music making of a high order. Interspersed with the arias and a couple of recitatives are some pieces for flute played on a Melzer copy of a 1750 Palanca flute; the cellist plays a copy of an Antonio Stradivarius by Gérard Sambot from 2000; but of special interest is the use of the André Silbermann organ of 1718, recently restored in 2015 by Quentin Blumenroeder, in Sainte Aurélie Church, Strasbourg, which is tuned at a=460 hz.
The basic organ tone is of open principal ranks rather than the stopped flute of the small, portable box organs we are used to hearing in recent recordings, and to which players often have difficulty in tuning. Here, as in Alpha’s recent recording of early Bach cantatas with Lionel Meunier and Vox Luminis (reviewed below), there is a new clarity and a more robust sonority even in such small-scale works given by using a more substantial instrument, an approach pioneered by Paul McCreesh in the Bach recordings he made with more substantial organs in Saxony and his OVPP St Matthew Passion using the two Marcussen choir organs built together for Roskilde Cathedral in 2000.
The notes give no details of the organ’s disposition – the restoration of 2015 has returned it to the Silbermann 1718 specification – but details can be found at http://decouverte.orgue.free.fr/orgues/staureli.htm. It would have been good to have inserted this reference into the notes since as well as being of interest in its own right, there is one novel piece of registration. In (7), the aria in cantata 107 Wenn auch gleich aus der Höllen the left hand of the continuo with the cello is marked ‘solo’ and uses the Voix Humaine (and some mutation ranks?), while the right hand plays more principal-based chords (the Positif de Dos Prestant 4’ an octave lower?). This certainly spices up the aria which is in essence a two-part invention depicting how Satan tries his best to overcome the soul with a novel and to me entirely plausible sound where the bass line and the tenor voice are properly equal.
In this kind of programme much will hinge on the vocal quality and interpretive skills of the singer. Reinoud Van Mechelen may not (yet) be a household name like other singers who have made recordings featuring themselves singing Bach, but I rate him highly. His voice is perfectly controlled and very neat, yet he is capable of expressive shading and a degree of emotional intelligence that is rare in singers who get so caught up in the technical challenges of Bach that they sometimes seem too dry and instrumental. But his words are always crystal clear, and the structure of the programme presents a theologically as well as an emotionally crafted structure.
In the new generation of Bach recordings that is emerging, our concerns will not only be with historically informed performance practice in terms of getting the right instruments playing at the right pitches: so much has been achieved here. The focus may now shift to finding the voices who have the emotional sensitivity as well as the vocal ability to match the instrumental sounds they sing with – and that includes the organs. We need to know more about the Saxon and Thuringian instruments and the pitches at which they played and how complex keyboard transpositions worked with a relatively mean-tone temperament.
But this deceptively modest CD is certainly an eye-opener, and I will listen to it frequently as I try to absorb what it is drawing us towards.
David Stancliffe
Werke für Laute von Silvius Leopold Weiss, Johann Sebastian Bach, David Kellner
Bernhard Hofstötter
61:43
VKJK 1606
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he CD begins with the Ciacona in G minor by Silvius Leopold Weiss (SW14.6) from the Weiss London manuscript (GB-Lbl. Add. MS 30387). Hofstötter is aware that the piece is listed in the Sämtliche Werke as a duet perhaps to accompany a flute or violin, but instead he chooses to play it as a solo. Although it sounds very nice, I find it unconvincing as a solo; sections with just chords alternate with sections with melodies at a higher pitch, implying that two instruments are taking it in turns to carry the melody. However, he plays with clean, well-arched phrases, and creates a suitable feeling of grandeur, although there is rather a lot of echo in the overall sound, as if the music were recorded in a very resonant room.
There follow two of Hofstötter’s own arrangements for 13-course lute. The first is Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cello Suite no. 2 (BWV 1008). In the Prélude he adds extra bass notes sparingly, just enough to underpin the harmonic movement. At bar 48, after a long passage of continuous semiquavers and a repeated dominant pedal in the bass, there is a dramatic pause on a third inversion chord of the dominant with lots of decoration, then silence before carrying on. The movement ends with five bars of improvised arpeggiated chords. More bass notes are added to the Allemande to clarify the harmony, creating a texture reminiscent of Bach’s lute music. The bright semiquavers of the Courante flow beautifully with a lightness and pleasing clarity of tone. The added bass notes add sonority to a well-poised Sarabande, and after two brisk Minuets, the Suite ends with a moderately paced Gigue. The second of Hofstötter’s lute arrangements is his intabulation of Bach’s chorale prelude, “Ich ruf zu Dir, Herr Jesu Christ” [“I call to You, Lord Jesus Christ”] (BWV 639). There are three voices, which fit well on the lute. The slow-moving chorale melody in crotchets is the highest voice; the bass moves in quavers, and the inner voice in semiquavers. Hofstötter has transposed the music down a minor third from F minor to D minor, and chooses a slow speed which helps let the music sing. It is an exquisite piece of music, which actually sent shivers down my spine.
The Sonata in G minor (SW 25) begins with an Allemande marked Andante. It explores the higher reaches of the lute and is highly ornamented. On the repeats Hofstötter adds even more decoration of his own, which I find imaginative and stylish. The fifth movement is called “La Babileuse en Menuet” in the London manuscript, and it paints a picture of a woman who just can’t stop talking. Hofstötter’s Babileuse is a lively character, and although she keeps repeating herself, she does have some nice things to say. The CD finishes with a Chaconne in A by David Kellner. There are some impressive variations over the descending ground bass requiring some nifty playing from Hofstötter. Towards the end there is some extraordinary chromaticism.
Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra & Swedish Radio Choir, Robin Ticciati
94:00 (2 CDs)
Linn CKD 521
[dropcap]N[/dropcap]either on the grounds of period nor performance style does a review of this issue strictly speaking qualify for inclusion in EMR. Yet when the editor offered it to me, my reaction was ‘why not?’; after all Berlioz has played a major role in my concert experience over many years, having grown up alongside Colin Davis’ unforgettable performances of a composer who was to become for me very special. And there is the added interest that the conductor of this set is a protégé of Sir Colin.
Just as Monteverdi stretched the form of the madrigal beyond breaking point, so Berlioz did the same with his three symphonies. In the Symphonie fantastique, Harold en Italie and Romeo et Juliette, Berlioz changed our perception of what a symphony might or could be. That applies particularly to Romeo with its seven movements, vocal sections and series of descriptive scenes more akin to an operatic scenario than a symphony. At its best – the Scène d’Amour or Queen Mab Scherzo – the work contains some of the greatest music Berlioz (or anyone else, for that matter) ever wrote, and even if we Berlioz enthusiasts would find if difficult to argue against a claim that it also has its weak moments (the final Serment, for example) it remains overall an extraordinary work.
The recording is taken from live performances given in Stockholm in November 2014, the audience being very well behaved. There is much to commend it. Ticciati’s direction is sympathetic, fervent when required and notable for its admirably sensible pacing, observation of Berlioz’ meticulous dynamic demands, and orchestral balance, though I do have a problem hearing the string harmonics in the central section of the Scherzo. Though not the world’s greatest, the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra in general copes well with Berlioz’s often-cruel demands, though there are places where string ensemble could ideally be better. The opening fugato is just one case in point among a number that might be cited. But there is some lovely playing in the ravishing Love Scene, which builds to a pulsating, tremulous climax. The Swedish Radio Chorus is quite good – more than that in the wonderful in lontano exchanges between the revellers that preface the Love Scene – but their diction is often poor; they might be singing anything in ‘Jetez des fleurs’ (Juliet’s funeral procession, no. 5). Of the three soloists tenor Andrew Staples is pointed and characterful in the Mab vocal scherzetto, but mezzo Katija Dragojevic’s diction is also poor, while I’m sure Berlioz would not have expected so much continuous vibrato. Alastair Miles is a splendidly stentorian and authoritative Father Laurence, but the voice sounds rather worn and excessive vibrato is also a problem.
This recording has given me considerable pleasure and if, in the final analysis, it cannot compete with Colin Davis’ 1968 Philips version, that may partly be because I’ve now been wedded to that great recording for so long that I’m past conversion.
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.
Volume 1: 6-7 voice motets
Capella Daleminzia, René Michael Röder
133:22 (2 CDs in a card wallet)
Querstand VKJK 1523
Volume 2: 9-13 voice motets
Capella Daleminzia, Vocalconsort Waldheim, Singschule Waldheim, René Michael Röder
67:30
Querstand VKJK 1524
[dropcap]Y[/dropcap]ou know how it is – you wait years for one Vulpius CD and then three come along at once! Part of the Capella Daleminzia’s complete recording of Vulpius’ Cantione Sacrae I-III, these CDs suggest that in Vulpius we have a very prolific composer whose compositions are nonetheless worthy of attention. These are fine performances with passionate and musically pleasing singing ably supported by organ, and with cornets and sackbuts in one motet in the first volume. This is a splendid moment after so much music for voices and organ, but I felt that more varied instrumentation throughout the programme might have relieved the threatening onset of ‘boxed-set-itis’! The second volume suffers less from this uniformity of sound with a wider range of instruments employed throughout the larger motets. Vulpius’ music is pretty standard 17th-century fare – post-Gabrieli polychoral effects grafted to a post-Lassus germanic stock in the manner of Schein and Praetorius, but the fact that he can even be mentioned in the same breath as these latter master polyphonists is a testimony to his skills as a composer. His works seem to grow in status as they accumulate vocal lines in the second volume, and his huge 13-part Multae filiae congregaverunt divitias is given an epic Praetorius-style rendition by the augmented Daleminzia forces. In recording all of Vulpius’ extant choral works, the performers clearly wish to restore him to his rightful place in the pantheon of prominent 17th-century church composers, and on the evidence of these CDs the mantle more than fits.
D. James Ross
All of these links are to the volume of 6- and 7-voice motets:
