Category: Recording

Sergio Azzolini, L’Onda Armonica
68:40
naïve OP 30551
Tesori del Piemonte  vol. 59
RV469, 473, 491, 492, 498 & 500

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]hese six bassoon concertos once again contradict the oft-paraphrased oversimplification that the composer wrote “one concerto 600 times”. Framed by works in C major, there are two more in A minor (including my favourite of Vivaldi’s 39 solo concertos for the instrument, RV498) and one each in F and G major. In live performance, I have previously written in these pages, Sergio Azzolini can be rather distracting in his means of communicating with his audience, but through the medium of digital music I am spared that visuals and can luxuriate in the warmth of his tone, especially in the lyrical central movements.

In the faster outer ones, yes, Vivaldi relies on the building blocks of ritornello form, but he had the great advantage over most of his contemporaries of writing really ear-catching melodies in the first place, and when it comes to writing virtuosically for the soloist, he has few – if any – rivals. L’Onda Armonica (44221 strings with plucker – with an array of different instruments at his disposal – and keyboardist) are more than “accompaniment”; just listen to the opening of RV498 (Track 7 – Azzolini imagines it representing a snow-covered Venetian winter!) as a sample of their layered dynamics and careful phrasing. This is a fabulous CD and I shall enjoy returning to it often.

Brian Clark

NeoBarock
73:35
Ambitus amb 96 980
Johann Baal: Sonata in A minor (Möller)
Biber: Partias IV & VI ex Harmonia artificiosa-ariose
Mayr: Trio sonata in D minor, Solo sonata in D (Ries)
Erlebach: Sonata Terza in A
Kerll: Sonata in F
Schmelzer: Sonata in F

[dropcap]W[/dropcap]hen one has seen performers live in concert it impacts on how one listens to and hears a recording. While the concert I heard was of music by Fasch and Stölzel, yet the contagious enthusiasm and excitement they brought to it is clearly audible in this foray into the kaleidoscopic world of the stylus fantasticus. Where recent recordings have focussed on one violin, or a violin in dialogue with gamba, here the repertoire is for two “treble instruments” (I have to tread carefully in case pedants object to me calling a viola treble!) and continuo. Both players (Volker Möller, whose excellent booklet notes include an obituary of the almost unknown Johann Baal, a cleric who unfortunately came to an unsavoury end when he used a door that led to a cliffside…) are equally at home on the scordatura version of their instruments; Möller notes how Schmelzer uses such different scordaturas for the two violins that the work sounds like a sonata for viola and violino piccolo. With all the intricacy going on in the melody parts, NeoBarock wisely limit their continuo section to cello and either harpsichord or organ, and their simple accompaniments provide the perfect backdrop. The booklet and casing are decorated by an original artwork by Gerhard Richter, for which the performers express their thanks; I would like to express my thanks to all concerned for a fabulous hour’s entertainment.

Brian Clark

Collegium Musicum Den Haag, Claudio Ribeiro
65:00
C. P. E. Bach: Symphony in D, Concerto Wq, 14, H417, Sonata in A minor Wq90.01, H522
W. F. Bach: Symphony in F
Barbella: Concerto III

My first reaction to putting this CD in my machine was, “Oh no, not C. P. E. Bach’s greatest hit [the D major Symphony] AGAIN!” It didn’t take me long, though, to realise that CMDH were not just going through the motions of producing a disc devoted to this music – they had grabbed it by the neck and decided to give it a good shake; these are performances of real vitality and, even if the programme is something of a calling card for the group with a Neapolitan recorder concerto at its heart and a sonata for keyboard with violin and cello accompaniment as another filler, that is insignificant when one is dealing with such stylish and passionate performances. Listening to the adagio of the harpsichord concerto was an emotionally draining experience, but not at all in a bad way – the deepest sentiments of C. P. E. Bach’s soul are seemingly laid out for all to feel, and Ribeiro and co. capture all the nuances to perfection. I think my only (slight) complaint about the whole set is the fact it took me so long to identify the outstanding players. To save readers the bother, the talented recorder player is Inês d’Avena – her even and pure sound reminds me a lot of the legendary Gudrun Heynes. If this group is new to you (as it was to me) do not hesitate to make their acquaintance – they have something to say, no matter what they are playing!

Brian Clark

Consortium Carissimi, Garrick Comeaux
71:20
Naxos 8.573256

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he two oratorios on this CD were published in the Garland series of facsimiles. As someone who has championed Graziani (and his Roman colleague, Foggia) for some time, it is always reassuring to hear performances that confirm the quality of this music – as the brief but informative note says, Graziani is “one of the best kept secrets of the early Italian Baroque”. I’m puzzled by the consecutive statements that Italian vocal music was usually performed one step below modern pitch, and that the performers have chosen to use A=415 as their pitch level. I imagine that going that extra semitone lower might have taken the edge (by which I’m being kind) off (especially) the soprano tone – some of their entries in imitative music (of which there is plenty, as Graziani is a skill contrapuntalist) are not the most accurate. That said, I admire the way the voices sing through phrases so that the hemiola cross rhythms are audible without being signposted or micromanaged by a director.

Brian Clark

Lena Neudauer violin, Martin Rummel cello
117:41 (2 CDs)
Capriccio C5264

For any composer new to me I turn first to my trusty Grove  before reading the booklet notes. Zani (1696-1767), a contemporary of the Baroque ‘greats’, was born in Italy but spent much of his time in Vienna. His music, although conventional in style, bears little resemblance to the Italian Vivaldian style. The booklet claims these twelve Divertimenti  to be the first works for this combination in which the two instruments are treated as equal partners, rather than the cello acting mainly as the bass line. Certainly this is minimal chamber music, and I felt the need for a little continuo at times to fill out the sparse texture – for any double stopping was a rare occurrence in Zani’s writing. This is neat playing from these two accomplished performers, if at times perhaps a little too spiky for my taste. Only the hardy might wish to hear all twelve works at one sitting, but they are nevertheless an interesting addition to the chamber repertoire of the period and would complement Rummel’s recent recording of the complete cello concerti of this composer. The booklet notes do not say whether these works correspond to either of the opus numbers given in the Grove works list for the same combination (given there as Sonate da Camera  or just Sonate), or whether these Divertimenti are a newly discovered set. The notes do, however, give helpful stylistic guidance on the music. For those who delight in collecting musical trivia, the notes mention that Zani died as a result of a coach turning over – rivalling Alkan’s noted bookcase death some 200 years later.

Ian Graham-Jones

The Choir of King’s College Cambridge, His Majestys Sagbutts & Cornetts, Stephen Cleobury
73:10
KGS0012 (SACD + Pure Audio Blu-ray disc)
Exultavit cor meum, Hodie completi sunt, In ecclesiis, Iubilate Deo, Litaniæ Beatæ Mariæ Virginis, Magnificat, Quem vidistis pastores, Surrexit Christus & Suscipe clementissime Deus
Canzona Prima, Seconda & Terza

[dropcap]I[/dropcap] approached this CD, recorded using the latest recording technology and available on two discs for SACD hybrid and blu-ray respectively, with very high hopes. One of my earliest encounters with the music of this period was precisely with the music of Gabrieli and indeed included much of the music on this disc. My first reaction was to admire the crystal clear sound which captures the spacious ambience of King’s College Chapel to perfection and gives the music a splendid grandeur. It was not long however before I was much more bothered than I had anticipated by the fact that the choir with its boy trebles was simply not the vocal sound for which this music conceived. Worse than that, much of the singing had an English politeness about it which seemed to me to emasculate Gabrieli’s highly dramatic idiom. In the couple of pieces where the choir was encouraged to be more flamboyant, such as Iubilate Deo, parts of the 14-part Magnificat and Hugh Keyte’s magnificent re-realisation of Quem vidistis, the singers produce a degree of excitement, but the rather mimsy In ecclesiis  which opens the disc and the unconvincing Suscipe clementissime Deus  with its less than magnificent account of the composer’s towering setting of ‘immensae maiestati’ are ultimately disappointing.

The solo voices are also patchy, not apparently sharing the same concepts of how Gabrieli should sound, and there were some contrapuntal guddles caused undoubtedly by the spacing of the forces. His Majestys Sagbutts and Cornetts provide fine accounts of Gabrieli’s instrumental canzonas and sonatas between the larger choral items, but even they sound cowed in some of the choral works. Any foray into this repertoire invites comparison with the work of specialist period ensembles such as Paul McCreesh’s Gabrieli Consort and Players and if, like me, you prefer your Gabrieli to be brash and thrilling you will always go for the sound of soaring falsettists and blaring brass rather than these rather diffident accounts. Although the programme note declares the recording to be ‘the culmination of considerable scholarship into the performance practice of Gabrieli’s Venice’, with the noble exception of Hugh Keyte’s cutting-edge and valuable contribution (published 2015 by The Early Music Company), there seems nothing terribly radical here, and indeed ironically many of the editions used date from the 1990s and one indeed is from Denis Arnold’s 1962 CMM, the very edition used for the 1967 recording which so inspired me as a child!

D. James Ross