Tommaso Rossi, Ensemble Barocco di Napoli
58:54
Stradivarius STR 33969
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he Neapolitan composer Leonardo Leo (1694-1744) is best known for his sacred music and for operas both comic and serious, but seven sonatas for recorder and continuo by him survive in a manuscript from the collection of the Austrian Harrach family. One of its members, Aloys Thomas Raimund Harrach was Viceroy of Naples between 1728 and 1733, at a time when the recorder was still extremely popular there in spite of the rise in popularity of the transverse flute. This is the first recording of this attractive set of sonatas. They all have the same pattern of four movements, alternately slow and fast, but these tuneful pieces are never dull. Additional variety is given by the use of different instruments for the continuo of each sonata, archlute, cello, harpsichord and even bass recorder in different combinations. The booklet notes by Tommaso Rossi cram a great deal of information into a small space, and the occasional awkward translation and the lack of a clear distinction between the paragraphs make them a slightly difficult, though interesting, read.
John Holloway, Monika Baer violin & viola, Renate Steinmann, Susanna Hefti viola, Martin Zelle bass violin
49:28
ECM New Series 481 0430 Dowland Lachrimae Pavans Jenkins Fantasy No. 12 W. Lawes 2 Airs for 4, Fantasy in C for 5 Locke Fantasy for 2 Morley Lamento for 2 Purcell Fantasy upon one note
[dropcap]P[/dropcap]rogramming John Dowland’s seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans in concert or on CD is always a problem. Should they be played as a single sequence or be interspersed with contrasted pieces? They are often grouped in suites with other pieces from the 1604 Lachrimae collection, despite Dowland apparently wanting to avoid conventional pavan-galliard pairs. John Holloway, leading a group of (to judge from the photo in the booklet) rather younger string players in a recording made in Zurich, opts to intersperse pieces by other composers, ranging from Thomas Morley (the Lamento from Canzonets for Two Voyces, 1595) to Henry Purcell (Fantasia upon One Note) – mostly not ‘from the age of Dowland’ but fine music all the same. On balance, I prefer the cumulative impact of the pavans played in a sequence to the varied programme offered here, but (as Holloway points out in the booklet) you can always change the order by programming your CD player.
Holloway and his group also had to decide how to score the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans and which key and pitch to choose when using a violin consort rather than viols – Dowland allowed for that option by describing the contents of Lachrimae on the title-page as ‘set forth for the Lute, Viols or Violons’. In 1992, when The Parley of Instruments recorded the whole collection using a Renaissance violin consort, we opted to transpose the seven pavans and the other low-tessitura pieces up a fourth, following the evidence in consort music for a process analogous to vocal chiavette. Also, with the gut strings then available we found it difficult to make the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans work at written pitch even at a’=440, particularly because the violas playing the tenor and quintus parts spend most of the time playing on the bottom strings. Holloway opts to play the pavans in the original key at a’=415 using four violas and bass violin, which makes them sound very dark indeed, though the third and fourth violas seem to have no problems with the low tessitura.
Holloway’s solution works well in practice, though it is unlikely to be historically correct. A basic principle of Renaissance instrumentation (as shown by the treatises of the period) is that full-voiced instrumental consorts should consist of three sizes of instrument, not two (or four, for that matter), and that pieces should be scored according to function: a soprano part should be played by a soprano instrument, inner parts by alto/tenor instruments and bass parts by bass instruments. Thus Dowland’s pavans should be played by a violin, three violas and bass; so far as I know the earliest piece for four violas and bass is the sinfonia to J. S. Bach’s Cantata no. 18. Also, Holloway opts to omit Dowland’s lute part, arguing that the music is complete in the five string parts, though that is not quite true, since the lute adds decorative flourishes at the end of sections that keep the rhythm going when the other instruments hold long notes. Dowland’s phrase ‘set forth for the Lute, Viols or Violins’ rather implies that he considered the bowed strings more dispensable than his own instrument. An alternative, which has not been explored to my knowledge, would be to perform Lachrimae with just lute, violin or treble viol and bass, a scoring used for dances published by Emanuel Adriaenssen and Louis de Moy.
Having got these musicological matters out of the way, I should say that the playing on this CD is very fine. The consort makes a wonderful sound (though sounding as if the instruments are set up in a rather later fashion than Dowland would have known), the tuning is excellent, and there is a real feeling that the players think through the music together in an intelligent and eloquent way. Also, I like the way in which they strike a balance between consistency and variety in Dowland’s pavans, playing them at roughly the same speed and in a similar style but finding their subtly different characters. The interspersed pieces make a good contrast. They are all fantasias or (in the case of two of William Lawes’s four-part airs) lively dances, and are all much brighter in sound, using two violins, though the two pieces for two trebles and bass (Jenkins’s Fantasia no. 12 in three parts and the fantasia from Set no. 3 of Locke’s Broken Consort) sound rather bare without accompaniment. Locke wrote out theorbo parts for these pieces and probably played the organ from his autograph score in performances, and it is likely that Jenkins’s three-part fantasias also had organ accompaniment, though no part survives for them. The five-part fantasias by Lawes (from the Set in C major) and Purcell receive dashing performances, though occasionally I was brought up short by a style of bowing that struck me as belonging to a later period. But all in all this is a fine recital of some wonderful music. It makes a good case for using violins in pieces normally thought to be part of the core viol consort repertory.
Raffaella Milanesi S, G.A.P. Ensemble
74:10
Pan Classics PC 10324
Caldara: Risoluto son già tiranno amore Piani: Violin sonatas op1/1, 3, 9
A. Scarlatti: Appena chiudo gli occhi Vivaldi: Lungi dal vago volto
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he title of this recording is something of a marketing ploy – yes, Piani was one of the most highly paid musicians in Vienna but the violin sonatas on the disc were published in Paris before he was employed by the Habsburgs; Alessandro Scarlatti and Vivaldi’s connection was as composer to a particular residence, but how many times did they actually encounter the emperor? Caldara, of course, deserves his place on the programme though I am not sure what he would have made of this performance of one of his many cantatas… Giovanni Antonio Pieni (G.A.P., as in the ensemble’s name) published his op. 1 (a set of 12 violin sonatas) in 1712, nine years before he began almost 40 years of Viennese service. They build on the Corellian model but have not the stature of Locatelli, Veracini or even Geminiani. They are, however, all I can conscientiously recommend about this CD.
The problem is not the singer’s voice per se, but rather one of balance; the aggressive opening chords of the Caldara recitative and the “dramatic” interpretation that ensues from singer and continuo alike in my opinion distorts the music, pushing it to the very limits of good taste, especially with regards to tuning. In the arias, the single sweet-toned violin struggles to compete with the full-blooded operatic voice, and when the music has to slow down – not only for the entire “B” section, but also for some of the vocal coloratura – that really is too much; it was scarcely less uncomfortable, listening to the violinist’s efforts to draw not only more volume but also drama from his instrument.
Romina Lischka gamba, Sofie Vanden Eynde theorbo
72:28
Paraty 814129
Music by Marais, Ste. Colombe, de Visée
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is a marvellous disc. The pairing of theorbo and bass viol is a potent one, sometimes played separately (de Visée, Ste Colombe) sometimes together (Marais). Romina Lischke is a pupil of Paolo Pandolfo and Philippe Pierlot, and she clearly shares with them a very attractive impulsiveness, and a brilliant technique. She plays what I guess might be a copy of a Colichon (the booklet doesn’t tell us about the instruments) – it has a lovely, bright, pleasingly astringent top string, with a very sonorous middle register and a booming bass. The recording is made in a generous acoustic, but there is no issue of clarity. Both instruments are closely miked, and the result is a very atmospheric and intimate sound, which perfectly suits the music they have chosen.
They open with a suite of seven Marais dances, cherry-picked from all five books, in E minor or G major, and conclude with an eloquent rendering of Marais’ Tombeau pour Mr de Ste Colombe. This is followed by a suite in D made up of Preludes and dance movements, alternating Ste Colombe and de Visée for solo viol or solo lute. The final tracks feature three of Marais’ character pieces: Les Vois humaines, La Rêveuse, and Le Badinage – yes, the famous one in F sharp minor from the film.
It is very satisfying listening. I very much enjoyed the beautifully poised lute playing, both solo and accompanying, but my focus is on the music from the so-called Tournus Manuscript, of pieces for solo bass viol by Ste Colombe. I recently reviewed the edition of this manuscript published by Güntersberg, and I’ve found exploring the music fascinating and stimulating. As many players will know, it shares with the well-known duets many unmeasured bars, not just the notes perdues but fully written-out roulades. What makes them more interesting is that there are some quite detailed instructions for bowing, which all work out very well and are very informative. His music is quite unlike that of his pupils, or anyone else for that matter, and his melodies take unexpected turns. His harmonies are unorthodox, and clearly arise out of his improvisations, so wedded are they to the technique of the instrument. As the developer of the silver-wound bass strings he clearly loves the possibilities offered by the new clarity of the bass strings. He must have been a marvellous player, and he does require from a modern player a great deal of understanding and intuitive insight, as well as a brilliant technique. These performances abundantly fulfil all these requirements, and his music comes across as enormously appealing. One can discern the effect he must have had on his most distinguished pupil. De Visée’s music is more conventional, but no less compelling, and of course that of Marais is great. Open a good Bordeaux, light some candles, turn off the lights, and let the music cast its potent spell.
Sinfonia in A Kölner Akademie, Michael Alexander Willens
61:39
cpo 777 208-2
[dropcap]S[/dropcap]andwiched between two lively symphonies, each equally deserving of a place in the repertoire of most orchestras looking to explore the music of Beethoven’s contemporaries, are the overtures to Hoffmann’s Undine and Aurora, considered by many as the first Romantic operas in German. In the case of the latter, Willens and his ever impressive band opt to resolve the final cadence that originally led into the work’s opening chorus into one of the marches from its closing pages. (On my equipment, that caused an extra track to appear, so the Witt was tracks 8-11). I was more often reminded of Haydn than Beethoven, but I imagine that is what one would expect; all credit to cpo and the Kölner Akademie for continuing to present us with “new” music that can only help to broaden our understanding of those composers in whose shadows the likes of Hoffmann and Witt have laboured for too long, and – in the case of this recording for one – provide an easy evening’s entertainment.
Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra, Nicholas McGegan
78:29
Philharmonia Baroque Productions PBP-08
[dropcap]A[/dropcap] colleague once said that the best Haydn symphony was the one that he had heard last. This has worked for me over the years, with very few exceptions, and certainly I found this dictum true again in Nicholas McGegan’s selection of these three symphonies. Haydn’s creative imagination never ceases to astound. A simple variation movement (57/2) with of a theme of just three notes with a simple I-V7-I harmony held me spellbound. Haydn uses interesting innovations of col legno (67/2) and even scordatura (67/3), with a solo second violin playing a drone on the G string tuned down to F accompanying the first violin solo playing in dizzying heights (up to a top B flat). Haydn unusually places his Minuetto before his Adagio in No. 68, the latter lasting over 12 minutes – as long as the same movement in Beethoven’s Choral Symphony, for example. Of course, the finales of all three will never cease to delight the listener. The symphonies of the 1770s don’t always get the attention they deserve, and it is good that these works have here got such a special airing on period instruments. The Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra is on top form under McGegan’s direction, and so, for Haydn lovers, this CD is a must. Which is the best of the three? The last one I put on!
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his fine recording, made in 2000, was first issued on the Christophorus label in 2003. Escobar was originally from Porto; in the early 16th century he was music director and Magister Puerorum at Seville Cathedral, where he may have taught the young Morales. His four-voice mass, recorded here, is preserved in a manuscript from Tarazona Cathedral; the performance sets it in the context of a Marian feast as it may have been celebrated in the Capilla Real of Granada Cathedral in the early 16th century, using appropriate Spanish propers and adding three Peñalosa motets. Much musicological care has clearly gone into the project, though the (continuing) controversy over the use of instruments to accompany or replace the polyphony, and indeed the size of choir used, has to my ears not been satisfactorily settled. A mixed ensemble of some ten voices is used throughout for the Escobar Ordinary, with shawms and sackbuts being added in, e. g., the opening Kyrie and the Sanctus: the instruments actually replace the voices in the first Agnus Dei invocation. Conversely, a goodly proportion of the chant (e. g., much of the Gradual) is sung by one or two soloists. Overall, the effect is to make much of the polyphony sound rather homogenous and slightly lacking in subtlety; the intermittent addition of the ‘loud’ reed instruments only exaggerates this. The chant is beautifully sung, with appropriate rhythmic and cadential melodic embellishment; it would be fascinating to hear the polyphony similarly done by soloists!
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his recording of the complete motets by eight singers, cello, double bass and organ continuo is one of the most moving discs I have encountered in a long time. Fabio Bonizzoni explains that the group spent a long time exploring not only the music but also its background and original setting – as part of a long German tradition of grave-side songs of consolation. Finding four pairs of equal voices that can combine seamlessly or split into two choirs as the music demands is not easy, but the results here are incredible; the texts are clearly enunciated, the phrases are beautifully shaped, and the tempi – and the spaces between movements – are spot on. There is room in the acoustic for the singers to use vibrato as an ornament, and there is, above all, a real sense of involvement in the ritual of a funeral. Definitely one of my favourite discs this month.
Shakespeare’s Songbook: Tunes and Ballads from the Plays of William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
The Playfords
52:05
Raum Klang RK 3404
[dropcap]R[/dropcap]oss Duffin’s Shakespeare’s Songbook is quoted as the main source, though the scorings and adaptations are occasionally a bit odd. The main singer has an English accent that is a bit variable – why sing “Willow, willow, willow, villlow”? The other performers are Annegret Fischer (recorders), Erik Warkenthin (lute & guitar), Benjamin Dressler (viol & violone) & Nora Thiele (percussion & colascione). The ensemble is not, however, strong enough for Elgar! Nor is there any evidence I know of for mixing pieces in short snippets. It is entertaining, but the title “The Playfords” suggests a slightly later style than Shakespeare, whose last works were about 40 years before Playford came on the scene, though there is no particular indication that the ensemble’s scorings and backings match either Shakespeare or Playford consistently. Worth hearing, but don’t imitate!
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his recording – despite its relative brevity – left me exhausted; there is nothing tiring about the playing, which is absolutely first rate, but the music is just so intellectually demanding, or at least I allowed it to be so, teasing my brain with all its ingenuity! Of course, I could just have kicked back and enjoyed the experience as entertainment, but for some reason these perfectly shaped and effortlessly balanced performances “drew me in” and, once in the spider’s web, there was no escape. This is not the first Musical Offering to be reviewed in these pages, nor will it be the last to be written about in a critical way, but I am sure this version will find many admirers in the Bach fraternity, and I will not be surprised to see it among this year’s award winners.
