Couperin’s final collection of ordres is the first release in this series which will eventually include all his harpsichord music. Brachetta’s playing can be quite flamboyant but here he adopts a suitably sober approach to match that of the composer who always comes across as rather wistful in this last publication. Tempos are calm and nicely judged, inégalité gentle and fluide, and ornaments almost unobtrusively absorbed into the musical lines. And the instrument is lovely too – a copy (2010) by Keith Hill of a notable Taskin (1769). Some might feel that this is a little late for music published in 1730, but the clear treble and rich lower registers do serve the music well. It can be frustrating when the titles of French character pieces are neither translated nor explained but here careful reading of the booklet’s tiny print will add significantly to the listener’s understanding and enjoyment of the music. The booklet (in English only) includes a general introduction by the player, notes on the music (which could have been longer – there’s space) and biographical information. Couperin’s music comes across as finely-spun gold.
This is the third release in a series of as yet unspecified length that may eventually include the composer’s complete keyboard music. This is quite an ambition as there is a lot of it; much is not yet published; and the sources are poor, requiring a creative and corrective approach from editors and performers. Three instruments are used: two splendidly restored historic Spanish organs (one big, one small) and a Ruckers-style harpsichord by Michael Johnson and I’d like to pay a small tribute at this point to those who prepared the instruments for the recording. Though one seldom hears on disc an instrument that is unacceptably out-of-tune, it is also rare to hear instruments, especially organs, that are quite as well in tune as these two. Given the pungent nature of some of the sounds, this is an important and a significant factor in the recital’s success. The booklet (English only) contains concise essays on the composer’s life, his musical style, the instruments used and the player: frustratingly, footnotes suggest referring to the notes from previous releases in the series. I hoped to find these online but was unsuccessful.
Many EMR readers will know Tim Roberts as a player of skill and taste, and there is plenty of both on display. Typically, the pieces consist of a florid and colourful solo line supported by a gently contrapuntal accompaniment. Cabanilles’s sequential passages can sometimes threaten over-predictability, but here they always have a sense of direction and purpose. Some Spanish theorists recommended an approach to rhythm that combines elements of French-style inequality with almost modern concepts of rubato. Perhaps there could be a bit more of this in the performances: on the other hand, there’s a lot to be said for a relatively conservative approach when recording, especially when music is committed to disc for the first (and only?) time. I enjoyed this, and recommend that anyone not yet familiar with the idiosyncrasies of the Spanish organ school give it a try. But be prepared for a few shocks!
David Hansell
Click here to visit the recording company’s website.
Choir of Girton College, Cambridge; Historic Brass of the Guildhall School of Music and Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama, Gareth Wilson, director 77:20 Toccata Classics TOCC 0516
Palestrina: Missa sine nomine a6, Deus qui dedisti, Judica me, Accepit Jesum calicem, Unus ex duobus, Tu es Petrus, Ricercars quarti and octavi toni. Ingegneri: Super flumina Babylonis, Duo seraphim, Lauda Sion.
Besides the mass, this disc contains motets and ricercars by Palestrina, plus three motets by his contemporary Marc’Antonio Ingegneri. Vocal works are performed a cappella, accompanied wholly or in part by brass, or by brass alone. There is evidence that in Rome at this period, for major festivals, extra singers and instrumentalists were hired for liturgical performances at some sacred venues, so this disc provides examples of the variety of possible performance practices for this music. Palestrina’s Mass is accompanied throughout except in certain passages of reduced scoring such as the Christe eleison. According to Gareth Wilson (email to reviewer), it was felt that the quality of the works by Ingegneri that are recorded here is such that he deserves a project of his own, so he will be the focus of Girton College Choir’s next tour; perhaps he will reappear on a future recording as well. Seemingly his Super flumina Babylonis made its point during their recent tour of Israel and Palestine.
Listening to the Kyrie and Gloria of Palestrina’s Mass, albeit with brass accompaniments arranged by Gareth Wilson, it comes as no surprise to learn that J.S. Bach arranged brass parts for accompanying these movements during Lutheran services. It might have been interesting on this disc to have heard the work with his brass accompaniments, with the remaining movements arranged in imitation of his style. This is not to say that Gareth’s arrangement is inadequate in any way.
In those vocal works which are performed by brass alone, or for one voice-part with brass playing the rest, the feeling occurs that one might have referred to hear words in all parts, the better to appreciate Palestrina’s word-setting. That said, the use of historic brass defines each part very clearly so that one can appreciate his polyphony and any occasional harmonic felicities or dissonances.
Girton College Choir sings well and responsively, Historic Brass play idiomatically and stylishly, and Gareth Wilson’s chosen tempi are judicious and serve the music well. Palestrina’s ricercars are undistinguished, but his Mass is entirely the opposite, with Kyrie and Agnus outstanding even by his standards. Similarly, the motets are so fine that it is astonishing that all but one are receiving their first commercial recordings.
The Sun King’s Mass Marguerite Louise, directed by Gaétan Jarry 53:13 Château de Versailles Spectacles CVS008 Music by Couperin, Delalande, Guilain, Lully & Philidor
One expects better of Versailles. Although the performances are quite decent, the programme is rather a rag-bag and very short and the booklet (Eng/Fre) poorly designed. Why not all the French essays together, then all the English, rather than interleaving them? And the notes, once found, aren’t that great either – whether in French or English. A case of trying too hard, rather than incompetence, but either way the reader loses out.
The Sun King heard various types of mass in his chapel, most famously the ‘solemn low mass’ which consisted of a grand motet,a petit motet and a Domine salvum fac regem, all sung while the priest quietly spoke the liturgy. On other occasions, he heard organ music and chant and here we get a bit of everything, sometimes a very short bit. So the overall effect is rather unsatisfying even though the major works – psalm settings by Delalande and Lully – are splendid pieces, worthily sung. Indeed, the soprano solos and duets are some of the best I’ve heard for a long time. Nonetheless, the overall verdict has to be ‘could do better’.
Baroque Masterworks around 1730 Jeremias Schwarzer recorder, Ralf Waldner cembalo 79:26 Genuin GEN 19646 Music by Bach, Chédeville, Handel & Telemann
This is a meaty recital offering works of fame and substance for recorder and harpsichord, either original compositions or perfectly reasonable transpositions/arrangements of music for other solo instruments. Alto recorder and voice flute are both used: thus those allergic to high recorders need not fear. All of this is at eight-foot pitch! The inclusion of unaccompanied Telemann fantasias gives some sonic variety, as do the alternating obbligato and continuo roles of the harpsichord. The playing of both instruments is impressive, though I do find some of the recorder articulation a touch capricious and some of it – especially staccato notes – aggressive for a flauto dolce. The booklet (English & German) offers a general introduction as well as concise comments on each work: the English is reasonable and readable, though not fully idiomatic.
Julia Böhme alto, La Folia Barockorchester, Robin Peter Müller 51:01 Accent ACC 24356
In a note so badly translated that it is scarcely intelligible, we are told that the women who played the part of seconda donna, or second woman, in 18th-century opera are both figuratively and often literally ‘Women in the Shadows’, the use of shadows then expanded into a discussion of the Baroque taste for chiaroscuro. The space taken up by this pretentious nonsense would have been far better occupied by telling us something of the singers who undertook roles that frequently complemented the prima donna in their opposition or rivalry to her. They are not even mentioned. In the case of Alcina in Vivaldi’s Orlando furioso (1727) one could even question whether the role is that of seconda donna. Originally sung by Anna Girò, Vivaldi’s brilliant young protégée, in her most ambitious part to date, this a multifaceted role that includes no fewer than seven arias, including the delightfully playful ‘Amorose ai rai del sole’ and lively ‘Vorresti amor da me’ included here.
Or perhaps we might consider the role of Matilde in Handel’s Lotario (1729). Wife of the usurper Berengario, she is far too positive to be considered a shadowy figure, rather is she ‘a veritable dragon without a redeeming feature’, to quote Winton Dean. Matilde was originally sung by Antonia Merighi, a contralto particularly noted for her acting and for whom Handel composed a number of important secondary roles. The range of her music is amply illustrated in this selection by two arias and the powerful act 3 accompanied recitative, ‘Furie del crudo averno’. In the bitingly sarcastic ‘Arma lo sguardo’, Matilde addresses both her son Idelberto and the heroine Adelaide, while ‘Quel superbo’ is a cantabile ‘simile aria’.
What we have here, then, might have thrown an interesting spotlight on some of opera’s mostly less than heroic women, but for that reason alone intriguing. That it is not, I’m afraid, is the fault of performances that never rise above the level of ordinary and are marred by the monochrome tonal palette of Julia Böhme, whose vocal acting and Italian diction are so poor as to project little idea of text. While her basic technique is sound, with well articulated passaggi, her approach to embellishment, both written and added, is often tentative and unimaginative. The support given by the La Folia Barockorchester, here pared down to one-string-per-part despite a booklet illustration that promises more substantial forces (if nowhere approaching the size Handel had at his disposal in London), is routine at best and too often merely pedestrian. In sum, a thoroughly disappointing CD.
Ensemble Resonanz, conducted by Riccardo Minasi 63:56 harmonia mundi HMM 902633
Haydn explained the genesis of his Die sieben letzten Worte in a letter to his biographer Griesinger: ‘About fifteen years ago [1786] I was requested by a canon of Cádiz to compose instrumental music on (The Seven Last Words of our Saviour on the Cross) […] After a short service the bishop ascended the pulpit, pronounce the first of the seven words […] and delivered a discourse thereon. This ended, he left the pulpit and prostrated himself before the altar. The interval was filled by music […] the orchestra following on the conclusion of each discourse. My composition was subject to these conditions, and it was no easy task to compose seven adagios lasting ten minutes each […]; indeed, I found it quite impossible to confine myself to the appointed limits’.
Haydn’s words are interesting in a number of respects, not least for showing that, like the sections of the Mass, his movements were originally interspersed by discourse and ceremony. The problems arising from a succession of slow movements were therefore mitigated by the performance conditions. The composer also provided more variety than he suggests by subtly varying tempi, only two movements (the Introduzione and no. V) being marked Adagio, while no fewer than four (no’s 2,5,7 and 8) are largos, in the 18th century a quicker tempo than adagio. Despite Haydn’s misgivings about its structure he came to view The Seven Last Words as one of his most successful works, a viewpoint seemingly shared by many of his contemporaries given that it was quickly taken up throughout Europe after its publication in July 1787. Just a month later Haydn published an arrangement for string quartet, it also appearing at the same time in a version for piano, while some years later the composer adapted it as an oratorio for soloists and chorus.
In modern times it is strangely the string quartet version that has found the most favour and indeed a glance at the record catalogues shows that there are more versions of it currently available than there are of the orchestral original. The Ensemble Resonanz is an orchestra that uses modern instruments with the objective of achieving historically informed performances. In some respects they do so to a remarkable degree, the strings played with very little vibrato that thus helps to achieve clarity and balance with the excellently played wind instruments. Ultimately there will always be tell-tale passages where the absence of gut strings is noticeable, as in no. 4 (Deus meus, deus meus; My God, my God) where both violins and violas take on a glassy sound not helped by the sentimentality encouraged by Riccardo Minasi. This tendency to mannerism, not the first time in my experience with this conductor, is regrettably one of the most salient characteristics of the performance. Much of it stems from the widest dynamic range I think I’ve encountered in 18th-century orchestral music. Even at quite a high volume, the sound covers a gamut from a barely audible whisper of sound to the violent assault on the ears in the trenchantly played evocation of the earthquake that followed Christ’s death, the brief movement with which Haydn concluded the work. Such extremes are incorporated into Minasi’s tendency to adopt fluctuating tempi. The overall impression is that the conductor is continually trying to make points, too often creating a fragmentary, disjointed approach that undermines the natural flow and phrasing of the music. All this is a pity, for there are many passages played with sensitivity and understanding that suggests a love for the music. Notwithstanding this and while also allowing for first-rate sound, the performance of this deeply moving and affecting work is too wayward to provide lasting satisfaction
Monika Mauch, Anna Kellnhofer, Anne Bierwerth, Mirko Ludwig, Hans Jörg Mammel, Dominik Wörner, Matthias Lutze, Oliver Luhn SSATTBBB, Cantus Thuringia, Capella Thuringia, Bernhard Klapprott 128:54 (2 CDs) cpo 555 259-2
Rather than follow tradition and immerse myself in the Bach passions this Eastertide, I opted to revisit a previous cpo release of Stölzel’s Brockes Passion, and to explore this new release from the same company – I love the way they continue to champion music from “outside the box”. In fact, this is Keiser’s own 1729 re-working of a Hunold text he had originally set in 1705. Its caused a scandal on account of the participation (in leading roles!) of three prime donne from the Hamburg opera. If not for the interspersing of chorales, the music would quite easily have been a stage work, especially the first part where there are some beautiful arias and duets with instrumental obbligati. The second part, while not without interest, does not quite match the first in musical terms, but the well-paced drama maintains the drive and interest throughout.
Klapprott has assembled a first-rate team of soloists (who also sing in the chorus, where they are joined by eight other singers who have short solo roles and two more sopranos), HIPsters with full voices, neat if rather modest ornamentation, and good blend in ensembles. The orchestra (4,4,3,1,1 strings with flutes, recorders, oboes, bassoon and continuo) is excellent. The recording is bright and clear without being too close. All in all, a different experience (of course!) from the Bach passions, but an equally valid response to the story of Easter by one of his important contemporaries – the fact that it is performed with such conviction and so beautifully is a total bonus. Don’t miss it!
Choir of New College Oxford, Edward Higginbottom 63:13 Pan Classics PC 10403
Nicholas Ludford (1485-1557) is one of the greatest Tudor composers. This is crowded territory, which begins with some musical giants from the Eton Choirbook such as John Brown and Robert Fayrfax, and climaxes with Byrd. Along the way, to name but a few, there are the Three, or Great, T’s – Taverner, Tye and Tallis – and John Sheppard. I pick out Sheppard deliberately because his music was overlooked for a long time, not only after the original Tudor revival in Victorian times and subsequently after the publication of the ten volumes of Tudor Church Music during the 1920s. In fact his music would have been published in the planned second series, one of many casualties of the Wall Street Crash, but the music of Ludford eluded or was overlooked by all and sundry until quite recently. The breakthrough came with the recordings by The Cardinall’s Musick (TCM) of masses for five and six voices, plus motets, released on four CDs, the most recent in 1994, coinciding with a major article about the composer by David Skinner in Musical Times. Since then, we now have the luxury of all his masses for five and six voices on disc, thanks to the superb recordings by Blue Heron of music from the Peterhouse partbooks based upon the remarkable restorative editing of Nick Sandon, plus a couple of recordings of his smaller masses. There are now even alternative versions of two of the masses originally recorded by TCM – just as well because three of their original recordings are not currently available.
The recording under review is of one of these alternative versions. It was originally released in 2007 on another label named K617 (numbered K617206) and additionally includes two of Ludford’s substantial antiphons, Ave cuius conceptio and Domine Jesu Christe. Higginbottom takes the former at quite a lick – 8’03 against the 9’22 of the premiere recording in 1993 by The Cardinall’s Musick under Andrew Carwood, and even the 8’51 of Blue Heron – but although the performance sounds rather driven and a tad soulless, Ludford’s luxuriant and often demanding counterpoint is for the most part audible. In a letter to Early Music published in May 1995 (page 366) I note that Ludford’s setting of the words “fecunditas” in this antiphon seems to suffuse the opening of Sheppard’s huge ritual antiphon Media vita which I go on to suggest might have been composed in memory of Ludford; given that Sheppard’s masterpiece is among the finest musical works of the Renaissance, it would be a fitting and deserved tribute to his predecessor. Domine Jesu Christe is a much more relaxed and expansive affair but still expresses a sense of purpose and direction. The movements of the mass itself are interspersed with Gregorian chant. As Edward Higginbottom observes in his notes, each movement of the mass begins with the same musical setting, rather than an actual head motive. This opening passage contains sumptuous and striking harmonies, conspicuous among those which crop up throughout the course of all four movements, and there are also sinuous passages of reduced scoring in which fewer voices are used per part, providing textural variety. Stylistically the music is clearly in the English tradition of the Eton Choirbook with no nods towards the Continent; indeed, at the beginning of the Credo, just after the head motive that is not really a head motive, there is a passage that has resonances of the old faburden technique, from the words “Et in unum Dominum”.
New College’s singers do ample justice to Ludford’s thrilling music, the boys with a bright tone possessing a slight cutting edge, which is appropriate here given the rich, bottom-heavy scoring (TrATTBB), and the men blending well while keeping each line distinct, the whole choir making the most of Ludford’s interesting sonorities, such as the final chord of the first “excelsis” in the Sanctus. For composer and choir at their collaborative best listen to the passage in the second Agnus, led by the high voices drifting sublimely in thirds. This is great music, by a great composer, one whom the world of music should acknowledge, celebrate and acclaim as such.
Airs sérieux et à boire vol. 2 Les arts florissants, William Christie 73:44 harmonia mundi HAF8905306
Gosh! Have LAF really been around for 40 years? Well since I first heard them live in the early 1980s they might well have been, and in that time they have immeasurably enriched our knowledge and appreciation of their core repertoire – the music of 17th-century France. A number of their recent releases have featured particularly fine programming and this second volume airs of continues that welcome trend by hanging music by Camus, Lambert and Moulinié on the framework provided by the separated scenes of Charpentier’s Pastoraletta H492. There are some moments in the more animated ensembles where collective intonation is not wholly centred but the solo songs with theorbo and gamba are exquisite in both musical content and sonority. Indeed, it is true throughout the recital that the performances that draw us in rather than project themselves onto us are the more rewarding. Yes, there are a few questionable performance practice decisions involving the continuo team but nothing that spoils the party, even for me.
The booklet (French, English & German) includes a concise though very informative note and full texts and translations, and the recording quality is very good indeed.
I wonder if Lambert’s allusion to Dowland (track 14) was deliberate. In the context of a text reading ‘Let my tears flow’ it’s hard to think otherwise.
