Categories
Recording

The 48 on piano

Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier (Complete)
Cédric Pescia piano
263:18 (4 CDs in a card box)
LDV38.1

Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier
Alexandra Papastefanou piano
263:11 (4 CDs)
FHR65J

Of these two versions of The Well-Tempered Clavier played on a modern grand piano, that by Cédric Pescia seems to me the more interesting. His background includes studying harpsichord and clavichord, spending a year in the company of the Bach Cantatas, and while deciding to play the 48 on a Steinway D of the 1980s, used also by Andreas Schiff, he has had it prepared in unequal temperament – even if we are not told exactly which.

In the extended interview with Pescia that comprises the booklet (and is in French, English, Japanese and German) he declared that it is the piano above all thatmakes this music sing and dance, two qualities he counts as essential forunderstanding Bach.

This is a thoughtful and well-prepared account, in comparison with which Papastefanou suffers. Her playing is more in the tradition of those who constantly feel theneed to ‘bring out’ the fugue subject whenever it occurs in case we should failto notice it. I find it rather wearisome. But all Bach, however played and onwhatever played, is a treat.

And would any reader of the EMR be interested in a set of the 48 played on a piano? Well, they might well be – and if so they should listen to Pescia as well as some of the better-known performers. They would be in for a welcome surprise. I found his playing attentive, engaging and musical.

David Stancliffe

Categories
Recording

Melancholia

madrigals and motets around 1600
Les Cris de Paris, Geoffroy Jourdain
67:11
harmonia mundi musique HMM 902298
Byrd, Gesualdo, Gibbons, Luzzaschi, Marenzio, Nenna, Tudino & Wilbye

The challenge in writing this review is in striking a balance between commending aspects of this recording, and warning about other aspects of it. First, it is, and is not, a programme of enjoyably miserable music. It can be listened to in the former vein, but upon reading the booklet’s notes, it becomes clear that the performers aspire to something more … philosophical. It is arguably a strength of this recording that a listener can be happy wallowing in some sumptuously unhappy music, or can engage with a narrative about the nature of melancholia. Throughout the programme, there are what the director describes in these accompanying notes as “instrumental recurrences which punctuate the pieces on this programme”: excerpts in varying instrumental combinations from two other originally vocal pieces, both by Byrd, interspersed throughout the recording.

The repertory is of both sacred and secular music from England and Italy either side of 1600. The performers are ten singers and five instrumentalists (three viols, two winds). The disc begins with a most impressive rendition of Wilbye’s Draw on, sweet night: the emotional temperature perfectly judged (not too histrionic, but nonetheless anguished) and the weighting of the individual parts ideal, with supportive but not rumbling bass, clarity from the middle parts, and firm but not piercing upper voices. This is carried into Byrd’s Tristitia et anxietas so that it is most frustrating that the ensemble does not sing the secunda pars. Three varied Italian works then follow – an instrumental rendering of a madrigal by Tudino, the first of two settings onthe disc by Gesualdo of O vos omnes and the sumptuous La mia doglia s’avanza by Nenno. After the welcome appearance of one of Wilbye’s less familiar madrigals O wretched man there comes the first of the disc’s instrumental recurrences – an excerpt from Byrd’s funeral song Come to me grief forever – thenGibbons’ What is our life with a theatrically peremptory close, a chromatic Crudeleacerba inesorabilmorte by Marenzio … and another recurrence: yet another bleeding chunk, another instrumental combination, another originally vocal pieceby poor old Byrd, his Lullaby. And so ends the first half of the show.

The bulk of the second half consists of works by Italian composers – a tantalizingly mediaeval sounding Quivi sospiri by Luzzaschi (born 1545, however), another chromatic madrigal by Marenzio, and two more sacred settings and a madrigal by Gesualdo, including an earlier and even more gripping Ovos omnes, again interspersed with two more chunks, weeping rather than bleeding, from Byrd’s much put-upon Lullaby. And it is English works that complete the programme: good performances of Weelkes’ O care, wilt thou despatch me and Tomkins’s “finely contrived” (Denis Stevens) homage to his teacher Byrd Too much I once lamented … followed by two more recurrences to complete the disc – increasingly ghostly instrumental reminiscences of, again, Byrd’s Come tome grief and Lullaby.

So, what is the point of these recurrences from two of Byrd’s pieces? Neither work is performed in full. Why? Nowhere are voices used. Why? Well, courtesy of M. Jourdain the director, there is a hifalutin justification. Seemingly these recurrences are used in order to engage the listener with grand theorizing about the nature of melancholy. But these sweeping pronouncements and original truths become obfuscated in the fog of their own verbiage – the booklet’s concluding paragraph climaxing in the proclamation “Melancholia is dead, long live melancholy!” could be a candidate for Pseuds’ Corner in Private Eye -and the gimmick of recurrence, or the recurring gimmick, fails. Furthermore, and rather more practically, it is irritating that two fine, powerful pieces by Byrd (three including the truncated Tristitia) are never performed in full, merely, it would seem, in order to illustrate some contrived and fanciful notions.

Moreover, it cannot be said that the rest of the programme (creditably, full texts are provided) is entirely satisfactory. The individual pieces are wonderful, and the performances do them full justice, but the unrelenting melancholy becomes too much of a good thing, which the recurrences do nothing to alleviate or explain or complement, accumulating until a tipping point during the sequence of the Italian pieces in the second half of the programme. The disc could well be worth obtaining for the quality of the individual pieces and for the performances, but might be best heard in small doses and particular moods, and perhaps with certain (French) red or white beverages close at hand –just the odd glass; and, when reading the booklet, salt – just the odd pinch.

Richard Turbet

Categories
Recording

Telemann: Christmas Oratorios

Monika Mauch, Nicole Pieper, Georg Poplutz, Klaus Mertens SATB, Kölner Akademie directed by Michael Alexander Willens
76:50
cpo 555 254-2
TVWV 1:745, 926, 1251, 1431

The three oratorios recorded here, all recently discovered, date from 1730 or 1731 to cover a church year designated by Telemann to be devoted to oratorios. They were composed for the Hamburg churches for which he was responsible for supplying music, all having librettos by the local poet Albrecht Jacob Zell. The oratorio differed from the cantata and other forms of church music by giving the music to named characters, here allegorical figures that pronounce on various theological and philosophical topics linked to the Nativity. Much ofthe poetry will seem arcane to the modern reader, but it has themerit of providing the composer with opportunities for colourfulcontrast in addition to mimetic writing. It hardly seems necessary toadd that these are opportunities seized upon eagerly by Telemann.

The most immediately striking of these works is Schmecket und sehet, composed for the 1st Day of Christmas, not least because it is composed for eight soloists (SSAATTBB) and features a large orchestra including trumpets and drums. Here the soloists take the parts of Love, Prayer, Faith, Hope, Joy, Reverence, Fidelity and Prudence, their parts doubled in the choruses. At its heart lie three dialogues, the first an extended da capo aria between Joy – the ever-dependable bass Klaus Mertens – and a ‘Choir of Joyful Souls’, cast in the favouriteBaroque form of questions and answers in which Telemann makes effective use of contrasting the florid passaggi for bass soloist with the terse questioning of the chorus. The last is an elaborate 8-part aria in which the two SATB groups are again starkly contrasted, the first SATB group soft legato (‘So rest gently’) dynamically contrasted with the trumpets and drums reply (‘God awakens, so I may rest!). The other notable number is for alto (Prayer), ‘Mein Herze wallet’, a delicate, flute-inflected area sensitively sung by Nicola Pieper, a real discovery among the soloists. This is a lovely, warmly-rounded voice, evenly produced across its range and Pieper’s technique is excellent, with finely articulated ornaments; the ornamentation of the da capo repeat is a model of style.

The second oratorio, Im hellen Glanz, scored for SATB and lightly orchestrated, seems to me less interesting, with the exception of the opening aria, well delivered by Georg Poplutz’s pleasing light tenor, in which Telemann imitates the ‘snow melts, running off’ with descending scalic figuration. The work seems to engage the performers less, too, conveying less conviction than elsewhere. Herr Gott, dich loben wir, for New Years’s Day, on the other hand, is an engaging piece with SATB parts for Trust (sop), Holy Longing (alt), Contemplation (ten) and Knowledge (bs), with a ‘Choir of Observing Souls’. As the names suggest, the overall mood here is more reflective. There is another question and answer dialogue between the bass and choir, the solo part accompanied by an obbligato bassoon and fine arias for tenor and alto, the former including touches of tonal ambiguity and further mimetic writing. The choruses of both this and the preceding oratorio sound to me to have been clearly intended as one-voice-per-part, the ornamental turns in the B section of thefinal aria sounding uncomfortable when doubled up, as here.

Willens does employ single voices for the final work, Und das Wort, a cantata describes here as Kirchenmusik (Church Music), a term Bach used to describe many of his church cantatas. Composed for the 3rd Day of Christmas, it is a small-scale work, scored for SAB only and a small string ensemble. Its theme is one of the central mysteries of the Nativity, St John’s ‘And the word was made flesh’, which opens a modulating contrapuntal chorus on the whole text. There are areas for only the soprano and alto, the former surprisingly Italianate, separated by a chorale based on ‘In dulci jubilo’. The repeat of the opening chorus at the end gives the cantata a satisfyinglycyclical shape.

The performances are throughout thoroughly idiomatic, with fine singing from all the soloists and tidy, accomplished orchestral playing under Willens. Listening to the CD a week before Christmas proved a highly agreeable way of embracing the true spirit of the season, but I have little doubt that it will make for rewarding listening at any time of theyear.

Brian Robins

Categories
Recording

J. S. Bach: The Well-tempered Clavier Book One

Colin Booth harpsichord
121:43 (2 CDs)
Soundboard SBCD218

Colin Booth is an exceptional musician: he has been making harpsichords for at least 45 years; he has written an indispensible book Did Bach Really Mean That? investigating the unwritten assumptions on which much performance practice depends, together with a number of scholarly articles; and he has made a number of recordings including the Goldberg Variations, a fine CD of Byrd (reviewed recently by Richard Turbet in EMR), Mattheson Harmony’s Monument, Buxtehude, Croft, Purcell and Couperin amongst others.

As is right the bulk of the 22 page stiff covered booklet which forms the excellent case for the two CDs is taken up by a well-argued essay on what Wohltemperierte means in the context of the 48, of which volume one was already in circulation amongst pupils and practitioners by 1722 while the second part seems not to have been available till about two decades later. What temperament will retain the sense of differentiation between the keys, which making them tolerably playable? In the end, he settles for Kirnberger III, and certainly the results seem to justify that choice. This is a wonderful example of what a serious booklet can be, and I hope it has wide circulation.

But it is the playing that counts. And I was bowled over. First, the sound. Colin Booth plays on an instrument that he made in 2016. ‘With an extension of the compass it is based on the design of an original instrument signed Nicholas Celini 1661, purchased and restored by Colin during 2013.’ It seems to have been built by aprovincial Italian maker, working in Narbonne. Strung in brass, it has a beautiful singing tone and gives great clarity to the part-writing. He only uses the 8’ ranks (there is a 4’ on the lower keyboard) but alone and in combination these provide both a sonorous richness and weight while allowing a degree of finesse to shine through.

His fingerwork is elegant, ornaments well-considered and never obtrusive, and the absence of that percussive brittle clatter we so often experience makes the whole experience of listening to two CDs straight through a real pleasure. Listen to how he articulates the subject in the B-flat fugue (2.18) where there is a studied ambivalence in how he shapes the grouping of the semi-quavers, or the final B minor fugue, where the wandering subject introduces us to the continuingly unfolding shifts in the tonality: here each phrase in this monumental construction builds upon what has gone before but you are sure that the performer will guide you home. I have no hesitation in saying that this is the most congenial playing I have heard of this remarkable set of pieces. The next volume is due for release this coming year. You will need to order from ColinBooth direct via his website – easily accessible at www.colinbooth.co.uk, where you will find a Christmas offer of three for the price of two.

David Stancliffe

Categories
Recording

Johann Sebastian Bach: Weihnachtsoratorium

MusicaFiorita, Daniela Dolci

Gunta Smirnova, Flavio Ferri-Benedetti, Hans Jörg Mammel (Evangelist), Raitis Grigalis SATBar, Musica Fiorita, Daniela Dolci
142:00 (2 CDs)
PAN CLASSICS PC 10393

This is a splendid performance: beautifully balanced and recorded, with a plausible number of singers – 14, and a comparable group of players – 2.2.2.1.1 strings, admirable woodwind and the peerless Jean-François Madeuf and his cronies playing brass. The continuo includes organ, baroque guitar and theorbo (effective for example in IV.i with the pizzicato bass line), and harpsichord, played by the director, Daniela Dolci, herself a continuo specialist, but used sparingly.

The group is based in Basel, but is broadly European and both singing and playing are of a high standard. Most exciting is the ringing clarity of the tuning, following the natural harmonics of the brass players, who eschew corrective finger holes –  listen to VI.i for true harmonics. But the chief glory is the sense of ensemble singing in the 12-voice choruses. Not quite all those who sing the arias also sing in the choruses. The tenor is the excellent Hans Jörg Mammel with beautifully paced narrative and magical high notes fading into the ether; the soprano is Gunta Smirnova, whose voice is a treat – clean, clear and bell-like: she is clearly an accomplished ensemble singer and could well have sung in the chorus where she would blend perfectly. The alto, Flavio Ferri-Benedetti stunning in II.x, and the bass, Raitis Grigalis –wonderfully baritonish in V.v, both sing in the choruses.

Both in the choruses and in arias every part is crystal clear with a perfect balance between voice and instruments. Before they recorded the cantatas they performed them liturgically in sequence over last Christmas period, and the pacing and flow could scarcely be bettered with a completely integrated sound-world between chorus and soloists. Although the tempi are sometimes fast, as in the opening (I.i), the performances are almost always well in control – only in V.i do I sense that a slightly breathless haste can destabilise the singers when the director’s hands are on the harpsichord.

I have a query about the prominent sound of the fagotto in IV.iv Flößt, mein Heiland. With the pizzicato violoncello and the theorbo, it seems a bit much. Although we have got used to hearing it in the bass wherever oboes are used (especially in multiple oboe numbers), Bach actually specified it only in Part I. It doesn’t work for me in IV.iv, especially where there is a single oboe here. And the theorbo? I am not wholly convinced by the organ/theorbo bass line in Bach as if it were Monteverdi. And the organ? It looks in the booklet pictures and on the Youtube video like an instrument made by Gyula Vági in Budapest and certainly has a fuller sound than the small stopped flute chamber organs of a decade ago, but it was unconvincing in the decorative improvisations between the lines in II.3 which surely would have been played on a more substantial instrument.

These small cavils apart, this version must be at the top of any current or future recording of the Weihnachtsoratorium; this is a dramatic and effective performance and deserves to be bought and played in every household over the days of Christmas this year and for many to come.

David Stancliffe

Categories
Recording

1717: Memories of a Journey to Italy

Scaramuccia
62:19
Snakewood SCD201801
Works by Albinoni, Fanfani, Montanari, Valentini and Pisendel/Vivaldi

In the 17th and 18th centuries if you were a musician wanting to keep up with the latest musical trends your social networking involved rather more than going to your computer or smart phone. It meant a physical trip to the musical centre of the world: Italy. It is, of course, what Handel and many others did. Among their number was the violinist Johann Georg Pisendel of the Dresden Court Orchestra, whose trip to Italy took place in 1717 as one of a number court musicians (including Zelenka) accompanying the opera-mad Prince-Elector of Saxony. During a trip that took in Venice, Rome and Florence, Pisendel, already one of the greatest violinists of the age, made contact with many leading musical figures. Principal among them were Albinoni and Vivaldi (with whom Pisendel established a lasting friendship) in Venice, Antonio Montanari (another great violinist, who became the successor to Corelli as leader of the famous Rome orchestra) and Giuseppe Valentini in Rome, and Giuseppe Maria Fanfani in Florence.

All the above are represented on this fascinating CD of sonatas for violin and continuo in which Scaramuccia chart Pisendel’s Italian journey, the works chosen either having a direct or close relationship with the German virtuoso. Thus Albinoni’s four-movement Sonata in Bb not only bears a dedication to Pisendel, but, as Scaramuccia’s violinist Lupiáñez points out in his scholarly notes, also includes unusual features such as triple-stopping that suggest that Albinoni may well have composed the sonata with Pisendel’s virtuosity in mind. Most fascinating of all in this respect is Vivaldi’s Sonata in G, RV 25. Also dedicated to ‘Maestro Pisendel’, Vivaldi left the slow movement for his new friend to fill in, which he did with a lovely serene Grave movement for violin and harpsichord (rather than continuo). This hugely entertaining sonata opens with a bucolic Allegro and includes a number of dances, ending with a Menuetto with variations left open to improvisation, here splendidly fulfilled by Scaramuccia.

It is this sense of the performers being constantly engaged with making music a spontaneous act that makes these performances so rewarding and engaging. There is throughout an evocation of a world of fantasy and bizzarie that feels absolutely right for music intended to dazzle the hearer. Listen for example to Valentini’s Sonata in A (dedicated to Montanari), composed more in the style of a suite. Here a free, extravagant, arabesque-laden opening Preludio, is succeeded by an Allemanda founded on odd glissando-like gestures, a gentle cantabileLargo for the violinist over a rippling arpeggiated accompaniment, a good-humoured Giga and a vigorous concluding Minué more redolent of countryside than court. Quite apart from the captivating inventiveness of the performances, they are technically outstanding and balanced with rare sensitivity. The odd small intonation problem apart, Lupiáñez proves himself master not only of the more virtuosic demands of the music but of also producing a warm, expressive cantabile, while he receives splendid support from Inés Salinas (cello) and Patricia Vintém (harpsichord).

Brian Robins

Categories
Recording

The door to Paradise: Music from The Eton Choirbook

The Choir of Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford, conducted by Stephen Darlington
Avie AV2395
5 CDs in a box

The last three decades have seen three remarkable recording projects, each consisting of five discs, devoted to English sacred music from either side of 1500. First, beginning in 1991, came The Sixteen featuring music from the Eton Choirbook. From the USA, starting in 2010, came Blue Heron, with revelatory works from the lesser known and later Peterhouse Partbooks. And beginning a year earlier, 2009, came Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford under the college’s Organist and Tutor in Music, Stephen Darlington, who also selected their material from the ample acres of the Eton Choirbook. Their final disc was released in 2017 and, as with the other two projects, once all five discs had been issued, they have been reissued as a boxed set this year, to coincide with Professor Darlington’s retirement after 33 years in post.

Across the five discs there are several works, such as Walter Lambe’s Magnificat (also to be found in the Carver Choirbook in Scotland) on disc I, which receive their recorded premieres. There are also a few works which are new to compact disc, but which have appeared on LPs that have never since been reissued in the newer format. One such work, also on disc I, is John Fawkyner’s Ave rosa sine spina. (Confusingly he turns up on disc III as Richard – he is indeed John in Timothy Day’s A discography of Tudor church music, 1989, but is Richard in Grove online dated 2001.) This was performed as part of a project which was a forerunner of The Sixteen and, particularly, Christ Church: a pair of LPs featuring music from the Eton Choirbook sung by the boys from the now defunct choir school of All Saints, Margaret Street, London, with the men of the Purcell Consort, conducted by Grayston Burgess. These two discs set the bar very high with an outstanding treble line and men both comfortable and capable singing early music; while this music brings the best out of The Sixteen, there is an added frisson in listening to it being sung by a choir similar in modern terms to the ensemble at Eton and elsewhere for which it was originally composed. It should be hard not to be inspired by it, and Christ Church, over the five discs, successfully emulate the achievement of their predecessors at All Saints, Margaret Street. It was a great loss when All Saints’ choir school was closed in 1968 after 125 years, but the loss is at least partially alleviated by the continuing excellence of a choir such as Christ Church, especially when it takes up some challenging repertory associated with All Saints.

As Timothy Symons tells us in his impressive booklet accompanying the discs, “The copying of the Eton Choirbook was completed at the very beginning of the 16th century”. The names of few if any of the composers are common musical knowledge, with the exceptions of Robert Fayrfax and William Cornysh. However, many heroes lived before Agamemnon (Horace, Odes 4.9.25-26) or, in this context, before Byrd. Taking two whom the centuries have treated differently, there are works by John Browne on each of the five discs, whereas only two works by Fawkyner survive. Even amongst composers the standard of whose music is never below high, Browne stands out. His glorious O Maria salvatoris mater comes at the beginning of the Eton Choirbook, and it begins disc II. The only other work in the Choirbook to approach the impact of its stunning and sumptuous opening for full choir in eight parts is Robert Wylkynson’s Salve regina (disc II) in nine. Wylkynson is sparing in using all nine at once, so that their impact is all the greater, and his passages for reduced scoring can be delicate as well as mesmerizing and eloquent. Perhaps the piece from the Choirbook that comes nearest to being a modern repertory piece is Browne’s Stabat mater (disc I), though the sublime Ave Maria by William Cornysh (disc II – by far the shortest piece in this set, and in the entire Choirbook, at 4’07; it is a shame that Christ Church use the editorial sharps for the repeated leading notes in the uppermost – alto – part at the final cadence) also has a claim. The six pieces by Browne in this set are all of the highest standard – the music for ten of his Latin works survives in the Eton Choirbook (its only source) one of which is fragmentary, and five others are listed – whereas, as we have seen, only two pieces by Fawkyner survive, both also outstanding. How is it that a composer can be so good yet so seemingly unproductive? Surely several other works by him, and by other composers represented in the Choirbook by only one or two works, must have been lost (a solution put forward in the accompanying booklet – see below), or just possibly they are lurking in a corner, or in plain sight, perhaps unattributed, waiting to be recognised, rediscovered or attributed.

Apart from the item by Cornysh already mentioned, the works in this set are all timed at over ten minutes, some of them well over, with the longest – Walter Lambe’s O Maria plena gratia the longest piece in the Choirbook – taking a gratifying twenty plus. While maintaining the highest level of performance throughout the five discs, Christ Church Choir sounds subtly different from one disc to the next – usually two years apart. Presumably Stephen Darlington did not have an unchanging ideal sound in his head to which all his singers had always to conform, but rather had an ideal standard of performance and to that end trusted the inevitably changing cast of his choristers, choral scholars and layclerks to achieve this through their natural voices, working with one another under his leadership. It was advantageous that all the recordings were made in the same spacious acoustic of the chapel at Merton College, Oxford. The mind almost boggles at the difficult passages of reduced scoring accomplished by solo trebles, passages in so many of the works which also challenge the adult singers – the opening of Kellyk’s Gaude flore virginali, trios in John Hampton’s Salve regina, duos in Fawkyner’s Gaude virgo salutata and two particularly acrobatic passages in Hacomplaynt’s Salve regina spring to mind. Darlington’s tempi can be deliberate but are never plodding; the priority is to render each part audible while it also blends with its fellows, whether it is a barnstorming full passage for half a dozen voices, or one of the intricate duos and trios. This approach also highlights the precision and accuracy with which the participants sing, whether a solo boy or pair of trebles, or men singing together in the lower reaches of their tenor, baritone or bass ranges, as in Edmund Turges’s Gaude flore virginali in which there are also some wicked harmonic twists which can sidle past the listener almost before they have had time to register!

Another most commendable achievement of this set of recordings is that it highlights music by gifted composers such as Fawkyner, Hampton, William monk of Stratford, Kellyk and Hacomplaynt who are the equivalent of the popular music industry’s one-hit wonders. Other works of theirs have surely been lost (see below), and they are only known to posterity by a work or two in the Eton Choirbook, playing second fiddle to the bigger names such as Browne, Davy, Wylkynson, Fayrfax and Cornysh. While acknowledging that this repertory is challenging to perform, it really should be better known than it is. I have heard many other pieces from the Choirbook besides those in this generously filled boxed set, and have never been other than enthralled by their impact and quality. To those unfamiliar with the idiom, expect glorious sonorities, heart-stopping moments of surprisingly modern and quirky harmonies besides some snappy dissonances, sweeping melodies, pensive passages of reduced scoring, and overwhelming climaxes of five and more voices. The music is nothing like that of its equally but differently gifted European contemporaries; it is quite simply a parallel sonic universe.

The presentation is good in a discreet way. I have a minor quibble with a lack of consistency in the material provided on the backs of the respective sleeves: the first has only timings for the listed pieces, the next two include timings plus the numbers of parts for each piece, and the last two include timings, numbers of parts and actual scorings – this latter would have been welcome throughout. The accompanying booklet contains a short introduction by Stephen Darlington and concise scholarly notes by Timothy Symons about the contents of each disc, though texts are not provided. The notes explain the importance of numerology in these works, with so many numbers being of religious significance: for instance, “The number seven has long been associated with the Virgin Mary through the devotions of her Seven Joys and Seven Sorrows.” These numbers can be applied, by themselves or in combinations, to note values, in order to provide structures for entire sections of these compositions. Also, many compositions have the melody of a particular plainchant as their cantus firmus; it is not always immediately obvious why a certain chant has been chosen by the composer but, once it has been identified, it can provide a clue as to the circumstances for which the work was composed. Seemingly the manuscripts that survive from England in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries represent only about a tenth of those circulating at the time; this would in turn suggest that some shadowy composers who are now represented by only one or two excellent works could have contributed ten times that number to the contemporary sacred choral repertory, a possibility which would explain that otherwise seemingly fleeting excellence.

This project is quite simply a monument within the discography of English music and indeed of Renaissance music. I respectfully urge everyone with any sort of inclination towards the best of Western music – be it Birtwistle, Brahms, Beethoven, Bach or Byrd – to obtain this recording; Browne, for one, is fit to continue the roll-call of these composers.
RICHARD TURBET

Categories
Recording

The Melodious Birde

Keyboard music by William Byrd
Colin Booth harpsichord and virginals
75:50
Soundboard SBCD217 Fugue State Records FSRCD013

The steady flow of distinguished discs devoted to, or featured around, Byrd’s keyboard music shows no sign of abating. This recent recording by Colin Booth is another fine contribution to the stream. Using three different instruments, it is devoted entirely to Byrd, covering all the genres in which he composed, and combining some unfamiliar pieces with some stalwarts of the Byrdian keyboard repertory.

Right from the outset, it is evident that Booth’s approach has more to do with affection for the composer’s works, rather than with storming Byrd’s barns. Lord Willoughby’s welcome home is all about Byrd’s exquisite melodies and harmonies, and his beguiling counterpoint. Booth is at pains to render all this as clearly as possible, with feeling but not with sentimentality. Another of Byrd’s “standards” The queen’s alman receives a similarly clear and more assertive performance. That said, the Third pavan and galliard could have done with a touch more of the same assertiveness, as on this occasion Booth’s restraint sells this powerful piece slightly short. But it is another pavan and galliard pairing, dedicated to Ph[ilippa] Tr[egian], that shows Booth’s thoughtful and penetrating approach at its very best, most notably in the exquisite second strain in which Byrd’s closely argued counterpoint is beautifully presented, contributing to what has a strong claim to be the finest version on disc of this familiar and particularly intense work. The performance of Byrd’s deeply felt Pavan and Galliard BK52 in d (a work which seems to have influenced Gibbons, e.g. his Pavan MB 20/16) is on the same level of interpretation: as it were, gently persuading the notes to express Byrd’s profound intentions in the Pavan, while, as in Ph. Tr., putting a spring in the step of the Galliard without setting off too explosively.

There is an expectation, always fulfilled, that Byrd’s pavans will reward both performers and listeners, so they tend consistently to be selected for recordings and concerts. Until recently grounds did not possess that cache, perhaps suspected of being no more than academic exercises. Booth turns any such assumptions on their heads with enchanting renditions of two “short” Grounds. His pacing of both works – BK 27 and especially 43 – is ideal: patient enough to elucidate Byrd’s argument through his narrative counterpoint and appetizing harmonies but crisp enough not to plod. This appreciation of what such works have to offer has extended particularly to one of Byrd’s towering masterpieces Ut re mi fa sol la and although the nature of Byrd’s writing here means that it is best served by being performed on an organ which can sustain notes in order to give continuity to the piece’s narrative and to point up Byrd’s luscious suspensions, nevertheless even on the small harpsichord which Booth selects for this piece, he brings out most of these details.

Like his pavans, Byrd’s fantasias have always been de rigueur for discs and recitals. Booth chooses two of the best known, the Praeludium and Fantasia BK 12-13 and A fancy for my Lady Nevell BK 25. BK 13 Is the earliest masterpiece of European keyboard music, a kaleidoscope of melodies, harmonies, techniques and structures, the product of a restless yet disciplined mind. Some recordings of it have been rigid, some extravagant. Booth follows the contours of Byrd’s imagination and allows the music to speak for itself yet without discarding restraint. The result is an illuminating interpretation which manages to be clear but also expressive. Incidentally Booth observes the repeat at bars 58ff. which is noted by Byrd’s pupil Tomkins in his source, but which is omitted by Tregian in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. BK 25 can also be played as a powerhouse, its opening upward octave perhaps taken from Byrd’s setting of the word “lux” in his motet Descendit de coelis from his second book of Cantiones sacrae, 1591. Booth’s considered performance is more in the spirit of the piece being played domestically than one busting any of Byrd’s blocks, but still responding to the flow of Byrd’s creativity in what is one of his most surging keyboard works. The final work on the disc, A voluntary for my Lady Nevell, can also be mentioned in the context of fantasies (in his magnum opus about Byrd’s keyboard music Oliver Neighbour contentiously regards the terms fantasy and voluntary as interchangeable) and it brings the disc to a satisfactory close, presenting an attractive case for a piece that can sometimes be made by lesser players to sound a bit dry.

It remains to mention the two sets of variations on popular tunes that Booth places centrally in this programme. The carman’s whistle is an amiable ramble through the English countryside up alongside the carman on his horse and cart, as Booth responds appropriately to Byrd’s deceptively artless commentary on the tune, in both their cases concealing a more profound response. In the magnificent John come kiss me now Booth again does Byrd proud as the composer reaches forward across the centuries with some of his bluesiest cadences. Byrd’s variations are themselves varied throughout the piece, and his creative virtuosity is reflected in Booth’s measured but committed response.

Early in this review I suggest that Booth approaches Byrd’s works with affection. It is this approach that gives rise to a fine recording that is both likeable and recommendable.

Richard Turbet

Categories
Recording

Giornovich: London Concertos

Bojan Čičić violin, The Illyria Consort
65:46
Delphian DCD34219
Concertos 13, 14 & 15, Villageoises de Julie with five variations

I rarely comment on CDs with which I have had the slightest involvement, but very, very occasionally, there is such a disconnect between one’s impression of music as one is typesetting it (and inevitably hearing it played back by the computer) and the reaction to hearing the finished results that it is impossible not to write something. I have been aware of Bojan as an ascendent artist for many years and have followed his rise to some of the most important jobs on the HIP scene; what I not realised until I heard this recording is just what a fantastic violinist he actually is! Eager to champion one of Croatia’s most important musical figures of the classical period, he and his augmented Illyrian Consort present world premiere recordings of three violin concertos (two in A and one in E), which he augments with a set of solo variations on a folk tune. The performances are world class – especially impressive is the impeccable upper register, string crossing virtuosity. The modest band provides perky, upbeat tuttis and a warm, rich halo to the solos; they accompany, but not in some artificial, sempre piano way – they are as much part of the venture as the heroic soloist. The whole is captured by the Delphian engineers and editors with remarkable clarity and precision – somehow they have achieved presence without being invasive, the sound is immediate without capturing Čičić’s breathing. Playing of this calibre deserves nothing less!

Brian Clark

Categories
Recording

Telemann: Christmas Oratorios

Monika Mauch, Nicole Pieper, Georg Poplutz, Klaus Mertens SATB, Kölner Akademie directed by Michael Alexander Willens
76:50
cpo 555 254-2
TVWV 1:745, 926, 1251, 1431

It is both hugely rewarding and insightful when the spotlight turns on a little-known cantata cycle alongside progressive musicological studies. This fine recording does just that, with three delightful, seasonal examples from the librettist Albrecht Jacob Zell (1701-54), who gave his name to a cycle known as either “Zellischer” or “Oratorischer” Jahrgang from 1730/1. The latter definition is quite telling, as these resplendent works have seemingly imported qualities from the opera, and perhaps more appositely the Passion-oratorios of the time, with the clever use of allegorical figures to add pertinent commentaries to the festive drama unfolding before us. These are quite unconventional cantatas in form, and offer the composer a broad palette of musical expression; Telemann required no more prompting, responding to the hybrid stylistic elements with some ravishing and inspired “Tonal Painting”. The opening work with its dazzling chorale medley: Dictum-Aria-Recitative-Dictum-Recitative, wrapped around the familiar “Uns ist ein Kind geboren” is an excellent festive intro, and displays a compositional freedom, possibly promoted by the quasi-operatic, oratorial style. The aria, “Mein Herze wallet vor lechzendem Vergnügung” (My Heart swells with languishing delight, Track 8), sung by Andacht (Worship) is truly enchanting! The second “Oratorio” opens with a most perfect musical depiction of the shimmering glow of the “Sun of faith”. As an old conductor friend used to say, these are works filled with such “niceties” i. e. charming and clever (alert) responses to the textual content and drama; here with bright sheen and imagination. The final cantata (from a later Neumeister cycle of circa 1742-1744 (Musikalisches Lob Gottes (in der Gemeinde des Herrn), published in Nürnburg in 1744), is set with much more modest forces, only soprano, alto, bass with strings and continuo. It feels more adherent to the conventional formal layout than the first three works, and yet it finds its sequential seasonal placement, and typical expression of humble joy, found in similar pieces from this time of year. All in all, an inspired and inspiring exposition of three wonderful cantatas from one of the lesser-known of the 20-odd cycles Telemann managed to pen during his extraordinarily productive lifetime, ending with a modest work from the later cycle. These are most welcome seasonal delights with a definite musical sparkle, to which all the soloists and instrumentalists respond with notable skill!

David Bellinger