Tag: Baroque

Leila Schayegh
64:34
Panclassics PC 10368

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is music from the remarkable musical melting-pot of the early 17th century, where composers in a number of European countries were experimenting in a flurry of invention with the potential of the solo Baroque violin. Springing from Mantua at the period when many would still remember the premiere of Monteverdi’s Orfeo, Farina traveled Europe, working and performing in many of the great musical centers, settling in Vienna long enough to publish a set of sonatas and canzonas for various members of the violin family. A collection of this kind stands or falls on the skills of the violin soloist – fortunately Leila Schayegh has a stunning technique, a developed sense of musicality and a natural affinity with this repertoire. Opening with an unaccompanied Fantasia by Steffan Nau, Schayegh takes us on an engrossing tour of the repertoire, alternating Farina’s music with pieces by his contemporaries Michelangelo Rossi, Pietro Melli, and Frantz (?). At some points, the performers move seamlessly from track to track, giving the CD a lovely organic quality, while the interweaving of works for different instrumentations among Farina’s violin works provides a pleasing degree of aural variety. I wrote earlier that we are very much in the hands of the violin soloist in this sort of exploration, and I can say with confidence that Leila Schayegh is the most persuasive advocate of this repertoire that one could hope to find. In her eloquent performances the music seems to speak directly to us, as she uses all the communicative potential of the Baroque violin to bring this music vividly to life – a powerful case indeed for the use of period instruments, particularly when they are in the hands of such a consummate player. I should, however, not neglect to mention her three fellow musicians, Jörg Halubek on keyboards, Daniele Caminiti on archlute and Jonathan Pesek on cello and gamba, who provide subtle but consistently sympathetic accompaniment as well as each taking their turn in the solo spotlight.

D. James Ross

Jessica Gould soprano, Diego Cantalupi lute/chitarrone
54:49
Cremona MVC 017-043
Ferrari, Kapsberger, Laurencini, Mazzocchi, Merula, Rigatti & Sances

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he unifying principle of this CD eludes me, partly because I think the link between the famous painter and any of the music is tenuous to say the least, but also because the English translation, by the soprano soloist herself, is not a little impenetrable. However, suffice perhaps that the painter and the mainly Italian composers of the early 17th century represented here demonstrate the same impassioned sense of drama in their creative enterprises. This is technically challenging music for the singer, and I’m afraid Jessica Gould rarely sounds completely comfortable or in control and occasionally suffers from fairly eye-watering lapses in intonation and tone. This is unfortunate as her partner on the lute, Diego Cantalupi, displays a consistent mastery of the music, and Gould herself has a fine sense of drama. However, track after track she undercuts notes and elsewhere wanders from the pitch frequently enough to make this programme very difficult to listen to. I was hoping to find something to enthuse about in the packaging of the CD, but finding the programme notes perverse, I then discovered that the package has nowhere to store the booklet – kind of symptomatic.

D. James Ross

Huldigungskantaten BWV 216a & 210a
Katja Stuber, Franz Vitzthum, Daniel Johannsen, Deutsche Hofmusik, Alexander Grychtolik
52:41
deutsche harmonia mundi 8-89854 10522-8

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is another pair of secular cantatas – this time homage cantatas – in a performing reconstruction by Alexander Grychtolik as a companion CD to his Ruhm und Glück, versions of BWV 36a and 66a, reviewed in EMR August 2013.

Erwählte Pleißenstadt  (BWV 216a) is more difficult to reconstruct, as although there exist some fragments of BWV 216, a wedding cantata written in 1728 from which it was parodied, and we have BWV 204.8 & 205.13 from which two arias (numbers 3 and 7) can be fully reconstructed, it is only the music of the Tenor (Apollo) and the Alto (Mercury) that form the original thread of this reconstruction.

In O angenehme Melodie  (BWV 201a), we have a more secure basis. The Soprano part survives entire, as does a print of the earliest dedicatory version. The instrumental parts of the arias and the two accompanied recitatives exist in a later parody, the wedding cantata O holder Tag  (BWV 210), so all that is missing is the BC for the secco recits 3, 5 and 9, where the reconstructed chord sequences seem entirely plausible.

This remarkable and taxing solo cantata is splendidly sung by Katya Stuber, who has a wonderful voice – clean and clear, but rich and expressive; warm and colourful, but never wobbly. This was a delight, as she has sung opera – Wagner and Debussy as well as Mozart and Handel – and I was not expecting such a stylish HIP performance. The single strings, d’amore and traverso of Deutsche Hofmusik play fluidly with a spring in their step, and this whole performance was a delight.

I’m very slightly less enthusiastic about BWV 216a. I enjoyed the original voice tessiturae with a tenor singing what in BWV 216 is given to a soprano, and these surviving parts of 216 certainly establish basic tonalities. But the secco recits are entirely new, as are the instrumental parts for two arias.

But these are personal preferences. The singing in 216a is excellent, and the performances are well served by a generous acoustic and excellent recordings. Both cantatas are recorded in this version for the first time, and should be warmly welcomed – indeed enthusiastically in the case of Katja Stuber’s 210a.

David Stancliffe

La Chapelle Rhénane, Benoît Haller
73:07
Christophorus 77407

[dropcap]W[/dropcap]hen I saw this announced in the monthly bulletin from harmonia mundi, I was very excited; I have long been a passionate advocate of Capricornus’s exceptionally fine vocal music, and the timing was great as a new recording of his Jubilus Bernardi is in the pipeline from an American ensemble. When it arrived, however, I realised that it is a re-release of a 2007 recording which Clifford must have passed on to someone else to review. My initial disappointment was quickly overcome when I listened to the disc and allowed myself to be moved once more by Capricornus; I cannot put my finger on precisely what it is that he does that resonates so deeply within me. For one thing, his word setting – not in the sense of “painting the meaning in music”, but rather almost imitating the natural rhythms of the spoken word – makes understanding the texts much more simple than if they were simply set to melodies that lend themselves to arcane contrapuntal ingenuity; somehow his music speaks to the listener directly.

The programme intersperses three pairs of German works on the suffering and death with four pairs of Latin motets from his Theatrum musicum; the former requires two sopranos, four gambas and continuo, while the latter replaces the sopranos with alto, tenor and bass. Thus the language and the vocal timbre alrernates throughout. Much as I enjoyed the recording (though with some reservations about the continuo realisations and some of the frankly “worldly” singing, most evident in O felix jucunditas), my CD of choice for this repertoire will remain and even older one by Le Parlement de Musique with Martin Gester. The present booklet has reasonable notes, but no translations of the texts.

Brian Clark

Sergio Azzolini bassoon, Xenia Löffler oboe, Jana Semerádová flute, Lenka Torgersen violin, Collegium Marianum
69:09
Supraphon SU 4208-2

[dropcap]R[/dropcap]ather appropriately, this CD (the second that this series – Music from eighteeth-century Prague – has devoted to the composer) should begin with a concerto whose origins are so obscure that it is not even certain whether it is by Jiránek or his great Venetian mentor (and regular supplier of music to his Bohemian patron and Jiránek’s employer, Count Morzin) Vivaldi. That’s a matter for musicologists; music lovers will hear a fabulous performance of an excellent work that has all the attributes of a three-movement baroque concerto. There follow five more, culminating in a work for flute, violin, viola d’amore and ensemble.

Like all of his contemporaries, Jiránek was thoroughly immersed in the Italian style, so it would come as no surprise if someone thought they were listening to Vivaldi. That said, each of the six works has their individual character, and what impresses most is the range of the composer’s invention. As with previous Collegium Marianum recordings, both the playing and the recorded sound are faultless. I did once joke that, if I were ever to win a very large amount of money on the national lottery, I should buy myself a villa or a small castle in Bohemia and employ an orchestra to entertain me with just such music; listening to it on CD is hardly the same, but it makes the dream all the more desirable! This is a beautiful recording that deserves to win all sorts of awards.

Brian Clark

Dorina Frati, Orchestra a Plettra Mauro e Claudio Terroni
74:21
Dynamic CDS7787

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his recording barely qualifies for inclusion in these pages, but given that baroque composers did quite frequently adapt their music to new circumstances, it would be churlish not to include it on the basis that Bach and Vivaldi would (at the least) have been surprised to hear such performances as these. In truth, the three concertos by Bach (the A minor for violin, D minor for two violins and Brandenburg 3!) and six by Vivaldi (one of them even originally written for two mandolins!) are pleasant enough; I thought I would tire of the repeated twanging of strings (especially in slow movements), but it is amazing just how quickly the human ear adjusts its expectations and – perhaps more with Bach than Vivaldi? – the music is all one hears. Technical difficulties mean that some movements are slower than one is used to, but overall I must say that I enjoyed listening to this while driving home from Glasgow Airport the other day. I don’t know that I would actually ever sit down and listen to it from start to finish in one sitting again, but I might dip into it occasionally.

Brian Clark

Adriano Fazio cello, Katarzyna Solecka violin, Anna Camporini cello, Pedro Alcacar theorbo, Lorenzo Profita harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 95408

[dropcap]P[/dropcap]orpora is chiefly and increasingly known for his operatic compositions, and more specifically his work with and for the great operatic castrati Caffarelli and Farinelli. Working chiefly in and around Naples, the full extent of his abilities and the superlative quality of the musical scene there at the time has recently become much more apparent, and these lovely cello sonatas confirm that chamber music played an important part in this very dynamic artistic centre. Such was Porpora’s degree of specialization as a vocal composer and teacher that he called upon the virtuoso cellist Costanzi to ensure that he was writing idiomatically for strings. Notwithstanding Costanzi’s undoubtedly important input, this is overtly vocal music in nature, and even the more rapid virtuosic episodes recall the throat-stretching demands Porpora placed on his singers. These ‘sonatas’ are structurally idiosyncratic in that they are really duets for violin and cello with continuo, the violin providing a simple melodic framework and cello exploring the music more profoundly in concertante  episodes. This may sound very odd, but actually the pieces sound perfectly natural in performance. Adriano Fazio and Kataryna Solecka on cello and violin respectively play with a lovely rapport and with an easy lyricism and musicality, conveying well their justified enthusiasm for this expressive and original music. It is exciting to find the exploration of music-making in baroque Naples extending beyond the field of opera, and unearthing such intriguing treasures.

D. James Ross