Tag: Baroque

Arcangelo, Jonathan Cohen
70:35
Hyperion CDA68093

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n the general context of current programming styles it feels odd to have a disc which offers two quite unconnected groups of pieces. I must say that I would have preferred to hear L’Apothéose  in the context of other instrumental music and, especially, the famous Leçons  in the company of other petits motets  by Couperin. There are some brilliant examples out there which really are too little sung. Anyway, back to what actually happens. The concert instrumental  is most beautifully played by the strings, with loving attention given to every detail but with no sense of tip-toeing from note to note. I liked having the movements’ titles spoken though they could have been very slightly slower and at a very slightly higher level. The only element that jars is the combination of lute and harpsichord on the continuo. This is just too much and is at times an over-active distraction from the simple nobility of the upper parts. I’m afraid that I did not enjoy the Leçons  quite as much. Others may not be as disturbed by the singers’ vibrato: I would have liked less so that the ornaments, especially the trills, were clearer and more special adornments to the line. In the booklet, Graham Sadler’s elegant note appears in English, French and German though artists’ biographies are in English only, as are the translations of the sung Latin texts.

David Hansell

Hana Blažíková soprano, Accentus Austria, Thomas Wimmer
57:18
deutsche harmonia mundi 8 89854 11892 1

[dropcap]C[/dropcap]lassy programme, classy music, very classy performances – pretty much ideal, in fact. Hana Blažíková controls her vibrato so that we hear clearly the perfectly pitched core of her tone, which thus becomes both an apt companion and a contrast to the cleanly played violins. And the music is very attractive: Fux could really do it, not just write about it. The only disappointment is that all the vocal items are accompanied by chamber-scaled forces: it would have nice to have at least one with the larger forces which were deployed on important occasions in the imperial chapels. The booklet (Ger/Eng) essay would have benefited from a fiercer copy editor – the English does occasionally read like a translation – though the content is good. I’m quite surprised that our editor passed this on!

David Hansell

Jean-François & Pierre-Yves Madeuf, La Petite Bande, Sigiswald Kuijken
58:20
Accent ACC24318
TWV 44: D1+, 51: D1, D7, D8, 55: D7

[dropcap]A[/dropcap]nother recording of Telemann’s trumpet concertos? I hear you cry. Well yes, but not as we know them, Jim! There are two aspects of the current disc that set it apart from anything you are likely to have heard before. In the first place, the brass instruments are played “au naturel”, i. e., without any finger holes or hand stopping; secondly, rather than being soloist versus orchestra, these are – as the composer undoubtedly expected – played as chamber music with one instrumentalist per part. This of itself would be reason enough to acquire this disc, but there is the obvious additional attraction of getting HIP guru Sigiswald Kuijken’s way-too-infrequent interpretations of Telemann’s fabulous music and in this, as in every other respect, this listener was not disappointed. For all their typical associations with royalty and the military, the five pieces on the disc dispel once and for all the notion that you cannot build a thoroughly enjoyable recital in a single key. The wide range of sounds and textures in Telemann’s music, and these performances of it (which include two bonus tracks without the trumpet!) continually delight the ear in ever-changing ways, and although the boisterous faster movements with their often fruity brass tuning resounded triumphantly in whichever machine I happened to be listening to them in at the time, I actually derived a lot of pleasure from the quieter oases, where Kuijken & Co. took time to relish equally the composer’s richer harmonic writing or his delight in much simpler fare. This is one for early brass fans, Telemanniacs and HIPsters alike.

Brian Clark

Les Arts Florissants, Paul Agnew
74:44
Les Arts Florissants HAF 8905278

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n the past couple of years I’ve twice experienced – the right word in this case, I think – the vocal ensemble from Les Arts Florissants performing selections of Monteverdi madrigals at the Ambronay Festival, the review of the 2015 concert being on this website. Remarkable above all for their sheer intensity and compelling commitment, I would count these among the very finest musical events I’ve attended in recent years. The Ambronay concerts were a spin-off from a complete cycle of the madrigals given in Paris, where a selection was recorded for release across three CDs. It can only be regretted that the whole cycle was not recorded, but we must be eternally grateful for what we do have.

This final volume is devoted to extracts from the culmination of Monteverdi’s path-breaking madrigal output. Nowhere of course does that description apply more than in these last books, Seven and Eight, the latter bearing the title Madrigali guerrieri et amorosi, published respectively in 1619 and 1638. In both, but above all in Book 8, we find Monteverdi breaking through any boundaries still remaining after the radical developments initially introduced in Book 4. Thus from Book 7 we have ‘Con che soavità’ and the famous ‘Lettera amorosa’, both solos rather than concerted madrigals, the first sung by Miriam Allan with perfect technique – gorgie  are splendidly articulated – and a mesmerizing, rapt sensuality that employs messa di voce  to stunning effect. The long love letter in the stile rappresentazione  is equally compelling, delivered by alto Lucile Richardot with absorbed and absorbing attention, the lines sustained by beautiful tone and insightful vocal acting. There are two lighter pieces here, too, the infectious ‘Chiome d’oro’, given a deliciously light touch by Allen and Mhairi Lawson, while in the hands of Allan and Paul Agnew the irresistible Ballo: Tirsi e Clori  exudes sweet pastoral charm in the early verses before the 6-part ensemble enters to carry the madrigal to an exuberant conclusion.

The madrigals of Book 8 are divided between those devoted to war and to those that concern love, the selection here starting off with the introductory ‘Altri canti d’Amor’ (Let others sing the sweet charms). The opening, sung with languorous flow, is harshly challenged by the superb bass Lisandro Abadie, his announcement that he will sing of ‘harsh encounters and daring battles’ introducing a fiercely virtuoso account of the remainder of the madrigal, in which Monteverdi employs the new concitato  style. The war part of the book is in fact as much metaphor for the war of love as literal, but in the final piece the two are combined in Combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda, effectually a chamber opera based on an episode from Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata  that here comes to compelling dramatic life. The major weight of the work falls on the narrator (Testo), sung by Agnew. If his vibrato is occasionally a problem and I have heard the role more strongly projected, there is no doubting the interpretative insight and superbly rhetorical delivery Agnew brings to the role. He is excellently supported by Hannah Morrison and Sean Clayton in the relatively minor contributions given the protagonists, the former being intensely moving in her final dying words, delivered with a heartbreaking diminuendo.

Other extracts from Book 8 include the ravishingly lovely ‘Dolcissimo usignola’ and ‘Lamento de la ninfa’, a performance by Morrison, Agnew, Clayton and Cyril Costano of touching simplicity that goes straight to the heart, the inexorable ground bass relentlessly underpinning the misery of the abandoned nymph. A marvellous, life-enhancing CD of some of the greatest music the 17th century has to offer.

Brian Robins