Tag: Baroque

Stefano Bagliano recorder, Collegium Pro Musica
54:43
Brilliant Classics 95386
QV2: 20, Anh.3; QV5:139; QV6:8a

[dropcap]H[/dropcap]ow is it possible that such an important composer features so rarely on commercial recordings? If it weren’t for his writings, the HIP movement would struggle to understand 18th-century orchestral performance practice. And yes, ok, we are told he “churned out” concerto after concerto for the novelty-hungry King of Prussia, but how can we possibly know that they are not worth hearing at all without enterprising groups like Collegium Pro Musica and open-minded record companies like Brilliant Classics? Of course, it is just a re-working of the Stravinsky line about Vivaldi recycling the same piece ad nauseam. Bagliano and his friends have selected a concerto for recorder and strings, one with a flute added, a trio sonata for the two woodwinds (now in the appendix to the Quantz catalogue), and a G minor trio for recorder, violin and continuo. They are, without exception, well worth hearing, and very nicely played by one-to-a-part strings (including double bass) and continuo. It is a pity the programme is so short, in fact – with performances of this quality, I feel sure that most customers would have forgiven the inclusion of a recorder-free work. That said, I would rather have this slightly short recital than not have it, and I hope that I will not be the only enthusiastic critic, and that everyone concerned in this project will look to recording more of Quantz’s lovely music!

Brian Clark

We have had a second review of this recording from David Bellinger:

[dropcap]E[/dropcap]xtraordinary as it might seem, had J. J. Quantz not been orphaned at ten years old and sent off to his musical uncle in Merseburg, then he would probably have followed in his father’s footsteps and become a blacksmith. When the uncle passed away after a few months, his son-in-law, A. Fleischhack, took Quantz as an apprentice for five years, providing the solid musical foundations for advancement. From this humble background Quantz would rise to become a great composer, theorist, flute maker and player; finally ending up in Potsdam alongside Frederick the Great of Prussia, as his friend and tutor. Proficient on nearly all the instruments of the age, he most probably began on violin and oboe, yet early on in his career, he met and studied with the famous French flautist P. G. Buffardin in Dresden. In 1724 he set off on a musical grand tour through Europe. His stay in Naples with Hasse was to leave a keen and lasting impression. It was during a performance of one of Hasse’s operas that the young Frederick, future King of Prussia, heard Quantz, and the long-lasting musical friendship began. The legacy and volume of music Quantz left is impressive, around 300 concerti for one or two flutes, and at least 200 sonatas.

The accomplished recorder player Stefano Bagliano has carefully selected some fine works that display Quantz’s obvious charms and range, with strong influences from Italy. Some of the delightful, slow second movements are disarmingly tender, and with such a dulcet lyricism, one could easily be listening to a sweetly singing voice. Through the art of transposition the recorder takes centre stage in these flute pieces, only the opening F-major work is left in the original key, so very apt for recorder!

These performances on the budget-priced Brilliant Classics label are most convincing and tasteful, if occasionally a little muted in recorded sound, but the leader of this fine band steers us through some great Quantz and may have stolen the march on some flautists here…

Venetian Composers and their mutual influences
Mensa Sonora, Gabriel Grosbard/Matthieu Boutineau
70:35
passacaille 1035
Music by Albinoni, Bicajo, Gentili, Schreyvogel, Tartini, Vivaldi & Ziani

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he premise of this excellent compilation is simple: Vivaldi did not live in a bubble, so let’s explore the music that he must have heard in Venice at the time. To most readers that will mean the inclusion of composers who (even with the best will in the world) must be described as obscure: Johann Friedrich Schreyvogel, for example, or Giorgio Gentili. Personally, I had only heard of the latter because I was asked to edit some of his concertos for someone doing concerts in Italy. I am not going make extravagant claims for the music – nor, indeed, do the musicians; rather, I will suggest that, if you heard any of it on the radio, you would be hard pressed to say whether or not it was Vivaldi (with the possible exception of the sonata by Albinoni which struck my ears instantly, or perhaps the B minor Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro  RV167, but then there is another Sepolcro  sinfonia later in the programme that might fool you…) Mensa Sonora play one to a part and produce a lovely balanced sound with the solo part emerging organically from the texture when required. As obscure composers go, the author of a G minor concerto for violin and organ by the name of “Padre Bicajo” takes some beating – although Michael Talbot has argued that he may merely have been the owner of the sheet music and the composer was none other than the Red Priest… Whoever wrote it, it merits its place on this thoroughly enjoyable and edifying disc.

Brian Clark

Dorothee Mields, Lautten Compagney, Wolfgang Katschner
78:40
deutsche harmonia mundi 88985491572

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t is difficult to know quite who this weird and not-at-all-wonderful CD is aimed at. Almost certainly not the kind of listener who takes the trouble to visit EMR’s site. Admirers of the singer, maybe? Well, certainly Dorothee Mields is a justly admired soprano with a voice of pure, yet rounded quality and a fine technique that allows her to sing long legato lines with reassuringly secure pitch. Here there are odd moments, particularly in the Lamento d’Arianna, where her singing can be admired without too much reservation. But in general, given that she shows only moderate understanding of the stylistic requirements of the music and her Italian diction is poor, she can be heard to much better effect elsewhere.

The programme itself is an extraordinary mishmash, romping across music culled from the madrigal books, the 1610 Vespers and other sacred collections and not excluding a nod in the direction of opera with part of the duet ‘Sento un certo non so che’ from L’Incoronazione di Poppea. A part of? Oh, yes indeed. And the fact that it is a duet and there is only one singer? No problem. Just run Valetto’s opening stanza without a break into the response of Damigella (not that you’ll know until you read the booklet notes). Then stop. This cavalier approach to the music is the major hallmark of the entire CD. A capella madrigals for five voices? Once again, no problem. Just fill in the missing vocal lines with instruments, changing the orchestration every few bars to make sure listeners don’t get bored. A ground bass, as in Lamento della Ninfa? Ah, that’ll sound better with a nice bit of clickitty-clacketty percussion added. As for those boring men who commiserate with the Nymph? Oh, let’s just forget them; no one will notice. And so on.

The most curious thing about the project is the desperately old-fashioned feel it has. It smacks of the kind of thing people used to do to unknown Baroque composers in the early years of the 20th century. Well, we’ve moved on a hundred years. Monteverdi’s music now lies at the heart of standard early music repertoire, leaving this horribly misbegotten and musically sterile conception no place for anyone but the most undemanding of the singer’s admirers.

Brian Robins

Il suonar parlante orchestra, Vittorio Ghielmi
58:58
Alpha Classics Alpha 392

[dropcap]B[/dropcap]ehind the almost film poster of a booklet cover with galloping horse feet across the dusty plains, we encounter an assortment of works, some extracted from their familiar Baroque settings, and re-cast in an arranged gypsy mode, some pieces as arrangements of more traditional themes. It is rather like taking a whistle-stop tour through Transylvania and beyond whilst looking through a shifting musical kaleidoscope at this earthy, spirited, often rustic, stomping music. There are moments of captivating beauty too; the two guest musicians provide extra colour Dorothee Oberlinger’s sopranino recorder in one piece, and Shalev Ad El in the F. Benda work dazzle with their dextrous ease. The great gusto  and joie de vivre  of many of the other works shine through with the various soloists and a leader on great form. We pass through the foothills, the taverns, and country dances with the odd traditional song along the way. The front cover might have led to Telemann’s “Les courreurs” (TWV55:Es1 or TWV55:B5) or even “Les Scaramouches” (third movement of “La Changeante” TWV55:g2). The second Telemann extraction and arrangement, Track 7 on this CD, has gone for a bagpipe effect on the gamba, when the French clearly implies “Vielle” i.e. “hurdy-gurdy” or Lyra mendicorm, which in the original suite is couched between Menuets I/II and a Sicilienne avec Cadenze, and has real rustic impact! Here the drone dominates, and the snappier rustic tempo wanes. This recording offers more of the trend towards “Gypsyfication”, taking us from the polite salons of formal Baroque concerts into the middle and Eastern European fields, crossing almost into Istambul. Some of the violin playing reminded me of the great Stéphane Grappelli with lashings of improvisatory zeal. I wasn’t entirely won over by the Vivaldi, a tad more with the Mozart; the Benda was superb! Not to everyone’s taste, but a colourful tour nonetheless.

David Bellinger