[dropcap]A[/dropcap]nd so cpo embark on another exciting journey in the company of Monsieur Telemann; this time, the oboe, horn and bassoon players of the excellent baroque orchestra L’Orfeo will explore the repertoire that has survived for Harmonie (or wind band). And what a cracking start we have – three suites in F with “normal” oboes, and one concerto and one overture in D with oboes d’amore. Readers of these pages may recall my delight at a Resonus release called ‘The Saxon alternative’ by a similar group called Syrinx; in fact, the two D major works are on both discs, but I wouldn’t want to be without either! The L’Orfeo wind players are outstanding; sprightly, vivacious playing with sprinklings of neat ornaments and a great interaction between the parts, the horns really relishing the escape from their typical harmony-filling role. The one thing that bothered me, and it seems to be something I am writing more and more frequently these days, is the right hand of the continuo harpsichordist – it’s not a keyboard concerto; yes, if you’re accompanying a solo or a trio sonata, feel free to pick up the tune or improvise some nice counter-melodies but in this sort of repertoire, when the ear is already coping with four or five parts, the last thing the oboes needs is someone cluttering their sound space. While the booklet notes argue that these overtures belong as much in the chamber as in the open (where the sounds of the instruments would surely carry to entertain the hunting or picnicking aristocrats for whom they were written), I find the harpsichord extraneous and I cannot begin to understand the presence of a lute… That said, this is excellent music-making and I look forward to the next release in the series.
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]here are eleven fabulous two-choir motets by Scheidt on this CD, which were published in 1620; seven are scored for equal SATB groupings, the remainder in what I think of as the Venetian standard, SSAT in one choir and ATBB in the other (the seventh voice in C4 clef but lower than the other two tenors). What I must confess to not expecting was the extraordinary quality of Scheidt’s music – if I’m honest, he’s always been overshadowed by Schütz (as I suspect he has for many people), and while I’m beating myself up in public, I have to admit to not being a great fan of his either… The handling of the four voices of each grouping, and the juxtaposition or combination of both is expertly done, with echoes and building dynamics (by stacking up the number of voices, not marking the pages with a pencil!) In this respect, too, the Athensius Consort Berlin is exemplary – no nonsense, just honest, clean singing, serving the music not making it fit anyone’s vision for it. If the composer’s own choirs were anything like as disciplined (and full of such easily balanced voices!), his sumptuous music must have resounded around the chapel in Halle. These are all premiere recordings, and there are another 15 such works in German and 12 in latin still to come. The music is also available from Carus Verlag in typically beautiful and practical editions. The other music on the CD (specially composed for the choir by Berlin composer, Frank Schwemmer) is beyond the scope of my review. Let’s just say that – although I didn’t dislike it to the extent of being forced to reach for the remote control – the following Scheidt came as a balm to my soul.
Victoria Musicae, Josep R. Gil-Tarrega
63:48
Brilliant Classics 95263
[dropcap]F[/dropcap]rom the number of world premiere recordings on this CD, we are clearly being given a privileged insight into the relatively unfamiliar world of the early Baroque Maestros de Capilla of the Corpus Christi Royal College of Valencia. The music for Compline and the litany for the Octave of the Feast of Corpus Christi is composed by Maximo Rios, Antonio Ortells, Anceto Baylon, Jose Hinojosi, Marcos Perez and Joan Baptista Comes and linked together by plainchant. Given the present obscurity of the composers, the music is remarkably good, inventive and accomplished, while the performances by Victoria Musicae are also generally pleasing, with just occasional lapses in tuning. Dating from the second half of the 17th century, the music is performed by a choir, with five soloists, an organ, theorbo, violon and bajon. This is the best thing about low-cost labels such as Brilliant Classics – for very little outlay of money, you can achieve an unparalleled insight into an unsuspected body of music, which turns out to have its own unique virtues and charms. Fascinatingly, the music which to my ear it most closely resembled was the Spanish music of the New World, recently so in vogue.
Anna Torge mandolin, Mayumi Hirasaki violin, Il cantino
61:34
cpo 555 050-2
Music by Arrigoni, Capponi, Hasse & Vivaldi
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his delightful collection of concertos, sonatas and trios by Vivaldi and his contemporaries Carlo Arrigoni, Abbate Ranieri Capponi and Johann Adolf Hasse features the mandolin skills of Anna Torge. With superb musicianship, her simple little instrument brings this music wonderfully to life, ably supported by violinist Mayumi Hirasaki and the small instrumental ensemble, Il cantino. The most famous Vivaldi mandolin concerto is in C major, but the present performers offer a delightful B-flat major concerto as well as a delicate trio in G minor and a sunny C major trio. It is fascinating to hear the equivalent compositions by Vivaldi’s largely unknown contemporaries, which include an atmospheric trio by Arrigoni and a charming sonata for mandolin, cello and lute by Capponi. Johann Adolf Hasse’s concerto, which concludes the CD, introduces a further level of sophistication, with a wider expressive range than the Vivaldi concerti. There is a painting of Hasse’s wife, the singer Faustina Bordoni, one of Handel’s star sopranos in London, playing the mandolin, and Hasse may well have composed his handful of mandolin works for her to play. In any event, it seems likely that her expertise allowed her husband to compose with authority for the instrument. These performances bring out the subtle side of this lovely mandolin and violin repertoire, avoiding the brash approach often heard in other recordings of Vivaldi. A warning for those who buy their CDs based on the cover picture – notwithstanding the prominent appearance of a recorder, no recorders feature on this CD!
Fretwork
83:02 (2 CDs in a single jewel case)
Signum Records SIGCD528
[dropcap]B[/dropcap]ritain’s premiere viol consort gives wonderfully spirited and expressive accounts of Jenkins’ 17 Fantasias and two Pavans for four viols in this comprehensive and thoroughly engaging double CD set. Sometimes complete recordings such as these need to be dipped in and out of, but such is the variety Jenkins builds into his Fantasias, almost as if he anticipated them receiving complete performances, that boredom is never a danger. Compared to the other English masters of the viol consort, it strikes me that Jenkins displays two diagnostic features: his unerring sense of melodic direction which carries his music through every harmonic complexity, and his unfailing musical imagination which evokes constantly stimulating phrases from even a quite limited number of voice parts. Fretwork’s incomparable familiarity with this repertoire makes them the perfect guide through Jenkins’ rich collection of works, and just as their interpretations never flag neither does our interest. About halfway through the second CD it struck me that these are in general pretty upbeat readings of works, which could conceivably be played much more slowly, but Fretwork’s attention to detail means that we miss nothing in these charming and idiomatic performances.
Siglo de Oro, Patrick Allies
59:27
Delphian DCD34208
+ Music by A. Gabrieli, Handl (Gallus), Hassler, Lassus
[dropcap]A[/dropcap]lthough not related to the more famous Michael Praetorius, Hieronymus Praetorius is part of a musical dynasty based in Hamburg, a city in which he seems to have spent his entire life. This is slightly surprising in that his music exhibits a number of external influences, not least that of Venetian polychoral music, but it a useful reminder that, while some Renaissance composers accrued influences by working and studying abroad, many others simply studied the latest manuscript or printed music and learned its secrets that way. This certainly seems to be the case with Praetorius’ magnificent Holy Week Mass Tulerunt Dominum meum, which displays a heady mixture of influences, including that of the Gabrielis. The rich warm tones of Siglo de Oro recorded in chapel of Merton College Oxford are ideal for this opulent repertoire, but it is clear that both choir and conductor, Patrick Allies, carry a torch for this overlooked masterpiece. Praetorius’ music receives the ultimate test here by being placed in a context of some of the finest Holy Week music of the period written by composers such as Lassus, Handl, Hassler and Andrea Gabrieli. While all of these composers undoubtedly helped Praetorius mould his musical style, what is perhaps more remarkable is the individuality his music demonstrates. Through this remarkable mass, the motet on which Praetorius based it and a luminescent setting of O vos omnes, Siglo de Oro have cast a whole new light on a composer hitherto largely known for a few stock Christmas pieces and little else.
Tempesta di Mare
62:34
Chandos Chaconne CHAN 0821
TWV 43:g3, 51:F4, 54: F1
[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n some regards, the accomplished baroque ensemble Tempesta di Mare are emulating the very musicians for whom these two extravagant concerti grossi or concerti-en-suite in F were almost certainly intended, the Dresden court orchestra under J. G. Pisendel. Telemann not only knew this famously skilled concertmaster well, but also the eminent abilities of the musicians active in this well-honed orchestra.
This recording opens with one of my favourite Telemann concerti-en-suite, TWV 54:F1, which for many years was only to be heard without the pair of Bourees I/II found only in the Schwerin source on an early Berlin Classics CD; and to compound matters further, it was often confusingly catalogued simply as “Suite in F”! Thankfully, Tempesta di Mare take into account both sources of this really vivacious and almost mischievous piece; they spread their musical wings wide and fly; additionally, Richard Stone has astutely filled in the “bridging” trio in the da capo menuet, with an excellent reconstruction after extant horn parts in Schwerin. This is now the fourth recording of a fine work, truly welcome for all the reasons above, and the lively and polished performance. The following concerto di camera for recorder and strings now has more than a dozen recordings, and feels like a concession to the ensemble’s co-director Gwyn Roberts, who nevertheless exhibits her agility in Telemann’s fluent and accommodating music; that said, two other concerti-en-suite, TWV 53:g1, 53:a1, or even the later 50:21, would perhaps have better fitted the “billing”, i.e. main focus of this CD. Finally, we come to an outstanding example of the genre, in scope, instrumentation, style, and forward-looking, almost symphonic textures. TWV 51:F4 was definitely conceived with virtuoso violinist Pisendel in mind, and the seasoned orchestra behind him. The use of the very same paper as for the composer’s St. John Passion of 1749 TWV 5:34 gives a rough date of composition. Again Tempesta di Mare capture the ebullient drive and wonderful contours of this grandiose piece, flattering both the talents of the orchestra, and with Polish royal connections through Dresden’s Elector of Saxony, King Augustus III of Poland! One begins to sense what a well-aimed and perfectly conceived exposition of music this is. It is worth noting that they eschew Telemann’s alternative trumpet parts for the penultimate “Pollacca” movement, before the closing stately menuets; a seven-movement tour de force which Tempesta di Mare tackle with typical flourish and flair.
[dropcap]B[/dropcap]ehind the unforgettable front cover image of a sad-looking lion door knocker from Leipzig’s Thomaskirche lurk two very fine talents; one the often underrated keyboard composer, Telemann, and the other a wonderfully gifted 24-year-old Japanese harpsichordist who, without a single lesson on period instruments, won the 27th Yamanashi international competition for Early Music. He now studies under Prof.Glen Wilson at the Musikhochschule Würzburg. For his debut CD recording, he has selected these fascinating pieces which were published in Nürnberg between 1745 and 1749 and display a fusion of national styles in condensed form. These interesting works both highlight and reflect Telemann’s own musical spectrum, offering us some conventional Ouvertures with their fugato workings as well as more sonata-like movements; the second of these with hints of the Polish mode in the final Scherzando sections. Ouverture V (Track 13) has a much more Italianate feel, and that of Ouverture III (Track 7) is a freestyle French Gigue in 6/4. These works do not follow the conventional choices of dances following after the opening Ouverture; further examples of this form may be found in TWV32:13-18. But let’s not stray from the remarkable musicianship of this gifted young man, who brings out the various elements of these blended pieces with a skill beyond his age. The future is bright and will give Gaku Nakagawa the opportunity to plunder the riches of the harpsichord repertoire of these nations in evidence and much more for years to come. Would have been nice to know what the instrument used was?
Martha Cook: L’art de la fugue: une méditation en musique
250pp
Paris: Fayard, 2015
ISBN 978-2-213-68181-8
Bach: Die Kunst der Fuge
Martha Cook harpsichord
73:62 (2 CDs)
Passacaille 1014
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he Art of Fugue has long intrigued performers and musicologists alike and much time has been spent seeking to explain its genesis and organization. The question is complicated by differences in layout in the two main sources: Bach’s autograph, which originally had twelve fugues and two canons, and a published version, hastily put together by C. P. E. Bach in 1751, which changed the order and added two further fugues and two canons, plus other pieces. Martha Cook has recently written a book, published in French, in which she proposes that Bach built the cycle around eight verses from Luke’s Gospel, beginning at Chapter 14, Verse 27. These numbers correspond to the gematrial equivalent of J. S. Bach’s name (27+14=41). Cook also noticed that the opening words of Luke 14:27 in German ‘Und wer nicht sein Kreuz trägt und mir nach folgt’ can be made to fit the Art of Fugue’s main theme. Her book expands on all of this and finds rhetorical correspondences between the verses from Luke and successive movements of the Art of Fugue (in its original order) which has led her to accept the plausibility of this theory of origin. While Bach’s deep knowledge of the bible and his interest in numerology are well substantiated, the evidence for a biblical genesis of the Art of Fugue is largely circumstantial and, to my mind at least, not ultimately convincing. Another recent theory, propounded by Loïc Sylvestre and Marco Costa (in Il Saggiatore Musicale 17 (2010), 175-195) and based on bar numbers, suggests that the whole structure is based on the Fibonacci sequence, an intriguing but again circumstantial explanation.
[dropcap]U[/dropcap]ltimately it is the music that counts and, while Cook’s theory must have informed her preparation for this recording, there is nothing about her playing or her interpretation which follows directly on from it. Indeed, while the theory would have suggested recording just the autograph version, Cook (while using its order) incorporates the two extra fugues and canons from the print but omits the two mirror fugues; this presents us with an odd hybrid. It is, of course, very unlikely that the Art of Fugue was intended for public performance in one sitting, and listening to it straight through on a single instrument like this can lessen the experience. That said, Cook presents a straightforward interpretation of what she calls the ‘ideal solo harpsichord version’. All the contrapuntal and canonic procedures are very clear in her playing but I find it a bit lacking in expression: the cerebral is emphasised at the expense of the rhetorical or the emotional. She plays a harpsichord by Willem Kroesbergen based on a Johannes Couchet original and uses a temperament reconstituted from an Andreas Silbermann organ of 1719 which works very well. This was clearly a labour of love from Cook and both her book and recording show a deep commitment to the Art of Fugue and its many facets. Both are certainly worth having for their insights into this endlessly fascinating work.
Cappella Musicale Santa Maria in Campitelli, Vincenzo Di Betta
56:21
Tactus TC 600201
[dropcap]C[/dropcap]omposed during a plague which hit Rome in 1656, and probably performed behind closed doors in St. Peter’s Basilica in order to prevent contagion, Benevoli’s Missa In angustia pestilentiæ is typical of the large-scale Roman baroque. It is performed here by the eighteen singers of the Cappella Musicale of S. Maria in Campitelli, one of Rome’s larger baroque churches. It currently houses a restored small organ ‘ad ala’ of 1635, made in Viterbo by Pellegrino Pollicolli in the Roman tradition, used to good advantage here to accompany the choir, as well as in organ pieces by Frescobaldi, Froberger and Tarquinia Merula, played by Franco Vito Gaiezza. Merula’s Intonazione cromatica with echoes is particularly effective. The disc presents a plausible reconstruction of a festal Mass with plainchant propers and other items, well sung by the church’s schola, as well as the organ interludes in appropriate places. The polyphonic singing is enthusiastic – often overly so, without much subtlety and with a couple of voices over-dominant in the full texture. They are accompanied by two trombones and theorbo, as well as the organ, and the resonant acoustic tends to emphasise the lack of contrast. The result is somewhat to trivialise Benevoli’s carefully considered antiphonal repetitions, without sufficient separation in the recording to mimic the surround-sound effects and contrasts intended by the composer. The reduced-voice sections like the Christe and the middle section of the Credo fare better; the latter’s seemingly endless ‘non erit finis’ is particularly effective. This is an enterprising project and it is good to see a contemporary Roman church choir tackling this music.
