Tag: Baroque

Georg Kallweit violin, Björn Colell theorbo, chitarrone & baroque guitar
66:38
Alpha 540
Music by Bartolotti, Biagio Marini, Muffat, Pandolfi Mealli, Piccinini & Schmelzer

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]opped and tailed by two of the most fabulous 17th-century violin sonatas (by Schmelzer and Muffat), this CD sets out to trace the dissemination of Italian violin technique into the German-speaking world. The musicians call their duo “Ombra e luce”, which is a clever description of both their quest in exploring this repertoire and their actual sound, which is constantly changing, according to the style of the music they are playing. Colell only uses the guitar to play Bartolotti’s suite “di chitarra Spagnola”, and employs the chitarrone for a piece by Piccinini and then as continuo for an anonymous “musicalisch Uhrwerck”. Biagio Marini’s sonata “per sonar con due corde” will be familiar to anyone interested in early violin repertoire, but they will rarely have heard it played so freshly. Kallweit’s playing is flawless without being soulless; undaunted by any of the technical difficulties, he bows effortlessly, producing an even sound over the range of his instrument, drawing the ear into his world, as all the best performers do. After a long period of discs devoted to complete sets by one composer, or “greatest hits”, it makes such a pleasant change to have a well-balanced recital that (not withstanding the inclusion of the Marini and Muffat sonatas) shines fresh light on neglected repertoire, especially in such a lively and engaging way.

Brian Clark

Musicalisch-Türkischer Eulen-Spiegel (1688)
Markus Miesenberger tenor, Ars Antiqua Austria, Gunar Letzbor
51:48
Pan Classics PC 10339

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is the second CD devoted to music from Speer’s Eulen-Spiegel; where previously Letzbor and co. had explored the war stories, this instalment focusses on the “hero’s” amorous exploits. Interspersed with instrumental music (none of which quite matches the high-quality sonatas I know by the composer) are what, to all intents and purposes are the German-speaking world’s answer to “bawdy ballads”, performed (deliberately) in a “folk night at the corner pub”-sort of way. Now, perhaps if I had been in for an hour or so and partaken of some of the local beer, and suddenly found myself understanding the language better (as you will have to, since the booklet notes, informative as they are on other matters, do not include tranlsations of the texts), this might be a fun way to pass an evening; as it is, and even taking into consideration the valid point that we should not restrict our experience of 17th-century music to the what happened at this or that court, I would struggle to want to listen to this again. One, I fear, very much for the domestic market.

Brian Clark

Ensemble Marsyas, dir. Peter Whelan
68:00
Linn CKD 576

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his excellent CD takes advantage of two sets of circumstances nearly three centuries apart: firstly, that in 1742 Edinburgh was a burgeoning centre of the arts and of Baroque music in particular, and, secondly, that nowadays the ‘The Athens of the North’ is enjoying a second golden age of Baroque performance. In a programme designed to celebrate concerts given by the Edinburgh Musical Society in the mid-18th century, Peter Whelan and his ensemble give us five of Francesco Barsanti’s ten op.3 Concerti Grossi  along with a set of his charming Scots song settings, together with a march, an aria and a horn concerto by Handel, an arrangement by the composer of two movements from his Water Music. The horn was still a relative orchestral novelty, having been first introduced by Handel in his Water Music some twenty years earlier, and would have been a considerable attraction in Edinburgh. Whelan’s two excellent horn players, Alex Frank-Gemmill and Joseph Walters, also feature prominently in the Barsanti Concerti, which turn out to be works of superlative quality, in which the standard high Baroque pomp is regularly shot through with a poignant melancholy or enlivened by quirky folk rhythms in a style which is both masterly and distinctively individual. The crystal-voiced Emilie Renard, whom I heard recently singing Handel to wonderful effect at the Lammermuir Festival, gives a splendidly dramatic account of “Sta nel’Iscana” from Handel’s Alcina, while violinist Colin Scobie provides infectiously lilting accounts of four of Barsanti’s Old Scots Tunes. This terrific CD, bustling with energy and creativity, gives a vivid impression of Edinburgh in 1742 and at the same time conveys a marvellously upbeat picture of the current state of early music performance in Scotland.

D. James Ross

Barocco Boreale, Kreeta-Maria Kentala (+Siiri Virkkala) violin
79:31
Alba ABCD 402
+ RV 114, 511, 522

[dropcap]W[/dropcap]ell… – where do I begin? I suppose with a positive comment – somewhere under all of this there is probably a rather attractive account of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. However, in the modern compulsion to ‘bring something new’ to Vivaldi, we have many of the natural sounds subtly alluded to in the original, ‘realized’ by bird whistles, regal, psaltery and a host of other inappropriate instruments, while Vivaldi’s original score is practically deconstructed in a series of ridiculous exaggerations and distortions. All good fun, you might say, and clearly eminent early harpist and professor Andrew Lawrence King, who plays several of the added instruments, would seem to agree. Well I don’t. Having heard Vivaldi’s Four Seasons  horribly mangled by a number of ensembles over the years, I haven’t become in any way hardened to it, let alone more sympathetic to such treatments. By all means, write new pieces commenting on Vivaldi, as several composers have done, but don’t impose your own eccentric performance ideas which he would never have countenanced himself and which make a nonsense of his music. Surely the whole point of Vivaldi’s allusions to natural/folk sounds is that they are just that – allusions – and the minute you spell them out with literal renditions, shoe-horned into the original score, you have ruined his intentions. I have a secret inkling that all these attempts to ‘improve upon’ Vivaldi ultimately result from the chronic over-exposure of his music, particularly the Four Seasons. The answer is simple – give this played-out repertoire a rest and either turn instead to the other 95 percent of Vivaldi’s output that nobody looks near, or devote your time to one of the plethora of excellent and entirely neglected Baroque composers. It would be good to hear this clearly excellent Baroque ensemble turn their attentions to a more worthwhile project – meanwhile, slapped legs all round for this self-indulgent nonsense…

D. James Ross

Bach Collegium Japan, Masaaki Suzuki
72:12
BIS-2151 SACD
BWV1079 + Aria from BWV988, BWV1038, BWV1087

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his Musical Offering  is intellectually as well as musically satisfying, with a liner note introducing the reader to the – by 1747 – old-fashioned idea that canons (ten of them, to reflect the Ten Commandments) were the bedrock of a musical style that sought to reflect the majesty and incomprehensible greatness of God, while ‘modern’ music in the galant style sought primarily to relax and entertain without troubling the intellect or the theologically inspired quest for meaning.

‘Old’ Bach’s visit to Frederick the Great, where his son Carl Philipp Emanuel was keyboard player in residence, was a widely reported affair. As we know, the ruler of Prussia gave Bach a ‘royal theme’ and was astonished at Bach’s immediate response, and the versatility of his inspirations. Bach promised to work at it, and send the Emperor his considered response, and Suzuki and his companions play the Canones Diversi, followed by the Ricercar à 3, the Canon Perpetuus and the Ricercar à 6 before the Canons à 2 and à 4, the Sonata and finally the Canon Perpetuus.
This tour de force, in a very satisfying form (pace Silas Wollston’s excellent note for Nicolette Moonen’s The Bach Players’ Musical Offering  which I reviewed last July), is completed on this CD by the ten Canons on the Goldberg Ground (BWV 1087) and the Sonata in G major (BWV 1038) for flute, violin and basso continuo.

The Goldberg canons are written over an eight-note soggetto  (or theme) used in the bass line of the Aria from BWV 988. These fourteen conclude with an astonishing four-fold proportion-canon, the A & Ω of all canons. Fourteen also, as Suzuki points out, spells B A C H in numerical code: 2+1+3+8.

BWV 1038 has an almost identical bass line to a slightly later (and much less ‘modern’) sonata for violin and continuo where the fugal imitations were pruned to suggestions, and a wholly different feel was given to the music. I’m only sorry this could not be included too.

As you would expect, the playing and recording are both of the high standard we have come to expect from Suzuki’s forces, and I wholeheartedly commend this extraordinary set of musical puzzles.

David Stancliffe