Tag: Chamber music

The Paris Album
Ensemble Diderot
65:13
ADX 13717

The London Album
Ensemble Diderot
66:10
ADX 13718

Many readers will own and still enjoy the three London Baroque recordings from ca. 2005 that explored the development of the trio sonata in England, France and Germany. They ranged widely (the English repertoire went back to Gibbons), an approach which these new releases (a Dresden-themed disc is already available) complement by focussing on the later 17th century. There is only one repertoire overlap with LB – Rebel’s Tombeau de Monsieur de Lully–- and four world premiere recordings are claimed on each disc, all of them strong pieces. Keller’s Ciaconna in G major in the London programme particularly impressed me, not least because of its unusual bass line which naturally broadens the harmonic potential of the work.

That same disc also includes three sonatas by Purcell, all very fine but also already much-recorded. Was there no other suitable repertoire of quality? It’s hard to believe that, for example, Draghi’s excellent work was just a flash in the pan. The Paris programme resists the pull of the biggest name (just one sonata by François Couperin) but does give us two pieces by Brossard (whom we perhaps think of as a man who wrote words rather than notes) which are consistently engaging, especially when the bass viol is liberated from its continuo role to become an obbligato voice in the tenor register, a device also used by Blow in London.

I do applaud the ensemble’s straightforward approach to instrumentation – the two violins on the upper parts and just a harpsichord for the continuo realisation. The bass line enjoys the finesse of a gamba in the French programme and bass violin/cello in London but would an appearance by the gamba and perhaps a chamber organ in that programme have been appropriate? The actual playing is terrific – fantastic ensemble even at high speed and excellent tuning. There are a few flourishes from the harpsichord which felt a bit 18th century but that won’t stop me splashing the stars, not least because the booklet notes are for once decently written, decently translated and useful!

David Hansell

[Editorial note: In the early days of the online version of EMR, we allocated stars to recordings so that reviewers could be clearer about where they had found virtue and where they had found it wanting. (It also gave lazy readers a quick and easy way to decide if they wanted to buy it or not!) David rarely gave five stars in any category to any recording; for these two, he awarded the full quota across the board, so while he didn’t explicitly say so, I think you could say these two disc really excited him.]

Antoine Tamestit viola & Masato Suzuki harpsichord
Arrangements of BWV 1027-9, and BWV 5iii

Peter Wollny writes the liner notes to these arrangements for viola and harpsichord to make the case for rearranging gamba music for the viola, Bach’s known preferred instrument for ensemble playing. But, apart from the obvious similarities in tessitura and the fun to be had playing the gamba parts on the viola if that is your instrument, there are not many convincing arguments. We can indeed imagine JSB picking up his viola and playing one of these pieces to improve his children’s keyboard skills, but . . . 

One of the casualties of these kinds of arrangement which is perhaps most obvious in the G major BWV 1027 sonata is that the tones of the viola are so luscious that the right hand of the harpsichord – recorded rather more reticently – doesn’t really stand a chance against the viola. This is not a true marriage of equal tones, as it is on a thinner-toned viola da gamba, nor does Tamestit on the ‘Mahler’ Stradivarius of 1672 he was loaned for this recording really display much HIP awareness. It isn’t just the rubati and the fulsome tone: it’s those little give-away tricks like swelling through long notes and giving us a concernedly subservient tone for the ‘less important’ counter-subjects.

The tenor aria BWV 5iii is one of the few that is likely to have a viola obligato; though no instrument is specified the part is written in the alto clef. But however much this is a true trio sonata, the right hand of the harpsichord only becomes a true partner for a few bars at the start of the middle section from bar 69 onwards.

They are both fine players, but not well matched here. They play at A=415, but there is no information on matters like temperament. Viola players may be glad to hear these plausible arrangements, but many listeners will think that Bach’s music is best served by his chosen scoring.

David Stancliffe

cellini consort
65:44
Ramée RAM1911

For the most part, these transcriptions for three viols are reworkings of keyboard pieces and so are going in ‘a direction which is consciously the opposite of what was typical for Bach as an arranger’. The expert players, based in Switzerland, note that ‘many of Bach’s viola da gamba pieces are in fact rearrangements of his own works.’

They are mindful of the fact that at Weimar Bach wrote extensively for low concertante instruments, and the fugal writing of e. g. the Fantasia and Fugue BWV 905, the organ trio on Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland BWV 660 and the eponymous Wo soll ich fliehen hin (BWV 646) suits the low pitch and sonorous clarity of the viols really well. I was frequently reminded of my favourite version of the Art of Fugue by Fretwork. I find these versions more plausible than for example the Italian Concerto.

What cannot be faulted is the technical and musical skills of the three players, Tore Eketorp, Brian Franklin and Thomas Goetschel. This CD is another example of how Bach can be played in a great variety of ways on many combinations of instruments. No-one who knows the way English chamber music developed from Orlando Gibbons through to Purcell will regret hearing these dedicated players enjoying appropriating Bach’s keyboard music for their own education and enjoyment. The recording is first class and the result is a delight.

David Stancliffe

Rachel Podger violin
127:38 (2 CDs in a card triptych)
Channel Classics CCS SA 41119

The able and delightful Rachel Podger has recorded the six Cello Suites with a dancing fluency and an ease of manner which meant that never for a moment did I question her appropriation of this set of dance suites for the violin.

She describes how she grew up with them as part of her aural landscape, and had never entirely appreciated those classic performances we used to hear until she heard a performance on a Baroque ‘cello with its lighter bow. And began to appreciate that they were sets of dances. Later, when coaching cello players, she often found herself playing along with them. And then one day she decided to borrow them and play them properly, and has never regretted it. Nor do I: they sound fresh and light as the higher pitch and smaller instrument aids her characteristic fluency. She had wondered, she says, about the Sarabandes – would they have enough weight? I found them perfectly acceptable in this medium, and think that these performances are bewitching. Bach was an inveterate borrower and arranger of his own works, and – like Rachel – I can’t see anything wrong when (except for the Sixth Suite) they fit so perfectly.

She plays them, as you would expect from the tuning of a violin with G as the bottom note, up an octave and a fifth, which works perfectly for the first five. But what to do about the Sixth, written for a 5 string ‘cello? After various experiments with five-stringed viola and violin, she settled for playing it up an octave on her own violin, and getting her recording engineers to piece in the lower passages played on her viola. I cannot tell any break in the seamless result.

You may not approve, but I think they are splendid, and have listened to them a lot.

David Stancliffe

Le Consort
61:45
Alpha Classics Alpha 542

If, like me, you’ve only ever heard keyboard music by Jean-François Dandrieu, you are in for a treat – especially if you are a fan of the baroque trio sonata! Le Consort (2 violins, viola da gamba, cello and keyboard) play all six of his op. 1 (hence the CD’s title), alongside three trios by Corelli (op. 2/8 & 12, op. 4/1) and an instrumental version of the French composer’s “La Corelli”.

Published almost 20 years before Couperin’s Les goûts ré-unis, Dandrieu’s trios are so Italianate that honestly, if I didn’t know the Corelli pieces from two years of keyboard harmony classes at university, I should have had trouble knowing who wrote what. Walking bass lines, chains of suspensions, clever counterpoint – they are all here in abundance, but they are not mere imitation; rather, it is as if Dandrieu has turned off his “Frenchness”, preferring to simplify the range of harmonies in order to achieve Corellian “perfection”, and it is quite wonderful to listen to. (Geek alert!)

The five players of Le Consort produce a lush sound – suave violins with lithe bow work and a sensuous approach to dissonance, supported by an unobtrusive continuo team whose string players drive the music forward as required. The recorded sound is first class (as you’d expect from Alpha!). Essentially there is absolutely no reason why you wouldn’t want this fabulous disc in your collection.

Brian Clark

Johannes Pramsohler, Roldán Bernabé
63:04
Audax Records ADX13714
Guignon, Guillemain, Leclair & Mangean

Any new release on the Audax label is going to be more than worth hearing – the level of performance and recording engineering are astonishing. For this recent recording, the two violinists of the “house band” (Ensemble Diderot) enjoyed some continuo-free time in a programme of frankly daunting duet sonatas. The “usual suspects” are there – Leclair (op 12/6), Guillemain (op 4/2) and Guignon (Les sauvages et La Furstemberg, a worled premiere recording, and his Folies d’Espagne), as well as the little-known Etienne Mangean (op 3/6, also a first outing on CD). Pramsohler and Bernabé are perfectly matched – for proof, listen to Track 13, where the bow strokes of their détaché chords sound as if they’re played by the same person, then marvel as they toss phrases back and forth, swapping roles absolutely effortlessly. Of course, it is anything but effortless – these guys must have invested hours, practising this until they agreed on how each passage should be and then there’s the remarkable feat of pulling off such captivating performances. This is a disc I have enjoyed for months and am only now able to put into words how gorgeous it all is! If you haven’t already acquired it, or you worried that a whole disc of duets might not be your thing, please do your ears and soul a favour…

Brian Clark

Les Talens Lyriques, Christophe Rousset
109:01 (2 CDs)
Aparté AP197

Although first published in 1726, Les Nations largely consists of music conceived some years earlier. An example of François Couperin’s pre-occupation with les goûts reunis (the combination of French and Italian styles), it contains four instrumental works that each open with a trio sonata in the Corellian style before continuing with a sequence of dances familiar from the French suite. Couperin provided a charming explanation of how his motivation stemmed from the works of Corelli and Lully, ‘both of whose compositions I shall love as long as I live’. Amusingly, he goes on to explain how knowing that the French are averse to foreign innovation he passed off the first of the sonatas (which he termed ‘sonades’) as being the work of an obscure Italian composer, in fact an anagram of his name. It was, Couperin relates, greeted with such acclaim that he felt encouraged to go on and write the remaining sonatas. Although three of the works are named after nations – France, Spain and Piedmont – there are no specific national characteristics other than the stylistic elements mentioned.

The score makes no indication as to the instrumentation of Les Nations, but it is usual for strings to be employed, as, for example, in the fine recording by the Purcell Quartet (Chandos) involving just five performers. By contrast, Christophe Rousset gives us a sumptuous version with no fewer than ten players, including pairs of violins, flutes, oboes, bassoon, viola da gamba and theorbo, directed by Rousset from the harpsichord. In the wrong hands such a venture might have become a vulgar exhibition of brash daubing of instrumental colours, but so sensitive to the music is Rousset, so deftly handled and musical are the alternations that the results are utterly enchanting. Obviously types of movement suggest a particular instrumentation: slower movements such as those marked ‘gravement’ in the sonatas or dances such as the sarabandes, obviously work better with cool, sensually drooping flutes or expressive violins, while ‘vivement’ movements are well suited to the classic trio combination of piquant oboes and bassoon. To a considerable extent Rousset’s choice conforms to expectations, but it is by no means hidebound and occasionally springs a surprise, as in the noble Allemande of the Suite in the 4me Ordre, ‘La Piemontaise’, which is given to the wind trio. In some bigger movements like chaconnes or passacailles, Rousset parades a riot of colour and texture where the constant tossing of material from one instrumental group to another resembles nothing so much as jazz riffs. The results are exhilarating, spontaneous-sounding music making.

One or two memorable individual moments. The Allemande that opens the suite of ‘La Française’ (1er Ordre) features elegant interweaving between flute and violin, the balance between instruments (which is exceptional throughout) and rhythmic flow perfectly caught in playing that somehow distils the very essence of French Baroque music into this one movement. Later there is a Sarabande in which the two flutes caress in a kind of idealized reverie. The 2me Ordre (‘L’Espagnole’) finds the Allemande allotted to oboe/bassoon trio, where the wonderful modulation to the minor in the second half is handled with loving care. The Sonata of the 3me Ordre (‘L’Impériale’) was composed later than much of the music of Les Nations and is remarkable throughout. The most Corellian of all the sonatas, it opens with the violins weaving imitative sequential chains of gracious nobility, before proceeding to a brief Vivement given to the oboe/bassoon trio, a contrapuntal dotted Gravement for strings, a gently undulating Légèrement for the flutes, another quick section for the wind trio and a complex concluding fugal movement for the strings.

Finally a few words on the sound, which is exceptional by any standard That is doubtless in large part as a result of the recording having been made in the extraordinary acoustic of the magnificently lavish Galerie dorée of the Banque de France, once the home of the comte de Toulouse. I note too that the Banque was one of the sponsors of the recording. I wonder when the Bank of England last sponsored a recording of, say, Purcell? Mid-summer is rather early to start talking of best recordings of the year, but something remarkable is going to have to happen if this delectable issue is not right in the forefront of claimants.

Brian Robins