Kati Debretzeni, English Baroque Soloists, John Eliot Gardiner
70:15
Soli Deo Gloria SDG732
On this accomplished CD, Kati Debretzeni, the leader of the English Baroque soloists among other things, plays the violin concertos in A minor (BWV 1041) and E major (BWV 1042) as you would expect and then adds two reconstructions drawn from the harpsichord concertos – a new version of BWV 1053 transposed down a tone into D major with its singing siciliano middle movement and a version of BWV 1052 in D minor, which has long been posited as a violin concerto in origin.
Debretzeni recalls the moment in the Bach Cantata Pilgrimage of 2000 when the beautiful Trost organ in the Schlosskapelle in Altenburg that Bach had played and commented on developed a fault and they had to fit in a recording of BWV 146 the next morning before flying home. The first two movements of Cantata 146 with obbligato organ form part of what Bach used again in BWV 1052. A version of the final movement is in Cantata 188. She also reflects upon the large number of violin obbligati in the church cantatas with pleasure and clearly the interplay between these various sources has informed her judgment of how to reach back behind the decisively keyboard-style passagework with its built-in bass line to a plausible violin original which needs a reconstructed basso continuo.
I enjoyed her playing as much as her editorial additions and decisions. Spirited and rhythmically infectious, she is well served by her 3.3.2.2.1 colleagues from the EBS and the beautifully judged continuo playing of James Johnstone. The slow movements never loose momentum – how easy it is to degenerate into a maudlin self-indulgence – while the outer movements never collapse into a scramble. They are helped by the wonderfully warm acoustic of St Jude’s, Hampstead Garden Suburb where they recorded.
Like Debretzeni, I hope that her versions find their way into the repertoire of many violinists. Bach did not only quarry his ‘instrumental’ work for concerto movements but used material from the cantatas, whether sacred or secular, to provide the sounds of heaven, and from the number of recordings of ‘arrangements’ appearing now, I can see that the process of re-inventing Bach’s multiple versions is set to continue. When they are in the hands of players so immersed in the whole oeuvre as this, we have a good deal to look forward to.
These four suites by Johann Sebastian’s second cousin and near contemporary display his skill and invention. Cast in the form of suites with a series of dances, some movements feel more like concerti so close are they to the Italian and French models current in the cultured courts of the principalities of central Europe, where French cuisine and dress and Italian music were known.
From 1703, Johann Bernhard held the post of organist in Eisenach till his death in 1749, overlapping between 1708 and 1712 with Telemann. He was also harpsichordist to the admired court orchestra of Duke Johann Wilhelm of Sachsen-Eisenach.
J. S. Bach had copied out at least three of these suites for the Collegium in Leipzig, and it is because of this set of parts that Johann Bernhard’s music survives. The two Bachs were cross godparents to each other’s children, and Johann Bernhard’s ease with the French as well as the Italian style gives us an interesting glimpse of the cosmopolitan nature of this small Saxon court.
The competent players of the Thüringer Bach Collegium use single strings plus the director, Gernot Süßmuth’s solo violin and muster two oboes, a taille and fagotto, and one is heard playing recorder and traverso.
The performances are snappy, and sometimes a little rustic – some slapping of the instruments from time to time; but the major and in the end irritating fault is that the kontrabass is either miked far too closely or else just plays insensitively. With single strings, I would have been quite content with a violone or bass violin at 8’ pitch, but a substantial double bass thumping away – frequently joined by the harpsichordist’s lute stop – is an error of judgment and doesn’t blend with the rest of the band as it should.
The music was recorded in the Georgenkirche in Eisenach and from the photo in the booklet the players were standing just east of the font in which JSB was baptised. The essay (in German and then in English) on where this music fits into the high Baroque in Saxony is admirably informative. But there is no information on instruments or temperament, which would have been a plus. The ensemble has already recorded concerti by Prinz Johann Ernst von Sachsen-Weimar on the same label, and is clearly performing a notable service in making this kind of court music available to a modern audience.
The music is novel, fills a gap in our understanding of court life in the early 18th century and is tuneful as well as original. If you can bear the kontrabass, you will enjoy this music.
Schickhardt: Principes de la Flûte avec Quarante deux Airs à deux Flutes Edited by Nicola Sansone vi + 43pp. FL29 ISMN 979-0-2153-2555-5 £18.95 (UK retail; from website €16.95 + P&P)
After what must be the briefest introduction to notation ever (Schickhardt’s four tables with explanations in French and Flemish), and a fingering chart including trills, it is straight into the music. The first piece is all of six bars and played in unison; the second is shorter but has more notes and tonguing indications, then the third is already conceived in two voices, introduces binary form and only has tonguing marks for certain parts, then the remaining 39 pieces work their way through a variety of keys and dance styles as well as occasional through-composed movements. While the upper voice might “take the lead” more, it certainly does not hog the limelight; the composer is very careful to involve both players in a thoroughly musical dialogue. None of the pieces is longer than two pages, and the majority are far shorter, so these are study rather than recital pieces. That said, I can definitely see a market for this nicely printed volume.
Buchner: 2 Sonate a Tre from Plectrum musicum Op. 4 (Frankfurt 1662) Edited by Nicola Sansone iv + 16pp. FL30 – ISMN 979-0-2153-2556-2 £21.95 (UK retail; from website €19.95 + P&P)
Ostensibly published as a set of sonatas for strings, the “Viola da braccio” part-book for these two sonatas (nos. 10 & 11 in the set) give the scoring as “Flautto vel Viola da braccio”, so the editor is correct to publish them as recorder music but sadly a little hopeful in describing the piece on the cover as “Treble Recorder in G” – unless, of course, that is a misunderstanding of the English usage of Treble in this context to refer to Alto. Printed originally in the soprano clef (middle C on the bottom line), the opening phrase of Sonata X extends to E which is below the instrument’s standard range. But worse is to come – just in case someone was screaming at the screen about fudging that note – as bar 67 has a D, and then bar 78 has a C. Sonata XI has the same range, so there is little doubt that the music is actually far better suited to a Tenor Recorder. Were I to have edited this piece for publication, I would have ignored that fact that there is a separate bass part, since it is identical to the continuo line; rather than fifteen staves per page with the (also identical) figured bass squeezed into the available space, the layout would be much more comfortable. The music is well worth playing, and groups programming – for example – sonatas and concertos by Telemann for the same line-up should not hesitate to deploy these as variety.
Chaconnes and Grounds from English Baroque Masters Edited by Nicola Sansone v + 30pp. HS253 – ISMN 979-0-2153-2542-5 £23.50 (UK retail; from website €20.95 + P&P)
The eight pieces in this very useful volume are by Thomas Williams and Gottfried Keller (one ground each) and Gottfried Finger (three grounds and three chaconnes), all of them taken from four volumes printed in Amsterdam at the beginning of the 18th century. The range of the solo part suites the treble (=alto) recorder perfectly and the music here is far more demanding than in the Schickhardt collection above. Violinists should not be put off, though, as there is much elegant music here which will help younger players in particular to find ways to differentiate between each iteration of the theme above which they must weave their filigree. Ut orpheus has already published the source books (FL2, FL6, FL11 and FL17), should you fancy playing more of the repertoire than variations on a bass!
Manuel Rodrigues Coelho: Flores de Musica (1620) Vol. I: Tentos (1st-4th tone) ECHO Collection of Historical Organ Music [volume 3] Edited by João Vaz xxvi + 128pp. ECHOM3 – ISMN 979-0-2153-2606-4 £56.50 (UK retail; from website €50.95 + P&P)
I am by no stretch of the imagination a keyboard player. That said, in order to develop something akin to a reasonable technique, I remember shutting myself away in a practice room at university and devoting hours to playing Andrea Gabrieli’s organ music; it had the perfect blend (from my perspective, at least!) of sustained chords and moving parts, limited harmonic movement and few – if any – demanding leaps (especially in the left hand). That is also how I would described the contents of this excellent volume which contains 12 Tentos (three in each of the four modes). The original (as shown in the facsimiles dotted throughout the book) was printed on four staves; in compressing them on to two, the editor has (to my mind) sometimes been a little too pedantic (why print a superfluous bar’s rest when there are two other parts vying for the space on the staff at the time?) and not pedantic enough at others (where a note is inflected in one voice but not in the other, if the second accidental is not in the original, should it not be bracketed as an editorial insertion?) One small quirk of the printing is the notation of triplets; instead of the standard chunky 3 over the middle of the figure, this volume prints small 3s over the first note of each group which, in keyboard music, made me think they were fingering instructions. These are, however, minor faults in such an excellent volume. If I had access to an organ (or even a piano!), I think I might be tempted to sit down and play these pieces!
Cantatas for Alto
Lawrence Zazzo cT, Jonathan Manson cello/gamba, Andrew Maginley theorbo/guitar, Guillermo Brachetta harpsichord
74:26
resonus Inventa INV1002
The curious title of the CD is inspired by one of the most unusual of the cantatas composed during Handel’s youthful Italian sojourn, Amore uccellatore. The work itself has an odd background. It consists of two short cantatas, Venne voglia (HWV 176) and Vendendo amore (HWV 175), both extant in autograph scores and part of the repertoire. However a further unique and un-attributed copy in the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge includes a dozen more numbers continuing a narrative cast throughout in the first person. Handel scholars have until recently remained undecided about the authenticity of the continuation, but recent work now adds to the likelihood of his authorship. The result is the longest of all the solo cantatas (not, pace Lawrence Zazzo’s notes, all the cantatas), running to no fewer than 30 numbers alternating recitative and mostly very brief arias, some simple AB structures rather than da capo. The tragi-comic text is rather different to the Arcadian topics usually found in cantatas of this period, consisting as it does of the first person narrative of a bird as it tries to evade capture (and re-capture) by Cupid and five women. The metaphor is obvious, but the ending, in which the bird is finally left in peace after losing its tail (and thus its beauty), is not clear. The arias, a mixture of the light-hearted and serious, are necessarily contrasted for such a lengthy work. As Zazzo notes, it is unlikely that the cantata would have been given uninterrupted, so he has found short instrumental pieces and improvisations to serve as links, a formula that works well.
In addition to Amore uccellatore three other early alto cantatas are included: Udite il mio consiglio, HWV 172 (1707), originally for soprano, but here heard in the shortened alto version; Stanco di più soffrire, HWV 167a (1708); and Figli del mesto cor, HWV 112, chosen by Zazzo for their ability to form a satisfying group.
As is clear from the foregoing, it is evident that much thought and preparation have gone into the programme, so it is regrettable to have to report that the performances in general do not do it full justice. The principle problem is the excessively slow tempo at which most of the more reflective arias are taken, which coupled with Zazzo’s inability to bring texts to life results in interpretations that remain obstinately one-dimensional. This applies particularly to the three additional cantatas, which have pastoral texts conforming to the archetypal love concerns of shepherds and shepherdesses being resolved or unresolved, as the case may be. Zazzo seems to find more to interest him in the text of Amore uccellatore, particularly in the lighter arias, which he projects with greater intent and agreeable good humour. Yet vocally, too, I have heard him in better voice; the slow tempos contributing to both occasional insecurity and excessive vibrato, prevalent in sustained passages. Nonetheless there is always pleasure to be had from Zazzo’s pleasing timbre and ease of production. His support is technically unexceptionable, but there too I find little to convey the Italianate verve or lyricism inherent in the music of the young Handel. Ornamentation is fairly un-ambitious, with turns poorly articulated and no sign of such standard improvisatory devices as the messa di voce or trill. Otherwise on a musical level there is little here to complain of, but it is to be honest all a little worthy and ultimately uninspiring. The CD’s greatest value is its inclusion of the first complete recording of Amore uccellatore.
Musica Britannica CIV Transcribed and edited by Andrew Ashbee Stainer and Bell, 2019 ISBN 978 0 85249 956 6 (ISSN 0590-2954; ISMN 979 0 2202 2545 1) xxxvii (including three plates), 186pp. £105
This third volume of Ashbee’s edition of Jenkins’ fantasia-suites for treble, bass and organ includes the 17 entries in the Viola da Gamba Society’s Group I (comprising a fantasia, almain and ayre) and bothof their Group IV entries (where the sequence is fantasia, air, corant). There are four sources for the first group and five for the second and, with typical care and precision, the editor lists even the smallest variance between them.
I cannot recall ever hearing these pieces in performance. As Ashbee says in his introduction, the last two suites are entirely different in character from the first 17. For one thing, both of the string parts are far more technically demanding – the fantasy of no. 18, for example, has wide leaps and demisemiquaver (32nd note) scales as well as chords for the bass viol. The original organ part survives for only the first movement of these two suites, and even the figured bass that exists for the next three movements is lost for the final air and corant; Ashbee has done an excellent job in reconstructing them.
As usual with Musica Britannica, the book is itself thing of great beauty, printed on luxurious paper and handsomely bound. This is the sixth volume in the series devoted to Jenkins, and I am sure it will not be the last.
Just by the merest suggestion of any link to the superb Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin, the level of music-making seems already guaranteed. The marvellous array of chamber works gathered here by the co-founder of the famous Berlin ensemble are presented in such a way as to beguile and delight from start to finish! Not only is the amazingly dexterous, mellifluous oboe given full centre-stage exposure, but the excellent qualities of the top-draw instrumentalists follow in a trail of captivating musicianship. The opening Vivaldi (RV53) does that well-known slow-fast-slow-fast trick, but if the transition between these modes is truly faultless, the last two movements are quite stupendous! Next we come to an anonymous piece in B flat major, which uses a typical Telemann device of “Replique” responses in the two main instrumental voices, found in the Paris Quartets and elsewhere. The second movement seems to be a parody of a vocal line from one of his Harmonsicher Gottesdienst cantatas (TVWV1:447?) another quite typical device of hidden tunes used by him, equally prevalent in some of the Kleine Kammermusik of 1716. The Fasch work is a sprightly exposition of double oboes and virtuoso bassoon, perfectly written and performed to a treat. The links to Dresden’s fine orchestra become ever stronger moving through these excellent works. Next some known Telemann, one of his Sonatas Auf Concertenart, i. e., a neat blend of Trio and concerto styles; the soloists again display such an admirably vivacious interplay, one is swept along in their joyous wake. The final pieces show contrasting styles and varying instrumentation, the Platti is more conventional in layout, yet played with intimate skill, while the Hasse is truly a gem of a real master, the distinct timbres of the chalumeau, oboe and bassoon creating a glorious, warmly glowing sonority! The following anonymous Trio, possibly by Pisendel himself, leader of the Dresden Band. The violin part does seem to support this with its lively virtuosic interactions with the oboe, yet another high point on this remarkable recording which ends with a brilliant quartet by Stölzel for oboe, violin, horn and b.c.
What a superb selection of works, ideal for any concert, played with gusto, insight and consummate skill; as enthralling as gifted members of the Dresden orchestra itself, in a remarkable “pool of talents”. No little histories on the soloists’ past exploits or collective rewards are mentioned in the slim CD booklet, just a few lovely publicity shots; the whole CD concentrates purely on the music itself to such a rewarding extent! Top-draw!
David Bellinger
Click HERE to buy the MP3 on amazon (the CD is not yet available on the site – 13/1//2019)
28 CDs in a cardboard box Brilliant Classics 95885
Yes, you read the heading correctly – this set comprises 28 CDs of music by Michael Haydn! Best known for having a more famous brother, or (more flatteringly though “let’s not exaggerate”) the composer whom Mozart thought highly enough of to complete a set of duets for violin and viola, Michael Haydn really hasn’t had the best of press.
Now, at an amazing price of less than £2 per disc, you can totally immerse yourself in his soundworld. Unsurprisingly, this is NOT a Suzuki- or Koppmen-like methodical survey of the complete works; rather, it is a bringing together of various recordings from a number of companies (hänssler, oehms, and cpo, to name but a few) with period instrument performances alongside those by more “traditional” choirs and chamber orchestras; the opera is “modern” (with a HIP conductor to help), while the Singspiels are wholly HIP; two volumes of the complete string quintets (another overlapping interest with Mozart) feature extremely fine gut strung playing, while the quartets are played on steel. A modest booklet gives a biography of the composer and describes each of the discs; the card cover for each gives full information of the original recording.
As someone who has always enjoyed Haydn’s music (I remember the hairs on the back of my neck standing up the first time I heard a BIS recording of masses with oboe band!) I found the journey through these discs (some of which I had actually reviewed before) very enjoyable; his church music is especially attractive and it does not surprise me that it is found in archives across the German-speaking world. I did find myself tiring of amorphous non-HIP basslines and tiered dynamics, but that has nothing to do with the quality of the music, which in general is very high.
I recommend this to anyone into Classical music (in the strict sense) – I remember giving a concert in Dundee in 1991 in which we challenged the audience to identify which pieces we played and sung were by Mozart or not by Mozart; not a single person got the answer correct . If you played any of the present CDs as background music to a dinner party, I doubt anyone would be surprised to learn that it wasn’t Mozart too!
da Rore: I madrigali a cinque voce Blue Heron 120:49 (2 CDs in a card folder) Blue Heron BHCD 1009
de Rore: Missa “Vivat Felix Hercules” Weser-Renaissance Bremen 69:47 cpo 777 989-2
Blue Heron’s recordings of music from the Peterhouse Partbooks resulted in five compact discs which received acclaim and prizes, including the first and so far only instance of the Gramophone Early Music Award being made to an American vocal ensemble. It was therefore with a great sense of anticipation that their next major project, Cipriano de Rore’s complete book of madrigals in five parts, 1542, has been awaited. Unsurprisingly they deliver in spades, both in performance and in presentation, with a booklet including erudite but readable and informative essays by Jessie Ann Owens and Scott Metcalfe. Rore comes over as a natural composer of madrigals, and Blue Heron have the versatility to do his music ample justice. Perhaps sensitive to prospective purchasers contemplating the prospect of up to twenty madrigals in identical scoring being sung off the reel, Blue Heron preface each madrigal with the original texts, the majority by Petrarch, being read by Alessandro Quarta; suffice to say he declaims them as effectively as Blue Heron subsequently sing them. Rore’s 1542 collection was famously innovative, with its intense engagement between the music and the words unprecedented in secular vocal music, and it set the standard, including the use of five vocal parts, for the more serious type of madrigal till the seventeenth century. Basically his madrigals are a fusion of the Franco-Flemish polyphonic style which, as we hear on Weser-Renaissance’s disc, he himself exploited in his sacred music, with the lighter, airier, Italian style. Whereas some such fusions simply refuse to “fuse” in the wrong hands, Rore’s collection exhibits a high standard throughout. This makes it very hard to single out individual works to recommend. Thanks to the versatility and sensitivity of Blue Heron’s singers, and to Scott Metcalfe – the most stylish conductor that I can remember seeing (in Cambridge, 2016) – every work receives detailed individual attention. A work such as Quel sempre acerbo et honorato giorno could pass superficially as a Franco-Flemish motet, while Perseguendomi Amor al luogo usato comes across as what posterity would come to regard as typically madrigalian.
Weser-Renaissance’s disc is a different kettle of fish. Partly this reflects Rore’s own versatility as a composer. Although nothing quite beats the frisson of a live performance, one benefit of recordings is that one can listen to performances more than once and, if desired, do so soon after the first hearing, as many times as one wants. This certainly worked for me regarding Weser-Renaissance’s disc. At a first hearing I thought that the performances were inexpressive and stodgy, and the music, especially the Mass, turgid. Unwilling to sound off after a single unsatisfactory hearing, I listened again and the fog began to lift. Come a third helping I had reached my current state of admiration for both the singing and the music. The catalyst occurred during the second session with the electrifying music set to the words “miserere nobis” in Agnus I and II, and again to “dona nobis pacem” in Agnus III. Now I found myself able to listen in a different way, to hear the light and shade in the motets, and to appreciate further impressive passages of writing in Pater noster and especially Da pacem, Domine. In critical mode, I still feel that in the Gloria and Credo of his Mass, Rore is somewhat of a prisoner to his motto “Vivat felix Hercules secundus, dux Ferrariae quartus” which is treated as a Soggetto cavato during the Mass, in the manner of Josquin’s Missa Hercules dux Ferrariae. But overall it is a fine work, interspersed with several estimable motets, featuring imaginative scoring expressed through expert polyphony with judiciously placed sections of homophony. Weser-Renaissance perform it all sonorously ensuring clarity within Rore’s sumptuous textures.
This disc is a further exploration by the ensemble of Sébastien de Brossard’s library, their previous release having presented music by Élisabeth Jacquet de La Guerre. Here, we are offered instrumental music by Clérambault, a useful counter-balance to the image of ‘cantata king’ that has developed around him. As with all Bach Players programmes, there is a strong impression that ‘someone has thought about it’. There are three trio sonatas, two solo sonatas (each prefaced by a keyboard prelude) and two chaconnes, also for solo violin and continuo. Further variety is embedded in the music of course: especially striking are those moments when the bass viol engages in the contrapuntal discourse, sometimes to spectacular effect!
I enjoyed the programme very much. There is an unfussy honesty and a unity of purpose about the playing which most emphatically is not a kind way of saying ‘a bit dull’. One hears so many ensembles in this repertoire with kaleidoscopic continuo sections, changes of instrumentation for repeats. etc., that it really is a welcome relief to hear classy performances with everything in place that just say ‘Here’s the music. Isn’t it terrific?’. Yes, it is. The booklet will not disappoint either.
The Gonzaga Band, Jamie Savan 58:10 resonus RES10245 + Castello, Donati, A & G Gabrieli, Grandi & Biagio Marini
This recording is another triumph for Jamie Savan and his Gonzaga Band. The research on Freddi and the way the performing edition for these elegant and tuneful movements – largely taken from Freddi’s Messa, vespro et compieta (Venice: Amadino 1616) – is excellently presented in five dense pages of informed and practical scholarship of a high order, which informs the whole enterprise. This is a model of how scholarship and performance should complement one another
We are given details of the sources, editions, instruments, pitch and temperament used. Particularly interesting is the use of a digital Hauptwerk organ running samples from the Nachini organ in S. Maria d’Alleito at Isola in Slovenia and played by Steven Devine. In a recording that itself is digitally created, I can see nothing wrong with using such an instrument, though I wonder what it feels like to sing or play next to it where there is no wind reservoir ‘breathing’ with you. The only other instruments alongside the six voices are Jamie Savan (cornetto) and Oliver Webber (violin), who play Freddi’s entwined and imitative writing in a way that not only imitates the florid vocal lines, but gives the impression of a very much larger instrumental ensemble. The richness of the overall texture created with such slender resources is one of the appealing things about this performance.
Just a violin and a cornetto with the organ was what Freddi had at his disposal when the forces at S. Antonio, Padua where he worked from 1592 to 1614, were reduced to keep the music establishment solvent. The combination appears again as the basic instrumental group hired in for the feast of the Assumption at S. Teonisto in Treviso, where he had moved in 1615, and is a combination that appears in places in the writing of Heinrich Schütz, for example.
The psalms Savan has chosen from the collection are those proper to a Vespers of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and as in the Monteverdi 1610 Vespers, he has interspersed the psalms with works for single voices, and a number of sonatas by Donati, Marini and Castello together with some brief intonazioni by Giovanni and Andrea Gabrieli and a motet by Grandi. This is welcome, as fascinating though it is to hear the Freddi works, the voice and instrument combinations are limited and the textures and idioms feel much more samey than the widely varied styles of Monteverdi’s work – but then Monteverdi was trying to display the maximum number of ways the plainsong could be treated, which was not part of Freddi’s game plan. After repeated listenings, I found the music tuneful but not essentially memorable, though some of the instrumental sonatas and the solo motet by Grandi raised the game.
As before with the Gonzaga Band, Fay Newton’s contributions steal the show. Hardly any other soprano has her wonderful voice: light, bright and flexible, yet capable of astonishing changes of colour and mood. This is not to say that the other voices are not excellent – they are equally well-matched. So this is another example of how to create a wonderful but largely unrecognised musical world, where voices and instruments combine to create big effects with minimal forces. In today’s financially squeezed circumstances there is much to lean and admire. Plus ça change.
David Stancliffe
Click HERE to buy this as a download on amazon, or HERE to order a CD version.
