Tag: Chamber music

4 Times Baroque
60:35
deutsche harmonia mundi 19075818232
Music by Corelli, Handel, Merula, Prowo, Sammartini & Vivaldi

[dropcap]4[/dropcap] Times Baroque are four extremely photogenic young lads with talent oozing from every pore; they are captivating in live performance and I am more than happy to report that their flair and panache carry over into the recording studio. Being one of those recorder, violin, cello and keyboard line-ups, some of the repertoire has had to be arranged to suit, but is none the worse for that. Slightly surprising is the choice to allocate the Follia variations from the end of Corelli’s op. 5 set of violin sonatas to Jan Nigge on recorder. Yet, as I say, only the most pedantic of dogmatists could fail to be impressed by his engaging performance. They are clearly very familiar with the music; the decorations of the D minor sonata now attributed to Pierre Prowo (though I’m still very convinced that it is Telemann!) could only be pulled off by an ensemble who has the music flowing through their blood. Elsewhere violinist Jonas Zschenderlein impresses in his Croelli sonata, Karl Simko gets a rare moment in the limelight in the second movement of Vivaldi’s RV100, and harpsichordist Alexander von Heißen (who is equally impressive as a soloist) provides an accompaniment that is perfectly judged to provide harmonic support and, where required, rhythmic drive, without ever protruding as seems to be something of a current fad elsewhere. I hope to hear more of these guys soon.

Brian Clark

Gillian Keith soprano, Florilegium
78:00
Channel Classics CCS35117
HWV202-210, 386b, 398 + Concerto a Quattro in d

[dropcap]H[/dropcap]andel set nine of Brockes’s German aria texts to music for soprano, unspecified instrument and continuo; for their recording, Florilegium choose flute (Ashley Solomon) and violin (Bojan Cicic) supported by cello and continuo. They are divided here into three groups of three, each preceded by an instrumental piece (op. 5/3 in E minor, op. 2/1 in B minor and the HWV-less Concerto a Quattro in D minor with obbligato cello). I regret to say that, while the instrumental playing is fine and much of the singing similarly pleasant, there are things that I found rather disagreeable, primary amongst them Gillian Keith’s tendency (especially in the upper reaches of her voice and even more so in some of the, to my ears at least, unexpectedly awkward decorations and cadenzas) to be rather shrill. I am puzzled why “one of Britain’s most outstanding period instrumental ensembles” would seriously suggest that the unspecified obbligato instrument would change for the B section of a Da Capo aria; I had a ridiculous image in my mind of a be-wigged flautist bowing deeply as his violin-playing colleague took over, and then the reverse occurring a few moments later. If there is a technical reason that the middle part of an aria doesn’t particularly suit the flute, then the most likely scenario is that Handel didn’t ever imagine it being played on that instrument at all. In fact, this resonated with something I’ve long believed of the many incarnations of Florilegium, namely their apparent lack of curiosity for new repertoire; I understand that attracting a concert audience relies on strategic planning – far more people will come to a concert of Handel than a hotchpotch of even fabulous pieces by lesser-known composers, but when you have done all the hard work and established an international reputation, CD recordings are surely the way to introduce your loyal fan base to the wealth of first-rate music written for your line-up – how about some Quantz? Or Janitsch – his quartets are increasingly well known, but few people have even looked at his trios…

Brian Clark

Elysium Ensemble (Greg Dikmans flute, Lucinda Moon violin)
59:13
resonus RES10207
TWV 40:7, 13, 20, 118-123

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he two instruments found on this recording were among those Telemann instinctively took up in his pre-teen days without any formal knowledge of music; what heights he would later reach. After some biographical details, the CD booklet rightly settles on Quantz, for in this composer’s Solfeggi  over 30 works are found including these “Melodic Canons” (TWV40:118-123) which were published during his sojourn in Paris, also known as his VI Sonates en Duo, for Flutes, Violins, or Gambas. Usually, we hear these on two violins, yet they have also previously been recorded on two flutes, and a combination of flute and oboe; here we have violin and flute taking on the canonic lines. With the flute used here, a copy of a Quantz instrument (c.1740) with two keys, we encounter the lower pitch (A= 392/400, so-called Tief-Kammerton) which does affect the brightness of these works, and slower tempi than usual are applied, resulting in elegant, measured readings. The chosen Fantasias for flute  (Nos. 6 and 12 in D minor and G minor respectively) again expose us to this lower, darker pitch. Perhaps the fine, nimble violinist could have had another Fantasia to close the disc? At just under an hour, the recording offers an alternative route through these neatly crafted pieces. Though not new to our ears, they take a novel approach; a pleasant recap.

David Bellinger

Wolfram Schurig flauto, Johannes Hämmerle cembalo
55:30
fra bernardo fb 1711192

[dropcap]O[/dropcap]ne of the many Corelli students to grace the first half of the 18th century, Giovanni Battista Somis was a virtuoso violinist and a composer. Much praised for his expressive playing and an influential advocate of the violin, Somis was obviously also an accomplished composer with a distinctive voice. He composed mainly for his own instrument, and the present sonatas are selected from his opp. 3 and 4, published in 1725 and 1726, for violin solo with cello or harpsichord. They are performed here by Wolfram Schurig on a variety of sizes of recorder, and while it seems unlikely that Somis would have too enthusiastic about this liberty taken with his music – he wrote a Sinfonia for flauto, and clearly would have written more if he had wanted to – these performances work very well indeed. Schurig’s easy virtuosity on the recorder and Hämmerle’s wonderfully supportive harpsichord playing are a delight to listen to, and while we miss the double-stopping demanded in some of the pieces (and also the wonderful bow control for which Somis was widely admired), these performances are very persuasive indeed. While Schurig’s programme note is mostly devoted to largely spurious arguments for performing Somis’ violin music on recorders, it does make the relevant point that, of all the Corelli pupils, Somis is the one who most quickly and completely stepped out of his master’s shadow to produce music of genuine individuality and charm. I would have liked to have heard more about Somis’ long career, and am frankly baffled by the CD’s title and the cover illustration, a 1932 snap of Claudette Colbert!

D. James Ross

concerto italiano, Rinaldo Alessandrini
68:17
naïve OP30575
BWV582, 588, 988, 989

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]here seems to be no end to the processes of second-guessing the inventiveness of Bach’s gift of parodying his own compositions. Re-cycling music too good not to find a continuing life was clearly a temptation to which he frequently yielded. A few years ago a chamber group from Philadelphia, Tempesta di Mare, produceded a CD of the Trio Sonatas for organ (BWV 525-530) arranged for a variety of period instruments by Richard Stone: some movements already existed as prototypes, parodied by Bach himself as sinfonias in cantatas. I much enjoyed hearing them, and indeed bought the transcriptions and have played a number of them. Now Rinaldo Alessandrini has taken a number of Bach works where Variations are the linking theme, and scored them for a few strings and continuo.

The results are enjoyable, and mostly pretty successful. The Passacaglia in C minor taken from BWV 582 (which Alessandrini outdatedly claims was for the pedal harpsichord originally) sounds well on strings in D minor. The way the melodic material of successive variations frequently grows out of the preceding figurations suits the four-part string instrument texture well, as does the polyphony of the fugue. This is a full-blooded performance, and lets you know what you are in for, in terms of a “no holds barred” style.

A lover of Vivaldi, Alessandrini sees the potential in developing a keyboard work into a rather fuller texture. While the Canzona (BWV 588) is a literal transcription, and the Italian Aria variations translate pretty straightforwardly into a sonata for violin and basso continuo, it is in the Goldberg Variations that we see him working the sketchy counterpoint possible on the keyboard – where there are frequent hints of a third or even fourth part in more polyphonic variations – into new, freely composed parts. Sometimes the result goes with a swing (as in Variation 1) or lets us hear in detail what the keyboard original only suggests. Sometimes it is too far from the original, and sounds almost like Brahms (as in the minor Variation 25). So, while I admire Alessandrini’s ingenuity (and his normally pretty minimalist continuo playing), I am not altogether taken with his arrangements here, though his rather spare sounds are certainly an improvement in textural terms on the chamber orchestra version recorded by Bernard Labadie and Les Violons du Roy in 2014.

All this is a long way from Stokowsky’s orchestration of the Toccata and Fugue in D minor, and Bach, after all, was known to improvise a third voice when playing continuo, but I am not sure that I’ll play these Goldbergs in wakeful hours of the night. Each variation’s scoring raises some new hare running in my mind, and I’d be endlessly switching on the light and reaching for the score. I’m more likely to keep it in the car for long journeys.

On the whole, it’s a stimulating exercise, and well worth doing, though for my money Tempesta di Mare and Richard Stone do it better, if you want to explore the possibilities of this kind of parody technique.

David Stancliffe

L’Art de la modulation
Ars Antiqua with Elizabeth Wallfisch
65:07
Nimbus Alliance NI 6347

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]hese six delightful “Quatuors pour un Hautboy, 2 Violons, et Basse” were published in 1755. Gambist Mark Kramer’s notes say relatively little of the music (in all honesty, there is not much he could have said, since these are the composer’s only surviving chamber works) but they do a marvellous job of setting the scene, describing the transition of taste and artistic and musical styles as the strict order of Louis XIV’s France gave way to the Age of Enlightenment. Philidor was better known in his own day as a master chess player, capable of playing three games simultaneously while blindfolded; thus, writing music in four parts in ever-varying combinations was no complex task for him. These are enjoyable pieces, very nicely played, but they are less contrapuntally complex than Telemann’s of three decades earlier, and – in terms of the rococo filigree that Kramer highlights – they scarcely rival the many quartets produced by Janitsch, his Berlin-based contemporary. Ars Antiqua perform sinfonie  3, 4 and 6 with flute instead of oboe. Their inclusion of a harp is probably justified on the basis of the instrument’s popularity in French music tooms of the period, and I suppose the original gamba player might have read over the keyboard player’s shoulder. Yes, these are quartets for six! And thoroughly entertaining they are, too.

Brian Clark