[Jacques Zoon flute, Bruno Delepelaire cello], Berliner Barock Solisten, Reinhard Goebel
73:29
deutsche harmonia mundi 888750839725
Sinfonias in E flat Wq179, & in G H 667
Concertos for flute in G Wq169 & cello in B flat Wq171
[dropcap]F[/dropcap]ull marks to the Berlin Philharmonic for continuing to explore early repertoire with scaled-down forces and specialist conductors. Here Reinhard Goebel guides them through four excellent pieces by a composer whose music is suited to many different modes of performance. That is not to say that technical improvements in the instruments and playing techniques does not deprive the music of some of its essential characteristics – the absolute evenness of tone across the solo flute’s range, for example, means that there is not audible sense of strong and weak notes, and likewise the orchestral string playing is so well regulated (with not quite enough air between bow and string for my personal tastes) that – with only a very few exceptions (when Goebel coaxes out some long notes at cadences, for example) – the natural variety of HIP sound is replaced by terraced dynamics and bowings/phrasings that sound artificial. Both soloists clearly enjoy playing C. P. E. Bach’s music, and the orchestra is similarly enthusiastic. Personally, though, period instruments and a little more HIP magic would have lifted what is good into a different category.
Christina Landshamer, Maximilian Schmitt, Rudolf Rosen STB, Collegium Vocale Gent, Orchestre des Champs-Élysées. Philippe Herreweghe
97:00 (2 CDs)
Phi LPH018
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he reliable Archiv Music retail website currently lists no fewer than 61 versions of Haydn’s supremely uplifting oratorio. I’m certainly not going to claim to have heard all 61 (you probably wouldn’t believe me if I did), but I have heard a fair few and also reviewed quite a number over the years. Most recently, back in our November pages, I gave high praise to a new recording sung in English from the Handel and Haydn Society of Boston under their current music director Harry Christophers. Now here is a further contender from another doyen among early music choral directors.
Perhaps one of the most remarkable things about the newcomer is that it has taken Philippe Herreweghe so long to record Die Schöpfung (as one would expect his recording is sung in the original German, although in this review I’ll use the familiar English titles for arias and choruses), given that it is now 45 years since he founded the Collegium Vocale Gent. Yet it is perhaps an advantage that only now has Herreweghe decided to record Haydn’s choral masterpiece, for it is a performance that combines the assets of his many years experience with a perhaps less predictable freshness of approach that constantly delights the ear as well as the senses. The experience can be heard right from the outset, where the Representation of Chaos unfolds with a true sense of mystery, yet one that remains under total musical control. Listen for example to the beautifully articulated ascending quaver triplets that ripple through the strings and bassoons like some primeval awaking. Or move on some 15 bars or so to the exquisitely balanced wind writing for flutes, oboes and clarinets. And so it goes on throughout the performance. Time and again the ear is drawn to some solo or concertante passage, invariably beautifully played. The start of Part 3 (where we meet Adam and Eve) opens with playing of the rarest beauty, playing that somehow manages to encompass both delicacy and nobility.
Herreweghe’s soloists are not well known names, at least in Britain, yet they form a more satisfying team overall than did that of Christophers, not least because the vibrato that I noted among his soloists is not a problem here. The men are outstanding, being especially satisfying in Haydn’s wonderfully pictorial accompanied recitatives. There both Schmitt and Rosen positively relish the language and mimetic effects, declaiming the text with vividness and communicating a total involvement that draws the listener in. Both are also excellent with ornaments and passagework. If I find soprano Christina Landshamer marginally less satisfying it is simply that her admirably fresh-sounding singing conveys less character than that of her male colleagues. She is also uninclined to provide ornamentation, most noticeably at cadential fermatas, which sound bald when completely unadorned. But there are times when the voice opens out splendidly and her legato singing, especially in the duet ‘By thee with bliss’ (Part 3), is lovely. The chorus that Herreweghe has worked with for so long is predictably superb, splendidly incisive and inspired by the conductor to build the big choral climaxes to thrilling effect. Among less obvious examples of its excellence, the pinpoint rhythmic articulation of the choral and orchestral basses in ‘Achieved is the glorious work’ reminds us that the foundations of The Creation lie firmly rooted in the Baroque.
There is no doubt in my mind that this elevated performance stands among the very best to have been committed to record. There is about it a joyous quality of the kind that has perhaps not always been associated with the somewhat sober Herreweghe, an intoxicating combination of supreme but never rigid control and true freedom of spirit. Nearly five stars all round, the one subtracted from Presentation being on account of the absurdly small print in the booklet!
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he name Antoine Reicha is one which has fairly comprehensively slipped between the floorboards of musical history, except for within one select circle of musicians, wind players. With them Reicha’s wind music, and in particular his wind quintets, has remained current and provides a useful and engaging programme filler. The present CD, part of the Thalia Ensemble’s prize for winning the 2013 York Early Music International Young Artists’ Competition, brings us two wind quintets and an Adagio for wind quartet and obligato cor anglais all played on period instruments of the early 19th century. This final detail may seem relatively unimportant in these days of the ubiquity of period performances, but in this case it was a major factor in my enjoyment of the CD. While tuneful and accessible, Reicha’s music is occasionally accused of blandness, but when the Thalia Ensemble moved into the more chromatic passages of these works the remarkable range of characteristics occasioned by fork fingerings and lippings up and down imbued the music with considerable individuality. Occasionally the tuning is a little bit uncomfortable, but as this is the direct result of playing the instruments Reicha knew and was writing for we can assume that these sour moments were part of his original intentions.
Perhaps any ‘blandness’ in performances of Reicha’s music nowadays should be put down to the regularising effect of modern woodwind instruments rather than any lack of imagination on the part of the composer. This tonal variety is further enhanced by the use of clarinets in C, Bb and A, standard practice at the time, but an issue which modern players tend to gloss over. Although details of the instruments the players use is sparse, I am guessing that Diederik Orné is using the bright C clarinet in the opening quintet and the mellower Bb in the second – the difference in tonal character is certainly considerable. And by the 1820s the mechanism of the Müller system clarinet was relatively advanced allowing for much improved intonation. As a flute player himself, Reicha writes beautifully for the flute, but what is perhaps most striking is his mastery of the wind quintet as an entity – perhaps not since Mozart and not until Nielsen did anyone write such accomplished chamber music for winds.
[dropcap]W[/dropcap]ilhelm Friedemann Bach’s is an interesting voice – part baroque, part galant and the occasional touch of Sturm und Drang. Here we have three harpsichord concertos, a lively fugue for strings and a four movement sinfonia. It has to be a matter of regret that Il convito have not explored the performance practice options inherent in their chosen repertoire. Single strings (including a rather heavy 16’ double bass) are used throughout where just a quartet might have been more appropriate for the concertos and then multiple instruments (with 16’) for at least the sinfonia if not necessarily the fugue. The booklet scarcely helps this rarely-recorded composer. Although the concertos receive a full commentary there is no mention of the other pieces, even though there’s no lack of space. But whatever the shortcomings of the issue the music is splendid – real virtuosity in the keyboard writing; Maude Gratton (a Bruges prize-winner on organ) delivers it with considerable panache; and against single strings the harpsichord is never overwhelmed though I did feel that it could have been a little more forward in the overall sound. But you should get this, and not just to round out your view of the truly extraordinary Bach family.
Ronald Brautigam fortepiano, Die Kölner Akademie, Michael Alexander Willens
68:28
BIS-2074 SACD
Concertos 8, 11 & 13 (K246, 413 & 415)
[dropcap]I[/dropcap] think the biggest compliment I can pay to these performances is that I didn’t really notice them. I was just aware of Mozart’s genius in this genre – which the players present admirably with many a subtle nuance and the rich colours of a period orchestra (strings 44222). K413 and 415 are two of the three concertos which the composer said could be played with ‘merely a Quattro’ though here they get the full treatment. The piano (McNulty 2013 after Walter 1802) can be both lyrical and sparkling under the fingers of this master pianist and avoids the tendency one sometimes hears in fortepianos of sounding out of tune even when it isn’t. There’s a lot I could say, but just look at the stars – I seldom give 5 for anything.
Elizabeth Watts Soprano, Scottish Chamber Orchestra, directed by Christian Baldini
61″
Linn Records CKD460
Music from La clemenza di Tito, Così fan tutte, Don Giovanni, La finta giardiniera, Idomeneo & Le nozze di Figaro
Edited by Wolf-Dieter Seiffert.
G. Henle Verlag, 2015.
iv + 26pp, €7.00
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his is not merely an offprint – it is a new edition. Mozart’s pages were split, and only the last page survived until a double leaf of the autograph was recently found in the National Széchényi Library in Budapest. Apart from the limited autograph sheets, the editor also found a copyist’s MS in Prague – an extensive report can be downloaded at www.henle.com. There are two early editions, in 1784 and what was called a fourth impression, though K331 was reset by three engravers.
I’ve compared the new edition with the Bärenreiter Collected Works, in this case quite late (1986). There is a difference in the first two bars: Bärenreiter has a slur for the first two of a group of three quavers, whereas Henle (referring to the 2015 edition) slurs all three. (I don’t edit Mozart, but the problem of slurring 6/8 or 12/8 rhythms in Handel, whose music I spend a lot of time editing, are often ambiguous.) Comments are helpfully noted on the musical pages as well as in the separate critical notes. The newly discovered four pages cover the end of the first movement and beginning of the second. (Why are the bar numbers not stated to show the exact beginnings and ends?) Could not the new pages have been printed at half-size on the two blank pages at the end? The Sonata itself is one of Mozart’s most popular works, and I expect that rival editions will appear.
Sarah Tynan, Jeremy Ovenden, Matthew Brook STB-Bar, Handel and Haydn Society, Harry Christophers director
98:15 (2 CDs)
Coro COR16135
[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n an era when creationism is generally regarded solely as the province of a few eccentrics, Haydn’s great oratorio is surely a deeply paradoxical work for both performer and listener. How does one approach it in today’s world, not only in the terms of the creation itself but also of a text that has Eve singing to her Adam, ‘Thy will is law to me’? Feminists shudder! One answer for performers, of course, is to take the work head on, submitting to the blazing genius and deep faith of its composer. That is fundamentally the approach taken in this live Boston performance from May 2015 given by the Handel and Haydn Society (H & H), America’s oldest surviving concert giving organization.
Like Christopher Hogwood (a predecessor as artistic director of the H & H) in his splendid L’Oiseau-Lyre recording, Harry Christophers has chosen to give the work in English, perfectly reasonable given that Haydn himself was keen to retain dual language versions of the work. Christophers’ decision is also thoroughly vindicated given that one of the major strengths of the performance is the manner in which it communicates the text so strongly. Both soloists and chorus employ excellent diction and a real sense of rhetorical understanding. The male soloists, the Uriel of tenor Jeremy Ovenden and bass Matthew Brook’s Raphael, are particularly outstanding in this respect, most especially in the magnificent descriptive accompanied recitatives that account for some of the work’s most unforgettable passages. Otherwise the contribution of the soloists is very good, if not perfect. All three voices, especially that of soprano Sarah Tynan (Uriel), employ an excess of vibrato.
Christophers’ slow tempo for Raphael’s opening recitative immediately leads Brook into displaying a wide, continuous vibrato, but thereafter he settles down to keep it under greater control, though his tone has at times a tendency to insecurity. But overall this is a fine interpretation, frequently displaying great authority and considerable nobility in the early numbers of Part 2. Ovenden, too, excels in bringing a strong sense of character to recits, ‘In rosy mantle’ making an especially striking impression after the exquisitely lovely opening of Part 3, the three flutes evoking the tranquility of bright, Elysian dawn. Tynan copes impressively with fioritura of ‘On mighty pens’ and generally with embellishments (she even sports a trill), but the voice tends to stridency in the upper register and I suspect she might be happier with later repertoire. The treatment of ornaments is not always convincing and fermatas lack the expected cadential flourishes.
If the choral singing by a sizeable force lacks the ultimate in finish and finesse, it certainly makes up for it in verve and commitment, the climaxes of the big choral numbers often spine-tingling in intensity. But the real hero here is the orchestra, which throughout responds to Christophers’ insightful, penetrating and ever sensitively phrased direction with playing of superlative quality in every department. There are really far too many examples to which attention might be drawn, but I will just mention the beautifully judged introduction to ‘On mighty pens’, the prominent wind parts exquisitely balanced, the strings’ dotted quavers and semi-quavers delightfully pointed. Vocal shortcomings perhaps keep this version from the top of the pile, but there is so much here to enjoy, indeed relish.
John Mark Ainsley Alessandro, Sarah Fox Aminta, Ailish Tynan Elisa, Anna Devin Tamiri, Benjamin Hulett Agenore, Classical Opera, Ian Page
117:12 (2 CDs)
Signum SIGCD 433
[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t is fascinating how this early opera from Mozart’s Salzburg period already includes many of the elements which would come to full fruition in the later great operatic masterpieces of his maturity. In spite of the stylised context, Mozart makes a real attempt at musical characterisation, and the orchestration is varied with a generous range of instruments made available by the Salzburg Archiepiscopal purse.
Ian Page’s sizzling account of the overture prepares for the delights to come as the overture segues flawlessly into the opening aria for Sarah Fox’s Aminta. The effortless elegance of her singing is perfectly matched by Ailish Tynan’s Elisa, and indeed the small cast of five principals, including John Mark Ainsley, Benjamin Hulett and Anna Devin are all superb. While the singing, like the playing, sounds absolutely authentic, there is a pleasing sense of freedom and a palpable joy in the music. Hulett’s effortlessly lyrical account of Agenore’s aria “Per me rispondete” is a case in point, where he conveys the character’s mixed emotions but at the same time clearly enjoys Mozart’s exquisite melodic writing. Listening to this wonderful music so beautifully performed it is amazing to think of Mozart’s employers, who repeatedly failed to recognise the unique talent of the man who was supplying them with such sublime fare. The two CDs are accompanied by a packed booklet including the full libretto and English translation as well as a comprehensive programme note, incorporating the latest research on the opera.
Matthew Rose, Arcangelo, Jonathan Cohen
77:06
Hyperion CDA68078
Music by Martín y Soler, Mozart, Paisiello, Salieri & Sarti
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he current enthusiasm among record companies for operatic recitals centred around a famous singer of the past is a welcome development. Not only does it make for greater contrast than the traditional composer recital, but it can also provide excellent clues as to the nature of some of the great voices of the past. Indeed, the examination of the music composed for a particular singer to determine voice type and range, etc., has itself become a musicological study. Here listeners, if so inclined, can play the game for themselves. So what can we learn from this CD about the great buffo bass Francesco Benucci, who was born about 1745 and is today best remembered as the creator of Mozart’s Figaro and Gugliemo in Così fan tutte ? Well, in keeping with the character of buffo roles one might suggest that Benucci’s talents lay in characterisation and flexibility rather than overt virtuosity. The obvious need to project text clearly necessarily results in a predominance of syllabic settings that cover no great range – ‘Se vuol ballare’, for instance covers a range from C to F1; we can gather from the climax of the cabaletta of that aria, too, that Benucci had a powerful voice capable to bring off an impressive climax, a quality also to be heard here in Gugliemo’s splendid showpiece ‘Rivolgete a lui’, an aria Mozart replaced in Così fan tutte because of its length. We cannot of course guess at the quality of Benucci’s voice, but it was especially valued in Vienna, where Benucci sang from 1783 until 1795, while a German critic wrote of its ‘beautiful, rounded quality’ while also praising his acting for its ‘propriety’ and lack of vulgarity.
In addition to the arias from Figaro, Così and Don Giovanni – in which Benucci sang the first Viennese Leporello in 1788 – we are also given arias from roles created by him in Vienna from Salieri’s La grotta di Trofonio (1785), Axur, re d’Ormus (1788) and Martín y Soler’s hugely successful Una cosa rara (1786). Giuseppe Sarti’s I contrattempi (Venice, 1778) is particularly interesting for being the first opera in which Benucci created a role. Here the characterful recitative and aria ‘Oime! che innanzi agli occhi – Pensa, che per morire’ finds his character Frasconia trying Papageno-like to pluck up courage to commit suicide. Also of note are extracts from the two Salieri operas: Trofonio’s mock ‘ombre’ scena ‘Ch’ite per l’aere’ is clearly a parody on Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice, complete with chorus of spirits, while ‘Idol vano’ offers a rare opportunity to hear a more serious aria composed for Benucci in the mezzo caraterre role of Axur, the greater degree of coloratura strikingly apparent in the context of other arias on the CD.
So how does British bass-baritone Matthew Rose fare with the ‘Benucci test’? Rather well, actually. The voice can certainly be described as having a ‘beautiful, rounded’ quality and it is evenly produced across its range, with an admirable lack of intrusive vibrato. Rose also brings a sense of character to the roles he is portraying (never easy in a recital) – I particularly like the sense of malicious fun intimated in Leporello’s ‘catalogue’ aria (let’s not forget there is more than an element of his master in the servant’s make-up) – and there is certainly a sense of propriety in not concluding ‘Se vuol ballare’ an octave higher than written. I feel Benucci would have probably been more precise with his ornaments (the single trill Rose attempts is a half-hearted effort) and would probably have sung more of them. Mention also needs to be made of the admirable cameo appearances of sopranos Katherine Watson (as Dorabella) and Anna Devin (as Zerlina). Rose is admirably supported throughout by a rather larger Arcangelo than we usually hear. The wind and brass departments boast some of London’s best period instrument players, who relish the opportunities given them by Mozart’s wind writing. Jonathan Cohen’s direction is notable not only for the sympathetic support given to Rose, but the spirited, acutely observed performances of the overtures to Figaro, Don Giovanni and Paisiello’s hugely successful Il re Teodoro in Venezia (Vienna, 1784), from which it might have been appropriate to hear an aria. Still, with a playing time of 77 minutes one can hardly complain about what is not on a disc that achieves the rare distinction of being both of great interest and thoroughly entertaining.
