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Recording

Telemann: Auf Christenheit!

Frankfurter Festmusiken 1716
Soloists, Kölner Akademie, Michael Alexander Willens
142:35 (2 CDs)
cpo 555584-2

Sometime around the beginning of 1712, Telemann wrote an application to the Frankfurt free city authority to apply for the post of director of music, stating in the process that he wished to ‘quit court life [he had been employed by the Eisenach court since 1708] and take up a quieter one’. He was appointed to the post in March. In Frankfurt, Telemann’s brief was not dissimilar to that of Bach in Leipzig, including composing church music and occasional works for civic occasions. Of these, almost certainly the most lavish were those celebrating the birth of the Hereditary Prince Leopold to the Habsburg Emperor Charles VI and the Empress Elizabeth on 13 April 1716, an event of great political significance since Leopold became the much-longed-for heir apparent to the Holy Roman Empire, hopes dashed only months later when the baby died in November. (A daughter, Maria Theresa, would become the first Empress to rule).

Plans for Frankfurt to celebrate were set on foot for May 17, Telemann being commissioned for a sacred work to words by Georg Pritius, the preacher of the sermon. The resultant work, ‘Auf Christenheit begeh ein Freudenfest’ (TWV 12: 1a/b), was planned on a suitably lavish scale, with full scoring including three trumpets and timpani. It is cast in two parts, the first to be given before the sermon, the second after. In that sense it follows the plan of many of Bach’s cantatas, but in others it varies considerably, not least the extensive use of accompanied recitative (accompagnati), often used to colourful effect including obbligato parts, particularly for oboe, for which Telemann had the participation of the Berlin virtuoso Peter Glösch in addition to a strong line-up of vocal soloists, some brought in from the court at Darmstadt. The arias are mostly of the strophic or through-composed type and are without exception full of incidental delights and colourful scoring. The entire work is indeed a joy, here enhanced by splendid singing from the soloists, all of whom deserve mention: Hanna Herfurtner and Elena Harsányi (sopranos), Elvira Bill (alto), Georg Poplutz (tenor), and Thomas Bonni (basss), the last named particularly characterful. The chorus consists of the same voices. This entrancing work is directed with idiomatic élan by the experienced Michael Alexander Willens,* it being worth adding that those concertante oboe parts are throughout superbly played by Katharina Andres.

As if this treat in wasn’t enough, festivities continued with a banquet for those entitled to attend and more plebeian celebrations – including military shows with cannons, etc. –for those that weren’t. In the evening, those still on their feet attended an open-air performance of a large-scale serenata by the city’s director of music, who it seems may have suggested it himself (what price a ‘quieter’ life!). In keeping with such festive works, the characters of Deutschland grünt und blüht im Friede (TWV 12:1c) are mainly allegorical, there being no dramatic content. The scoring is even more sumptuous than that of the church work, its forces being supplemented by a pair of horns and three (!) bassoons, while the choral writing is in eight parts, a point rather amusingly brought into the text by the chorus. In contrast to the church music, the arias are mainly in the expected da capo form, with plain recitative rather than accompagnato. Following an extended five-movement concerto, Germania and Irene reflect on the joys of the peace that has descended on German territories, articulating the relief felt by the respite from war, respite attained in the wake of the peace treaties agreed at the end of the War of the Spanish Succession. The mood set, articulated in an aria like Germania’s ‘Mein reich lebt in vergnügter Ruh’ (My realms live in happy peace), veers between the exuberant and more reflective, characterised by an alternation of cantabile writing – here beautifully sustained, if at the expense of diction, by Herfurtner, who also deals expertly with more florid episodes. Later, Mars – a role sung by Bonni with humour and gusto – appears on the scene but promises he’ll leave Germany in peace. The City of Frankfurt endorses the sentiments of Germania and Irene, which are further enhanced by the appearance of Mercury, bringing the news of the birth of the child that will ensure peace. The work ends with military splendour and the firing of cannons, reproduced on the recording. If perhaps not quite on the same level as the church music, the serenata is again an irresistible example of Telemann’s wonderfully fecund compositional skills. As with ‘Auf Christenheit’, the performance is near-exemplary and utterly compelling.

We’re told that the performance that May night was so successful that it was repeated not just once, but twice, which is extraordinary given that the work runs 90 minutes. Even more surprising is that Telemann revived the serenata when music director in Hamburg in 1733, a fate almost unheard of for an occasional work such as this, but fully deserved in this case. There are not many occasional works that have outlasted the occasion.

Brian Robins

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Uncategorized

Bach: Johannes-Passion (1748 version)

Julian Prégardien Evangelist, Huw Montague Rendall Jesus, Ying Fang, Lucile Richardot, Laurence Kilsby, Christian Immler, Etienne Bazola, Pygmalion, Raphaël Pichon
115:00 (2 CDs in a box)
harmonia mundi HMM 902774.75

This performance of the Johannes-Passion has everything: it has Julian Prégardien on fine form as the Evangelista, and a fine operatic baritone (new to me) – Huw Montague Rendall – as Jesus, as well as starry singers like Lucile Richardot and Christian Immler in the line-up. It has the violas d’amore and theorbo of the 1723 version, and the bassono grosso of the last. It has a complex continuo scoring involving cello, double bass, theorbo, harpsichord and organ – a quite substantial instrument with at least principals 8’, 4’ and 2’ rather than the usual little box organ based on an 8’ stopped flute: but we are given no details of this instrument (which I suspect is at some distance from the main body of the performers). This leaves Pichon free to vary the continuo line where (in the Evangelist’s recitative at least) the sonorous double bass is a constant at 16’.

The soprano aria Ich folge has just the ’cello and theorbo, and the agile yet mellifluous tenor Erwäge the theorbo likewise, with, I think, the harpsichord sometimes as well. These, and Huw Montague Rendall’s Betrachte, are beautifully sung as are the arias in Part II: Richardot’s Es ist Vollbracht has that out-of-this-world tone which makes her such a striking interpreter of texts like this, and Huw Montague Rendall has the lyrical depth to give us a matchless Mein teurer Heiland – not too jaunty and hurried but with that hint of a D major resurrection in the moment of death. Not everyone will like the underlying philosophy that the singers in the arias are accompanied by the instruments rather than equal partners with them, as Zerfliesse reveals most clearly.

The splendidly drilled choir of 6.4.4.5 (a little light on alto tone) always sings separately from the six principal singers; it is miked independently so that the balance between choir, orchestra (5.4.3.1.1 strings) and soloists can be balanced artificially. All this, of course, is standard recording practice, and makes for a fine dramatic whole, which Raphaël Pichon in his liner notes spells out in his enthusiastic way, showing that he understands Bach’s take on the theology of St John’s passion gospel: The hinge-point choral Durch dein Gefängnis is sung pianissimo and unaccompanied to make the point. But when every moment of the Evangelista’s narrative is milked for its drama, then we start to suffer overkill.

Is this a conception that Johann Sebastian would recognise? Most disconcertingly for me, the exchanges between the Evangelista and the turba are between people on different planets: However sharply the turba sing and however beguiling the Evangelista woos them into his story, they yield two different sound worlds. This will be true of all performances in which the singers are divided in the modern way into being either soloists or members of the choir. This performance contradicts – as do many modern takes on the Johannes-Passion – not only what we know about how Bach conceived his music but also about how it was received. Bach’s principal singers were the basic chorus – the core participants in his Passions – to which others were added. It was emphatically not like opera, a spectacle out there with distinct roles at which we, the distant spectators, marvelled. It is we who are the participants: We are both the agents of the drama and at the same time the worshippers in church on Good Friday. A performance of the Johannes-Passion that strives for the pinnacle of excellence in its individual components may fall down on the one thing that is absolutely essential – the interconnectedness of the individual parts to the whole.

Listeners need to make up their own minds about performances like this, which many will admire and assume that this is just what Bach would have wanted. It will fill concert halls and sell the CDs. But for me, the central factor – the integrity of the whole – is missing.

David Stancliffe

Categories
Recording

Divine Impresario

Nicolini on Stage
Randall Scotting countertenor, Mary Bevan soprano, Academy of Ancient Music, directed by Laurence Cummings
78:37
signum classics SIGCD986

This CD concentrates on the career and repertoire of Nicolò Grimaldi, one of the first celebrity castrati and better known to his adoring public by the stage name Nicolini – the famous theatre-goer Samuel Pepys mentions the first of the Italian castrati to visit London in the years prior to Nicolini’s residence, although he is unimpressed. Famous for his stage presence as much as for his fine mezzo-soprano voice, an account of Nicolini wrestling a lion while dressed in a pink flesh suit and singing “Mostro crudel che fai?” by Francesco Mancini evokes this bizarre phase in operatic history – I leave you to devise your own Pink Panther jokes. Such was the impact of this implausible scene on audiences that they demanded that the lion be ‘revived’ for a series of encores! Perhaps for those of us with vivid imaginations, it is fortunate that Randall Scotting spares us Mancini’s setting, singing “Mostro crudel” in the setting by Riccardo Broschi, the brother of one of Nicolini’s successors as star castrato, the legendary Farinelli – towards the end of his career, Nicolini actually appeared onstage in Venice with Farinelli. Scotting has a mellow mezzo-soprano voice, and in his account of lyrical numbers such as Mancini’s “E vano ogni pensiero” he goes a long way to explaining Nicolini’s enormous popularity. Fortunately for us, in addition to performing music by the likes of Gasparini, Porporo, Ariosti and Giaj, Nicolini spent some time in London working with the young Handel, and undoubtedly influencing the young composer’s impressive early efforts at opera. As well as giving ravishing accounts of the slower, expressive arias, Scotting is more than capable of negotiating the virtuoso demands of some of the more flamboyant music audiences came to expect of their castrato idols. He also joins forces with HIP royalty, Mary Bevan, for three lovely duets, while he benefits throughout from beautifully idiomatic orchestral support from the Academy of Ancient Music under the direction of Laurence Cummings, who also contribute a fine account of the Sinfonia from Handel’s Rinaldo. As intriguing as the arias from Rinaldo and Amadigi, in which Nicolini premiered the title role, are the arias and duets by the less familiar composers, part of the ferment of operatic activity in the early 18th century.

D. James Ross

Categories
Recording

Werner: Festive Masses

Magdalena Harer, Alex Potter, Hans Jörg Mammel, Anton Haupt ScTTBar, la festa musicale conducted by Lajos Rovatkay
70:29
Audite 97.836

I am forced to draw attention to the gross negligence of the local castle chapel, the unnecessarily large princely expenses, and the lazy idleness of the whole band, the present responsibility for which must be laid at the door of the present director…’ Those are the words of Gregor Joseph Werner, Haydn’s predecessor as Kapellmeister to the Esterházy family, ‘the present director’ indeed being Haydn himself. It is rather sad that the image of Werner with which we are most likely to be familiar today is that of an embittered and sick old man at the end of his life. Werner had been appointed as Kapellmeister in 1728, becoming an industrious servant of the Esterházys and a pupil of Caldara. His output was largely centred on church music, which is known to include at least 22 oratories, Masses, Requiems, Te Deums, Vespers and Lamentations along with secular instrumental music. Such a prodigious output suggests too great a facility, yet already in his great study of Haydn H. C. Robbins Landon had recognised the quality of Werner’s compositions, suggesting that his religious music ‘displays all this learning [Werner was trained in the Fux contrapuntal tradition] in a genuinely impressive way …’, while we know Haydn held his music in the highest regard.

The present disc is the final issue of five CDs devoted to Werner’s sacred works, though it is the only one to come my way up to now. It includes two so-called ‘festive’ masses scored for a pair of trumpets, timpani and strings, the Missa ‘Trinitas in unitate veneranda’ and the Missa ‘Iam hyems transiit’, though the disappointingly brief notes by conductor Lajos Rovatkay tell us nothing of their progeny. In addition, there is a brief motet also based on ‘Iam hyems transiit’, a setting of especially lovely lines from chapter 2 of the Song of Solomon, and an even briefer three-movement ‘Symphonia Tertia’ for strings. Both Masses are multi-faceted works that range from the contrapuntal writing one would expect from a composer trained in the wake of the Viennese Masses of Fux and Caldara, through homophonic choral writing to extensive solos and ensembles. Indeed, the extent of the often quite florid solo and ensemble passages is unusual for this kind of work, the more so since it manages to avoid overt operatic influence. But most striking of all is that both Masses are imbued with both a joyous spirit and humane warmth that I do not find in Fux or Caldara, combined with an elegant grace and, at times, intensely moving writing at more solemn moments of the text. For example, the setting of ‘Et incarnatus’ in both Masses is quite different, but in both brings a moment of quiet inner reflection with exquisite harmonies including touches of chromaticism, a distinctive strength of Werner’s writing on the evidence of both these Masses. In the ‘Trinitas’ Mass, ‘Crucifixus’ is a long, melismatic bass solo, its winding line here negotiated by Anton Haupt with sensitive skill, while the equivalent section in the ‘Iam hyems transiit’ Mass is a beautifully worked solo quartet that includes some especially piquant harmonies. So many striking moments clamour for attention. An early example arrives with the second Kyrie of the ‘Trinitas’ Mass, no repetition of Kyrie I but a movement built from the bass up to culminate in a resplendent climax for the whole Kyrie. The unusually-structured motet, presumably intended for performance with its offspring Mass, opens with a verse scored for the same forces before continuing to a tenor recitative and aria. It concludes with a brilliant Alleluia.

Both Masses are a revelation, their effect enhanced by the outstanding performances by Hannover-based la festa musicale. I don’t know the strength of the forces employed by the Esterházys during Werner’s tenure, but the modest numbers involved here – two-per-part chorus plus a pair of trumpets, tympani and small string ensemble – work well, with the fully-scored festive passages being projected with full brilliance and more intimate moments sensitively handled. All four soloists are quite outstanding either in solo passages or participating in the various ensembles, which reveal an excellent blend. Passage work is uniformly cleanly negotiated; I was especially impressed with the pure but warmly characterful soprano of Magdalene Harer, a name new to me. The conducting of the veteran Hungarian-born conductor Lajos Rovatkay is throughout idiomatic and responsive. Sad to relate that Rovatkay died at the start of 2026 at the age of 92. Renowned for his place in the development of early music study and performance in north Germany, his Werner series will alone stand as a splendid legacy.

Brian Robins

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Book

Beate Sorg: Christoph Graupner

Biographie eines Hofkapellmeisters
Studien und Materialien zur Musikwissenschaft Band 137
265pp. €39
ISBN 978-3-487-17157-9 (Print) 17158-6 (ePDF)
Georg Olms Verlag

This excellent volume should be required reading for anyone interested in music in 18th-century Germany. Beate Sort has long been recognised as a specialist on Graupner’s music, and this beautifully illustrated, detail-rich study reveals just how deep her knowledge goes.

Using three contemporary bibliographical sources – and quoting them throughout the chronological narrative – she provides a comprehensive assessment of the composer’s life, and shines a light on the places where he studied and worked, and the people with whom he mixed in each of them. The appendix includes a list of those people, nine pages of bibliography, a very useful list of abbreviations along with explanations of 18th-century weights and measures from Hessen-Darmstadt (where Graupner spent the vast majority of his adult life as Hofkapellmeister), and valuable information on older forms of language used in the original documents.

All in all, this book is packed with information. It is unlikely that you would want to read it in one sitting. Still, the fact that Sorg has broken it into chapters broadly divided by decades and concentrates on different musical genres at various points makes it an extraordinarily handy resource.

Congratulations on an excellent piece of work!

Brian Clark

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Sheet music

George Jeffreys: Latin Sacred Music – 1

Edited by Jonathan P. Wainright
Musica Britannica MB109
ISBN: 9780852499740 ISMN: 9790220228575
xxxviii + 233pp, £135.00
Stainer & Bell

The full subtitle of this volume is “Liturgical music and motets for one, two and four voices and bass continuo”. The index subdivides the music as follows: Latin liturgial music (two mass movements – the first of them actually for five voices! – and settings of the Venite, Te Deum, Magnificat, Nunc dimittis, and Jubilate Deo), [2] motets for bass voice, [13] motets for two voices (eight of them printed in two versions), and 11 motets for four voices.

The very fine music occupies 198 pages of this typically beautiful Stainer & Bell volume. As an example of Jeffreys’ writing, let us consider a short section from the four-voice Venite exultemus Domino. “Hodie si vocem ejus” begins with solo alto in F major (the “home key” is D major!), answered by the solo bass (“Nolite obdurare corda vestra”) which modulates to A major within five bars; the full ensemble leads (via B major and a circle of fifths back to the home key) to a perfect cadence (“secundum diem tentationis in deserto”) in C major. Quite the harmonic journey!

After 22 pages of detailed critical notes come the full texts with translations. It seems Jeffreys learned to compose “like an Italian” by copying out music that his employers in Northamptonshire, the Hatton family, bought from a London musicseller. This volume, along with the earlier MB CV of English Sacred Music, and (presumably) the forthcoming volume 2 of Latin Sacred Music, will pave the way for more performances of his output, and encourage scholars to investigate Wainright’s assertion that the important role Jeffreys played in bringing the stile nuovo to England has been overlooked.

Brian Clark

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Recording

Leçons de Ténèbres

Paco Gracia, Etienne Bazola, Ensemble Les Surprises, Louis-Noël Bestion de Camboulas
66:49
Alpha Classics Alpha 1129

I suspect that for many ‘veterans’ of the HIP age (well, me anyway), Couperin’s Leçons will be forever associated with the Kirkby/Nelson/Hogwood recording (LP, 1978!) but, though sopranos seem to have been Couperin’s preferred scoring, his preface does offer the music to all voice types, with transposition where necessary. The gentlemen here are very capable, but to me they just don’t make the music sound special – and it really is. What I did really enjoy was the programme as a whole, with Couperin’s three gems, rather than being presented as a cycle, being surrounded by related works by Charpentier, Lalande and Bouzignac – this last a striking motet which opens the programme.

But there are performance practice issues that disappoint, in particular the allocation to multiple voices of music intended for soloists and fussy changes of sonority in the continuo section. There are also weaknesses in the documentation. Nowhere can I see information about pitch or temperament, there are no H numbers for the Charpentier works, and the graphic designer should know that white print on pale grey, especially when the font is small, is never going to work!

All of which is a shame, as the basic conception here is strong.

David Hansell

Categories
Recording

Mademoiselle Hilaire

Virginie Thomas
79:00
encelade ECL2502

Virginie Thomas has established a reputation as something of a specialist nymph (!), and with good reason. Here she effortlessly inhabits the persona and repertoire of Mademoiselle Hilaire Dupuis, sister-in-law of Michel Lambert and a key member of Lully’s troupe. He married her niece, and one can only speculate as to the nature of daily life and conversation in the house they all shared!

The programme offers a musical biography of the singer and involves both other singers and an instrumental ensemble (five-part strings and a continuo team). Being fussy, I have to observe that some numbers really are orchestral rather than chamber in their conception, but perhaps this is how the music was sometimes heard in the household referred to above.

No individual items stand out: the strength here is the programme as a whole, and it is well supported by the booklet, which gives contexts and texts/translations. If this is the kind of themed project you want to do, do it like this.

David Hansell

Categories
Recording

Charpentier: Motets

La Nébuleuse, Gabriel Rignol
82:04
musicaFicta MF8040

Recordings of relatively little-known Charpentier are always welcome – and, despite the explosion of interest in his music of the last 40 years, there is still plenty to go at. So thanks to La Nébuleuese for devoting their debut recording to this marvellous repertoire. Texts/translations are online. The forces are four singers (the ‘haute-contre’ sounds more like a falsettist to me and is not always clearly audible in ensembles) with 2 violins, gamba, keyboard and theorbo. Tempi are sensible, and the programme reflects the variety of Charpentier’s scorings.

Nearly.

The acceptance of ‘one voice per part’ has brought with it a tendency to blind us to the fact that more singers than this are sometimes part of the composer’s conception. It is thus rather ironic that the essay draws our attention to details of soli/tutti vocal scoring that we do not actually hear. And there are other aspects of performance practice with which I am not entirely comfortable, such as over-scored continuo sections and composed additional quasi-obbligato lines for melodic instruments.

So, for me, this is a case of well done, but do give full attention to all details next time. And I do hope there will be a next time.

David Hansell

Categories
Recording

Gelosia!

Philippe Jaroussky countertenor, Artaserse
70:58
Erato 5054197998713

The Italian secular chamber cantata was, at its best, arguably the most sophisticated musical form of the Baroque era. Far from being some kind of miniature opera – as performers at times wrongly tend to assume in their approach to cantatas – they explore a world of refined emotional response that does not exclude depth or passion. The audience for such pieces invariably consisted of cognoscenti who expected to hear both poetry and music of the highest quality. It’s a genre that, in many ways, suits the voice and style of French counter-tenor Philippe Jaroussky admirably. The ease of his vocal production is coupled with an ability to shape long cantabile phrases with elegance and articulate passaggi with admirable clarity. The singer’s long experience with this repertoire allows him to bring to it the understanding that added ornamentation requires a greater degree of subtlety than might be applied to an operatic aria. Above all, there is Jaroussky’s unique vocal quality – sometimes wrongly described as androgynous – that takes the listener to a place of security, a place where the singer convinces his audience that he could not make an ugly sound even if he tried to. If that suggests a near-perfect performer, there have long been caveats, too. Jaroussky’s diction in a repertoire that demands textural clarity has often been found wanting, while his lack of a trill is perhaps the greatest single deficit in his technique.

Jaroussky’s choice of cantatas on the theme of jealousy is a particularly felicitous one, including as it does favourites by Vivaldi and Handel, a superb example by Alessandro Scarlatti and, intriguingly, settings of the same Metastasio text (‘La Gelosia’) by Nicola Porpora and Baldassari Galuppi, composed in 1746 and 1782 respectively. The jealousy that forms the overall topic is often of a somewhat studied, pastoral turn, apparent from the names of the cause of jealousy: Filli (Scarlatti), Dorilla (Vivaldi), Nice and Thyrsis (Porpora and Galuppi), Chloris (Handel). This is not the grand, all-consuming jealousy of a Medea, but that of a shepherd who believes his shepherdess has betrayed him. After the cantata has ended, they will make up again, but for its duration, that pain will be keenly enough felt. Perhaps the Scarlatti is the one work here that does not follow such a format. Dating from 1716, it is cast in the form of an ombre scene, its two long passages of accompagnati evoking both literal and metaphorical dark caverns, shadows and fearsome images. The first of the two arias expands this nightmarish scenario, while the final number speaks of how the singer’s betrayed soul will haunt the lover who betrayed him. And here Jaroussky’s pronounced stress on the repeated word, ‘Crudel!’ is highly effective.

The Metastasio text is a different take on the topic of jealousy. Here, in an opening accompagnato – where Porpora demonstrates his acknowledged skill with this type of recitative – the lover pleads forgiveness for falsely accusing his lover Nice of being unfaithful. Porpora follows this with a fully developed da capo aria, a gracious andante in which the lover underlines his newfound trust in Nice. It leans towards the galant style and is twice the length of Galuppi’s equivalent aria. The latter, with its touches of the sentimental style, is texturally more nuanced, and if we might be surprised that Galuppi still chooses to set the by-now old-fashioned poetry of Metastasio, it serves as a pertinent reminder of the esteem in which the poet was held until beyond the end of the 18th century. The second accompagnato brings a dramatic twist. The lover now recalls that Nice is also loved by Thrysis and that she has bestowed on him secretive smiles that were once his alone to enjoy. The concluding aria is a somewhat enigmatic metaphor offering both composers the opportunity for coloratura writing, here executed with practised ease by Jaroussky.

He is supported throughout by his own chamber ensemble Artaserse, here comprising flute (in Handel’s ‘Mi palpita il cor’), two violins, cello, lute (a superfluous addition) and harpsichord, which plays well but is not above some over-fussy decoration. But overall this is a fascinating programme felicitously presented by one of today’s finest artists.

Brian Robins