Baroque Era
Era
Music from roughly 1600 to 1750, the era of Bach, Handel, Vivaldi and Monteverdi. It is the period that gave us opera, the concerto and the fugue, built on a continuous bass line with harmony filled in above it. Performances often use period instruments, which give the music a lighter, more transparent sound than a modern orchestra.
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Scarlatti: Il trionfo dell'onore / Rovero, Giulini, RAI National Symphony
Profil · Oct 2016CD$24.99 -
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Geminiani: Sonatas Vol 1 / Mosca, Pianca, Paronuzzi
GEMINIANI Violin sonatas, op. 4/1, 3, 6, 7, 10, 12 • Liana Mosca (vn); Antonio Mosca (vc); Luca Pianca (archlute); Giorgio Paronuzzi (hpd) (period instruments) • STRADIVARIUS 33853 (67:41)
William S. Newman, in his massive study of the Baroque sonata, listed Francesco Geminiani’s sonatas for violin and continuo (op. 1 from 1716 and op. 4 from two decades later) and for violin and cello (op. 5) and judged Geminiani’s knowledge of the violin to equal that of Giuseppe Tartini or Pietro Locatelli (the latter of whom, like Geminiani, had been a pupil of Arcangelo Corelli, though a more technically adventurous one), but considered his style to be more conservative. Of the six sonatas presented by Liana Mosca, Antonio Mosca (her father), Luca Pianca, and Georgio Paronuzzi, all but two consist of four movements (the others numbering three); none of the movements’ titles give a hint of their dance-like elements or rondo forms. Almost all the sonatas have been cast in major keys. Geminiani would later rework six of the 12 sonatas of op. 4 (including No. 1 and No. 7 from Stradivarius’s collection) as concerti grossi. While Mosca remarks in a personal note in the booklet that Geminani’s sonatas from op. 4 haven’t received a great deal of attention, Rüdiger Lotter included the First, Eighth, Ninth, and 10th (two from Mosca’s selection) in a program released on Oehms 356 that also included several sonatas from Antonio Maria Veracini’s op. 1 ( Fanfare 29:1).
Geminiani revised the sonatas of his op. 1 at about the same time as he published op. 4 and included in the new edition of op. 1 the kinds of ornaments that make so striking an impression in Mosca’s performance of op. 4, as in the First Sonata’s Adagio (and also that of the Third Sonata). In that movement, she also displays a rhythmic and dynamic flexibility to create a capricious expressive sensibility that apparently suits not only the works themselves but Geminiani’s reputation as an expressive performer (among some: Tartini called him il furibondo , while John Hawkins thought he lacked the fire of the later violinists of his era). The sonata’s second movement isn’t fugal; it depends for its effect on the piquancy of its homophonic lines, of which Mosca gives a tangy account. The continuo provides an ingratiating strumming accompaniment in the Largo, a backdrop against which Mosca makes at times startling adjustments to the solo’s dynamic level; the finale includes surprises after dramatic pauses, and Mosca times them with the acute sensibility of a persuasive rhetorician. In general, she produces a twangy though by no means sharp-edged tone from her violin (and a perhaps surprisingly full one from its lower registers), described as a Venetian instrument from about 1750.
Mosca and the ensemble bring vivacious wit to the second movement of the Seventh Sonata and its jaunty subject (do these suggest the stolidity for which Geminiani has sometimes been condemned?) and spice to the ornamentation of the sonata’s third movement, Moderato. The Adagio of the Third Sonata showcases, as well as the encrustations of ornamentation mentioned earlier, the sudden gestures that make the sonatas sound inventive, at least from an expressive point of view (that sense of invention, continues, reaching almost to the level of improvisation, in the ensuing Allegro). The Sixth Sonata, again in D Major, at first seems almost somber compared to the three that precede it on the program, until Mosca dispels whatever gloom might have enshrouded it with her bright gaiety in the second movement; similarly, she shifts from the almost romantic sensibility of the sonata’s Andante to crisp Gallic sprightliness (Geminiani spent time in Paris) in the final movement, recalling a similar vein in the works of Jean-Marie Leclair (also a musical descendent of Corelli, this time through Giovanni Battista Somis). The two three-movement sonatas omit the slow movement; what they lose in affetuoso they gain in starchiness (although the last Allegro of the 10th Sonata includes a slow episode that almost replaces the missing movement). A multisectional fantasy serves as the first movement of the 12th Sonata’s three.
Lotter deploys a more astringent tone in his recording but he hardly stints on ornamental or expressive detail. Still, Mosca’s unaffected geniality, dramatic Luftpausen , and rhetorical sensibility breathe extra life into her performances.
With its clean recorded sound, its imaginative performances, and its ingratiating literature, Mosca’s selection of Geminiani’s sonatas might serve either as a favorable introduction to the works of the composer for those who aren’t familiar with him or an enjoyable reminder for those who know him that he brought more than Corelli’s teachings to London. Strongly recommended to all types of listeners.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
Vivaldi: Catone In Utica / Malgoire, Laszezkowski, Et Al

This is not the first time this 1735 opera has been recorded. Erato (remember them?) released a 1986 performance under Claudio Scimone that was quite good but in the long run can't compare dramatically with this live performance from France in November, 2001. In the notes accompanying the earlier release, we learn that only the second and third acts survive and that the first was written by one or more other composers--a sort of patchwork. Scimone, therefore, only presents the acts he believes are by Vivaldi, as evidenced by the autograph score in Turin. Jean-Claude Malgoire claims to have located two of the missing Act 1 arias, takes the music of some others from various Vivaldi operas (and re-sets the words of the Catone libretto, which has been found in Bologna, to that music), and has composed the recitatives "drawing his inspiration from existing Vivaldi compositions." Scholarship aside, the result gives us lots of terrific music, scored for strings and continuo, but with the occasional addition of two trumpets and two horns (in the extant Vivaldi), and oboes and recorders in the Act 1 reconstruction.
If the truth be known, the plot stands very well with just the last two acts; the libretto of the first is exposition. The opera concerns the Republican Cato's (tenor) refusal to give in to Caesar (male soprano), who has killed Pompey and taken over Rome. Pompey's widow Emilia (soprano) actually is the piece's villain--her hatred for Caesar keeps everyone's feelings toward him inflamed and she tries to manipulate his death. Cato's daughter Marzia (soprano) loves Caesar, but he (Cato) wants her to marry Arbace, his ally. This is a real problem. And Caesar's ally, Fulvio, loves Emilia, although he may just be covering his bets--a confusing bonus. Metastasio, the librettist, wanted Cato to die onstage in his daughter's arms but opted for him to die off stage and have Marzia report it. Even that was too strong for 18th century Verona, so he recast it with a happy ending: after Cato's army is defeated Caesar spares Cato in order to gain Marzia's love, Emilia leaves in disgrace after swearing revenge, Arbace is unhappy but realizes that the outcome is good for the country, and peace returns. The final chorus is suitably unconvincing, and I bet Vivaldi knew it. He scored the soprano Caesar's vocal line so low that there's no real enthusiasm; the music is like an editorial commentary.
Up to then, however, the characters' feelings are ablaze and realistic, with impressive arias and huge drama in the recitatives. Malgoire is particularly good in the dramatic, realistic pacing of the recitatives, but the arias also are well accompanied, and if Malgoire is responsible for the embellishments in the da capo sections of arias, then he is to be further congratulated. His period-instrument band plays beautifully, with the trumpets braying nobly, the strings smooth or cutting as the text requires, and the ensemble work first class.
The singing doesn't let us down either: Simon Edwards' Cato is an aristocratic ruler, but he's capable of great fury against poor Marzia, with whom he becomes enraged for her love of Caesar in both Acts 1 and 2. He handles the role's coloratura well. Marzia is a sappy ingénue with pretty, lachrymose arias, though at least the one in the last act is energetic (and her interjections of "O Dio! Pieta!" in Cato's last Rage Aria are enchanting in their sincerity).
Emilia has two furious arias and wicked recitatives, and Veronica Cangemi, in this all-over-the-place-vocally-and-dramatically role, makes you sit up and listen to her scorn. She's spectacular. Sympathetic Caesar, sung by male soprano Jacek Laszczkowski, is expressive and has the difficult music--trills, leaps, pianissimos, high B-flats--fully in hand. Male alto Philippe Jaroussky is good in the nowhere role of Arbace, and the same can be said about Diana Bertini as Fulvio, an even weaker character. If you love Baroque opera, or may want to, this is top-of-the-line. And whether or not Malgoire is right about his reconstruction of Act 1, it's nice to have another 50-something minutes of well-performed Vivaldi to savor.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
Virtuosissimo
Vivaldi: Giustino / Velardi, Alessandro Stradella Consort
The artistic heritage of Antonio Vivaldi, acknowledged for his talent as far as the mastery of instrumental music is concerned, has waited for years for a correct evaluation in the opera music field as well. On the other hand, a musician who in 1739, at 61 years of age, was able to boast of having composed no less than 94 operas had a legitimate right to describe himself first and foremost an opera composer. Nowadays, unfortunately, only 23 of his opera scores have been preserved and not all are complete; as the scholar Reinhard Strohm writes, “We’re only able to document approximately 60 operatic performances between 1713 and 1739, in which the composer was personally involved in various ways. For these performances, he may have chosen the complete score, revised music by other composers, chosen and instructed the singers, rehearsed and conducted the performance, influenced revisions of his music by others, or worked in any combination of these possibilities. If we give a wide meaning to the word, Vivaldi was just as much an opera ‘impresario’ as an opera composer. This wasn’t at all common in Italy at that time and even less so for a priest. The least we can deduce from this situation was Vivaldi’s profound artistic passion for musical theatre.” Composed in 1724 for Rome’s Capranica Theatre, Giustino is a cornerstone work, situated on the ridge between the Red Priest’s old and new styles; precise indication of this importance is given by the fact that the customary borrowing from oneself, current usage in that period, is considerably reduced by Vivaldi for this work. Rather than to save time, since the inclusion of pre-existent episodes in the libretto and the score nevertheless involved laborious revision, this careful selection of the borrowing was used by Vivaldi to gather together a good part of his best previous music to impress the public: Giustino, as Strohm again states, is a sort of “Vivaldi anthology.” In fact, the borrowed pieces are often to be ranked among the best he’d ever written.
Vivaldi: Dixit Dominus, Gloria, Etc / Mallon, Aradia, Et Al
This is the first of a new series devoted to the sacred works of Vivaldi...the engineering is clean, fresh, and open, capturing the acoustic of Grace Church on the Hill, Toronto, to pleasing effect. Mallon’s chorus immediately makes a strong impression, with vital, strongly committed and projected singing that is obviously going to provide his cycle with one of its major strengths. Much the same might be said of the soloists he fields here...his wonderful alto Nathalie Stutzmann bringing to these solos richly dignified and authoritative singing...there are many fine moments in the Irish conductor’s performance, the choruses again distinguished by vibrant, incisive singing, and soprano Jane Archibald contributing an appealing “Domine Deus, agnus Dei.” Archibald is also impressively fearless in the high-flying tessitura of the motet Nulla in mundo, singing the beguilingly blissful opening aria, taken dangerously slowly, with winning freshness, finding real dramatic significance in the central recitative and negotiating the coloratura of the demanding final aria and Alleluia with a radiant, confident security. This is, then, an auspicious beginning. Anyone attracted by Naxos’s low prices to the idea of collecting the new series can certainly go ahead in the knowledge that they are likely to be in possession of a real bargain. - Brian Robins, FANFARE
Christmas Meditation
Adam:
O Holy Night
Albinoni:
Adagio for Strings and Organ in G minor
Bach:
Air on the G string
Bruch:
Jubilate, Amen Op. 3
Bruckner:
Ave Maria
Corelli:
Concerto grosso Op. 6 No. 8 in G minor 'fatto per la notte di Natale'
Gabrieli, G:
Sacrae Symphoniae No. 2
Gounod:
Ave Maria
Grüber, F:
Stille Nacht
Handel:
Messiah: Pastoral Symphony 'Pifa'
Manfredini:
Concerto grosso in C major, Op. 3 No. 12 'per il Santissimo Natale'
Molter:
Concerto pastorale in G major
Mozart:
Laudate Dominum from Vesperae Solennes de Confessore, K339
Praetorius, M:
Kindelein zart von guter Art
Reger:
Mariä Wiegenlied, Op. 76 No. 52
Traditional:
Süsser die Glocken
O Jesulein Zart
Vivaldi:
The Four Seasons: Winter, RV297
Scarlatti: Il trionfo dell'onore / Rovero, Giulini, RAI National Symphony
According to Alessandro Scarlatti's own work catalogue, he wrote 117 dramme per musica. Even if some of them may have been only improvements or modifications, the number remains impressive. Il Trionfo Dell'Onore represents several of Scarlatti's works in a masterful program on this release.
Vivaldi: The Paris Concertos / Sardelli, Modo Antiquo
The German patrician von Uffenbach, during a visit to Venice for the carnival of 1715, at long last managed to meet with Vivaldi and order from him “10 concerti grossi”. Three days later, the composer reappeared with all of the requested music, assuring his patron that it had been expressly composed for him. Vivaldi was unquestionably a very quick composer, but he was also a barefaced and extremely capable promoter of his own talents. The collection of twelve concertos for strings, now preserved in Paris, also has all the earmarks of having been a rapidly and cleverly assembled series of previously composed works, with very little new music added. This same modus operandi would mark the genesis of op. 10 and many other collections by Vivaldi. But Vivaldi is an excellent composer, and like a great actor, he succeeds in taking on the appearance of a character by merely donning a hat or imitating a gesture. Thus he manages to outline with a few brushstrokes all of the force of a French entree in the opening of Concerto n. 5, or to fall suddenly into the most moving melancholy when his unusual Ciaccona modulates into the minor key. Even the last movement of Concerto n. 2, despite appearances, is a rare example of a menuet en rondeau camouflaged as an Italian allegro. The beginning of Concerto n. 1, although belonging to the older works, must have been chosen by Vivaldi to open the collection because it resembles a chaconne in binary meter. These, then, are the distinctive elements, obvious and yet quite effective, which render the idea of a well recognizable taste or style—the same style which informed the “Domine Fili” from the Gloria RV 589, the aria “Tornar voglio” from Arsilda, and the final chorus of Il Giustino. Federico Maria Sardelli conducts the famous baroque ensemble Modo Antiquo, in this amazing historical recording.