Over the course of his long and eventful career, Dussek composed 38 violin sonatas – or rather sonatas for the keyboard, accompanied by the violin – and the partnership of Julia Huber and Miriam Altmann is acquiring impressive credentials and critical praise as they gradually uncover them for the first time.

‘This is one excellent disc,’ noted the Fanfare reviewer of Volume 1 (96385). ‘Julia Huber and fortepianist Miriam Altmann give wonderful renditions. Each plays off of each other, with clarity, technical acumen, and a good sense of phrasing… You ought to have this as an integral part of any collection of chamber music of the period.’

Volume 2 (96588) was received with equal enthusiasm: ‘This is an outstanding continuation of the series… done with style and verve by Julia Huber and Mariam Altmann… Well worth getting.’ Volume 3 presents a contrast of sonatas from the beginning and near the end of Dussek’s life. Even the early Op. 4, No. 3 Sonata, however, shares the qualities of the mature Dussek noted by one contemporary reviewer: ‘Dussek's strength in composition lies in the idiosyncrasy, the novelty, the striking, brilliant quality of his rich invention, and, as far as the development is concerned, in the fire and the intimacy which his works seldom lack.’

Fire and intimacy: what else would we expect from a wide-ranging opening movement subtitled ‘L’amante disperato’ (The forlorn lover), with playing indications such as Amoroso and Lamentabile and dynamic indications from triple piano to triple forte?The sonata’s argument is concentrated in the piano part, with the violin marked as ‘ad libitum’, whereas the two Sonatas Op.69 show more of a partnership, albeit still led from the keyboard in the manner of works in the same genre bv Mozart and (until the ‘Kreutzer’) Beethoven.

Both Op. 69 Sonatas take the listener on a gripping narrative through typically bravura piano writing and unexpected turns of incident. No.2 is unusually structured in two expansive halves, while the quick outer movements of No.1 are separated by a songful Adagio subtitled ‘Les soupirs’ (The Sighs’) no doubt for the appreciation of Dussek’s French audience.

Works attributable with certainty to Nicolò Corradini (1585–1646) – likely from Cremona as opposed to Bergamo or Rome as erroneously suggested in the past – are limited to a few printed editions, among them the Primo libro de Canzoni francesi a 4 e alcune suonate (a copy of which has come down to us, printed by Gardano in Venice in 1624). It includes ten French canzonas and four sonatas, works most likely conceived to be performed by several instrumentalists, including one or more possible continuists (because of the speed of some passages and the separation between different parts of often more than an octave).
The canzonas are divided into several sections with structures ranging from simple A-B-A to more complex schemes (A-B-C-A-B-D in the Eighth Canzon); these short musical frameworks offer within them a great variety of themes, imitation between parts and repetitions of sections, ensuring cohesiveness of form. The sonatas on the other hand – with the exception of the Suonata a tre (a simple A-B-C-D-A) – are presented in a more madrigalistic vein. The narrative pathway on which they are based passes through multiple melodic cues so completely different from one another as to suggest a rhetorical structure arching from an exordium to a final peroration. This leads to a proliferation of sections – A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I in the case of the Suonata a due cornetti in risposta. (The specification for two cornets “in call and response” contained in the title of this sonata corresponds to the numerous segments of this piece in which the same melody is first proposed by one performer and then repeated by the other.)

Antonín Reicha and Sigismund Neukomm were contemporaries. Their time in Vienna, where both were students of Joseph Haydn, crossed from 1802–04, and from 1810 until the end of their lives both had their permanent residence in Paris. It is therefore easy to imagine that their paths crossed several times. In common was their striving to preserve the style of Viennese Classicism, fully expressed in the works presented here.

Antonín Reicha’s (1770–1836) Quintet for Clarinet and String Quartet Op. 89 is typical of his balanced, classical style. Overall, the work reflects Reicha's affinity with opera. The harmonic turns are subordinated to the clarity of the vocal melody and the specifications of the form; everything has its place and its good order. Yet, in spite of this seemingly rigid formula there are surprising moments, for example the long syncopated melodic line at the beginning of the development in the first movement. The clarinet responds to the brash overture-like beginning of the opening theme with lyrically contrasting vocal garlands, whose motives are immediately imitated by the strings; an artfully counterpointing exchange between the instruments unfolds. What at first glance looks like the schematic application of well-learned compositional skill turns out on closer inspection (and repeated listening) to be a successful musical testimony to its time with many hidden and sophisticated ideas.

In Sigismund Neukomm’s (1778–1858) Clarinet Quintet Op. 8, published in 1809, one can hear his desire to manifest admiration for his ‘three-leaf clover’ of influences: Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. In its entirety, Neukomm's Clarinet Quintet radiates more noble elegance than original innovation, and one can well imagine that this expression corresponded perfectly to the composer’s own attitude to life.

From 1763 until his death in 1806, Johann Michael Haydn worked in the service of the Archbishop of Salzburg – almost as long a period of service as that of his brother Joseph to the princely family in Esterhazy. During the course of those 43 years, he bridged the stylistic gap between early Classicism and the Biedermeier style. Indeed, he was initially regarded by contemporaries as equal in talent to Joseph. Only the older brother’s steep rise to become the most important instrumental composer of his day somewhat overshadowed Johann Michael Haydn. In recent years his music has been rediscovered, and he has increasingly been recognized again.

His output includes more than thirty works in Latin or German for two or three lines of upper voices, composed for his ‘dear choirboys’ singing at the cathedral in Salzburg. The first setting of the ordinary in this series was the Missa Sancti Aloysii, composed in 1777. It was initially intended for the Commemoration of the Holy Innocents on 28 December, when the chapel boys celebrated their principal feast day. This exceptionally charming mass is marked throughout by a wonderfully effervescent sense of joy. At the other end of his career, the Missa sub titulo Sti. Leopoldi pro festo Innocentium was Michael Haydn’s last completed work, finished on 22 December 1805 in time to celebrate the same feast day as the earlier Mass, despite the composer’s ill health, and drawing strength (according to the composer) from the optimistic character of his pupils. Complementing these two Mass settings, the Accademia Vocale di Genova and Roberta Paraninfo present a complete recording of the Vespers which Haydn wrote for the Feast of the Holy Innocents in 1787.

Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach was widely known for his passionate, incomparable improvisations on the clavichord, most characteristically in the form of free fantasia. His compositions were unique in style, full of contrasts, and universally admired by several generations; the Vienna Classicists, even Beethoven and Schubert, considered him their musical father. Declamatory, improvisatory style is of course the epitaph of all 18th-century music – exemplified in Johann Sebastian Bach's Chromatic Fantasia BWV903, with its central recitative and broken chords audaciously passing through distant harmonies. Johann Nikolaus Forkel, author of the first Bach biography and part of C.P.E. Bach’s literary circles, transmitted a refined version in his manuscript (P 212) and subsequent edition that may derive from a revised original version once in possession of the Bach sons. C.P.E. Bach’s Fantasia in C minor (published in 1753) bears distinct similarities to his father’s Fantasia chromatica, and it has been suggested that it may in fact have been a tombeau to the elder Bach. The deep personal nature and connection between the two works is explicit. For Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and the ‘Bachists’, the most expressive and intimate compositions were reserved for the clavichord. It was in the clavichord that one might ‘find the soundboard of your heart. … Have no regrets when alone under the moonlight you improvise, or refresh your soul on a summer night, or when you celebrate a spring evening; ah! then pine not for the strident harpsichord. See, your clavichord breathes as gently as your heart.’ (Ch.F.D. Schubart: Musikalische Rhapsodien III, 1786) Charles Burney, who visited C.P.E. Bach in Hamburg in 1772, described the composer improvising at his legendary clavichord, built by Gottfried Silbermann: ‘He grew so animated and possessed that he not only played but looked like one inspired. His eyes were fixed, his lower lip fell, and drops of effervescence distilled from his countenance.’ The original 18th-century instruments heard on this recording – from Regensburg, Stockholm and Vienna – demonstrate possibilities the like of which would have been known to Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach in Berlin and Hamburg and ultimately derive from the Saxon school of G. Silbermann.

Johann Schneider was a German organist, violinist and composer (1702, Lautertal–1788, Leipzig). He was a pupil of Nicolas Mueller in his hometown and continued his studies with Johann Hartmann Reinmann in Saalfeld between 1717 and 1720. Around 1720, he became Johann Sebastian Bach's organ and harpsichord pupil in Köthen. In conjunction with his keyboard work with Bach, he studied violin with Johann Gottlieb Graun in Merseburg and with Johann Graf in Rudolstadt. In 1721, Johann Schneider became court organist and first violinist (concertmaster) in Saalfeld in his native Coburg. From 1726 he was employed as violinist in the court chapel in Weimar (Weimarer Hofkapelle), and he was later appointed organist of the Nicolaikirche in Leipzig in 1729, holding this position for the rest of his career. Schneider achieved a commendable reputation as a truly great organist, as Lorenz Mizler quotes: 'His organ preludes are of such good taste in this field, with the exception of Mr. Bach, whose pupil he was, that one cannot hear better in Leipzig'. A small number of his works are contained in the manuscript Mus. Ms. 30377, preserved in the Berlin State Library. His style shows a correlation with that of J.S. Bach, but the influence of the Galant style is also detected in various moments of his music. Johann Philipp Kirnberger was born in Saalfeld in 1721 and died in Berlin in 1783. He received his first training in harpsichord and violin within his family and then continued his studies with the organist Johann Peter Kellner in Gräfenroda. In 1738, he was an organ pupil under Heinrich Nikolaus Gerber in Sondershausen, then pursued further studies with Johann Sebastian Bach in Leipzig between 1739 and 1741, which proved pivotal to his development. More than a composer, he is remembered as a 'witness' to Bach's work: he took charge of copying much of his master's music. He kept the manuscript of the Brandenburg Concertos and collected several chorales known today as the 'Kirnberger Chorales' in which we find BWV numbers 690 to 731a – sincerely feeling himself vested with the mission of divulging Johann Sebastian Bach's greatness. His personality was that of a didact, and his compositions are predominantly the consequence of his treatises (L'arte di comporre bene, 1774/79). This attitude is exemplified in the Clavierübung compiled between 1762 and 1766 containing pieces structured in order of increasing difficulty and carefully fingered according to the precepts of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach. He wrote only a handful of pages for organ: a few sporadic preludes to chorales, the eight fugues for organ or harpsichord (featured on this CD) and a 'Clavierfuge mit dem Contrapunct in der Oktava'. His figure is thus summed up not so much in an innovative spirit as in that of a person careful to pass on the inheritance he received.

A world-premiere recording of elegant, courtly French harpsichord suites by a forgotten name of the early 18th century. The early life and formation of Charles-Alexandre Jollage is shrouded in obscurity. By the time he enters the historical record in the 1720s, he had become organist for the King of Poland, Stanislas Leszcznski, at that time exiled to France and settled at the castle of Chambord in the Loire region of France. In 1733 Stanislas left Chambord for Warsaw where he claimed the throne of Poland; meanwhile Jollage seems to have settled in Paris, where his only known set of work was published in 1738, and dedicated to the Marquise of Clermont d’Amboise. After that point, it has been established with greater certainty that he remained in Paris as an organist, and died there in 1761. This ‘First Book’ of Jollage’s harpsichord works was never followed by a second, but the two suites therein have rewarded the investigation of Fernando De Luca, who has already revived the little-known harpsichord music of Christoph Graupner (96131) and Christophe Moyreau (96285) for Brilliant Classics. Jollage’s refined and elegant idiom reflects the predominant taste in France during the first half of the 18th century, enlivened throughout with touches of originality. Take, for example, the penultimate piece of the First Suite: L’italienne, which is written in an entirely contemporary style perhaps emulating Domenico Scarlatti and even resembling the sonatas of Haydn. In his booklet essay, Fernando De Luca makes a pertinent comparison between Jollage and the contemporary master Watteau. ‘By combining dance, music and painting, while suspending time and movement, Watteau captures a snapshot of human life… He combines lightness and tragedy to capture a fleeting moment. Jollage draws his creative lifeblood from the same source, while retaining all the characteristics of harpsichord music of his period.’ ‘A monumental enterprise… Listeners will want to dip in and out, perhaps taking one partita at a time, admiring both Graupner’s and De Luca’s facility and being rewarded with some attractive music confidently delivered.’ Early Music Review February 2022 (Graupner)

Songs of love and loss by a trio of early 18th century Spanish composers, showcasing the vocal art of a distinguished early-music soprano. Cristina Bayón Álvarez has sung with early-music luminaries such as Christophe Coin, Diego Fasolis and Carlos Mena. She has also recorded a pair of warmly received albums for Brilliant Classics, reviving the sacred music of Juan Francés de Iribarren (95859) and Romantic-era songs by female composers (‘Boulevard des femmes’, 96729). For her latest album, Cristina Bayón Álvarez turns to 18th-century Spain, presenting for the first time on record a sequence of newly edited secular cantatas. These are all brief pieces, taking amorous and pastoral themes for their subjects, alternating recitative and aria, conveying the pain of a lover separated from the object of their affections, or rejected by them. One piece stands out for its relative modernity of sentiment: La picarilla más bella by José de Torres y Martínez Bravo (ca. 1670-1738), highlighting the contempt for love on the part of a woman who prefers freedom of spirit to the suffering caused by sentimental passion. The least unfamiliar of the three composers featured on the album is Emanuele Rincón d’Astorga (1680-1775), best known for a Stabat mater of plangent expressive quality. The affecting, Italianate vocal lines of this sacred work also colour the three cantatas recorded here: Filis, que abrigas, Respirad, mas sea quedito and Sean, Filis, de mi llanto. Astorga made his name outside Spain, though eventually settled and died in Madrid; Juan de Serquiera (ca. 1655-ca. 1726) was likely also active in the Spanish capital, though of Portuguese origin. Almost nothing survives of his life and work, which makes the survival of Oh, corazón amante all the more precious, especially since it demonstrates Serquiera’s skill at affective word setting. José de Torres y Martínez Bravo is recorded as master of music at the Royal Chapel in Madrid from 1697 until his death in 1707. Not least thanks to this distinction, much more is known of his activity, including a keyboard-instruction manual and a set of Masses dedicated to Philip V of Spain. As recorded here, La picarilla más bella and Por el Tenaro monte share the expressive flair and rhythmic energy of his vernacular villancicos. Taken together, the works here make an exciting addition to the catalogue of Spanish Baroque vocal repertoire, especially in such accomplished and stylish performances.

Max Reger (1873–1916) is noted for his devotion to Johann Sebastian Bach. His 3 Suites for Viola Solo Op. 131d – completed a year before his death – belong to a collection of works with an ancient feel in the style of Bach, which also comprises music for solo violin, for two violins and for cello. The three solo viola suites all emphasize the polyphonic nature of an instrument that to this day is still considered monodic.

Henri Vieuxtemps (1820–1881) was a key exponent of the Franco-Belgian school of advanced virtuoso violin technique and a contributor to the founding of the Russian school. His Capriccio per viola sola, Op. 55 begins with the instruction Lento, con molta espressione, a character that pervades the entire work. It is packed with rapid virtuosic passages that are challenging both for the left hand and the bow, maintaining a constant dialogue across a range of timbres.

In the 1970s, following years of avant-garde experimentation, the Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki (1933–2020) returned to a more ‘classic’ style, with conventional notation and melodies or small melodic intervals at the heart of his works. This is true of his Cadenza for Solo Viola, written in 1984. It is considered a piece in its own right, despite close links with the Viola Concerto written a year earlier.

Benjamin Britten (1913–1976) composed his Elegy for solo viola in 1930. Discovered only after his death, it can be seen as a youthful musical reflection and commentary on his miserable boarding school experience.

The Élégie for solo viola by Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971), composed in 1944, arguably has the structure of a two-part invention, divided up into exposition, fugue and recapitulation, and the various stages highlight the instrument’s polyphony with echoes of Bach.

This CD presents Violin Concertos from Vivaldi’s La Stravaganza Op. 4, transcribed for organ. These are contained in the collection known as Anne Dawson's Book and kept at the Henry Watson Music Library in Manchester (UK). The collection, compiled around 1720, contains, in addition to arias for voice and basso continuo, a number of compositions for keyboard instrument along with several transcriptions of concertos by various composers, including 10 by Vivaldi. They are closely related to the original score and show an evident process of adaptation to the possibilities and idiom of the keyboard instrument.

Organist Luca Scandali is one of Italy’s foremost scholars and keyboard players. For Brilliant Classics he recorded the complete organ works by C.P.E. Bach (nominated for the Preis der deutschen Schallplattenkritik), Galuppi, Pasquini, Pellegrini and Padovano. He plays the Gaetano Callido organ from 1774 at the Church of San Venanzo, Albacina, Italy.

Elegant Baroque sonatas for violin and basso continuo by a pair of little-known brothers, Pietro and Prospero, who belonged to Handel’s circle of talents in 18th-century London. Pietro (1679-1752) and Prospero (1690-1760) Castrucci belong to the generation of virtuosos who connected the development of violin playing from Corelli to Tartini, and took the Italian style abroad, combining it with the latest musical fashions of the time. Born in Rome, they studied with Corelli, but moved to London in 1715, which had become a European capital for music primarily thanks to the patronage of the English aristocracy and the celebrity figure of Handel. The Castrucci brothers played in Handel’s orchestra at the Royal Academy for the next 20 years, and Handel wrote obbligato parts for them in his operas. Prospero published only one collection, of six sonatas, in 1739; he seems to have been the more conservative of the two brothers, writing in a style reminiscent of his teacher Corelli, albeit decorated with bold flourishes characteristic of Veracini and Locatelli. The more innovative of the two was Pietro, who became more famous, wrote more prolifically and was published well beyond London. His violin writing is a crucible of invention, featuring bold strokes such as multi-tempo movements, arpeggiated chords on three strings, unisons with basso continuo, inverted mordents, and the kind of ‘arco battuto’ writing that Beethoven would later emulate. A pupil of Giuliano Carmignola, Marco Pedrona founded Ensemble Guidantus in 1995, specialising in music of the Italian Baroque. With them he has performed across Italy and further afield, giving highly praised performances of the canonic repertoire from Corelli to Pergolesi but also reviving many figures such as the Castrucci brothers.

Sinuously beautiful solo motets by a little-known contemporary of Cavalli, imaginatively programmed with instrumental interludes by their Italian contemporaries.

It has been said before now that Cazzati's instrumental music was more inspired than his sacred-vocal work, but this album demonstrates otherwise with a sequence of motets which evolves from the more liberal style of the 1640s to the more severe style of the late 17th century. He was among the pioneers of the instrumentally accompanied motet in which violin lines are skillfully woven around the sung text. On the other hand, the two solo motets show a stark contrast, with the intimate Salvum me fac against the virtuoso war-like Qui bella geritis.

Three organ sonatas are also included, two of which were written by Cazzati’s own organists in Bologna: Giovanni Paolo Colonn, and Cazzati’s great enemy Giulio Cesare Arresti. A sonata by Bernardo Pasquini affords further contrast with the mostly grave devotions of the motets. All four performers here have extensive experience in the revival of little-known composers from the Baroque, and their stylish performances demand a reappraisal of Cazzati in the round.

Rebecca Taio’s choice to program these well-known pieces from the great repertoire for violin and piano has to do with the technical challenges they pose, both instrumentally and interpretatively.

While the transcription of the Five Pieces by Respighi is a first (no one having thought to arrange them for flute and piano before), the sonatas by Faureì and Franck are already a part of the chamber tradition for flute and piano. Nonetheless, the artists have made further revisions to these two works, coming up with alternative solutions to the ones normally used in such a way as to be as close as possible to the originals. Franck’s Sonata in A major for violin and piano (1886) creates the ideal end-piece for this musical journey.

Charming salon miniatures and a grand funeral march by the verismo composer of La Gioconda.

Most of the pieces issued here were published in the 1870s and 1880s, and some of them are far more substantial than mere album-leaves. Yet they are hardly known at all; Riccardo Muti recorded an orchestration of the sombre and touching Elegia funebre from 1881, but Ester Fusar Poli’s new recording is the only available version of the piano original. Even more imposing in scale is the 16-minute Funeral March which Ponchielli wrote late in 1872 to honor the passing of the publisher Francesco Lucca. However, no Ponchielli album would be complete without a version of the ‘Dance of the Hours’ immortalized by Walt Disney’s hippos in Fantasia.

Ester Fusar Poli presents a beguiling sequence of elegies, nocturnes, polkas and tone-poems, demonstrating the composer’s expressive range and deft piano writing. An extensive essay by Gabriele Galleggiante Crisafulli considers Ponchielli’s piano output in the context of his career as a whole, making this album an important contribution to our understanding of a figure who was much more than a ‘one-hit wonder’.

The guitar became increasingly important to Castelnuovo-Tedesco through the course of his long career. ‘My art tends progressively to simplify itself,’ he wrote, ‘and the guitar has become one of my favorite means of expression because it has led me towards the essential.’ He was first drawn to the instrument after meeting Andres Segovia in Venice in 1932. The Variations á travers les siècles Op.71 followed almost immediately.

Over the course of the next seven years, Castelnuovo-Tedesco produced a string of equally successful pieces for the instrument. Most substantial is the four movement Guitar Sonata subtitled as a ‘Homage to Boccherini’: an elegant essay in neoclassicism which evokes the courtly elegance of Boccherini’s Guitar Quintets while sounding entirely true to Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s own language. There followed a Capriccio Diabolico, which lives up to its title as a homage to Paganini with fiendish figuration which delighted Segovia. Sharing the Capriccio’s Opus number of 87 is a contrastingly restrained character-study of Sicilian flavor, ‘Oranges in Bloom’.

The last guitar piece written by Castelnuovo-Tedesco before leaving Europe for good was the Variations plaisantes sur un petit air populaire Op.95, which takes its theme from a French folk melody after a Swiss critic had taken aim at the Sonata as merely a display piece for Segovia. Castelnuovo-Tedesco proved him wrong with another demonstration of his deep feeling for the guitar as an instrument of both display and reflection, ending with an elaborate fugue. This album is the latest in a series of new recordings documenting the output of Castenuovo-Tedesco. Rather than playing from the standard editions of these pieces by Segovia, Antonio Rugolo has gone back to the composer’s manuscripts as well as consulting newer editions by Angelo Gilardino, resulting in performances which are truer to the composer’s vision than ever before.

Albéric Magnard, born in Paris in 1865, was a pupil of Dubois, Guiraud, Massenet and D’Indy at the Paris Conservatoire, and he frequented the circle of César Franck. In 1896, he became a teacher at Paris’s Schola Cantorum. Then, from 1904, he settled in the countryside on his estate at Manoir des Fontaines in Baron (Oise), where he died in 1914, shot by German troops while attempting to defend the property, which was set on fire along with many of his as yet unpublished compositions. In addition to four symphonies, he is also the author of operas, but chamber music is the genre in which he best expressed himself and into which he poured the influence of Beethoven and the counterpoint of the Schola Cantorum. His last chamber work, the Sonata for Cello and Piano Op. 20 is among his most significant compositions. Composed between 1908 and 1910, it is structured in four movements like all his chamber works, betraying his devotion to German contemporaries and in opposition to the French tendency for three movements in symphonies and instrumental compositions.

Completed in 1905, the Piano Trio Op. 18 was first performed at the Salle Aéolian in Paris in January 1906. Also in four movements, it presents more measured writing than the Cello Sonata or Violin Sonata. The dialogue between the three instruments is refined and balanced without any break in interaction.

These are works by a brilliant composer faithful to tradition. On the whole the music can be described as an innovative and surprising, certainly deserving of wider recognition.

Ferdinand Rebay (1880–1953) was active at one of the most fascinating periods of European music and taught by one of the most respected musicians of the time – Robert Fuchs, at the Vienna Conservatoire. Fuchs was both a composer and a pedagogue, and among his esteemed pupils were Mahler, Wolf, Sibelius, Zemlinsky and Schreker. Fuchs considered Rebay to be one of his best pupils, although the young composer found it impossible to flourish within the environment of the Second Viennese School and continued to work within the late Romantic idiom. Rebay turned to the guitar due to the influence of his friend Jacobus Ortner, Professor of Guitar at the conservatoire. Aware that the neglect of guitar repertoire for over half a century had led to a decline in the quality of writing for the instrument, Rebay set out to write complex, serious music that continued in the tradition of Giuliani and Sor.

This new recording contains the complete music for viola and guitar: The Sonata in D minor, Kleine moderne Tanz-Suite, Three Russian Folk Songs and the Lyrische Suite, beautifully played by the Duo Impérial: Joël Impérial (viola) and Gilbert Impérial (guitar).

As a pupil of Mozart and contemporary of Beethoven, Hummel was esteemed for the elegance of both his playing and his music. The opus numbers of these appealing quintets are misleading. The Op. 87 belongs to his early period, much more Classical and Mozartian in manner than the powerful Op. 74 which opens with a powerful D minor statement and continues in turbulent fashion as a work belonging to 1815, by which time the composer had achieved both fame and security.

A quartet of Dutch string players, experienced in the early-music scene, forms the core of the Nepomuk quintet, named after the composer on this album; they are joined by the pianist Riko Fukuda, who contributes an authoritative essay on Hummel and his piano quintets to the booklet.

REVIEW:

This is a very valuable release… The manner in which all five musicians construct musical phrases throughout is quite impressive. And their sound blends superbly … The refinement with which these musicians rediscover this relatively unknown music is simply astonishing … The sound of this recording is quite impressive too; the level of detail is amazing, and the spatial depth is compelling.

-- Fanfare

On this unique and originally programmed journey, the violist Massimo Piva takes the kind of fantasy journey (Fantasiereise) that forms one of the cornerstones of German Romanticism. It is in the context of highly wrought, fantastic tales that Schumann’s style is formed from a literary point of view: Hoffmann's short stories and Jean Paul's novels, inhabited by bizarre characters and surreal situations, are his polar stars. On the musical side, he had an 18th-century heritage of fantasies by composers such as Mozart or C.P.E. Bach to draw upon, in which the notion of the fantasy is still linked to the Baroque idea of improvisation.
This is the background to the Marchenbilder Op.113, which Schumann worked on feverishly in March 1851. As a masterpiece in his late style, the collection shivers with obsession and fevered dreams. Placing them side by side illuminates the degree to which Reinecke was inspired by Schumann’s example in his own Fantasiestucke Op.43. But this recital moves on into less familiar territory, where the viola’s personality as a melancholy guide takes us to repertoire by Vieuxtemps (an F minor Elegy), Wieniawski (Rêverie in F sharp minor) and Sibelius (Rondo in D minor) by composers much better known for their prowess as violinists, and as violinst-composers.
The recital reaches a natural chronological end with the pre-eminent poet of the viola in the early decades of the 20th century, Frank Bridge. No violist he, but inspired by the artistry of Lionel Tertis, Bridge came to write a good deal for the instrument such as the Two Pieces featured here, and found its mellow, soulful voice a natural fit for his own as a composer. As a former member of the Lucerne Festival Orchestra and Orchestra Mozart, Massimo Piva worked extensively with the conductor Claudio Abbado. As a member of the Quartetto Prometeo he has performed both modern and classic repertoire across Europe, working with composers including Sciarrino and Fedele, and recorded the complete works for string quartet by Hugo Wolf on Brilliant Classics (94166).

Vivaldi’s Sonatas for two violins, anco senza basso se piace (also without bass if preferred), represent one of the innumerable peaks of his compositional prowess. They are structured in three movements, each of which develops in a bipartite manner, making evident reference to concerto form, with only the internal bipartite structure alluding to sonata form. This distinguishes Vivaldi’s approach to the duo without bass from that of some of his European colleagues, namely Telemann (Sonates sans basse, 1727) and Leclair (Sonates à deux violons sans basse Op.3, 1730).
The palette of colours and expressive effects used by Vivaldi in these sonatas is truly impressive: arpeggios, double stops, high-register passages, extremely complex articulations requiring exceptional bow technique, ornate cantabile lines (to be further ornamented by the performer) and even more radical cantabile in the central movements. Here, Vivaldi’s mastery is evident in a sensitive use of lines that are disarming in their simplicity yet tremendously expressive, using a modest language of triplets, appogiaturas and Lombard rhythms in perfect amounts to maximum effect.
A handwritten inventory of the music collection of the noble Collalto family at Brtnice attests along with 15 concertos by Vivaldi to a Duetto, or rather, a Sonata for 2 violins in five movements by one Andrea Zani, a composer who emulated Vivaldi’s music and style to the degree that historians assume Zani studied under Vivaldi for a time. (That being said, Zani stands out as one of the purest and most interesting composers of instrumental music in Italy in the first half of the 18th century. His works – at once original and innovative – are largely yet to be studied and performed.) Sadly all that survives of the Collalto collection is that inventory, but Zani’s Duetto has come down to us via three sources preserved in Sweden. As in Vivaldi’s compositions, the movements in Zani’s work are bipartite in form. Zani, too, establishes the colour palette of his compositions with highly effective progressions, employing the whole expressive armoury fielded by his idol, Vivaldi. Zani’s writing also makes frequent use of a great rhythmic propulsion. Finally, and in contrast to Vivaldi, Zani did not provide a bass ad libitum, indicating his clear intent for duo rather than trio sonata performance.