Named a 'Choice' recording by BBC Music Magazine upon release, this popular recording of seventeenth century vocal music features mezzo-soprano Catherine King and lutenist Jacob Heringman with tenor Charles Daniels. Originally released in 1999, 'Airs de cour' has been re-issued as part of Linn's ECHO series which offers a second chance to enjoy the best of the label's award-winning catalogue. The listener is transported to the French court in a program of courtly airs and solo lute pieces, the latter a suitable complement to the airs and the lost ideals of the courtly society they reflect. Both the self-indulgent texts of these songs and their suave and rhythmically evasive melodies, reflect a society rich in excess, intrigue and dissembling, all the more fascinating for being so distant, no less impressive for being so introverted. Well schooled in period performance, all the performers pay due attention to the authenticity of pronunciation and ornamentation for which scant records remain. 'O dieux je ne sçais pas' is a rare example where an ornamented variant of the melody is included in the manuscript revealing a further level of riches in these songs. Catherine King is acknowledged as one of the most versatile mezzo-sopranos of her generation with an impressive breadth of repertoire. Jacob Heringman has established himself as one of the world's most respected and most innovative solo lute players. Catherine King and Jacob Heringman have made numerous appearances together in festivals throughout Europe, as well as broadcasting frequently for the BBC and for WDR in Cologne. Charles Daniels is an English tenor, particularly noted for his performances of baroque music. He is a frequent soloist with The King's Consort, and has made over 25 recordings with the ensemble.

REVIEWS:

Dirty Linen (8-9/99, p.65) - "...one of America's best lutenists....offers 44 tracks of music from three manuscripts from the 17th century. There is generally more nobility than abandon in the treatments...masterfully played."

Barto is the most eloquent of them all.

Robert Barto’s distinguished Weiss recordings for Naxos have now reached volume nine. As before he demonstrates a wide range of tone colours, immaculate technical address and an unerring appreciation of Weiss’ quasi-improvisational style. The result is a trio of performances that in every way meets the expectations now placed in the lutenist. And if none of these works approaches the majesty of those contained in, say volume seven of the series (see review) then one must also concede that they nevertheless contain all those elements that make Weiss so noble, so expressive and so powerfully important a composer in this milieu.

The C minor sonata, cast in six movements, is by some way the longest and grandest of the three here. The extensive French overture is beautifully nuanced in all three of its sections, Barto’s technical armoury entirely equal to the demands placed on it and his colouristic sense fully engaged from the start. The Campanella-like Bourée sees him emphasise the bell like articulation implicit within it and he does so with brilliant articulation. As ever he plays Weiss’s slow movement with affecting lyricism; the most impressive in this set is the Siciliana of this C minor, which is taken at a suitably slow tempo. The concerto-like flourishes of the Presto finale are despatched with aplomb, the writing rich and externalised, and the playing virtuosic.

The F major [No.32] is an earlier work written conjecturally some time between 1720 and 1725. It’s performed in the Dresden version as three copies survive, representing two different versions. Its Allemande is refined and leisurely and full of decorative assurance but for me the highlight is the Bourée. Not only is this an example of Weiss at his most uplifting but it also reveals some of Barto’s great strengths – an ability to infuse the music with the most buoyant and immaculate rhythmic incisiveness allied to great warmth of tonal resources. These qualities are heightened by the succeeding cantabile of the Sarabande and by the Gigue that concludes the sonata. One of the revisions undertaken by Weiss was to replace a Gigue in 6/8 with one in 9/8 and the result is engaging and buoyant.

The final work stands at a slight remove from its companions. The G minor No.94 derives from a manuscript in the Glinka Museum in Moscow, music conjecturally brought to Russia from Dresden by Weiss’ pupil Bielogradsky. Whatever the exact origin or derivation it’s a small, charming series of dances with a delightful Paisane and a rare, early use of the Polonaise in its penultimate movement.

The recording, made in St Andrew’s Church, Toddington, is once again first class and Tim Crawford’s notes enhance this characteristically fine disc. Barto has competitors in Weiss recordings – Imamura and Lindberg among them - but for my money he is the most eloquent of them all, and this comprehensive series is a tribute to his skill and involvement.

Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

Silvius Leopold Weiss is a composer whose compositions for the lute have been subject of much academic research and now enjoy an extensive discography. His early works, featured on this new release, show the new Italian influence on the young composer. Joachim Held is one of the foremost lute players of his generation. He captivates his audience with the refinement of his playing and moves the listener with expressing the different moods of the soul. In 2006 Joachim Held became the first ever lute player to receive the renowned German Echo- Klassik Award. He won in the category of "Best soloist recording of the year" for his album "Delightful Lute-Pleasure. Baroque Lute music from the lands of the Habsburgs," released by Hanssler Classic.

The Antonio Castiglione (Casteliono) anthology, printed for the lute in Milan in 1536, is one of the most important documents of the period, testifying to how relevant the use of this instrument became - the very first to be dedicated 'intavolatura' - starting the diffusion for that 'home' use of music that will be the fortune of the main printers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The skill and knowledge of the performance practice of luteist Paolo Cherici - already a star of the interpretation of the music by Vincenzo Capirola (TC470301) - reveal to us in all it's freshness this musical cross-section of the Italian renaissance through the sounds and timbres of the lute and the vihuela. Paolo Cherici studied guitar under Ruggero Chiesa, then lute at the Schola Cantorum in Basel with Hopkinson Smith and Eugen M. Combois. He has made a large number of recordings, some of which have received high honors. He currently teaches at the Milan Conservatory.

John Dowland was the most famous English lutenist composer and his considerable reputation during his lifetime extended across Europe as a result of his extensive travels and appointments at several continental courts. In the address "To the reader" in his song book A Pilgrimes Solace published in 1612 he recorded that "being I am now entered into the fiftieth year of mine age" which means he was born in or around 1563. By 1588, when he was twenty-five, he was already listed amongst English musicians worthy of honor in Dr. John Case's Apologia musices and was again listed as one of England's greatest musicians in Francis Meres Palladis Tamia of 1598, but had to wait until 1612 to gain the appointment in the English court that he so much desired. Paul Beier lives in Milan, Italy, and teaches lute at the Civica Scuola di Musica Claudio Abbado. Alongside his concert and teaching activity, he also studies and researches historical sources of the lute repertoire. His recordings have received prizes and awards in the specialized international press.

The Lute was introduced into Europe from the Easy during the Medieval Era and maintained it's popularity throughout the seventeenth century. The repertoire of songs for voice and lute accompaniment composed during the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries was extensive, with European countries developing their own individual styles.

The connection between Johann Sebastian Bach and Sylvius Leopold Weiss goes beyond their having virtually identical dates. The two men were friends and in his young adulthood, Bach admired the more famous Weiss very much and in my opinion wrote much of his music, if not for Weiss, at least with Weiss or someone like him in mind.

Weiss was the Paganini of his day, his virtuosity amazed and overwhelmed listeners and challenged composers. Bach re-wrote much of his music, probably more than we are aware of because we only have a small number of surviving manuscripts of earlier versions. As a young man, Bach would expect to hear his music played by lutenists and clavichordists, but as these instruments fell out of favor, he could see that this was less and less likely, so he rewrote pieces to make them more suitable for harpsichord, and finally fortepiano, performance. After poring through some German essays on the subject, I am convinced Bach probably did not play the lute himself, but was interested in achieving lute sonority on harpsichords, and had at least one such “lute-harpsichord*” [*Scholars are still unsure just what that instrument was.] in his possession when he died. Recently there have been recordings of the first book of the Well Tempered Klavier which used clavichord, harpsichord, organ, and fortepiano for the various preludes and fugues, but my feeling is that one should also include some performances on the lute as well. By the time of the second volume, it is my opinion that this is a fortepiano work, and that explains why Bach rewrote many of the earlier pieces for inclusion therein, not to make them “better” but to make them more suitable for performance on the fortepiano. Professor Richard Jones particularly needs to study this point. When Weiss died in the same year as Bach, the lute as a solo virtuoso instrument virtually died with him.

Bach wrote an astonishing quantity of the finest preludes and fugues ever done but he also wrote dance pieces for his keyboard suites and his works for solo instrument. Most Bach enthusiasts pay very little attention to these dance pieces, but what is interesting is that Weiss’ pieces in similar forms are very similar in style to Bach’s and heard on the lute they are delightful. Performance of these smaller works of Bach on the lute would probably make them much more comprehensible, and in fact we have just such an instance with Paul Galbraith’s performance of the Sonatas And Partitas for solo violin on his six string guitar. It is the smaller dance pieces which gain most from this arrangement — indeed they become interesting enough to be listened to all by themselves. And that is what we hear on this recording listening to similar dances by Weiss.

A recent biography of Bach by Martin Geck enlarges the spotlight, giving much information about the surrounding circumstances in which Bach lived, deepening our understand of Bach as a man who lived in a culture and reacted to it. Another crippling legacy of Victorian musicology falls; instead of seeing all the musicians around Bach as mere imitators, and hence safely to be ignored, we see instead that they formed a musical culture in which Bach was immersed and with which he interacted profitably. A familiarity with Weiss, who spent his professional life at Dresden, 60 miles from Leipzig, is valuable to an understanding of Bach. For a long time this has been all but impossible as the music of Weiss was unknown and unplayed, presumed lost; but now we have this excellent series.

Recording perspective on Volume 6 is closer than on Volume 2 and finger slide noises are more evident. The introduzione to Sonata No.45 has a fugato section that is somewhat reminiscent of Handel’s “Harmonious Blacksmith” followed by a very Bachian courante. The sprightly bourrée is more syncopated than most Bach. The sarabande is appropriately stately, touching but not sad. The menuet is, again, sprightly with musical leaps not usually heard in a menuet. The presto is just that, but not a fugue as it would be with Bach, but rather reminiscent of the allegro from Bach’s BWV 998, a lute work, likely influenced by Weiss. If someone told you this movement was by Bach — unusually playful Bach to be sure — you would have no reason to doubt it.

The suites are apparently numbered in order of composition, so following No.45, a late work, we come to No.7, a much earlier work, beginning not with a prelude or an introduzione, but directly with a stately and thoughtful allemande, followed by a fast and rather Bachian (but not fugal) courante. The gavotte is graceful, with typical leaps, the sarabande particularly lovely and affecting. The menuet is dramatic, the gigue is as rollicking and Bachian as it can get without being a fugue. Altogether this earlier work keeps its unique personality but is not in any sense lacking in quality. Suite No.23, a work from the middle years, begins with a arpeggiated chordal prelude which leads at once into an entrée, an embellished aria; and on with the usual set of dances, finishing with a swinging saltarella — which could pass for a hornpipe — and is probably the most interesting work on the disk, showing Barto’s skill in saving the best for last, which is also true of Volume 2, the last movement on which is possibly my single favorite work by Weiss.

Throughout Mr. Barto plays with lyricism, rhythmic integrity, expression, sweetness of tone and clarity of voice — that is, amazing skill. Overall he’s every bit as good as Lindberg, perhaps with a little more drama and softness, whereas Lindberg pushes the limit on dexterity and precision. I think I like Barto’s lute, which has many of the qualities of an alto guitar, more than Lindberg’s lute which tends to “run out of breath”, but that could have more to do with the recording engineer.

-- Paul Shoemaker, MusicWeb International

Vincenzo Capirola (1474- after 1548) was one of the most important composers of Italian early 16th century instrumental music. + In the first decades of the century composers begin to write and publish specific instrumental pieces. + Consequently, instrumental music started to emerge from the medieval shadows. + Capirola played a leading role in this flourishing phase of instrumental repertoire. + His writing is strongly original, especially the ricercars, which have stunning compositional breadth.

Silvius Leopold Weiss loved the lute. An exact contemporary of J.S. Bach, he worked in the Dresden court composing hundreds of lute pieces. This volume by American Robert Barto is the eighth in his Naxos series.

For a variety of reasons - including an interdict on their distribution by his patron and the fact that many survive only in tablature, not to mention their extreme difficulty - it’s a wonder that we’re able to hear them at all. The provenance, near destruction and geographical scattering - collections exist in London and Dresden - make teeth-chattering reading. Indeed a sonata on the already-published Volume 1 (Naxos 8.553773) was misidentified as Number 36: it should be Number 11. This is all the more unnerving when one remembers in what high esteem Weiss was held both in Germany as lutenist while still alive, and subsequently by musicologists aware of his gifts and tantalised by the wished-for prospect of his having written music other than for the lute.

Barto presents three sonatas on this CD: Numbers 36, 19 and 34. It can be said from the start that the playing is sharp and expressive and thus that the CD can be immediately recommended. It will be interesting to see how a ‘rival’ series by Yasunori Imamura on Claves - so far only Volume 1 has been released on 50-2613 - compares. Barto’s approach more earthy than Imamura’s with slightly more poise and a ‘stringier’ sound; perhaps even more downright accomplished. Each has its merits and each more than passes muster. Reviews of previous volumes in the Naxos/Barto series on MusicWeb have been enthusiastic. Volume 8 is no exception.

Sonata - we should probably call it a Suite - 36 is highly typical of Weiss’s later approach: a three-part texture in cantabile style. It’s a lovely, gentle, work with intricacies and simplicities in equal measure. At times redolent of Bach - listen to the development of the end of the allegro, tr. 6, for example - the six movements follow one another like a happy, dancing couple.

Number 19 is harmonically conservative and shies away from anything at all angular or extrovert, though the music is full of impact and makes special use of folk dances. After listening to the Sonata, one seems to have experienced as much as heard the tunes, the overt and hidden rhythms and the contrasts between movements. Barto is highly skilled at leading us through that experience.

Number 34 is one of Weiss’s most popular sonatas and evidently was used for teaching. But it’s no simplified exercise. With superb part-writing and luminous, improvisatory singing sequences, it contains arguably the most lovely music on this CD.

If you’ve been collecting Barto’s Naxos Weiss series until now, you’ll need no encouragement to buy this latest volume. If you haven’t come across it yet, this is as good a place to start as any. If it’s the sound of the lute you’re after, then Weiss’s expertise drawing out every nuance will thrill and reward.

-- Mark Sealey, MusicWeb International

When do we ever have silence today? In the late 15th century, the renaissance philosopher Marsilio Ficino wrote that music was “nothing but a decoration of silence,” and music could bring out a “divine frenzy.” In our modern age, with piped music everywhere in lifts, airplanes and doctors’ offices, and music available on tap whenever and wherever we wish through digital media devices, our experience of music has been diluted, losing much of its original power. The Italian lutenist, Francesco da Milano, known as “il divino,” was said to have sent his audiences into a trance and rob them of their senses, save one, that of hearing. This album invites the 21st century listener into a world of sensual delight and a real decoration of silence. World-renowned lutenist Nigel North returned to the studio to continue his series of recordings of the works of Il Divino- better known as Francesco da Milano. “North leans more towards allowing a phrase’s flow gently to retard as it reaches the still pool of its final tone… ultimately it’s North’s intense introspection and empathy that make this a thoughtful programme…” (Gramophone)

"Record companies seem not, as yet, to have done very much to celebrate this year's 400th anniversary of the death of Queen Elizabeth I, so this delightful collection of music by her favorite lutenist deserves a particularly warm welcome....Since lute-players were strongly represented in the court musical establishment, to have earned the queen's special preference was no small distinction. It is clear from this selection of pieces for one or two lutes that Johnson fully merited it...The duets, in which Christopher Wilson is joined by Shirley Rumsey, include such attractive items as the Flat Pavan, with its distinctive melancholy flavour [sic], and sets of virtuoso variations on ground basses or popular songs, whose increasingly elaborate figurations are so perfectly coordinated that it is hard to believe that there are two players involved. Both here and in the solo pieces, however, the emphasis in these crisply elegant performances is not so much on virtuoso display as on creating an atmosphere of refined and courtly intimacy." - Elizabeth Roche, Daily Telegraph, 5/17/03

"With impressively executed divisions, charming music and a lustrous over-all ambience, this recording is a tonic to those who might otherwise think that lute music pre-Dowland is all hey nonny cuteness." - Anna Picard, The Independent, April 27, 2003

No question, recordings of lute music are primarily snapped up by specialists and serious fans of the instrument--it's probably a rare thing for an undecided record store shopper to just impulsively pick up and purchase such a disc as this perfectly fine program of music from "Jane Pickeringe's Lute Book". However, owing to the extraordinary talents of lutenist Jacob Heringman and the eight- and ten-course lutes featured on this recording, it's not inconceivable that a sympathetic listener would be drawn to this gentle, genteel, and agreeably tuneful music and to the ear-friendly sound. Although most of the represented works are by anonymous early-17th century composers, such luminaries as Byrd and Dowland appear in this mysterious collector's manuscript.


These 30 works (nearly 75 minutes' worth!) are characterized by nothing if not variety of mood and rhythmic structure, contained in all manner of familiar forms of the period--allemande, galliard, horn-pipe, pavane, fantasia. Heringman, whose credits include more than 50 recordings, many in collaboration with major artists, is a perfect guide to this repertoire. His playing is a marvel of clarity and evenness of articulation across registers, but he also is careful to bring the melody appropriate prominence against subordinate accompanying figures when required. His always tasteful ornaments and ability to obtain colors from a single instrument that make us wonder if we're actually hearing two add up to a rare and entertaining listening experience--nothing earth-shaking or ground-breaking, just solid music-making. The sound is quite resonant yet captures all the close-up detail we could ask for with no distracting squeaking or scraping. [6/29/2002]
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

REUSNER Delitiæ Testudinis, Vol. 1 • Paul Beier (lt) • STRADIVARIUS 33867 (78:47)


Esaias Reusner (1636–79) was taught the lute by his father, became familiar with the published music of such modern masters as Francois Dufault and Ennemond Gaultier, then was influenced by and studied under an unknown lutenist while a valet at the Polish court of Princess Radziwi??. He published two collections of lute suites in the then very popular French style that were very successful, and soon had a pronounced effect on other, similar compositions in the German States. His pieces—naturally contrapuntal, rich in passing dissonances, and prone to the expressive extremes then popular in this kind of intimate music-making—are uniformly attractive. The pavanes and sarabandes in particular revel in an eloquently lyrical melancholy.


Beier’s technique is good, but not perfect. The occasional glanced note—different in dynamics, resonance, and duration from all others around it—interferes with the musical line and his musical insight. Once you get past this, it’s easy to appreciate the fine degree of shading in the Couranta of the Suite No. 4, and the general warmth of tone, but the playing isn’t immaculate. These are stylistically strong performances by a fine lutenist, with the caveat that wrong notes do mar the surface.


The lute on this album is closely miked, but with a pleasantly dry ambiance that keeps textures clean and allows the instrument to sound for itself without any unneeded help from the environment. Beier’s own liner notes are excellent in discussing the influences at work on Reusner, and the disc is an unusually full one. Perhaps best of all, this is only Volume 1—meaning we can look forward to more of the Delitiæ Testudinis in the future. Barring slips of the fingers, this one’s definitely recommended.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal