There are many reasons to consider Carl Friedrich Abel (1723-1787) one of history's most unique musicians. He was a gambist, a player of an instrument long associated with an aristocracy that was then at the height of it's decadence. But today he would be labelled "avantgarde" as one who embraced the newest musical styles and indeed genres, playing a key role in the development of the symphony. This album opens with the Symphony in C from his Opus 10 set of six symphonies. Featuring an instrumentation of two oboes, two horns, two violins, viola and basso, the score has all the hallmarks of the era's symphonic music. Abel's only vocal work of note is the aria "Frena le belle" which he contributed to the pastiche opera Sifare. So inspiring is the music, it is regrettable that Abel did not find greater repute in the vocal repertoire. Abel's updated catalogue (AbelWV, publ. Gunter von Zadow, 2023) includes 420 works, of which 29 are concertos for solo instruments. These follow the typical pattern, with three movements (first and third played fast in the home key, the second more slowly in a separate albeit related key) starting and ending in orchestral ritornellos, which are also interposed between each solo. That notwithstanding, the Flute Concerto in E minor has a very particular structure consisting of three movements all in minor keys. The viola section was reconstructed by Wolfgang Kostujak. The Harpsichord Concerto in D Guntersberg, 2022) derives from a manuscript produced by two unidentified copyists. This score, bearing an Italian title without reference to the pianoforte, suggests it was composed while Abel was still in Germany. Of the numerous concertos Abel himself performed as solo gambist during his life in London, tragically, none remain. The two on this album (Guntersberg) therefore merit some explanation. The Concerto in A comes to us from an unfinished manuscript by an unknown copyist, with no mention of the work's composer, but a comprehensive analysis of the music has led Thomas Fritzsch to attribute it to Abel. Kostujak has reconstructed the parts for first and second violins, viola, and a few passages for basso. The Concerto in G is none other than the Cello Concerto in B flat, in turn the same as the Flute Concerto in C. Such repurposing of works is not exceptional in Abel's catalogue, and a detailed analysis provides ample evidence that this was intended for viola da gamba in the original version. Other information: - Booklet in English contains liner notes by the director, Alejandro Marias, and profiles of the soloists and the ensemble - The Spanish liner notes are available for download at www. Brilliantclassics. com

When the 18-year-old Georg Friedrich Handel arrived in Hamburg to immerse himself in the dazzling world of opera, he sat in the violin section as though he could not count to five, according to his friend Johann Mattheson. A year later, he presented his first stage work, and by the age of 21, he had already won the hearts of the Italians - a prodigy of boundless versatility to whom no task was too difficult. Even where the clergy prohibited opera performances, the "dear Saxon", as they called him, ignited dramatic sparks. The two cantatas - one about the sorceress Armida, abandoned by her beloved, and the other about Emperor Nero's mother, condemned to death - are intense monodramas that continue to spellbind audiences today, especially when staged by an artist like Amanda Forsythe. One is grateful for the instrumental interludes that provide moments of respite between these captivating "pocket operas".

The Accademia Arcadia was flourishing in Rome at the time Andrea Stefano Fiore, one of Italy's true child prodigies, was there. The wide variety of stylistic influences and superlative quality of his cantatas, from lyrical simplicity to daring harmonic experiment, are confirmation of Fiore's uniquely poetic talent. Giovanni Antonio Giay succeeded Fiore in service at the royal court in Turin, and these world premiere recordings together reveal musical treasure of great value, sublimely documenting the extraordinary musical sensitivity of these rarely heard composers.

Georg Philipp Telemann Inauguration Cantatas 1721 On 21 September 1721, Georg Philipp Telemann, the newly installed cantor of the Hanseatic City of Hamburg, directed his first regular sacred music service. At the same time, he presented the faithful with a set program. A cantata was performed both before and after the sermon. At the conclusion of the service, an excerpt from a work to be performed later in it's entirety was presented - a "cliffhanger" whose continuation was undoubtedly highly anticipated by the congregation in light of the variety of music on offer. The Hamburger Ratsmusik revives this historic inaugural service here, and Simone Eckert breaks up the already extremely varied sequence of works by including four viola da gamba fantasias to complete the twelve works begun on earlier productions.

The unearthing of Telemann's Fantaisies pour la Basse de Viole in 2015 has been the most important discovery for the repertoire of viola da gamba in recent times. The compositions are a compendium of how Italian and French influences permeated the purely German language to create a specific style. Using the genre Fantasia, Telemann shows us a portrait full of audacity, freshness and compositional freedom hitherto unknown. Sara Ruiz plays on an anonymous viola da gamba dated around 1700. She chooses to emphasize the rotundness and the beauty of the tone, while her technical skills allow her to create a real drama. She does not hesitate to make use of a nice legato where a pleasant melody is encountered: she makes her instrument sing almost like a cello, i.e. a voice. With her, each Fantasia tells a story, every time a particular and thrilling one.

Carl Friedrich Abel was known in 18th-century London as the greatest gamba player of his day. Having been taught in Leipzig by JS Bach, Abel later worked closely with 'the London Bach', Johann Christian, and his own music shares a quality of liminal fantasy with that of his friend, poised as they were (in retrospect) on the threshold of the Baroque and Classical eras. Having moved to London for good in 1759, Abel soon attracted the admiration of the greatest English portraitist of the day, Thomas Gainsborough. The artist painted the composer, and played the gamba himself. It may well be that Abel wrote this collection of quasi-improvised solo works towards the end of his life with Gainsborough in mind. At any rate, the 'Drexel' nomenclature arose only once the manuscript of the pieces found it's way into the hands of the philanthropist Joseph William Drexel in 1877. As Alejandro Marias remarks in his booklet essay for this remarkable new recording, the manuscript asks more questions than it supplies answers. 'Why did he compile them, for whom, why in that order, did he ever play any of these scores, or was it an attempt to capture what inspiration had led him to improvise the night before?' For Marias, the collection is nonetheless 'one of the most important works in viola da gamba literature. It represents the last great viola da gamba player's most intimate moments, where he found the formal and stylistic freedom to express his deepest emotions, using his virtuosity to put it at the service of the music and not to make a mere technical display, however difficult some of these pieces may be. Recording it is one of the greatest challenges a viola da gamba player can face.' This album of the Drexel Manuscript makes a fine sequel to the previous collection of Abel's music led by Marias on Brilliant Classics, 'Between Two Worlds' (97437), which attracted great critical enthusiasm: 'The gamba playing by Alejandro Marias is superb, with a clear tone and sonorous depth... There is surely more to come, and I for one will look forward to further releases.' (Fanfare)