Classical Music

The event known as 'Les grandes eaux Musicales de Versailles 2012', when all the fountains are working, accompanied by music, is presented by the Palace of Versailles in collaboration with Alpha. The music consists of a selection of absolute masterpieces of French Baroque music, from seventeenth- and eighteenth- century songs to great classics of the operatic repertoire, performed by some of the label's leading artists, including the ensemble Pygmalion, Le Poème Harmonique, Café Zimmermann and others.

After the success of the first fourteen reissues, which restored to the limelight some of the gems of the early music repertory in the catalogues of our labels, here are fourteen new titles to allow listeners to renew acquaintance with further treasures of the Renaissance and Baroque (and even a journey through time thanks to Raphaël Imbert’s album Bach Coltrane), performed by some of the leading interpreters of the genre; most of these discs won one or more awards on their first release. As with the first series, the artists have been asked to contribute to the booklets, in which, with a few years’ hindsight, they talk about their conception of the works and how they went about recording them. The photographers of the Magnum agency illustrate the covers of the series with their work; this time the common design element is the colour yellow.In addition to the 13 titles shown below, the album FIRENZE 161 by LE POEME HARMONIQUE, VINCENT DUMESTRE, will also be reissued.

Jean-Marie Leclair, a pure product of the 18th century, was at the crossroads of styles, cultivating a virtuosic art combining melodies à la française and Italian virtuosity stemming from Corelli and Vivaldi. He was 49 when he undertook his first (and only) lyric tragedy: Scylla et Glaucus. A veritable masterpiece, revealing the obvious influence of Rameau, Scylla et Glaucus left a strong mark on French opera. First performed at the Académie Royale de Musique in 1746, this opera, which had a run of 17 performances and enjoyed great success, was only rediscovered in the 1980s (by John Eliot Gardiner in Lyon).

During his lifetime Leclair was renowned for the accuracy, clarity and brilliance of his playing. His sonatas show both the boldness and the technical ease of their composer. Leclair never indulged in excessive virtuosity: in his works we find not only impressive technical brilliance but also precision, nobility and charm in their composition. This recording is devoted to the sonatas and concertos of Jean-Marie Leclair - works that deserve much greater recognition.

A study of seventeenth-century devotional songs inevitably implies a study of the individual at that time. Witnessing contrary movements that he did not always understand, beset by radical questionings on the subjects of belief and ethics, 'Baroque man' was faced with the same choices that face us today: choices between innovation and tradition, science and religion, the group and the individual, and so on; the examples are endless. A prayer set to music, the spiritual parody is a perfect embodiment of such conflicts: singing, as a source of elevation as much as of sensual pleasure, can make the soul of the sinner, like a fragile funambulist, topple this way or that, towards salvation on the one side or damnation on the other. The Jesuits, who were spiritual directors to many staunch believers among the aristocracy, had no qualms in using the sensual pleasures of the arts as instruments of salvation. To structure this recording we therefore used the method recommended by the Jesuit Philippe d'Angoumois in his Occupation continuelle en laquelle l'ame devote s'unit toujours avecque Dieu, a treatise written in 1618 for the use of ladies of the aristocracy. In this work he advises them to meditate each day of the week on a religious subject, in order to include the mysteries of spirituality in their daily routine. After a short catechism intended for children and a severe condemnation of the lewd song, our programme follows that path, with prayers on different themes for each day, thus creating an imaginary spiritual progression, as the soul seeks its salvation. In this 'mystical week', the soul moves from meditation on its sins (Monday) to contemplation of the glories of paradise (Sunday), from the fractures of the heart to inner healing, from primal Chaos to the Harmony of the spheres. The soul aims to create a bastion of Faith in order to resist the destructive forces of a century beset by strife. Recorded 10-13 December, Chapel of Notre-Dame de Bon Secours, Paris Recording and editing: Alessandra GALLERON Artistic direction: Thomas LECONTE

Jos Van Immerseel returns to chamber music and the accompaniment of young talents, two absolute priorities for him. In Chouchane Siranossian he has found a worthy partner, as gifted on the modern violin as she is on the Baroque instrument, a pupil of Tibor Varga, then of Zakhar Bron, as well as a disciple of Reinhard Goebel, whose first recording, on the Oehms label, attracted great attention (winning a ‘Diapason Découverte’). Here it is the Baroque violinist who engages in dialogue with the harpsichord of Jos Van Immerseel in a Franco-Italian program juxtaposing the music of the ‘Angel’ Leclair and the ‘Devil’ Locatelli, not forgetting Tartini’s famous ‘Devil’s Trill’ Sonata . . . Indeed, all this music is ‘devilishly’ difficult to play, but the Franco-Armenian violinist shows perfect mastery of it, combined with great inventiveness.

In 1683, Michel-Richard de Lalande entered the Chapelle Royale as a sous-maître after receiving the support of Louis XIV in a formidable recruitment competition. Still only twenty-five years old, the young composer would swiftly become established as the King’s favorite and ascend to the most coveted posts at court in a career spanning almost forty years. Above all, Louis included him in the consultations for the construction of the new Chapelle Royale, adjacent to Versailles Palace. As the arches gradually rose skywards, Lalande composed and revised his motets, which give expression to the then-peerless grandeur of the realm, while at the same time testifying to the chapel’s incomparable acoustics. His works – settings of psalms, hymns, the Te Deum – record the atmosphere at court in the liturgy, in times of both trouble and rejoicing. Following their earlier recording of Te Deum settings by Lully and Charpentier at the Chapelle Royale, Vincent Dumestre and Le Poème Harmonique have now returned to Versailles to tackle the music Lalande composed for that extraordinary place. Alongside the grands motets Deitatis majestatem and Ecce nunc benedicite, with their synthesis of royal pomp and the language of opera, they offer the deeply moving Miserere and the most grandiose Te Deum performed in the reign of Louis XIV, the Te Deum of the King himself.

After the success of the first fourteen reissues, which restored to the limelight some of the gems of the early music repertory in the catalogues of our labels, here are fourteen new titles to allow listeners to renew acquaintance with further treasures of the Renaissance and Baroque (and even a journey through time thanks to Raphaël Imbert’s album Bach Coltrane), performed by some of the leading interpreters of the genre; most of these discs won one or more awards on their first release. As with the first series, the artists have been asked to contribute to the booklets, in which, with a few years’ hindsight, they talk about their conception of the works and how they went about recording them. The photographers of the Magnum agency illustrate the covers of the series with their work; this time the common design element is the colour yellow.In addition to the 13 titles shown below, the album FIRENZE 161 by LE POEME HARMONIQUE, VINCENT DUMESTRE, will also be reissued.

Ensemble: L'Arpeggiata. Conductor: Christina Pluhar. Soloists: Johannette Zomer, Pino De Vittorio, Hans Jörg Mammel.

Complete Track List:

1 Avrilla mia (2'58)
2 O fronte serena (2'35)
3 Occhi soli d'amore (3'28)
4 Sinfonia 9 (5'29)
5 Ite sospiri miei (1'56)
6 Sonino, scherzino (1'27)
7 Io parto (2'37)
8 O cor sempre dolente (2'10)
9 L'Arpeggiata (2'42)
10 Galliarda prima (2'02)
11 Passacaglia (1'26)
12 Alma mia, dove t'en vai (1'59)
13 Sinfonia 8 (1'46)
14 Lacrime estreme (1'14)
15 Sinfonia 15 (2'29)
16 Tu che pallido (3'52)
17 Senso fallace (1'40)
18 Che fai tu (2'47)
19 Sinfonia 18 (6'27)
20 Ai conviti, alle nozze (1'42)
21 Tarantella di Sannicandro (3'13)
22 Figlio dormi (7'13)

The 'Eric Clapton of the lute' (BBC Magazine) comes back to the Alpha microphones, this time with the soprano Anna Reinhold. Here, Thomas Dunford applies his truly prodigious virtuosity to the eight Toccatas from the first book by Meister Kapsberger, giving us a veritable concert such as the composer himself might have proposed with, in counterpoint to the toccatas, a few of he loveliest airs by Caccini, Merula et al. The beauty of Anna Reinhold's voice (a young talent noticed especially in William Christie's 'Jardin des voix') has a freshness and energy that bring to mind the young performers at work in Alpha's earliest recordings. This goes to prove that there still remains much distance to cover in the discovery of Baroque art.

NEBRA Amor aumenta el valor • Luis Antonio González, cond; Olalla Alemán ( Horacio ); María Eugenia Boix ( Clelia ); Marta Infante ( Porsena ); Agnieszka Grzywacz ( Livio ); Soledad Cardoso ( Porcia ); Ana María Otxoa ( Calfurnia ); José Pizarro ( Mimo ); Músicos de su Alteza • ALPHA 171 (79:31 Text and Translation)


José de Nebra (1702–68) only sporadically appears in these pages, much as you’d expect of a composer who is seldom recorded. Yet during his lifetime, he was among the most celebrated of composers in his native Spain: principal organist at the royal chapel, and commissioned to compose a new repertoire for it after the archive was destroyed in 1734; deputy director and head of the royal choir school; Ferdinand VI’s choice as harpsichord teacher to the young prince. It was Ferdinand’s chronic inability to pay wages on time (in fairness, caused by the overweening military ambitions of his father, Philip V) that led Nebra to lavish much attention on the public theater, where he was highly successful. He composed well over 70 secular and sacred stage works between 1723 and 1751, with a single, final piece in 1761. Many received in excess of 20 well-attended first seasons, at a time when Handel was pleased to secure half that. Which isn’t to suggest a comparison upon merit, but to demonstrate Nebra’s great popularity.


Early in his career, in 1728, the kings of Spain and Portugal celebrated a double betrothal by proxy between their houses, and required an opera, Amor aumenta el valor , to add luster. It was not atypical at the time to engage multiple composers for one, though the arrangement of one composer per act was a little unusual. Giacomo Facco was given the prologue and third act to write, while Filippo Falconi had act II. Nebra was chosen to compose act I—a notable honor, considering that he was a quarter of a century younger than his colleagues. Only the prologue and act I survive, of which González chose to record the latter, citing its superiority to Facco’s efforts.


González also claims Nebra displays “complete mastery of the international musical, of Italian origin, that prevailed at the time.” Based solely on this example consisting of nearly 80 minutes of music, I tentatively agree. The recitative style is not unexpectedly conservative, resembling early Alessandro Scarlatti more than such contemporary Italians as Leo, Vinci, or Galuppi. But his arias, too, look back to the endless round of influential Roman cantatas commissioned by cardinals and bishops, and composed at the turn of the 18th century in response to Pope Innocent XII’s ban on all theatrical performances. There’s a certain kinship of origin with Handel, again, in the way Nebra uses a heavy, reiterative tread in “Adios, prenda de mi amor,” to depict reluctance and an equally heavy emotional weight, as Horacio bids a final farewell to the woman he must abandon to a rival. “Galanura, qué locura,” a cynical, Despina-like piece about selecting a lover for his wealth, recalls several Handel heroines in its skipping rhythm and flippant theme—much like Cleopatra before she falls for Caesar. Nebra rises to considerable dramatic power in Horacio’s “Ay, amor ay, Clelia mia,” a lament in prison for the hero’s love, with recorders tracing an imitative line that resembles a sympathetic Greek chorus.


I am less sanguinary about González’s remark that Nebra didn’t turn “his back on the Spanish tradition.” Presumably that’s true in other stage works of his, but only the rhythm and the brief stop-time harmony of a single piece, “Sopla el bóreas irritado,” indicates a slight Spanish folk influence in Amor aumenta el valor . The other example that might be put forward, from Mimo’s “Sopla hacia allí,” includes a modal ornament on the fifth usually associated in the late 19th- and 20th-century Spanish folk music with expressions of keening lament, but the piece in question is an archetypal aria di furore , so its single appearance seems out of place. I can’t help wondering whether it was a modern addition.


The performances are a mix, though never very bad, and in one instance very good. Mezzo Olalla Alemán supplies a fast vibrato, focused voice, and a beautifully floated tone. She manages her figurations and divisions well. Soledad Cardoso sings her display aria with distinction, if with little sense of awareness for its dramatic values; but then, González pushes the tempo too much for her comfort, something he also does as well in “Ay, amor ay, Clelia mia,” muting to a degree its theatrical effectiveness. María Eugenia Boix hits all the notes, but only sounds secure and free in her upper range. Her enunciation is also poor. Ana Maria Otxoa by contrast is strongest in her chest voice, with quavering tone and poor breath support as she rises. Agnieszka Grzywacz is slightly tremulous throughout her range though always stylish, with a clear sense of how to phrase, excellent enunciation, and a fine awareness of this music as theater. Contralto Marta Infante has a curious mixture of a fast vibrato with a white tone on held notes. She sings her figurations well, if not perfectly, and trades iffy intonation for dramatic power. As the sole tenor in the opera, José Pizarro has a tight production, and remains sketchy in figures and runs. He does a fine job communicating his character’s anger and contempt, however.


I’ve already mentioned González pushing several of his singers with uncomfortable tempos. Aside from this, he conducts well, with a firm hand that extends beyond the arias and into the recitatives. Oddly enough, he adds a chamber organ at several points to the otherwise authentic instrumentation he describes in the opera, without any attempt to justify it. Los Músicos de su Alteza furnishes exciting precision, strong accents, and firm dynamic control.


Fans of Italian Baroque opera will definitely want this release. Given Nebra’s obvious talent, I can only hope that it is followed by others demonstrating similar musical quality.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

BACH Italian Concerto, BWV 971; Overture in the French Manner, BWV 831 • Benjamin Alard (hpd) • ALPHA 180 (48:52)


The very first acquisition for any record collector seeking to build a library of harpsichord music should be Bach’s Clavier-Übung II . Published in Leipzig in 1735, it is Bach’s ultimate statement on the two prevailing styles of (secular) European music. At the very time that a bitter debate was raging in Paris on the relative merits of French and Italian music, German musicians such as Bach were embracing both styles by incorporating elements of Italian and French instrumental music into their works. Yet Bach went further than the rest; in the Italian Concerto, for example, he amalgamates the instrumental style of Corelli and Vivaldi with his own musical language, creating a one-of-a-kind piece that could never have been written by the likes of Telemann, Fasch, or Handel. Manfred Bukofzer calls Bach’s music “the fusion of national styles”, and the Italian Concerto is the perfect example of this. Aside from being tremendously exciting, BWV 971 is a pinnacle work of the Baroque that belongs in every library.


Prior to BWV 831, Bach had written many pieces in the French style, although he seldom used the characteristic double-dotted, bipartite ouverture as the opening movement. In the French Suites, for example, Bach typically begins with an allemande, in the English Suites with a prelude. The Fourth Partita, BWV 828, does begin with a grand ouverture , but this is a relatively isolated example. At 13 minutes, the opening Ouverture of BWV 831 is much longer than anything Bach had written previously in the form, a signal, perhaps, of how important this work was to him. The rest of the suite is filled with characteristic dances (gavotte, passepied, sarabande, bourée), many with doubles, although interestingly, there is no allemande. The work concludes with a Gigue and a joyous Echo; if the latter is played with proper spirit, it’s enough to get you up out of your chair and dancing around the room.


Benjamin Alard is a young French harpsichordist and organist who has a number of titles to his credit on the Alpha label. He has exactly one prior mention in Fanfare : Jerry Dubins called Alard’s recording of the partitas “the end-all and be-all” in 34:1. I haven’t heard that set yet (it’s on my “to-do” list), but I’m prepared to believe what Dubins says, because Alard’s playing on the present CD is very strong indeed. The watchwords are grace, precision, and a real sense of personality. For most recorded performances of the Italian Concerto , there exists a kind of consensus tempo in the outer movements; most performers, Alard included, cleave to the norm by adopting a healthy allegro and presto . The middle Andante is where the harpsichordist has an opportunity to make the performance his own. Alard plays the recurring bass motif (two eighth-note Ds) less ponderously than most; he does this by shortening the notes ever so slightly and inserting some daylight between them. The effect is perfect, because the music never stagnates, it moves along at a proper clip (the verb andante means, after all, to walk or move along). In BWV 831, all is well until the concluding Echo; Alard’s laid-back tempo here robs the music of a certain amount of drive and spark. It’s an interesting interpretative choice, but I refer the reader to the remarkable David Cates on Wildboar as an example of how outrageously exciting this piece can be in the right hands.


In Fanfare 34:2, I reviewed a Ramée CD with a similar program— Clavier-Übung II plus the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue—played by another young Frenchman, Pascal Dubreuil. Equally impressive—in fact, if you were to compare passages from the two CDs side-by-side, I suspect the tempos and other interpretative details would match up quite well. Choosing between the two comes down to the instruments, and perhaps price and availability. Dubreuil’s harpsichord, a copy of a Ruckers mis à grand ravalement , is sonorous and ideally recorded. Alard’s instrument, a copy of an unspecified German original by Anthony Sidey, has a singing treble and a slightly acerbic bass, making Bach’s part-writing unusually clear. The engineering is equally good. You pays yer money and makes yer choice.


FANFARE: Christopher Brodersen

Jos Van Immerseel celebrates his 70th birthday with three important releases punctuating the year's end at Alpha: a symphonic program (Janacek, Dvorak), a chamber music program (Schubert) and a set grouping re releases of his French music recordings. With his musicians and companions from Anima Eterna, he has created a veritable musical troupe, in turn students, orchestral players, soloists... Together, they seek the sound and style corresponding to their ideal, waiting months if necessary for the appropriate instrument to be ready before programming it. Happy Birthday, Mister Jos!