Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

In 1440 King Henry VI of England founded simultaneously two educational establishments to show his devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. These were ‘the College Roialle of our Ladie at Eton beside Windsor and….the College Roialle of our Ladie and St. Nicholas of Cambridge.’ Thus were established what became two of the most venerable seats of learning – and of liturgical music – in England: Eton College and King’s College, Cambridge.

At Eton, where the college actually opened its doors in 1443, evening devotion to the Virgin was prescribed in the statutes from the start, with the singers required to sing in the chapel an antiphon in her honour every evening – in Lent it was always to be the ‘Salve Regina’. Over the years a corpus of music was assembled at Eton and by the early sixteenth century a significant amount of it had been copied into that remarkable treasury of music, which survives to this day, the Eton Choirbook.

The Choirbook contains a substantial amount of music. Some composers are represented by just one piece, whereas John Browne has no less than fifteen of his pieces preserved in it. From this vast collection Stephen Darlington has chosen five pieces, all of them quite substantial and all of considerable interest. Music from the Choirbook has been recorded by many ensembles, not least by The Sixteen, but here Darlington offers us the authentic experience of hearing it sung by an all-male church choir which is just a little larger than the Eton establishment of the time: the Eton choir consisted of sixteen choristers and ten lay clerks while for this recording Christ Church’s choir comprised eighteen trebles, four altos and five each of tenors and basses.

Just before discussing the performances, it’s appropriate to note the reason for the well-chosen title of the CD. Stephen Darlington tells us in the booklet that in 1515 an Italian visitor to Eton described the singing he heard there as ‘more divine than human’.

I’m unsure if the music is presented in chronological order in the programme. Indeed, little is known about many of the composers whose music is included in the Choirbook, still less is it possible to date with precision the date of composition of individual pieces. However, to judge from the dates of birth and death of the featured composers, it seems plausible to suppose a rough chronology. Furthermore, the pieces do seem to grow in complexity and intricacy as the disc progresses. So listening to the contents of the disc in the order in which they’re presented makes a lot of sense, I think. It was interesting to come to this disc hot on the heels of reviewing a disc by the choir of Edinburgh Cathedral devoted to the music of John Taverner. Taverner’s music was probably written a little later than anything on this present disc and his output represented the high water mark of the English florid style. There’s nothing in this programme to match the sheer exuberance of Taverner’s music though one can sense that trait developing as the pieces succeed one another. Interestingly, Darlington’s choir are not as unbuttoned and open-throated as their Edinburgh peers – that’s not an implied criticism – and their smoother, more mellifluous style is appropriate, I think, to the slightly more sober, though no less interesting music that they have recorded here.

John Fawkyner’s name was completely new to me and, it seems, nothing is known of his life. Gaude rosa sine spina is one of two pieces by him in the Choirbook. It’s not a particularly elaborate piece. I think I’d describe it as patient music, since it makes its effect cumulatively. Stephen Darlington’s fine choir sing it with suitable patience too and build it up well so that the final, affirmative stanza makes the proper effect.

There were two composers named William Cornysh, the second (younger?) of whom died in 1523. It is thought that this setting of ‘Salve Regina’ is by the earlier Cornysh, who can claim a footnote in musical history as the very first informator choristorum at Westminster Abbey. His five-part ‘Salve Regina’ shows an advance on Fawkyner’s piece in that the music is richer in texture and harmony and the polyphony is more intricate. It’s also a very beautiful composition. The present performance is a splendid one. Not only is the music very skilfully sung but a fine sense of atmosphere is generated. Listening to it, I found it quite easy to conjure up a mental picture of a candlelit evening rendition in the Eton chapel.

Walter Lambe’s ‘Magnificat’ is an alternatim setting This is a fine piece in which the polyphony frequently sounds celebratory. Stephen Darlington leads a strong performance.

Equally successful is the account of Richard Davy’s In honore summe matris. This is a luxuriantly expansive piece. The technical aspects of the music are very clever for we read in Timothy Symons’ good notes that the piece contains passages for no less than nine different combinations of two-part writing. These are all well done and the sections for full choir are no less impressive. Towards the end, leading up to and during the closing ‘Amen’, Davy employs triplets in some of the parts. In my experience this rhythmic device is not that common in music of this period and it makes an exciting effect.

Finally we hear Browne’s ‘Stabat Mater’, one of the jewels in the Choirbook. As befits the text, the tone of the music is quite sombre at the start but the music opens up as it unfolds and much of the full choir writing is texturally rich. It’s an imposing piece, which becomes ever more impressive as it progresses, and the concluding ‘Amen’ is quite magnificent. The choir perform it splendidly, sustaining the long lines, which are musically and mentally taxing, expertly.

There’s some marvellous music here. Throughout this fine disc the singing of the Christ Church is cultured and very impressive. They display excellent control and the tone is full and consistently pleasing to hear. There’s always good clarity in the delivery of the part writing, no matter whether a small group or the full choir is singing. It’s obvious that they’ve been expertly trained by Stephen Darlington. The recorded sound is atmospheric and reports the choir with clarity and presence.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

R E V I E W S:

"This follow-up to La Serenissima’s anthology ‘Vivaldi in Arcadia’, is particularly interesting for the Concertos RV212 and RV554a, which have been reconstructed by Adrian Chandler. The former is a violin concerto, composed in 1712 for a festival in Padua and played by Vivaldi himself. A set of parts surviving in Dresden was damaged; the booklet note remarks, seemingly without irony, that this was ‘whilst in safe-keeping’ during the Second World War. Chandler has added the harmony here and there, and selected one of the three slow movements and two cadenzas. The result is a delight... In Laudate pueri Dominum, Mhairi Lawson sings with great passion, wonderfully responsive to the meaning of the words. In the surprisingly meditative Gloria, her vibrant soprano and Chandler’s violin sigh like lovers.The Salve regina is just as good...
Chandler’s direction is as gripping as his playing. As ever, one is lost in admiration at the skills of the girls who sang and played at the Ospedale della Pietà, to whom this is a noble tribute."
- Richard Lawrence, GRAMOPHONE

"The mastermind behind this terrific CD, Adrian Chandler, is not only Director of La Serenissima and a violinist of flair and distinction; he is also a meticulous scholar, as his excellent booklet notes reveal. He has clearly engaged in much fruitful research in preparing for this recording, even carrying out imaginative reconstruction where necessary.
The result is a rich musical treat. All of this music was written by the ‘Red Priest’ for use in the Chapel of the Pietá, the Convent School for orphans (or ‘foundlings’) in Venice. The music on the generously filled disc consists of three instrumental concerti and two solo vocal cantatas, Laudate Pueri and Salve Regina. These are sung by the Scottish soprano Mhairi Lawson, who turns in thoroughly delightful performances... This, and all the other instrumental music, is realised superbly by the players of La Serenissima, the enlarged chamber ensemble named after the city of its inspiration; the name being, of course, a poetic soubriquet for Venice itself. The string sound is pure and bold, yet capable of great subtlety when required. They are underpinned by a continuo section of great richness: the harpsichord of Joseph McHardy, the theorbo (bass lute) of Richard Sweeney, and the organ playing of Robert Howarth.
Despite the scholarship, there is nothing ‘academic’ about the performance of this music. Indeed, it is exuberant and often full of élan and humour."
- Gwyn Parry-Jones, MusicWeb International

R E V I E W S:

"A highly visible figure as leader of the renowned English Consort for the past three decades and, in Canada, as the former music director of the National Arts Centre Orchestra, Trevor Pinnock has recently defected from the podium to resume his career as a keyboard virtuoso with these brilliant performances on the 18th-century Goermans-Taskin French harpsichord from the collection of the University of Edinburgh. The generous selection of 80 minutes includes two 1728 Suites in A minor and E minor flanked by six selections (L’Entretien des Muses, Les Tourbillons, Les Cyclopes, L’Enharmonique, L’Egyptienne and La Poule) from Rameau’s most beguiling character pieces. Avie’s recording of this remarkably well-voiced instrument is exemplary. Special recognition is due to the exquisite tuning of the instrument in French unequal temperament by John Raymond, which allows us to truly appreciate the boldness of Rameau’s tonal excursions."
- Daniel Foley, TheWholeNote.com

You’ve doubtless been wondering about it for some time. Now that the English Consort has folded, what will Trevor Pinnock do? Well, worry no longer. This album provides the answer, at least in part: he’ll record. In a real way, this Rameau is a return to Pinnock’s roots, as he’d performed the Pièces de Clavecin en Concerts with the Gailliard Harpsichord Trio while in his teens, and recorded Rameau’s harpsichord works in the 1970s.

This latest release shows him in excellent form. “La poule” is attentive to rhythmic values, without pushing the poor fowl’s tempo immoderately. The subtle hesitancy at the beginning of each clucking phrase works well, in a piece that is more difficult to play correctly than it seems at first glance. Both the “Musette en Rondeau” and the famed “Tambourin” from the same suite have a folklike insistence on their respective drones that never gets in the way of the relentless but judicious momentum.

While the “Fanfarinette” is faster than that recorded so well by Sophie Yates (Chandos CHAN 0708) and less inclined to maintain the piece’s skipping rhythm, Pinnock still applies notes inégales extensively and to great effect at phrase starts and conclusions. “La triomphante” is moderate and brash, with the strumming effect subtly emphasized: occasionally in the bass chords, or in the figuration, or in the rhythm accorded the right-hand melody. Ornamentation is always sensibly selected.

Pinnock isn’t afraid to bring his own interpretations to the mix on occasion, which is a nice way of saying that at times he moves into areas that turn their back on tradition as it’s currently understood. Is this necessarily wrong? I think you risk the hazard of the die when you enter the game, but Pinnock’s perceptions are interesting, usually convincing, and never made me think for once that I had a party recording on my hands. The A-Minor Sarabande is one good example in the “interesting” camp. Taken at a relatively slow, steady tempo, the ornamentation is paced for a much faster piece. This focuses attention on the stately, gliding theme, though in some instances only the final note of the ornament registers. I don’t consider the results successful, but I can understand the reasoning behind the approach. More persuasive is Pinnock’s unusual handling of “La rappel des oiseaux.” The opening section and close are handled much quicker than usual, emphasizing the repetitive nature of the bird calls, while the middle section is taken slowly and freely, the better to emphasize the shifts in harmony. The harpsichordist makes use as well of his instrument’s 4? set of strings at the start to bring the music up an octave, then switches down to the 8? set for the central section, but only moves up an octave once more midway through the final section. It’s an imaginative effect, and one that again chips away at the prevailing myths that all harpsichords sound alike, and possess no variety of touch...

Pinnock’s harpsichord is a double-manual instrument by Goermans from 1764, significantly modified 20 years later by Taskin. It is a richly beautiful instrument, robust yet capable of delicacy, and caught to perfection with little action noise and just enough resonance to capture the bloom... This is a fine album, and one well worth your purchase.

Barry Brenesal, FANFARE

Monica Huggett and her ensemble Sonnerie scored a hit on Avie with their recording of Handel's Trio Sonatas, Op. 2 (AVI33). They continue their traversal of Handel's chamber works with the Organ Concertos, Op. 4, featuring soloist Matthew Halls, a brilliant young soloist who spins out Handel's endlessly tuneful works with an improvisatory flair that the composer - himself a virtuoso organist - would surely have approved of. On this CD, he plays a replica of a Baroque style chamber organ, built by Jaap Fama and Henk Klop, and owned by the Dutch Bach Society.

R E V I E W S:

"Sonnerie elect to open this delectable recording with the bright, extrovert Concerto No 4, which Handel based on music he had rejected from his autograph of Alcina. Matthew Halls begins this with a fabulous flourish on the organ before Sonnerie launch in, setting the pace for this lively and engaging disc. Halls, using a fascinating Dutch chamber organ which is perfect for the intimately balanced ensemble, plays the solos in Concerto No 6 (the 'harp' concerto) with admirable delicacy and affection...Although Halls is sometimes accompanied only by six musicians, the slow movements are surprisingly lush and evocative. Inspiring interpretations that are a joy from beginning to end"
- David Vickers, GRAMOPHONE

“I have always associated Vilnius with two things – the birthplace of the legendary Jascha Heifetz, and also a composer named Vytautas Barkauskas, whose best-known work for solo violin, Partita, I have loved since I was a teenager. When the opportunity came for me to give a concert in the Lithuanian capital, I went in search of both.” So said the enterprising violinist Philippe Graffin.

Philippe’s enquiring mind took him on a journey that led to this CD featuring works by Lithuania’s most notable living composer, including the world-premiere recording of the Duo Concertante for violin, viola and orchestra, with leading Japanese violist Nobuko Imai. Barkauskas’ music is bold and atmospheric, a compelling and powerful aural experience. He says, “Music is everything for me: miracle, mysticism, celebration, profession, pleasure, and ultimately – the reason for living!”

Vytautas BARKAUSKUS (b. 1931)
1. – 7. Jeux for violin and orchestra, Op. 117 (2003) dedicated to Philippe Graffin (20:51)
8. – 12. Partita for violin solo, Op. 12 (1967) (5:57)
13. – 14. 2 Monologues for viola solo, Op.71 (1983/2004) dedicated to Nobuko Imai (10:16)
15. – 19. Duo Concertante for violin, viola & orchestra, Op. 122 (2004) dedicated to Chiune and Yukiko Sugihara (28:29)

Classical Music

REVIEW:

This CD has been given the title “The French Connection,” but it has nothing to do with the 1971 film in which Gene Hackman plays a New York City police detective trying to figure out where all the heroin is coming from. Instead, the title is an allusion to the increasing interest that French and Italian composers (and music lovers in general) had in each other’s music during the 1720s and 1730s. Vivaldi was an important player in this virtual exchange program, and supplied music—either new or recycled—for French patrons and printers. Even music intended for domestic use sometimes spoke with a French accent, as it were, during this period. Try the opening of RV 211 (probably composed as an operatic entr’acte) and you’ll immediately hear, in the dotted rhythms and swooping flourishes, an example of Vivaldi “speaking French.” This CD, then, is a varied compilation of works that fit into one of the above categories. As usual, one is impressed with Vivaldi’s fecundity and flexibility.

Adrian Chandler’s booklet notes are in two parts. The first is a discussion of Vivaldi’s impact on French music, and vice-versa. The second is “A note on the performance—a musician’s perspective.” This is a really terrific bit of musicology that even a layman should be able to get into. For example, in two of the so-called “Paris” concertos, a theorbo is used in the continuo, but in the fifth concerto, it is replaced with a guitar. Why, you might ask? Chandler argues that this concerto appears to have been specifically composed for a French audience and is the most typically French in style; therefore, it makes sense to use a guitar, which apparently was uncommon in Italian orchestral music at that time. Chandler also explains the two fragments included on this CD—concertos lacking one or more movements. Schubert’s “Unfinished” is, after all, a fragment, too, argues Chandler. I don’t think either of these fragments rises to Schubert’s level (or Bruckner’s Ninth!), but I agree with Chandler that works shouldn’t be ignored just because they are incomplete.

At first I thought that these performances were going to be too aggressive, but fortunately that is not the case, at least for the most part. The playing is lively (but not rushed) and very well articulated, and the fast movements have an appealing bounce. The musicians seem to be having fun. The slow movements sing nicely, without too much sweetness. La Serenissima was founded in 1994 and has recorded several discs for Avie. I am sorry to have missed them until now, but I hope to make up for that. Flutist Bircher and bassoonist Whelan are members of the ensemble. Whelan is particularly delightful to hear as he burbles through Vivaldi’s busier passages. His bassoon, a modern copy of an old Venetian instrument, even sounds a little like a saxophone at times, and to my ears, that only adds to the fun.

The recording is rich and brilliant, but not everyone will like how it brings the soloists so well into the foreground.

FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

The 200th anniversary of Felix Mendelssohn’s birth in 2009 raised the popularity of his music to new heights. This new recording of his beloved Piano Trios is a rarity, performed on period instruments. The Benvenue Fortepiano Trio is lead by the enterprising violinist Monica Huggett, whose numerous recordings for Avie have consistently resulted in critical acclaim and sales success. Her partners here are two of America’s foremost period instrument practitioners, cellist Tanya Tomkins (making her second appearance on Avie) and Eric Zivian playing on an 1841 Viennese fortepiano.

Following a critically acclaimed recording of music from the Eton Choirbook, More Divine Than Human (AV 2167), The Choir of Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford returns with a second volume from the vast collection of 15th-century English sacred music, Choirs of Angels. The works range from John Browne's richly scored eight-part O Maria salvatoris mater, the first piece in the Eton Choirbook, to William Cornysh's exquisite miniature Ave Maria mater Dei, the choirbook's shortest work. The compositional range in the Eton Choirbook demands extraordinary virtuosity from its performers, and Stephen Darlington and his choir of men and boys do this glorious music tremendous justice. "hugely appealing ... natural, spacious, rich, expressive performances." - The Sunday Times "They do a fantastic job and the soundworld is terrific." - BBC Music Magazine

Anyone familiar with Apollo's Fire will recognise the exceptional baroque orchestra's engaging and entertaining principal cellist Rene Schiffer. Featured on dozens of the Apollo's Fire recordings, Rene steps into the spotlight for his solo debut recording with a meticulous rendering of that pillar of the baroque repertoire, J. S. Bach's Six Suites for Solo Cello. Deploying different instruments - a 1768 Benoit Fleury cello for the first four suites, an anonymous late 18th century violoncello piccolo with an added string for the fifth (in his own arrangement) and sixth - and multiple tunings, Rene's distinctive interpretations are in harmony with his comprehensive and probing liner notes which abound with theories and intellectual insights.

Expressing what cannot be expressed, what is sometimes beyond understanding, is a task that has challenged composers of sacred music for centuries. In his latest collection of vocal and choral works, award-winning Canadian composer Christopher Tyler Nickel aims to articulate these complex emotional states. The works range from Stabat Mater, an intimate portrayal of a mother's grief poignantly sung by soprano Catherine Redding; a collection of motets, both a cappella and accompanied, including the wonders expressed in a new setting of the O Magnum Mysterium; a meditative setting of the de Profundis; and an uplifting Magnificat. Chorus master Kari Turunen and the Vancouver Chamber Choir join forces with Clyde Mitchell and the Vancouver Contemporary Orchestra in performances that capture by turns the works' peace, grief, hope and transcendence through Nickel's very personal and spiritual musical language.

New York City-based viola da gambist Caroline Nicolas is one to watch - a captivating performer and "one of the finest gambists working today" (Gotham Early Music Scene). With her star rapidly in the ascendent, Caroline has performed with ensembles including The English Concert, Kammerorchester Basel, and Philharmonia Baroque, and collaborated with the likes of Jordi Savall, William Christie, and Kristian Bezuidenhout. For her solo debut recording, Caroline brings out the big guns of the viola da gamba repertoire from France's defining era of the instrument - the late 17th and early 18th centuries. Pièces de viole were integral to the French instrumental baroque, and Caroline's programme leads with selections by the master of the genre, Marin Marais. For contrast, Caroline juxtaposes the first Suite by the iconoclastic Antoine Forqueray, and in between offers a pair of amuse-bouche: an intricate Chaconne by Marais' tutor, Monsieur de Sainte-Colombe, and a Prelude by the pedagogue Le Sieur de Machy. In keeping with French viol music's nuance and relative restraint, Caroline is accompanied solely by theorbo, it's complementary timbre reflecting the repertoire's aesthetic.

Classical Music

To the best of my knowledge, Imogen Cooper has come only recently to directing as well as playing concertos. In October last year I heard her at the QEH with the Northern Sinfonia in Beethoven – her playing was as fresh and spontaneous as always. Here she is, on record, in Mozart, a composer clearly very close to her heart.

It is actually the 23rd concerto that we hear first on the disc. The opening is very serene, very unhurried, even slightly Romantic in feel. Maybe one should really start listening with K291 as K488 is almost too comfortable. That said, there are some nicely sprung rhythms later on and the cadenza is simply tremendous, exhibiting real depth. Throughout there is a chamber music feel to it all, the give-and-take between piano and - in particular - winds a joy. The famous F sharp minor slow movement begins with a piano rumination that had me in mind of Daniel Barenboim's early version of this work from his cycle of the 1960s and 1970s with the English Chamber Orchestra. Indeed, all credit to the Northern Sinfonia for sustaining Cooper's intensity so well and losing nothing to their more southerly colleagues. Cooper adds decorations to Mozart's large, bare intervals - towards the end, around six minutes in. The finale begins with Cooper opting for a completely different touch, a harder staccato that delineates the territory immediately. Again there seems to be very slight blurring from the middle frequencies of the orchestra, though.

The so-called Jeunehomme Concerto begins with Cooper rather surprisingly indulging in unnecessary point-making in her initial dialogue with the orchestra. Just one misjudgement – an over-tenutoed note on the orchestra around 1:28 in. But with Cooper's pianistic re-entrance, all is civility and expert balance. Cooper even relaxes enough to give a really cheeky end to the cadenza.

The middle Andantino is peppered with moments of magic; the finale contains large swathes of superbly even passagework, scampering around wonderfully. Perhaps Cooper milks the Menuet that forms the centrepiece of this finale rather, but one can still revel in the beauty of her phrasing. True, I still maintain much affection for Cooper's mentor, Alfred Brendel, in this piece - I refer to the earlier ASMF recording now on a Philips twofer - but Cooper's recording shall now ever be at its side.

There is little doubt that this disc will bring much joy. The applause at the close of both concertos is eminently deserved.

-- Colin Clarke, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Bach’s three Sonatas for viola da gamba and harpsichord were once thought to belong to the composer’s Cöthen period. His employer, prince Leopold, was an enthusiastic amateur gambist and the court orchestra boasted a performer of exceptional talent in Christian Ferdinand Abel. Yet it seems more likely that the pieces were written at Leipzig, possibly for Abel’s son Carl Friedrich who lived there for several years and who may even have been a Bach pupil. In all three Sonatas the gamba is partnered by an obbligato harpsichord, Bach placing the gamba line between the treble and bass keyboard strands to provide a distinct voice in the alto-tenor range. Bach always wrote expressively for this eloquent member of the viol family, above all in the wonderful G minor Sonata whose outer movements adhere to the ritornello principles of a Vivaldian concerto. Jonathan Manson and Trevor Pinnock form a hugely rewarding partnership. Both are spirited players with strong characters but who, yet, are susceptible to the sublime poetry of the Sonata’s centrally placed Adagio. There is much rewarding dialogue in these performances where neither player steals the limelight from the other. The conversational interplay between the instruments is animated and engaging and the rapport between the artists hardly can be placed in doubt. In short, I find greater athleticism and a greater sense of playful spontaneity here than in rival versions either by Jordi Savall and Ton Koopman for instance (Alia Vox) or Jaap Ter Linden and Richard Egarr (Harmonia Mundi). The fourth Sonata in their programme is a transcription of a piece best known in its B minor version for flute and harpsichord but which, in turn, derives from a partly preserved source in G minor. Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- Nicholas Anderson, BBC Music Magazine

Classical Music

Mirror in Mirror is one of the most personal recordings to date by best-selling violinist Anne Akiko Meyers, a reflective and spiritual journey that weaves a beautiful story through commissions and arrangements by Philip Glass, John Corigliano, Jakub Ciupinski and Morten Lauridsen, alongside works by Arvo Pärt and Maurice Ravel.

-----

REVIEW:

The American violinist Anne Akiko Meyers has always had a distinctive programming sense to go with her lush tone. But she has perhaps never been more original than on this, her 33rd album. Meyers calls the album one of her most personal projects, and the description holds up even though the recordings were made at several different times. The album is at once intelligently thought out, sensuously beautiful, and deeply spiritual. Highly recommended.

– All Music Guide (J. Manheim)

Adrian Chandler and La Serenissima’s 10th release for Avie—coinciding with the label’s 10th anniversary—has all the hallmarks that have made the Vivaldi specialists one of the best-selling and acclaimed period-instrument bands performing today. As with the chart-topping French Connection 2 (AVR 2218), which featured the world-premiere recording of the flute concerto “Il Gran Mogol,” Adrian has once again unearthed numerous works from this period, recorded for the first time.

-----

La Serenissima's latest album, “Venice by Night,” seeks to portray a night in Venice, with several thematically linked sections, starting with the arrival by Gondola. La Serenissima plays the Concerto for Bassoon and the dashing Violin Concerto in E minor with Chandler as the nimble and lyrical soloist. The musical journey also stops at the opera house to sample two enjoyable selections from L’Olimpiade, Vivaldi's Olympics opera. The album includes some neglected but worthy composers including Veracini, Lotti and Pollarolo. A particular standout is a remarkable Sinfonia for trumpet and strings by Giovanni Porta. Why he’s not better known today is a bit of a mystery but this collection shines some welcome light on his output.

– WQXR [7/2012]

BACH Trauer-Music, BWV 244a • Andrew Parrott, cond; Emily van Evera (sop); Clare Wilkinson (ms); Charles Daniels (ten); Tom Meglioranza (bar); Taverner Consort & Players • AVIE AV2241 (78:40 Text and Translation)


Anyone wishing to perform the funeral music for Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen, Bach’s onetime boss, comes up against a serious technical problem:There is no music for it, though the text survives. Doing something about such situations is the very stuff of much modern musicology. Consider the new movements for the music of Mahler, Elgar, Britten, even whole new music (in the style of or, perhaps, not: Manfred Tojahn’s for La clemenza di Tito or Luciano Berio’s for Turandot ). The arguments for this sort of thing are well worn but are still making the rounds: The composer did this sort of thing himself, the composer would have wanted this piece finished, it gives us a new view of this or that period, approach, style of the composer, and so on without any end in sight. Bach is an especial victim of this sort of carpentry, and BWV 244a is a tempting target, along with the St. Mark and St. Luke Passions.


When he compiled the Bach Werke-Verzeichnis in 1950, Wolfgang Schmieder noted that a good deal of Picander’s 1728 text fit certain numbers of the 1725 St. Matthew Passion (which is why it shares the same BWV number) and the 1727 Trauer-Ode (BWV 198). In what I assume will be the notes for this recording, Andrew Parrott makes clear what fits where, leaving only the problem of the recitatives, which he composed himself and about which he himself says “caveat emptor,” and the final organization of the whole, which he posits took place in four sections instead of what seems to be only two or three, and began the night before with the funeral itself, followed the next day with the memorial service. This necessitates a rearrangement of the libretto as printed, which he argues may not have represented exactly what happened.


To the question of why we need this reconstruction Parrott gives no direct answer, but, as the longest of the known remaining texts for which there is no music, it clearly constitutes a challenge. He also thinks it refreshing to encounter some of this music in a different context. It must be said, then, that Parrott meets this challenge with his customary energy and expertise.


This performance is made with the kind of disposition Parrott has used for decades, and argued forcefully for in The Essential Bach Choir (2001), mostly one-to-a-part, with the choruses doubled here. While this approach seems reasonable for the church cantatas, I think it entirely unlikely for the passions, the Trauer-Ode , and this piece, music that required the greatest possible effect, not least in the choruses. Interestingly, as with the Trauer-Ode and the secular cantatas, but not with the Passions, there are no chorales.


Let it be noted, then, that, within his musicological choices, Parrott has made a convincing job of this piece. The Taverner Consort plays with long-won expertise, and the soloists are uniformly good. The eight-member chorus just does not have enough gravity, and the sopranos tend to be a bit shrill in places. When it joins the tenor in two numbers, they are recorded distantly, though on their own quite close up, as is most of the recording. As near as I can tell, there is no other recording of an attempted reconstruction of this music. No matter; if one is needed, this one will do nicely.


FANFARE: Alan Swanson

FAURÉ Barcarolles (complete) . 3 Romances sans paroles , op. 17 • Charles Owen (pn) • AVIE AV 2240 (63:20)


At the midcentury there were still artists active who had known Fauré and were cognizant of his world, however rapidly it may have been passing. One thinks of Marguerite Long, Yvonne Lefébure, Vlado Perlemuter, Robert Casadesus, Jean Doyen. As Fauré passed from living memory, a new generation of pianists approached his works with the generic, heavily pedaled, freely rubatomized manner that was the pianistic lingua franca of the 20th century’s last third. Matters of touch—light or sec, and sparing—and rhythmic steadiness were forgotten or ignored, and the public came to accept what was offered, that is, a sound very different from that which Fauré took for granted. The matter is not one of insisting upon slavish adherence to a “sacred tradition”—now, in any case, beyond recall—but of cultivating those oddments of style facilitating the optimum realization of Fauré’s music, which trails a dimension not always evident from close reading of its performing directions.


The marvel is the breathing naturalness with which Charles Owen has accomplished it—a marvel so complete that one is delighted, moved, entranced, noting only how deftly it is done. Without giving accompaniments or subsidiary figures undue prominence, every part is alive and singing with absolute, silvery clarity. Complementing his nonpareil traversal of the nocturnes (Avie 2133, Fanfare 32:1), Owen wings the barcarolles’ expressive curve, from early blithesomeness through middle-period pith and wizardry to the spare poetry of wizened old age, with a sympathetic grasp reviving, for an hour, a vanished world. One leaves it overcome with gratitude—gratitude to the composer, the artist, and for their rare endeavor, which has turned out so ravishingly well. For decades, the great and aptly named Jean Doyen’s traversal of the complete piano works was an unfailing touchstone for revealing Fauré’s manner of saying important things conversationally. Unfortunately, Erato’s masters were in sorry shape and their transfer to CDs was a disappointment. The good news is that Owen overtops him, and in sound of detailed, open, savoring immediacy. Jessica Duchen’s knowing annotations—a beautifully written contribution to the Fauré literature—confect a final elegance. This is for the ages, classic and indispensable.


FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis