Galuppi is an original and Napoli's performance makes this a good choice for connoisseurs of 18th century keyboard music.

Galuppi is an original and Napoli's performance makes this a good choice for connoisseurs of 18th century keyboard music.

Though Baldassare Galuppi is rightly famed for his huge contribution to opera buffa, he was also a prolific and popular composer of keyboard music, particularly sonatas. When British pianist Peter Seivewright released on the Divine Art label a programme of Galuppi's keyboard sonatas in 1999 it was the first volume in a projected complete set running to ten discs and 90 sonatas. So far, and possibly because of ill health (see footnote), Seivewright appears to have got no further than volume 3 but in the last decade more sonatas have been unearthed, and there are now known to be over 130. This is the first Naxos CD devoted to Galuppi's music, and volume 1 of his keyboard sonatas. Volume 2 has not yet been released on CD, but is available as a download.

One immediate question about this recording - major or minor, depending on individual sensitivities - is the choice of a modern pianoforte (Steinway D). There will doubtless be many who feel that Galuppi's sonatas belong on a period instrument - whether harpsichord or fortepiano. The sonorities, slender textures and delicate ornamentations of his alternately late-Baroque and forward-looking pre-Galant music are sometimes partially lost in the lush, deep sound of Napoli's piano. Nevertheless, within these self-imposed limitations, Napoli's performance here is creditable - plenty of sensitivity, no misplaced showmanship.

There is no question, however, about Galuppi's masterly, mellifluous musicianship. Sonata after sonata is packed with beautiful melody and fluent invention, and it comes as no surprise that it was not only his opera music that was in great demand. But though Galuppi was himself a keyboard virtuoso, this is idiomatic music written with an eye on, or an ear to, the amateur player - it is varied, beautiful and rewarding, without being technically overwhelming.

Often the music is quite reminiscent of Domenico Scarlatti - the outer movements of the superbly imaginative Sonata in D, for example (incidentally incorrectly catalogued by Hedda Illy in E), or the ebullient two-and-a-half minute, one-movement Sonata in C, Illy 98. There are also reverberations of C.P.E. Bach, as in the refined Sonata in F and the thoughtful Sonata in F minor, and even of J.S. Bach, as in the Sonata in G.

But Galuppi is an original, without doubt, and Napoli's performance makes this altogether a good choice for connoisseurs of 18th century keyboard music, particularly those for whom the idiosyncratic colour of the harpsichord or fortepiano holds little attraction.

Sound quality is generally high, although the Sonata in C, Illy 57 does have a couple of minor imperfections that sound suspiciously like edit joins.

-- Byzantion, MusicWeb International Footnote The reviewer refers to Peter Seivewright’s ongoing series having halted at volume 3 ‘possibly due to ill health’. I want to point out for the benefit of potential customers (and the music industry) that Peter is very well indeed – he did in fact undergo surgery not too long ago but is doing very well; his projects (which include several CDs of Bach, a Reger disc and a series of American Piano Sonatas, have also been held up due to his work commitments – he moved from Scotland to help set up and manage the new Department of Music at the University of Trinidad and Tobago. His fourth volume of Galuppi has been recorded and will appear in due course, hopefully with the other projected volumes to follow a little more quickly than heretofore. Stephen Sutton (Divine Art)

The Ensemble Dreiklang Berlin presents this light-hearted album entitled Badinerie. The album’s title comes from the baroque dance which was frequently paired with a Gavotte, Sarabande, Minuet, and other dance movements to form a suite. The ensemble performs these works on recorders.

This is a reissue of Shumsky's analogue recording of over 30 years ago - released by Musicmasters (ASV) in 1979. The first thing to say unequivocally is how good the sound is for all that. It's certainly more 'restricted' than we might want now: less spacious and reverberant but in no sense claustrophobic. Although one would want such a reduction in sound-stage to concentrate our listening on the instrument, there is nevertheless a certain distance between microphone and violin. This has the result of seeming to capture a 'limited' performance, as much as a concentrated one.
 
Then, let's be grateful that there is now such an accessible and pleasing recording by Shumsky (1917-2000), one of the legendary violinists from the last century. His famed meticulousness and attempt at perfection is unlikely to fail to inspire. At the same time it may come across as a little too perfect, too much of an intention to do due homage to this great music at the expense of expressiveness. Contrast the approach taken in the interpretation of Rachel Podger (Channel Classics 24982), for example, where latitude works consistently well with a conviction that Bach's notes are sacrosanct.
 
It's almost as though Shumsky sees each movement as a problem to be solved, a hill to be climbed. Then he unobtrusively demonstrates how the expertise in whose tradition he knows he is squarely placed has solved it. The andante from the second (A minor) Sonata [CD.2 tr.11], for instance, is deliberate and paced - not that it lacks all life. But, perhaps, that such life is in a glass case close by.
 
On the other hand, when this measured and considered exposition is followed by the allegro, Shumsky's precision and self-denial win us straight back over … "I may be in a great tradition, I may be ultra-competent to the tips of my smallest fingernail", he seems to be saying, "but I will not flaunt it. It's all in the service of something greater. And something which we all implicitly know is greater without any need for self-promotion or exaggeration." This is most welcome. The point is further made in the way the very next movement (of the third Partita's preludio [CD.2. tr. 13]) exudes authority. The order on these CDs is G minor Sonata, D minor Partita, C major Sonata; B minor Partita, A minor Sonata, E major Partita. Yet it's an unselfconscious authority, and a quiet and generous authority that comes as much from love of the music as from gesture. Again, that's as it should be.
 
Shumsky's tone, intonation and attack are considered and contained. There is nothing wild or wayward. Yet, knowing what we do now about period instruments, the unnamed violin played throughout seems a little less (a little 'thinner') than the essence of all violins everywhere, which we might otherwise expect. But this is standard for the time and should not put us off. Just that it might not be expected. In other words, this recording is not a shining, slightly echoing and ultra-forward one, in which one can almost hear the varnish on the violin vibrate. But it nevertheless makes us listen to the music itself, and its player.
 
Were this recording being contemplated today, Shumsky might have taken some of his tempi differently… less contrast between fast and slow movements, for example, in order to heighten the tension. As it is, we tend to consider Shumsky's conception perhaps a little didactic and demonstrative in the best senses of those words. Not lacking in life, but as a result never really 'driving' the work in ways we have become used to in the last few years. He has, perhaps, a less overt awareness of the work's overall conception. Is more concerned with the particularities of each portion thereof.
 
To put it equally positively, for all Shumsky's preference for few and superbly-crafted recordings, this account of the pinnacle of the solo violinist's repertoire runs the risk, perhaps, of being thought 'exemplary', understated, even - on first hearing. Until you realise that its very neutrality is a completely legitimate way of bringing out the work's magnitude. It won't be everyone's favourite interpretation precisely because at least some measure of excitement, bravura or brilliance has now become the norm. But as an account that exemplifies the best and most solid from another age, it has a lot going for it.
 
-- Mark Seale, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

CORELLI Violin Sonatas, op. 5: No. 7 in d; No. 8 in e; No. 9 in A; No. 10 in F; No. 11 in E; No. 12 in d, “La follia” • François Fernandez (vn); Glen Wilson (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.557799 (62:53)


François Fernandez and Glen Wilson’s readings of the last six sonatas of Corelli’s op. 5 make up the second of a two-disc set (the first issued by Naxos as 8.557165). Harpsichordist Glen Wilson has provided the notes, in which he discusses the style of ornamentation, the use of harpsichord alone in realizing the figured bass, and the choice of A=400 (at which pitch Fernandez’s 1690 Andrea Guarneri violin, hardly so viola-like as might be expected, retains a surprising edge—of course, Corelli, like many of his contemporaries, avoided more than occasional use of the G string, supposedly because the bulkier string responded more sluggishly, so the higher tessitura doesn’t focus so intently on the instrument’s lower registers). Corelli’s sonatas influenced not only his contemporaries and immediate followers, but generations to come, and Fernandez and Wilson’s performances should make them equally impressive to modern listeners as well—not because of modern instruments or reliance on astringent timbres, but simply because they make these works breathe with a similar vital force as they must have exhibited in their own time. Even in these sonatas da camera the bass counterpoint should hold the most hidebound polyphonist’s attention, yet the melodies flow liquidly in the slow movements and they leap with sprightly, though controlled, energy in the fast ones. In the Ninth Sonata, Fernandez plays, on repeats, the ornaments provided by Corelli’s student, Geminiani, available in Hawkins’s History of Music (elsewhere, they try to remain true to the spirit of models that Roger claimed Corelli himself provided. Geminiani’s “ornaments,” as Wilson notes, amount almost to recomposition—heavy handed ones, in fact, some might think, in the spirit of Geminiani’s reworkings of Corelli’s solo sonatas as concerti grossi). Throughout, Wilson and Fernandez tease the textures of these works—which could alternatively be played with a noble (deadly?) restraint as inviolable masterpieces—with textural highlights, strong underscoring of the signature sequential passages, and zesty tempos. In Fernandez and Wilson’s performance, the famous “Follia” blends a somewhat melancholy dignity with the noted technical brilliance that made it a model for virtuosic showpieces through the generations. In this joie de vivre the duo seems to be having a thumpingly good time, as did Andrew Manze in so many pieces. Yet, with Corelli’s sonatas, Manze (Harmonia Mundi 907298, 26:5), with period instruments, wove sensitive, seductive fantasies. In 20:3, I reviewed John Holloway’s more abruptly rhetorical set, on period instruments (Novalis 150-128). And I also like Elizabeth Wallfisch’s set with the Locatelli Trio on Hyperion 66391, which Nils Anderson reviewed in 14:4.


Although Fernandez draws a somewhat reedy, acerbic sound from his violin, sound never seems an end in itself, nor does he rely upon it as a means to any other kind of end than a purely musical one. The engineers have balanced the harpsichord and violin almost perfectly; the ambiance remains clear and light. These performances constitute both an irrefutable argument for Corelli’s predominance and an irresistible introduction to his œuvre . In the last analysis, the choice between Manze, Holloway, and Fernandez depends more on the listener’s aesthetic predilections rather than on any superior merit. They are all authoritative in their very different ways. Fernandez belongs in this august company. Urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

BACH, J.S.: Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, BWV 1001-1

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It was Francisco Tárrega, composer and guitarist, who first transcribed Bach’s music for his own instrument, offering colour, tonal variety and clarity in an exploration of counterpoint. Tristan Manoukian’s transcription of the Partita No. 2 honours the precedent in its virtuosic and expressive writing. It is possible that the Suite and the Prelude, Fugue and Allegro were originally conceived for the so-called “lute-harpsichord”, a keyboard strung with gut that sounded like a lute. Bach’s version of Vivaldi’s Violin Concerto transforms and refashions it, and the guitar transcription is perfectly suited to convey the richness of its invention. Prizewinning guitarist Judicaël Perroy is one of the most exciting talents to have emerged in years.

Following a breathtaking Vivaldi album, Russian violinist and countertenor Dmitry Sinkovsky is turning to Bach music. Once again, he combines his unrivalled virtuosity in both arts to create an outstanding recording in which 3 famous violin concertos are paired with vocal hits by Bach: "Erbarme Dich", "Es ist vollbracht" and "Agnus Dei" from B minor mass. Russian virtuoso violinist Dmitry Sinkovsky has been a prizewinner in multiple international competitions, including the Bach Competition, Musica Antiqua Competition, and Romanus Weichlein. In 2011 he founded the La Voca Strumentale ensemble in Moscow, and was a conductor of Il Complesso Barocco from 2012 to 2014. He currently serves as a professor at the Moscow Conservatory where he teaches both violin and viola.

Handel, Scarlatti, Corelli, Stradella, Muffat ... From 1650 to the beginning of the eighteenth century, Rome exercised an immense power in attracting composers from all over Europe and experienced an intense moment of musical activity, because of - or in spite of - the papal administration. It was a prosperous period with a melting pot of influences. The programme devised here by the Roman conductor, Rinaldo Alessandrini, offers a complete and personal vision of the time, passionate and secular, lyrical (made sublime by Sandrine Piau) and orchestral, romantic in every way. Rinaldo Alessandrini is one of the leading figures in the international early music scene. His predilection for the Italian repertory and his constant preoccupation with the expressive characteristics specific to the Italian style of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries are the decisive factors that orientate his musical approach and interpretative options, both as the head of Concerto Italiano, of which he is the founder and director, and as a soloist and guest conductor.

Cantiones sacrae is the long-awaited follow up to Magnificat’s critically acclaimed 25th anniversary recording, Scattered Ashes. The Cantiones sacrae is an unusual work that stands quite apart from Schütz’s other published sacred music in both scale and style. The collection comprises forty Latin motets for four voices, plus a figured bass for continuo accompaniment (realized on this recording by lute, violone and organ), which was added later by the composer. The perfectly crafted works are composed in a learned, contrapuntal style rich in dissonance and range of expression. Schütz cleverly mirrors the intensely intimate nature of the texts using a musical language that looks to inward expression rather than to external effect. Schütz takes every opportunity to exploit vocal timbre and technique in the service of word-painting, with the virtuosic vocal lines ranging from a conservative imitative style to the most avant-garde, chromatic style of the Italian madrigal. Magnificat’s performance of the Opus 4 motets reveals Schütz to be a composer with an imagination of extraordinary variety.

Naxos' so-called "house pianist" Jeno Jandó is on top form in Bach's Goldberg Variations. He takes after Glenn Gould's perky tempos, dry-point articulation, and blueprint clarity, but on his own terms. For starters, Jandó does not link up variations without pausing or adapt a common pulse to unify groups of variations, opting instead to treat each one as a separate entity. Furthermore, Jandó takes all of the repeats, including the rare one in the Aria Da Capo that Weissenberg and Gavrilov observe. He embellishes some repeats more than others do, or simply phrases differently on the second go-rounds, albeit not to Murray Perahia or András Schiff's elaborate specifications.


If Jandó doesn't set records for speed, scintillation, and absolute rhythmic steadiness in the cross-handed variations, they still manage to swing, with plenty of breathing room to boot. Jandó takes a harder-nosed look than usual at the minor-key variations, as if he weren't interested in the canon at the fifth's melodic profundity or the canon at the seventh's wrenching chromatic zingers. And next to the inner drama and extraordinary harmonic tension Perahia illuminates in the famous "black pearl" 25th Variation, Jandó is relatively reticent. He also tends to scale his dynamics between mezzo-forte and mezzo-piano, although this may result from the close, somewhat airless, though not unattractive microphone placement. All in all, Jeno Jandó's Goldbergs add up to a solid, recommendable bargain alternative to the reference versions listed above.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Frank Peter Zimmermann is widely regarded as one of the foremost violinists of his generation. He has been performing with all major orchestras in the world, among which are the Berliner Philharmoniker with whom he made his debut in 1985 with Daniel Barenboim; the Wiener Philharmoniker with whom he played first time in 1983 with Lorin Maazel in Salzburg; the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, all London orchestras, as well as all big American orchestras. Frank Peter Zimmermann is a regular guest at all major music festivals, including Salzburg, Edinburgh and Lucerne.Over the years Frank Peter Zimmermann has built up an impressive discography, and has recorded virtually all major concerto repertoire. On this new release, he focuses on the original and reconstructed violin concertos of J. S. Bach. He plays on the 1711 Antonius Stradivari violin “Lady Inchiquin,” which is kindly provided by the Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen, Dusseldorf, “Kunst im Landesbesitz.”

Dorothea Seel brings us on this recording a historically informed performance of Handel’s flute sonatas. Performing on flauto traverso, Ms. Seel is accompanied by Luca Gugliemi on Cembalo. Dorothea Seel is a critically acclaimed performer. “…Dorothea Seel was a graceful and gentle flute soloist” (New York Times) “…with quite breathtaking athletic playing and hauntingly elegiac moments.” (Gramophone Magazine, Awards Issue 2014)

Giuseppe Tartini was born in Pirano d’Istria in 1692 but spent the majority of his life in Padua. He was not a lover of fame: indeed, it took Padre Martini a great deal of time and convincing before managing to obtain a portrait of Tartini for his private collection (this original portrait, painted by Vincenzo Rota, is the only one we have today). Despite all this, however, young musicians arrived from all over Europe to study with this musician who, essentially self-taught, had dedicated his life to perfecting the violin from both a technical and theoretical standpoint. In the not insignificant output of this “Master of Nations” (as he was called), the violin predominates, for Tartini composed few works other than the concertos and sonatas dedicated to this noble instrument. The justification for this choice may be found in his theoretical writings, which represented for the eighteenth century a new moment of discovery and evolution. Implored by many to compose for the opera in Venice, he responded that “a throat is not a neck of a violin,” and this comment was followed by a strong criticism of Vivaldi, who instead tried his hand at virtually every genre. This album features the concertos for flute, for strings, and various sonatas including the famous “Trillo del Diavolo.” The two soloists Massimo Mercelli and Marco Rogliano are accompanied by the Ensemble Respighi from Bologna.

Classical Music

Frescobaldi’s book of Capricci from 1624 was intended as a continuation of his 1615 Book of Ricercari. It was clearly conceived, however, for the keyboard, an idiom for which this work is a masterpiece, both in regard to contrapuntal technique and to the exceedingly refined art and skill of harpsichord and organ writing. The interdependence of these two books is underlined by their publishing history already beginning with the second edition of the Capricci of 1626, and continuing for the later ones of 1628 and 1642. The first editions of the Ricercari (1615 and 1618) included five canzonas, after which the planned “second book” in actuality took on such particular characteristics that Frescobaldi decided to give the work its own title, that of “Capricci”: “In these compositions entitled Capricci, I have not kept to as simple a style as in my Ricercari.” Once again, by Frescobaldi’s own admission in his dedication to the Modenese prince Alfonso d’Este, the guiding hand of Luzzaschi is to be found at the origin of this work: “I owe to Your Highness, as Prince, who from birth has retained from his ancestors the ancient and hereditary protection of the arts, the fruit of these musical labors to which I dedicated myself in my early years under the discipline of Signor Luzzasco, most rare organist and dearest servant of the Most Serene House of Este.”

Classical Music

Classical Music

BUXTEHUDE: Chamber Music (Complete), Vol. 1 - 7 Sonatas, Op.

Canadian-born Michael Unger is a multi-award winner, including First Prize in the 2008 Sixth International Organ Competition Musashino-Tokyo, Japan, and First and Audience Prize in the 2008 American Guild of Organists' National Young Artists Competition.

Handel’s violin sonatas have been staples of the repertoire for generations, but there has been considerable confusion about their authenticity. Early editorial practice saw to it that several authentic works were published for instruments such as flute and oboe, but more recent scholarship has established that originally they were written for the violin. All the sonatas are full of Handel’s dashing bravura and his gift for expressive slow movements, providing a series of beautifully proportioned masterpieces. Ariadne Daskalakis’s recording of the Tartini Violin Concertos (8.570222) was welcomed with acclaim for its ‘grace and lyrical poetry’. (MusicWeb International)

Sara Mingardo, Ruth Rosique and Atonio Abete lead the cast in this premiere recording of Handel's opera from Turin's Teatro Carignano in 2009. Davide Livermore, the director, makes this 2009 production both enjoyable and interesting to watch. It has been recorded in the newly restored and beautiful Teatro Carignano in Turin and features Sara Mingardo, Ruth Rosique and Atonio Abete in the leading roles. Based on the well-known mythological story narrated by Ovid in the Metamorphoses, this is a classical tale of jealousy and love. The giant Polyphemus tries to force his attention on the fair sea-nymph Galatea, who is in love with the shepherd Aci. When mad jealousy drives Polyphemus to kill his rival, Galatea asks her father Nereus to turn Aci’s blood into a river so that, flowing into the sea, he will join her forevermore. Directed by Davide Livermore, Matteo Ricchetti. Starring Ruth Rosique, Antonio Abete, Cristina Banchetti. Language: Italian Subtitles: English, Italian, German, French, Spanish

VIVALDI Violin Concertos: in F, RV 287; in g, RV 321; in d, RV 240 . Double Violin Concertos: in C, RV 508; in g, RV 517. String Concertos: in C, RV 113; in D, RV 123 • Giorgio Sasso (vn, cond); Paolo Perrone (vn); Insieme Strumentale di Roma (period instruments) • STRADIVARIUS 33944 (68:09)


Stradivarius’s notes somewhat vaguely mention world premiere recordings; three of these works, RV 240, 508, 517, have appeared in collections reviewed, or to be reviewed, in Fanfare (RV 240 and RV 508 appear in the recording by Il Pomo d’Oro, Naïve 30550, while Gli Incogniti included RV 517 in their collection on Zig-Zag 310, 36:4). Giorgio Sasso’s recording with Insieme Strumentale di Roma took place in the Church of San Lorenzo in Panisperna in October 2011.


The program opens with the Violin Concerto in F Major, RV 287, beginning with bumptious resonant strokes that the ensemble surrounds with reverberant silence. The engineers have miked Giorgio Sasso, who already proves to be an aggressive violin soloist, up close, revealing both the starch in his articulation and the considerable beauty of his tone. Violinist and ensemble eschew lightening tempos, achieving their effects timbrally rather than temporally. They bring out the contrast between the brilliant upper registers and the booming bass parts (all with only six instruments—but including organ in the concertos, RV 240 and RV 113). In the slow movement, too, they combine the warmth of I Musici’s old recordings (or those of the Virtuosi di Roma) and the elegance of Arthur Grumiaux’s Baroque recreations with the chunkiness characteristic of many now mainstream period-instrument ensembles. When the textures support the balance, the engineers focus on the harpsichord part, as they do in RV 287’s Largo . Sasso interlaces the Finale with pointed rhythmic interjections.


The Concerto in C Major, RV 508, for Two Violins, begins with a sweeping tutti, but the soloists engage in virtuosic dialogue through much of the movement, and Sasso and Paolo Perrone carom off each other like so many weightless and frictionless billiard balls. In the slow movement, Sasso and Perrone stretch engaging ruminations over a framework of steady notes in the upper strings, while in the Finale they cavort vivaciously if not virtuosically.


The program’s other Double Violin Concerto, RV 517, in G Minor, follows. Its first movement begins fugally (and this fugal writing returns later toward the movement’s end), and the ensemble prises apart the contrapuntal lines with a clarity of cleanly etched glass. The violin soloists provide relief in arch homophonic interplay. They generally play together, too, burnishing affecting emotional highlights on the slow movement’s stately melodic material. The Finale also begins contrapuntal, but features more homophonic solo sections, recalling those in the first movement. Sasso and Perrone bring enough crisp gusto even to these less prepossessing solos to keep the music perpetually fresh.


The ensemble pieces the first movement of the String Concerto, RV 113 in C Major, out of insistent, infectious rhythmic motives, but provides a moment of respite by making the figuration of the slow movement flow gently before the brisk repartee of the Finale. The soloists and ensemble alternate portentous statements and playful figurations in the first movement of the Violin Concerto in G Minor, RV 321. After their lyricism in the slow movement, they return to stronger punctuation in the Finale. The Violin Concerto in D Minor, RV 240, joined by continuo organ in the ensemble’s recording, appears the longest of the works in their program. Pablo Queipo de Llano’s notes suggest that Vivaldi wrote it between 1710 and 1715; and while he notes the incisiveness of its melodic elements, listeners may fasten instead upon the flowing lyricism that Sasso brings to its first movement, the ensemble’s dramatic interjections in the slow movement surrounding the melting lyricism of the solo part, and the leaping figuration that Sasso negotiates with such violinistic agility in the Finale. The program concludes with another of the string concertos, RV 123 in D Major, shortest of the works on the program. The ensemble’s jubilant playing of the first movement, its steady figuration alternating in dynamic level, the at times hushed solemnity it brings to the brief slow movement, and the fugal splendor of the Finale’s opening (reminiscent of Bach’s Fourth Brandenburg Concerto), make the work a memorable conclusion to the program.


If Bach learned a great deal about Italian concertos by transcribing Vivaldi’s works in the genre, he missed one of the central pillars that support them: their soloistic drama. That’s in evidence in Stradivarius’s recording, one of the most balanced and exhilarating of Vivaldi’s concertos that’s come my way in the last several years. Urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Classical Music

These works are so familiar--and so frequently successfully recorded--that a reviewer can almost admire the record buyer who already owns one or two versions (say, one on modern instruments and another on period) and doesn't have to sit and analyze another. Decisions, decisions: Gardiner (Philips) is just about ideal on period instruments, but Norrington (Virgin), also on period instruments, has more personality and offers some surprises from the brass. Charles Mackerras (Telarc), with modern instruments, is brightly colored. But enough about them.

Both works were composed for outdoor events--heaven knows what they sounded like. The Water Music (1715, 1717) was used to entertain royalty floating up and down the Thames; some of it may have been played indoors with supper. The Royal Fireworks Music dates from 1749 and was to be performed in Green Park to celebrate the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle; the rehearsal, a week earlier, was attended by 12,000 people. At the performance itself, the fireworks were unimpressive, but one of the pavilions caught fire. Talk about excitement.

Kevin Mallon leads a Toronto-based, 34-person group of period instrumentalists called the Aradia Ensemble on this new, bargain issue, and it's a terrific, ear-opening show. The music is, above all, joyful, with dance movements galore and plenty of giddy pomp. Mallon has rethought the tempos, almost all of which, he feels, should be quicker than we're accustomed to hearing. If you listen to the Air, the fourth movement to Suite No. 1, you'll be surprised at how good it sounds played without the usual serious "aura" that drags it down. Mallon writes in the accompanying notes that he looked at an 18th-century score for the piece and discovered it was marked "presto".


These quick tempos work most of the time, and if, for example, you overlook the fact that the alla hornpipe of the Water Music Suite No. 2 and the Rigaudon of No. 3 could only have been danced by a dancer on speed, and just listen to how effortlessly entertaining the music is, you'll love it. Mallon is not rigid in his fleetness, however: the final movement of Suite No. 1 is relaxed, and he slows it down even further for its last few seconds, giving it the stature it requires.


Mallon also adds side-drum and tambourines to a couple of the movements, and they add jollity and jauntiness; only a whiner would object. There's a thin line in this music between too ostentatious and too mild, and by keeping his forces slim and his tempos original and suited to the music, he avoids being either. When the trumpets and horns ring out they don't blare, and in La Paix from the Royal Fireworks Music, when Mallon uses transverse flutes (as suggested in the original manuscript), the effect is magical rather than just mellow. Listen to the overture of the Royal Fireworks, brass blasting, drums being banged with wooden-headed sticks, all at a military tempo that implies forward propulsion rather than combative stodginess.


If I have one criticism of the performances, it's similar to how I feel about the same conductor's recent recording of Rinaldo: the strings tend to attack softly, and I prefer more snap. Maybe I'm looking for trouble, but those slashing attacks tend to make you sit up and listen even more attentively. But these performances are wonderfully peppery nonetheless, and Naxos' absolutely natural recording captures every sound and balances the instruments ideally. This is both a bargain and a terrific reading. Highly recommended, and right to the top of the list. [3/7/2006]
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

This album was nominated for the 2008 Grammy Award for "Best Small Ensemble Performance."

Classical Music

Classical Music