Ursula Mamlok’s Three Bagatelles are miniatures characterized by a free application of serial technique, courting expressionist parallels with rhetorical, concentrated gestures. In Tumbáo, Tania Leon uses a string bass pattern from her native Cuba without being confined to a specifically Latin style in its development. Graciane Finzi’s Espressivo evokes Romanticism (the period when the harpsichord almost disappeared from view) and could even be heard as an evocation of Chopin, but for a complementary tape part featuring a second, detuned harpsichord. Karola Obermüller composed the Suite des femmages as a set of tributes to both the composer Ruth Crawford Seeger and Obermüller's own mother, Barbara, and they are accordingly imbued with a ferocity and a bracing power which reflects her admiration for both the women and their accomplishments. Errolyn Wallen dedicated Louis’s Loops to her infant godson, and there is a playful quality to the juxtaposition of frenetic activity with oases of peace, where echoes of the past resurface poetically and sometimes with subtle irony.

Santa Ratniece took inspiration from the world of astronomy for Mira, which is named after a kind of pulsing star: with every pulse cycle, Mira increases in luminosity and strength. The Mobius-Ring of Misato Mochizuki describes an earthly scientific phenomenon, looping like Wallen’s and Ratniece’s works through evolving pulsations of the same material. Sofia Gubaidulina organized the Ritorno Perpetuo along complementary principles of varied repetition, determined in part by numerology and the Fibonacci sequence. This is the most extensive work on the album, but every piece here has something distinctive to say, and gains from its contrast with the others.

REVIEW:

Harpsichordist Luca Quintavalle's aim with this album is not simply to improve representation for female composers: he wants to eschew masculine perspectives entirely to allow feminine art to create a language of its own.

What this means in practice is that we are presented with a program of highly contrasting works that highlight the sheer breadth of music written by female composers for the harpsichord. Nearly all the pieces featured here are debut recordings, whether that’s of the piece as a whole, a new harpsichord arrangement by Quintavalle himself or the first recording on a Baroque instrument.

Gubaidulina’s Ritorno perpetuo and Mochizuki’s Moebius-Ring are the two substantial works on this album, each built on mathematical concepts and numerological elements. Just like his programming choices, there is nothing shy or retiring about Quintavalle’s playing. His bold efforts are matched by an exposed, clear acoustic, which brings out the intensity of the frenetic moments and the violent harmonic clashes. The hard edges are at the fore, with the harpsichord’s plucking effect utilised to its full powers.

Whether or not Quintavalle’s academic approach to gender parity in classical music has been successful is a slightly moot point: here we see the rich ways the writing of these composers can enlighten and work alongside one another to bring out new perspectives on an instrument that has enjoyed a contemporary resurgence over the last century.

-- BBC Music Magazine

Alfredo d’Ambrosio (1871-1914) was born in Naples and perhaps became a student of Marco Enrico Bossi, but he made his career around the turn of the last century once he moved to France. As the composer of small- and large-scale works for the violin that were premiered and performed by virtuoso soloists of the day, published internationally and appealing in different forms to both amateur and professional musicians, D’Ambrosio enjoyed a measure of fame that seems rapidly to have waned after his death, at the early age of 43. The present album has the field to itself (for now) in attempting a complementary survey of D’Ambrosio’s work as a salon musician. D’Ambrosio wrote a violin concerto, premiered in Berlin, and an opera, first heard in Nice in 1903, but his slender claim to fame rests on the album leaves recorded here, in which he records his friendship and esteem for distinguished colleagues. Aside from his publisher Decourcelle and his daughter Suzanne, D’Ambrosio pays tribute to the friendship of fellow violinists such as August Wilhelmj, Jacques Thibaud and Jan Kubelík. Then there is a trio of fellow violinist-composers, the best known of whom is Vittorio Monti (author of the Csardas which remains popular encore fare). There are elegies, canzonettas, ariettas, serenatas and romanzas, most of them just a minute or two in length, all written to be enjoyed equally by the musicians, the dedicatee and by their audience. They are revived here with native flair by the Gran Duo Italiano, who have made a series of acclaimed albums for Brilliant Classics, including the sonatas of Saint-Saens (94848) and the music of other lesser-known late-Romantic Italian contemporaries such as Santoliquido (96589) and Scalero (96160).

As the most celebrated singer in Venice during the 1640s, Anna Renzi created roles in operas by the great dramatists of the day including Ottavia in L’incoronazione di Poppea. As outlined by the booklet’s detailed essay on Renzi’s life and career, her career was not very long but dazzling. It centered round the many Venetian theatres and prestigious tours that took her to Florence, Genoa and Innsbruck: from 1640, when she made her debut in Rome, her home city, in an opera written by her alleged teacher Filiberto Laurenzi staged at the French embassy in Palazzo Pallavicini-Rospigliosi, to 1657 in Le fortune di Rodope e Damira, set to music by Pietro Andrea Ziani, at Teatro Sant’Aponal in Venice. Roberta Invernizzi begins her recital with ‘Disprezzata regina’ L’incoronazione di Poppea and follows it with two arias from Cesti’s lesser-known Argia of 1655, hardly less dazzling in the brilliance of its vocal line. O cara libertà is a standalone aria from a collection by a composer two generations after Monteverdi, Filiberto Laurenzi (1618-after 1651), and Invernizzi ends the album on a high with three arias from his little-known drama La Finta Savia.

Between the vocal selections, Ensemble Sezione Aurea insert instrumental interludes by Venetian contemporaries such as Rossi, Cima and Frescobaldi. The album as a whole adds up to a compelling portrait of Renzi, demonstrating her particular gift for bringing characters to vivid life on stage, and also a showcase for the vocal and dramatic talents of Roberta Invernizzi, who has taken lead roles in early operas under early-music luminaries including Alan Curtis, Rinaldo Alessandrini and Nikolaus Harnoncourt. The booklet also includes full sung texts and English translations.

REVIEW:

Roberta Invernizzi presents a tribute to a so-called opera diva, Venice’s most famous singer in the 1640s, Anna Renzi. With interpretations full of character, this is a successful, if somewhat brief tribute to her legendary ancestor.

-- Pizzicato (Remy Franck)

After Máximo Diego Pujol (born 1957) discovered a guitar in a closet at his parents’ home in Buenos Aires, Argentina, the eight-year-old Máximo took his first lessons from Don Gaspar Navarro, neighbor, and friend, as well as a fine tango and milonga player who taught all the children in the neighborhood. Later he studied with various authorities of the guitar including Alfredo Vicente Gascón, Abel Carlevaro and Leo Brouwer, graduating from the Juan José Castro Conservatory with the Superior Professor of Guitar diploma. In a place where tango was constantly floating in the air, he honed his skills as a performer by playing at Buenos Aires night clubs, both as a soloist and as an accompanist. He also played in a number of duos, trios, and quartets, immersing himself fully in every aspect of tango music. Since his earliest days as a professional musician and composer, Pujol has strived for a fusion of traditional Argentine tango and formal academic concepts. This musical quest stems from a thorough study of the works of Heitor Villa-Lobos and Leo Brouwer, who revolutionized guitar music by incorporating the instrument and its particular musical vocabulary in their own works. Máximo Diego Pujol’s music is the guitar testimony of such a complex country as Argentina, but it is also, and above all, the expression of a universal lyricism, feeding on eternal feelings like melancholy, nostalgia, sensuality, passion, anger, and love. This new recording contains the Variaciones sobre un tema de Atahualpa Yupanqui, Elegia por la muerte de un tanguero, Sonatina, and Suite del Plata, no. 1.

After Haydn composed The Seven Last Words for chamber orchestra as a devotional accompaniment to the Good Friday liturgy at Cadiz Cathedral in 1786, several other arrangements were made during his lifetime, by himself and others, all of them familiar to us now: as an oratorio with soloists and chorus, and in string quartet and solo keyboard transcriptions. The cycle continued to attract arrangers after Haydn’s death. In the course of researching them, the flautist Rafael Ruibérriz de Torres turned up a manuscript by Francisco Asenjo Barbieri, who transcribed it for flute and string quartet in 1840 – perhaps as a compositional exercise at the behest of his teacher, Ramon Carnicer, who had recently produced a flute quintet of his own. In any case, Barbieri’s arrangement presents a Romantic-era conception of Haydn’s work in which the flute part acquires the same importance as the other instruments, lending color and brilliance to the quartet parts. At points the flute line plays in unison with one or other of the strings (almost throughout Sonata II, for example), but elsewhere his melodic and contrapuntal contributions are woven into the fabric of Haydn’s score with masterly technique and no small measure of creative inspiration.

Franco Margola (1908–1992) had an unwavering and authentic love for the violin, lasting throughout his career and artistic development. This recording showcases the versatility of the Brescian composer and the evolution of his musical thought over his lifetime. Often resisting the fashions of his time, the composer balanced tradition and modernism. In the aftermath of the Second World War, Margola became intolerant of harsh and violent sounds and so preferred writing more relaxing pieces. Kinderkonzert No.2 is a work for violin and orchestra (1954). In the first movement, the writing is fluid and melodious. Only during the cadenza does the atmosphere become more serious, and the lightness that characterized the entire movement is only rediscovered with the return of the full orchestra. The next movement, Sostenuto, has a dreamlike character that comes to life in the central section with dance-style music. In the final Allegro, the soloist’s part is characterized by brilliant virtuosic writing which fits well into the articulated orchestral texture. Almost thirty years later, Margola wrote Concerto dell’alba for violin and string orchestra (1982). Intended to be the third of the Kinderkonzert, Concerto dell’alba sounds free from any form of modernism and cerebralism. Nevertheless, the composer uses a modern idiom with wisdom and discretion which creates a spontaneous musical eloquence and cantabile sound. A vigorous RondoÌ with lively popular tunes concludes the Concerto. The composer proposed a decidedly neoclassical writing style in Variazioni sopra un tema giocoso (1965), placing well calibrated sounds within a formal structure. Also neoclassical, Sonata in D (1931) is the first of a series of five violin sonatas and reveals the composer’s technical mastery. In the first movement, two themes are alternated: one serious, and the other dreamy, seemingly floating on the arpeggiated piano accompaniment.

The considerable fame that Bartolomeo Campagnoli (1751–1827) achieved during his own lifetime was largely due to his contribution to violin studies. The 41 Caprices he wrote for viola and the 7 Divertimenti for solo violin are still in use today. Campagnoli’s career as a concert performer began in Rome in 1775, continuing in a long tour of the courts of the capital cities of Europe. In 1797 he was made concert director and first violin at the Gewandhaus in Leipzig, a post that he held until 1818, although he also maintained his contacts with the most advanced and influential cultural centers of Europe. He thus enjoyed a florid exchange with some of the most famous teachers and Nevertheless, there is an unmistakably composers of the time, in particular with Cherubini and Kreutzer. The idea that ‘true expression depends on the sound, intonation, movement, taste and aplomb of the measure’ was a constant tenet with Campagnoli, as was his insistence on the need to understand clearly the character of each piece in order to appreciate to the full the composer’s intentions. All this required respect for the exact point in which embellishments have to be added (without exceeding), because: ‘nothing is more beautiful and moving than what is simple’.

Playwright Luise Gottsched, née Kulmus, in 1732 wrote a letter to her future husband, the writer Johann Christoph Gottsched: ‘The keyboard pieces sent over by Bach… are as difficult as they are beautiful. Even after playing them ten times, they still seem new to me.’ A few years later polymath and Bach’s former pupil Lorenz Christoph Mizler offered the following advice regarding these Clavier-Übung I partitas: ‘Anyone who has difficulties with keyboard fingering will find it difficult to learn the keyboard pieces written by the famous Mr. Bach in Leipzig’.

The name Sinfonia for the first movement in the Partita in C minor is redolent of opening cantata movements and the dotted rhythm of a French overture. The Grave adagio however, is not followed by the fugal fast section you would expect here. This approach was carried out more consistently and stylistically in the Partita in D major, although there the fast section approaches the form of a concerto. Instead, the Grave adagio of the Partita in C minor is followed by a sonata-like movement with an arabesque effect in the upper voice, followed by a lively fugato. As a result, the piece appears in three parts. In contrast, the opening Fantasia in the Partita in A minor is more akin to an invention, showing similarities with the opening section of the second English Suite of the same key. Moreover, since the 17th century, the distinction between the terms ‘Praeludium’ and ‘Praeambulum’ was insignificant. Yet Bach’s delicately sculpted Praeludium in the B flat major Partita, is stylistically very different from the concerto-like Praeambulum of the Partita in G major. Lastly, the Toccata in the Partita in E minor offers rhapsodic-improvisatory sections framing a fugue after the style of Froberg, whose works for keyboard instruments must have been known to Bach.

The Italian guitarist Angelo Marchese introduced the music of the Serbian-US composer Dušan Bogdanovic to the Brilliant Classics catalogue in 2015 with an album of sonatas, bagatelles, studies and dances (95194). His second recording dedicated to Bogdanovic concentrates on a single collection, the 48 Seasonal Preludes which gradually took shape over several years as a fusion of classical, jazz, and ethnic styles. Born in Belgrade in 1955, long resident in the US, the guitarist-composer Dušan Bogdanovic studied with Ginastera, among others, and has been commissioned by leading guitarists and major performing arts groups across the US. He has held teaching positions at conservatoires in Belgrade, San Francisco and presently Geneva, performed with both classical and jazz ensembles and made many albums both of his own music and that of his contemporaries. Structured in four sets of twelve, one set for each season, the 48 Seasonal Preludes explore a middle ground between improvisation and composition. The preludes influenced by blues include the Autumn Prelude No.4, written in memory of the guitarist Roland Dyens, and Winter Prelude No.9, after Charlie Mingus’s Goodbye Pork Pie Hat. Autumn Preludes No.3 and No.9 are in a fusion style reminiscent of Weather Report.

Between 1953 and 1967, Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895–1968) wrote 53 works for various instrumental ensembles that were collected together as Opus 170 and given the title Greeting Cards. Castelnuovo-Tedesco described them as ‘alphabetic pieces’: he derived their musical themes derived from ascending and descending chromatic scales, in which each note is combined with a letter of the alphabet. On this new album, Cristiano Porqueddu plays the 21 Greeting Cards composed for the guitar. They are small, unexpected homages that Castelnuovo-Tedesco liked to give his friends, to musicians who played his works, to his pupils and occasionally also to people who were not musicians. He later declared them to be minor works, but each of them is filled with affection, regardless of the professional status of the subject. In this imaginary gallery there are thus portrayals of legendary musicians such as Jascha Heifetz and Andrés Segovia alongside several of his students, including André Previn, Christopher Parkening and Eugene Robin Escovado. Castelnuovo-Tedesco made each Greeting Card a vivid portrait of the dedicatee, usually by combining rhythms and atmospheres that reflected nationality, as with the Tonadilla sul nome di Andrés Segovia or the Canción venezolana sul nome di Alirio Díaz. However, there are also more abstract references, such as the Rondel on the name of Siegfried Behrend (No.6) or evocations generated by the name itself: the Fantasia sul nome di Henry e Ronald Purcell (No.38), for instance, or the Volo d’Angeli sul nome di Angelo Gilardino (No.47). What they all have in common is a depth of feeling that transcends their superficial status as ‘occasional’ pieces.

REVIEW:

The Piano Quintets, opp. 70 and 76, are substantial and full bodied dramatic works in classical style.

George Onslow’s grandfather was the first Earl of Onslow. Onslow’s father had been forced to leave England after a family scandal, continuing his life as a nobleman in France. George was born there and grew up in the magnificent castle of Chalendrat in Clermont-Ferrand, where he followed his father as lord of the manor. At the age of 22 he discovered the operas of Mehul and decided then that music was his vocation.

Onslow’s musical style was very different from that of his colleagues and contemporaries. With his strict classical style, he was unique in Paris, concentrating on instrumental works, primarily chamber music. Schumann described Onslow’s quartets as worthy successors to those by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. This recording combines two Piano Quintets, the opus 70 and 76, substantial and full bodied dramatic works in classical style.

Founded 1999, the Nepomok Fortepiano Quintet play on original instruments, the piano an exceptionally fine period instrument from the famous Edwin Beunk collection.

Each piece on this album, titled Undine, takes inspiration from fairy tales, myths and poems. These works perfectly represent the hidden symbolism and fervent romanticism of this period, and the aura of magic and allure they emanate is undeniable. Alongside the more well-known pieces by Debussy, Reinecke and Mouquet, Undine features a piece by the almost forgotten composer Albert Doyen (1882–1935), whose music blends perfectly into the context of this poetic journey. Reinecke is largely known for his flute music, which spans the 19th century, although his music still reveals the influence of the first German Romantics. Reinecke was inspired to write Undine Sonata after reading Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué’s eponymous fairy tale, which suited the German Romantics’ penchant for the supernatural. The fairy tale describes the water-nymph Undine’s search for earthly love, and each of the four movements evokes a precise moment in the story.

Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune, inspired by symbolist poet Stéphane Mallarmé’s L’Après-midi d’un faune, was written for full orchestra. Enraptured by the intensely sensual atmosphere of Mallarmé’s poetry, Debussy’s interpretation overflows with passion and exuberance. In this piece Debussy shows how the expressions of the soul can be transformed into sounds and beauty, offering glimpses of wonderment as well as myriad splashes of color. Inspired by the Debussian style, Albert Doyen wrote five Poèmes grecs. The use of whole-tone harmonies and the attention to fleeting, subtle sonorities are reminiscent of Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-midi. However, following the publication of Poèmes Grecs, the young composer fell into complete obscurity. Also influenced by Greek mythology is Mouquet’s best-loved work, La Flûte de Pan. Mouquet’s sonata presents three tableaux of the Greek god Pan: Pan and the shepherds, Pan and the birds, and Pan and the nymphs.

Born in 1961, the Italian composer Raffaelle Bellafronte has produced a wide-ranging body of work in a modern tonal idiom. Previous albums of concertos, guitar music and chamber works paint a portrait of a lively mind and a personal voice embracing large dramatic gestures and lyric reflection, each as quintessentially ‘Italian’ in their expression as the other. The set of 12 Preludes opens with a magnificently imposing evocation of stillness, colored by the kind of bittersweet harmonies to be found in Bartok and the sense of musical space associated with Messiaen, building a surprisingly complete soundworld within the brief space of three minutes. The remaining preludes are no less ingenious in their economy of mood and gesture. Melancholy and frenzy alternate; glittering and asymmetrical rhythms stand in stark opposition to slow ostinato figurations; dense contrapuntal writing is cast against terse homophony.

Bellafronte trained as a pianist himself, and he composes for the full spectrum of the instrument’s heroic and sensual possibilities. There is a satisfying crunch to the harmonies and immediately appreciable breadth of vision to the opening paragraphs of the Sonata Prima Désaccord (2006),where contrapuntal and propulsive ostinato writing combine to pull the listener through a compelling narrative which feels longer than its 12-minute duration. From three years later, the Second Sonata experiments with a Haydnesque binary form of two quick movements – a nervous, lopsided march followed by a frustrated would-be fugue with a brutal and macabre conclusion. The Third Sonata (2014) is the most substantial piece here in both duration and ambition, launched with a momentum worthy of Bartók or Alkan. The quick-slow-quick form is superficially conventional, but it encloses a wealth of surprising excursions which challenge tonal stability and once more pitch the listener into a pianistic tumult.

With a catalogue of acclaimed albums for Brilliant Classics stretching well into double figures, the Dutch recorder virtuoso Erik Bosgraaf goes back to Bach for his latest release, with an album of arrangements as imaginatively conceived and as stylishly executed as Volume 1 (94296), released in 2011, which won glowing reviews from the international music press. Bach wrote as inventively and idiomatically for the recorder throughout his career as he did for every other instrument at his disposal, but he left no concertos in which the instrument takes the spotlight.

Thus Bosgraaf and his colleagues have attempted to answer the question, what might Bach have done, or could he have done, if he had written concertos for the recorder? They have looked for inspiration to the cantatas, and not only those where Bach composed memorable recorder parts such as the Actus Tragicus. For example, the album’s opening G major concerto is compiled from a tenor aria of dazzling runs in BWV74, followed by the sorrowful opening Sinfonia of BWV12 (in which the oboe originally takes the starring role), and then another tenor aria from BWV81 which graphically illustrates the foaming waves of a stormy sea. In both aria transcriptions, Bosgraaf’s recorder takes over the vocal line, and paints vivid sound pictures with his remarkable palette of tone colors. A second concerto in D major draws its music from similar sources, followed by a Partita which the Dutch musicologist has arranged from movements of the Fifth French Suite. A further concerto is supplied by a relatively ‘straight’ transcription of the familiar (but sublime) A minor Concerto for violin, BWV1041.

Born in 1946, Vladimir Martynov is one of several composers from the former USSR whose music taps into a vein of perpetual memory and farewell. Literally so in the case of Der Abschied, an eight-movement cycle for small ensemble which stands on the threshold like a guest at a gathering of friends, unable or unwilling to shut the door behind them and venture out alone. One of Martynov’s most distinguished contemporaries was the Ukrainian composer Valentin Silvestrov, who talked of a ‘genetic aural well’ for Russian music which, like Orthodox prayer, cannot be learnt as a text, but which exists beyond any text. Silvestrov explicitly recognized his own output as ‘meta-music’ or even ‘post-music’, and the same could be said of many pieces in Martynov’s output. Tiny motifs and gestures are layered and expanded across a meditative space in a distinctively Russian form of Minimalism that bears certain similarities with the better-known outputs of Pärt and Schnittke but pursues a consciously more austere path: both the Requiem and Stabat mater are imbued with the timeless qualities of chant and ancient melisma. Martynov’s music began to attract a certain cult following in the West during the 1990s with performances and recordings made principally by the violinist Gidon Kremer and his former partner, Tatiana Grindenko. As both a violinist and conductor, Grindenko has continued to keep Martynov’s flame burning, and she leads most of the performances here, which were made mostly in Moscow over the course of several years and in several cases receive here their first international release.