Denmark-born Nicolaus Bruhns (1665-1697) studied under Buxtehude, and eventually became his favorite and most-skilled student. After his studies, Bruhns became composer at the Danish Royal Court. Unfortunately, after his early death ended a blossoming career, many of Bruhns’ works have been lost. J. S. Bach held a deep admiration for Bruhns’ vocal works, and their influence is evident in Bach’s earliest works. This release includes Bruhns’ complete cantatas. Their “Stylus Phantasticus” shows freedom of form and expression. The four vocal soloists featured on this release are fantastic, and are joined by Harmonices Mundi and conductor Claudio Astronio, who has already released several recordings for Brilliant Classics to critical acclaim.

BUXTEHUDE Complete Harpsichord Music • Simone Stella (hpd) • BRILLIANT 94312 (4 CDs: 279:10)


Decisions, decisions. Does one go with the four-CD set here on Brilliant, played with the proper style by Simone Stella, or the competing set—issued piecemeal, as is their wont—on Naxos by Lars Ulrik Mortensen? Although this set is titled Complete Harpsichord Music, it does not include the aria “Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern,” BuxWV 223; the Prelude in G, BuxWV 162; or the Fugue in B?, BuxWV 176, which are in the Mortensen set. That’s because they were originally written for organ, so in a sense Stella is purer.


Be that as it may, there is a great deal to admire here. There’s no question that Stella has the proper Buxtehude style, which is to play with irregular meter and with the parts of both hands slightly out-of-synch much of the time, which creates a weird tension. He also dances and sparkles in several of the allemandes, particularly the one that begins the partida Auf meinen lieben Gott.


Stella is also excellent in the long sets of variations, given the deceiving titles of “arias,” in BuxWV 247 (“More Palatino”), BuxWV 246 (no title), and the more famous “La Capricciosa” (BuxWV 250), an astounding work for its time, a set of 32 variations that can rival some of Bach’s and Mozart’s in originality and complexity. I also love Stella’s daring in occasionally altering the sound of his harpsichord with the damper pedal, which makes the instrument sound very much like a lute. Of course, Mortensen is also a highly skilled harpsichordist, so in many ways I find their work complementary.


One online review of Buxtehude’s keyboard music claims that he wrote “both pedaliter and manualiter works,” but that his most famous pieces are the “praeludia and toccatas in the stylus phantasticus, which intermingles highly unpredictable free sections in virtuosic and idiomatic keyboard styles with more structured fugal sections.” How about that? I suppose this is how you write when you’re trying to impress your college professor, but I doubt whether any readers who are not professional musicians even know what a pedaliter or a manualiter is. (These terms actually refer to the organ, not the harpsichord, “manualiter” meaning works played only using the manuals and not the pedals.) I’m more interested in whether or not the music is creative, surprising, well crafted, and conveys some meaning to the listener. Buxtehude fulfills all those criteria for me, so that is why I love his pieces. Another feature of his work that I admire: There almost never seems to be even one superfluous note in anything he wrote. And yes, I can describe technically what’s going on in the music—how the notes for both hands contrast with or complement one another—without needing to break down a manualiter. I also prefer the description that one of my Fanfare colleagues gave of Buxtehude’s music when he called it “Bach in the raw.” That conveys far more to me than the stylus phantasticus in the pedaliter. How about you?


Perhaps the strongest element in Stella’s favor is the price. On ArkivMusic’s website, Brilliant is selling this boxed set for $19.99, while Mortensen’s single discs sell for $9.99 apiece. As for me, I give a very slight edge to Mortensen in performance quality, but not enough to warrant double the price. I say go for this one.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

This recording presents some of the most significant early pieces by the Cuban composer Leo Brouwer (b.1939); it also includes other works, such as Hika from 1994 and the third and fourth series of his Estudios sencillos (1981), which show clear similarities with the composer's early style. First to be composed of the works here is a Danza caracteristica from 1956. A popular song melody forms the basis for an Afro-Cuban flavored fantasy. The Fugue No.1 dates from the following year, when Brouwer was still a teenager: having outlined a theme of Baroque proportions he takes a fairly free attitude to its contrapuntal elaboration, anticipating the concise play of fantasy in the Tres Apuntes of 1959. Having soon after moved to the US, Brouwer composed the first two books of the Estudios sencillos out of financial necessity, but they have proved among his most enduring and successful works, drawing energy not only from his Cuban heritage but the didactic economy of the Mikrokosmos by Bartók. Almost all of the third and fourth books from the series date from 1981; although Brouwer had both moved back to Cuba by then as well as moved on in his own style towards a more neo-romantic language, he rediscovered the lively economy of thought which runs through the earlier studies, combining it with both neoclassical harmonies and even chance procedures to produce among the most significant collections of guitar studies from the second half of the last century. ‘These short pieces reflect all of Brouwer’s creative genius,’ says Frédéric Zigante, ‘and I have always been fond of them, first as a young student of guitar and later as a guitar teacher. To me, they are an ideal method for weaning young guitarists from the didactic repertory of the 19th century.’

The “Songs from the Chinese”, a cycle of six songs on poems translated from the original Chinese by Arthur Waley (1889–1966), were written in 1957 and premiered the following year by the duo of Pears and Bream. By the late 50s Bream was a lutenist and guitarist of great renown and had accompanied Pears in works by Dowland and other early music of the British Isles, concerts that inspired Britten to write for the duo some music of his own. His cycle naturally invited comparison with another great set of songs from the Chinese, Mahler’s “Das Lied von der Erde”, and the reception at the time was favourable: “as a whole, they make a statement about life (and particularly the transience of youth and beauty) as poignant and personal as Mahler’s” (critic Jeremy Noble in Tempo,1959). The sixth instalment of Britten’s lifelong project of folksong arrangements was published in November of 1961 in a second wave along with volumes four and five, which followed some 12 years after the first three volumes were issued in the 1940s. Volume Six contains six English folksongs and is the only one of the sets that he scored for voice and guitar. These folksong arrangements are as much a product of Britten’s admiration for Bream as are the “Songs from the Chinese”. In fact, when Pears and Bream premiered Britten’s song cycle at the Aldeburgh Festival (17 June 1958), they performed three of these folksongs on the same concert. Britten wrote the guitar solo “Nocturnal” after John Dowland in 1963 for Bream, who premiered it the following year (12 June 1964). The nine movements of the work are a “variations & theme”, progressing opposite to the usual order of a theme and variations. The model, “Come, Heavy Sleep” from the First Book of Songs by John Dowland (1563–1626), is only revealed at the end, with the variations leading up to it hinting at the song with treatments of various thematic fragments. Marcello Nardis and Duilio Meucci complete this album with three additional works by Dowland including the original “Come, Heavy Sleep” on which Britten based his Nocturnal, another well-known song, “Flow my tears”, and the lute solo “A Dream”.

It was probably Peter Pears, Britten’s partner in music and life, who drew the composer’s attention to the rich heritage of English folksong and its attractions, as a way to introduce texture, variety and a lighter tone to their song recitals together during the 1940s. According to the tenor, Britten ‘wanted to recreate these melodies with their texts for concert performance, to make them art-songs … he therefore takes the tune as if he had written it himself and thinks himself back as to how he would turn it into a song.’ Thus the piano parts are no mere accompaniments but highly wrought, deftly illustrative comments on the texts and stories of love and country life. In cases such as The Foggy, Foggy Dew and O Waly, Waly, Britten’s arrangements have become better known than any ‘original’ version; they have assumed the identity of the song in the popular imagination, and the distinctive voice of Pears singing them imprinted itself on the imaginations of countless music-lovers in the second half of the last century. However, the songs retain their place in the concert repertoire of many young singers, often as more than encore material, and they admit a rich variety of interpretative approaches. The tenor Mark Milhofer has previously taken part in Brilliant Classics surveys of the complete song output of Alban Berg (95549) and Francesco Tosti (Vol.1 – 95201), with the Berg attracting particularly enthusiastic praise: ‘Totally absorbing… convincingly performed from the first note to the last. Each performer brings sincerity and enthusiasm to this varied repertoire. The recording is ideal’ (MusicWeb International).

Composing came easily to Joseph Bodin de Boismortier (1689–1755). Having arrived in Paris in 1724, he embarked on writing what would become a vast catalogue of instrumental music focused on the flute (or recorder), which so tickled the palates of his bourgeois and aristocratic audiences and amateur performers, and of which he was himself a considerable practitioner. In particular the works for paired flutes reveal a fluency of style that speaks eloquently for Boismortier’s fluency as a composer. The six duets collected here are first and foremost music to enjoy, both in the playing and the listening. Boismortier’s duets reflect the rhetorical principle of elegant and refined conversation, a musical translation of intimate dialogue between two equals, neither of which is ever reduced to the role of mere accompaniment. The prevailing rule is imitation or agreement: when a theme is stated by one player it is taken over by the other and developed, never challenged or opposed. Even the three duets in his first published collection, Op.1, provide ample proof of Boismortier’s lively creative spirit as well as his skill in counterpoint, designed to attract professional players keen to show off their technical and expressive expertise. The movement titles within each duet may encapsulate French dance forms – Gavotte, Allemande, Courante and so on – but Boismortier was far too cultivated and cosmopolitan a musician not to absorb influences from farther afield. His contrapuntal style makes him the French equivalent of Telemann, and the busy passagework recall the violin writing of Italian Baroque masters such as Corelli and Geminiani.

Pergolesi is the author of the most famously affecting setting of the 12th-century hymn by Jacopone di Todi in which Mary is depicted at the foot of the cross, mourning the death of her son in graphically detailed poetry which has been a gift to musicians ever since. In fact Brilliant Classics has collected up all the versions of Stabat mater by composers of any renown from the last 600 years and issued them in a brand-new all-inclusive release. Within that release is a new recording of the Stabat mater by Antonio Maria Bononcini, who died just a decade before Pergolesi. Their settings are on a roughly similar scale, though Bononcini’s is slightly grander, using four singers to Pergolesi’s two, and dividing the text into even more sections. Bononcini himself should not be confused with his father Giovanni Maria (composer and violinist) or indeed his brother Giovanni, all three of them outstanding composers of the Modenese school. Antonio made his name in Vienna, where he was appointed composer to the court of Emperor Joseph I in 1710, and one may hear why from the restrained pathos of this Stabat mater, with its slowly-modulating grand choruses of great tension and its arias which suspend time with contemplation of a particular aspect of Christ’s agony on the Cross. The Stabat mater is complemented here by a much less-familiar sacred cantata, Dio e la vergine: an anonymous six-movement text in which Mary stands before her Lord and proclaims her love for him, and He for her; a surprisingly common trope of 18th-century oratorios where God himself was given a part. The only other recording of this cantata is considerably older in style; this new one is made by the stylish Alessandro Stradella Consort, who produced for Brilliant the well-received recording of an oratorio by Alessandro Scarlatti, San Filippo Neri (BC94037).

Born in a town on the shore of Lake Garda, Marco Bossi has a foothold on the catalogue thanks to his organ music: he was born into a family of organists and studied and worked in northern Italian cities including Bologna and Milan before taking up a post as teacher of harmony and organ at the conservatoire in Naples. He made contributions to the Italian operatic traditions, which have largely been forgotten, but organists still play his sonatas and dramatic evocations of the Passion and the Transfiguration of Christ. With Giuseppe Martucci and Giovanni Sgambati, Bossi also led a revival of thenative tradition of chamber music, which had been neglected in Italy after the string quartets of Donizetti. This new recording of his piano trios joins Brilliant Classics albums of piano trios and string quartets of Martucci and string quartets and piano quartets of Sgambati. Both works are generously proportioned four-movement works in Classical form, the first of them dedicated to Martucci. The slow movements are especially novel: the Larghetto of the first is designated a dialogue, which unfolds in long, unwinding melodies; the Adagio of the Second is overtly elegiac in mood, though it is dedicated to German musician Georg Goehler, who outlived Bossi for almost 30 years; the career of the Italian musician came to a sudden and tragic end with his death by drowning in the mid-Atlantic, returning to Europe in February 1925 from a visit to New York. This album forms an engaging introduction to the impassioned idiom, too little known, of a significant figure in fin-de-siècle Italian music.

The First Symphony is notable for the rhythmic interest of the first movement and the lively second movement, which shows the influence of Mendelssohn, with the third movement full of heartfelt romanticism- a fitting contrast to the resplendent final movement.

Among the most popular of pianistic genres now, boasting virtuoso showpieces from Bach to Prokofiev, the keyboard toccata first appeared in print in 1591, within this collection of work by Sperindio Bertoldo. Sadly the collection only appeared posthumously, for Bertoldo died around 1570, at the age of 40 or so, at the height of an illustrious if eventful career. He had become organist of Padua Cathedral in his early 20s, but in 1567 he was suspended for insubordination. Having evidently shown appropriate contrition, he was reinstated, and remained in post until his death, having at that stage published only books of madrigals. Yet his organ works are equally worthy of revival, anticipating the florid brilliance and spatial effects of the Venetian masters such as the Gabrielis. Another volume published in 1591 was dedicated to Canzoni francese: instrumental versions of French songs by Crecquillon, Janequin and Clemens non Papa and these are elaborately decorated with imitation and ornamentation like a side-chapel to a Rococo church. Scarcely better known is the scant output of Cesare Borgo, who was born and died in Milan and worked there as an organist-friar, rising to become organist for the then-newly built instrument at Milan Cathedral. Published in Venice in 1599, this collection of canzone is also inflected with fashionable French-style harmonies though given the titles of vernacular Italian songs whose origins are now mostly lost. The attraction of Borgo’s canzone lies in their often gentle, reflective explorations of the melodic material within a sturdy ABA structure. They are played on this new recording on the organ installed by Vincenzo Colombi in 1523 at the Chiesa del Santissimo Corpo di Cristo in Valvasone in the province of Pordenone.

Beethoven wrote sympathetically for the cello throughout his career, from the ardent, lyrical voice of the Op.1 piano trios onwards, and he rarely subjugated the instrument to its basso continuo role still prevalent in the works of Mozart and Haydn. He never contemplated a cello concerto, but his five sonatas, plus sets of crowd-pleasing variations on popular themes by Handel and Mozart, have attracted the great cellists of every era. However, the record catalogue boasts comparatively few period-instrument accounts, made according to the performing principles and bowing of Beethoven’s day, and so this new Brilliant Classics set promises a new and refreshing perspective on some perennially audacious masterpieces. The Op.5 Sonatas are intended to astound as well as to innovate. For the first time in the history of the cello repertoire, both instruments were invested with equal importance. The piano writing is scarcely less bold and quick-thinking, requiring both musicians to turn on a sixpence from soloist to accompanist and back again, emulating the more equal dialogue of a string quartet. Formal novelty is also in evidence, in the expanded slow introductions and then in the four-movement structures of Op.69 and Op.102 No.1. In every way the last sonatas belong to Beethoven’s late period: posing questions to listeners as well as performers with every bar, transcending the limits of the instruments to sing and shout, contemplate and argue. The partnership of Mario Testori and Costantino Mastroprimiano is an experienced one, with a well-received Brilliant Classics album (95023) of late-Classical sonatas by Hummel, Moscheles and Ries to its credit. The pianist also contributes an enlightening booklet essay to this valuable contribution to the Beethoven anniversary year.

The journey towards simplicity so comprehensively charted by Jeroen van Veen’s discography over the past decade begins chronologically with the unique world of Erik Satie. In the quietly unique music of this ever-underrated pioneer lies the seeds of so much that was to come to fruition in the latter half of the last turbulent century. Satie belonged neither to the Impressionists nor the Modernists nor any other school, and it took John Cage and the New York modernists of the 1950s to rediscover him as more than a provocateur or a purveyor of salon trifles. Yet, at much the same time on the other side of the Iron Curtain, Soviet-era composers were starting to chafe against both the tenets of serialism and also the requirements of the State for neo-Romantic hymns to labour and triumph. Arvo Pärt was reaching for the same destination as the American triumvirate of Adams, Glass and Reich, only from the other end of the stylistic spectrum. The English critic and composer Michael Nyman first used the term ‘Minimalism’ in print, and it stuck. The last 40 years have witnessed an explosion of popularity and wider interest in a world of music that transcends the four-bar sequences and relentless rhythms of pop, while forsaking the ivory tower of modernism, to offer music that speaks to listeners in search of quiet and stillness, music to meditate by as well as music to stir the blood. And for the last 15 years Jeroen van Veen has recorded much of it in his home studio in the Netherlands, as well as achieving great popular success with performances much farther afield. His recordings have been acclaimed for their nuances of touch as well as their technical command of music demanding formidable reserves of precision and patience.

It would not be an overstatement to declare that Ludwig van Beethoven stands as one of the most significant figures in Western civilisation: a composer who shaped the course of music history through his mastery of rhythm, melody and harmonic exploration, pushing the boundaries of form and effectively bridging the gap between Classicism and Romanticism – and yet all the while continuously professing how difficult he found composition. Detailing his complete output – from his earliest years to his last, by which time he had almost completely lost his hearing – this 85CD box reveals an extensive palette of styles and mediums, rendered all the more obvious by the box's division into different genres (starting with the symphonies and ending with the large corpus of different national folk songs).

This box is the 2017 reissue of Brilliant Classics’ acclaimed Beethoven Complete Edition, with updates including Beethovenian pianist par excellence Alfred Brendel now in the complete cycle of Piano Concertos, Alessandro Commellato on historic fortepianos in brand new recordings of the 18 sets of ‘without opus’ piano variations, Emmy Verhey in the Violin Concerto and Romances and a definitive Mass in C from Stuttgart’s Gachinger Kantorei and Bach-Collegium.

REVIEW:

I found the music for wind ensemble to be one of the highlights of the box. The Ottetto Italiano are in excellent form and I must admit to have listened to the two discs featuring them (15 and 16) over and over again. Theirs is an exuberant performance, one that fills the music with life and a sense of enjoyment.

Jean-Pierre Rampal features in the following two discs featuring all the works for flute, not only those with and without opus numbers, but in the case of the Trio in G for three flutes, those which are highly doubtful. The performances are typical Rampal and although no recording details are given, I have a feeling that these to are from the Vox stable.

The Horn Sonata fares well with Farenc Tarjáni’s original Hungaroton recording being a real winner. Whilst the disc of piano quartets is another old friend, it presents the Cummings Trio and Anthony Goldstone in the wonderful recording they made for Meridian. </span>The piano trios take up discs 23 to 27, and whilst Trio Elégiaque are new to me, I was more than impressed by their performance. Included are all the arrangements for piano trio including those of the Symphony No. 2, the String Quintet Op. 4 and the Septet, here performed in a traditional piano trio format, which is good as it differs from my other version by the Guarneri Trio where the violin is replaced by a clarinet (PRD 350011). The performance of the Trio Elégiaque is first rate and highly enjoyable and is recommendable in its own right.

Of the string sonatas, I find that Timora Rosler and Klára Würtz are a well balanced and enthusiastic pairing in the works for cello and piano. Their performance, whilst it does not challenge my favourites, is enjoyable and would be a good introduction to the music. The string trios take up discs 34 and 35, and whilst the performance of The Zurich String Trio might not be the most exciting theirs is a very pleasing listen to indeed. Theirs is a performance of great subtlety and depth, one that places the emphasis on the music rather than the performers, old style Beethoven then, but enjoyable never the less.

The Suske Quartett were completely new to me and these recordings, the majority made for Berlin Classics between 1975 and 1980 are a real eye opener, even the Rasumovsky Quartets which were recorded in 1967 and 1968 have a presence that marks them out as another of the highlights in this box. Their performance reminds me of that of the Medici String Quartet on Nimbus (NI 1785), but unlike the Medici’s, the Suske ramp up the tension and the drama in the late quartets making theirs a more desirable set, I just don’t know how this has passed me by. The recorded sound is very good, even in the Rasumovsky’s, it is solid 1970’s but less reverberant than the Medici’s from the late 1980’s. this is a recording that I would be happy to recommend as a standalone set. The lesser quartet works are also well served, as are the string quintets. In the case of the quintets the The Zurich String Trio are joined by what seem to be regular colleagues as the Zurich String Quintet; they give an equally compelling performance here as the Trio did.

Again for the piano sonatas Brilliant turn to Alfred Brendel’s early Vox recordings, a series of LP’s I grew to enjoy when I started buying records in the 1970’s. Yes, this set may lack the enlightenment of Brendel’s later Beethoven recordings, and if we are to believe the rumours, Brendel himself tried to suppress these recordings, but they still have a lot to offer. Take the Hammerklavier for instance, one of my favourite of all the sonatas and the one presented first here, I have always rated this recording, and this despite my move towards fortepiano versions, it is a wonderful rendition, one that portrays the vibrancy of youth. It is coupled with the final sonata on this disc and this is given an equally compelling performance. Indeed, Brendel excels here in the later sonatas, and after listening to all 32, I still believe that the merits of this set warrants its inclusion in this set. The same can be said of his recording of the Opp. 34, 35, 76 and 120 variations, especially the Diabelli, and of the bagatelles.

What lies between the sonatas and the Diabelli however, might come as a bit of a surprise, as the three discs (CDs 54-56) present the sets of variations without opus numbers performed on a fortepiano. Alessandro Commellato has recorded these lesser known sets of variations seemingly especially for inclusion in this complete edition, and he has done it well. They are scheduled to be released separately in early 2018, and I would recommend picking up a copy if you don’t fancy the complete edition. I enjoy his tone and that of all the instruments employed here, a variety of instruments dating from between 1788 and 1823 are used, and whilst some might find the sound of these early instruments jarring, especially against the modern piano of Brendel, the sound is more than pleasing as are the performances. The smaller piano works, including the pieces with no opus number and those for piano four hands fare well too, here we return to modern instruments again and which are given performances that are more than pleasing.

Three of the four discs of songs presented here are old friends, indeed they have pride of place on the shelf, I have always enjoyed the performance of Peter Schreier and Walter Olbertz as they have a real sense of recital, and this despite their age, they were recorded between 1968 and 1970. These Berlin Classics recordings have been the go to recordings of the songs for me for a long time now, and I imagine they will remain that way too. The third of the four discs of lieder presents the baritone Florian Prey, the son of the esteemed Beethovian Hermann Prey, and the mezzo Anna Haase with Norbert Groh in the remaining songs, their performance compliments that of Schreier well.

The final six discs of the set present the folk song arrangements and are well known to me through their original release (94925). There are many settings of British folk songs, which fed the German hunger during the period for anything Celtic. They are not the most in demand music that Beethoven ever composed, but they have a certain charm that will bring delight to all but the most hardened of listeners. The performances are excellent throughout with all singers bringing the joy in these songs to the fore.

The presentation of this set is standard for all large Brilliant Classics’ large sets, individual discs in cardboard sleeves printed with the track information placed in a flip top box.

On the whole this is a very worthwhile set, which as I said at the beginning, is more than just a way of picking up those unusual works that are new to you and probably most other people too. The Edition contains some wonderful performances.

-- MusicWeb International

“That man can do anything!” exclaimed the late, legendary recorder player and conductor Frans Brüggen when asked by Tijdschrift Oude Muziek about his young colleague Erik Bosgraaf. “He had an upcoming concert of the music of Van Eyck at the Amsterdam Amstel church and sent me an invitation. His playing was superb, so inspired and technically impeccable.” It was Brüggen’s birthday, but that didn’t stop him attending. When soon afterwards Brüggen conducted Bach’s Actus tragicus (Cantata BWV106) in the Amsterdam Concertgebouw, he invited Bosgraaf to play the first recorder part.

Erik Bosgraaf’s quick rise to fame is directly attributable to his debut on Brilliant Classics: a three-disc box devoted to Jacob van Eyck’s (1589/90–1657) “Der Fluyten Lust-hof” (The Recorder’s Garden of Delight). Released in 2007 on the 350th anniversary of the Utrecht composer’s death, the recording was made at the request of the Van Eyck scholar Thiemo Wind who said he had never before come across a recorder player with so much understanding of this virtuoso solo repertoire and such a capacity for playing it: the sprezzatura, the casual ease and spontaneity this music, originating in improvisation, demands. The set was a worldwide hit, even winning over some diehard recorder haters. Erik Bosgraaf was clearly one of the instruments greatest players. This 5-album set offers a sample of Erik Bosgraaf’s achievements in the field of baroque music, beginning with Van Eyck and embracing his milestone recordings of Bach, Handel, Vivaldi and Telemann.

REVIEWS:

The Dutch recorder player has now proven himself and is regarded internationally as the most important recorder player of the moment. He has already scored highly with recordings of Der Fluyten Lusthof by Jacob van Eyk, the recorder concertos by Bach and Vivaldi and the sonatas by Handel and Telemann. With Barock Edition the best of these records has now been summarized on a five-CD box. An inspiring collection that will transform even the biggest recorder hater into an enthusiast.

-- Klassieke Zaken

Played by specialized Early Music Groups, including L’Arte Dell’arco, Musica Amphion, Violini Capricciosi, Musica ad Rhenum, and many others.

The 17th and 18th centuries marked the era of Enlightenment, overseas exploration, unprecedented European economic expansion and a flourishing of art and culture, not to mention the birth of the greatest composers in history. From concertos to fantasias, suites to sonatas, Brilliant Classics presents a comprehensive and concise overview of this innovative and groundbreaking period in musical history, the Baroque era. The set opens with Venetian composer Tomaso Albinoni and his famous Concerti a5, in which he was the first Italian composer to use the oboe as the solo instrument in a concerto. He influenced J.S. Bach, who is fittingly the next composer to feature. Bach pioneered the Concerto Grosso form, with several soloists plus accompaniment, as opposed to just one. There is no better example of this than the famous Brandenburg Concertos, where solos are shared between a group of instruments and the various timbres of the different instruments make for varied and interesting pieces. In the first concerto, Bach employs horns, then mainly used as open-air hunting instruments, a twist on the refined concert piece performed in an elegant chamber setting. Bach also admired the work of Alessandro Marcello. Although Marcello’s work is lesser known, his music is notable for its forward-looking nature. Far from copying the styles and structures of his contemporaries, Marcello’s music is unique in its emotional impact; it’s dark and tempestuous, inflicted with a romantic streak. Passing via selected works by Purcell, Corelli and Telemann, Alessandro Stradella’s string sinfonias are found towards the end of the set. Stradella lived only to the age of 38 and yet he wrote over 300 works. He also found time to conduct a string of love affairs leading to his untimely demise at the hands of an assassin hired by a rival.