In their last recording project Handel Tribute, L'Apothéose pays homage to the great composer by performing six chamber music top pieces chosen from his op. 2, op. 5 and solo instrument with basso continuo repertoire. Mozart is reputed to have said of G. F. Händel (1685-1759): Handel understands affect better than any of us. When he chooses, he strikes like a thunderbolt. L'Apothéose is considered as one of the reference groups in the historical interpretation in Spain. In recent years the ensemble has won 12 national and international awards including the First Prize at the 2019 York Early Music International Young Artists Competition (United Kingdom), First Prize at the Göttingen Händel Competition 2017 (Germany), Second Prize at the prestigious International Van Wassenaer Competition 2018 within the Oude Muziek Festival in Utrecht (Netherlands) and the Second Prize at the Concours International de Musique Ancienne de Val de Loire 2017 (France) chaired by William Christie. All these merits have brought L'Apothéose to become "Ensemble in Residence" of the 2019/2020 season of the CNDM (Centro Nacional de Difusión Musical) in Spain and to the main international and national venues.

SEIXAS Harpsichord Sonatas, Vol. 1 ? Débora Halász (hpd) ? NAXOS 8.557459 (71:02)


Domenico Scarlatti, mestre du capella to the Infanta Maria Barbara, accompanied his pupil when she moved temporarily to Lisbon in 1723. While there, the Portuguese Infanta Don Antonio supposedly sent a promising young composer, Carlos de Seixas, to study with Scarlatti, who was 19 years his senior. The story goes that the latter reported back to Don Antonio, stating Seixas was one of the best musicians he had ever heard, and scarcely in need of further instruction.


It?s a nice tale, and possibly even true. I for one would have liked to witness a first meeting between two such highly talented composers whose keyboard work reflects considerable similarities, despite their differences of age and upbringing. The issue of influence and the direction it ran has never been settled, and is likely never to be, given that Seixas died young, and his original manuscripts perished during the Lisbon Earthquake of 1755. Out of some 700 ?keyboard toccatas? he is known to have composed, roughly 95 survive, of which 80 were collected, edited, and published by the late Macario Santiago Kastner. Although it?s never made clear in the liner notes to this release, presumably that edition is the one used by Débora Halász in what has been announced as a complete traversal. This leaves approximately 15 pieces unaccounted for, if my arithmetical skills are still functioning. Kastner presumably found them of dubious authenticity, or they appeared after his death. I?d personally like to hear them regardless, whether authentic or not, as there is an inordinate amount of formerly attributed music that is quite good and never gets recorded. Not that I?m about to turn up my nose at any attempt to issue multiple volumes of Seixas, whose treatment thus far on CD has been sporadic at best.


The last release of Seixas that I reviewed in these pages appeared roughly a year ago, and featured Christian Brembeck (Musicaphon M 55867). There?s little to choose, technically speaking, between Brembeck and Halász. Both have fingers to spare, and easily manage the more virtuosic pieces without any loss of flow or control. Sound quality on both albums, too, is excellent, and to make matters more confusing, the harpsichordists adapt similar, judiciously chosen tempos in the few works they both perform.


However, there are significant differences between the two, and unfortunately they don?t make choosing a single disc any easier. Halász, for one, employs grace notes with frequency and usually in a way that seems both natural and appropriate to the music. She is willing to stretch the beat a bit even in rhythmically driven passages, though, when it can have a detrimental result. As an example, part of the powerful effect of the Sonata No. 50 in G Minor derives from its headlong impetus and strong first beat. This is impeded when the beat in question is lengthened and weakened, as Halász routinely does. When the harpsichordist resorts to this, he/she invariably draws attention to the strategy, interfering with our enjoyment of the music.


Brembeck is more straightforward. His beat is firm, and when he uses ornamentation it appears within existing rhythms. He also offers a pair of instruments, a rich sounding modern model based on a 1746 Blanchet, and a sweeter one that imitates characteristics of Merzdorf harpsichords of the early 1700s. Halász offers one harpsichord, a copy of a 1734 Haas, though on evidence of this album, it has a pair of manuals that are used with discretion.


But on the aforementioned Sonata No. 50, Brembeck only repeats the first section, and gives the second section a single performance. This he does more often than not, whereas Halász plays both sections twice?relatively standard practice today. In the Sonata No. 10 in C Major, the second section is of appreciable length, and the difference between the two recorded versions is, as well: 13:06 for Halász, 8:13 for Brembeck. The shape of the result is substantially different, depending upon which version you hear.


This puts a different complexion upon matters, and inclines me slightly towards Halász?who also holds the trump card in the form of a complete, forthcoming recorded edition. But you really can?t go wrong with either of these two releases that, in their differing approaches to this music, offer a selection of fine music discerningly performed.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Gilbert Rowland is one of Europe's most senior and accomplished exponents of the harpsichord. Following his critically acclaimed 6-album series of the Harpischord Suites of Handel for Divine Art, he moved to the Athene imprint specializing now in baroque music and 'period' instruments for his well received album of Suites by Johann Mattheson. This 2-album set is the first volume in a projected complete survey of the Harpsichord Suites by Johann Jakob Froberger, whose organ and harpsichord music is individual in nature and ground breaking - he was one of the first composers to settle the 'dance-movement' style of Suite taken up by Couperin, Bach, and Handel among many others. There are 12 Suites in this collection. Gilbert Rowland plays a 2 manual French style harpsichord made by Andrew Wooderson after an instrument by Goemans (Paris, 1750).

The term used to describe the epoch in which the works brought together on this album were composed is a matter of dispute. Did it come before the period of Viennese classicism, which means that it represents "pre-Classicism?" Or is it part of this period, that is, "Early Classicism?" The Austrian musicologist Rudolf Flotzinger came up with a pithy formulation for this phase of music history, terming it "the epoch between the epochs," which means that it is no longer Baroque and not yet Classicism. During this period, in the middle of the eighteenth century and in the age of Empress Maria Theresa, the genres of instrumental ensemble music continuing even today to dominate the concert repertoire were developed - including the "clavier concerto," which was performed in equal measure on the organ, on the harpsichord, and later on the pianoforte. The designation "clavier" current at that time merely generally referred to an instrument with claves (keys). A collection of clavier concertos extant in the Studies Library in Ptuj (Pettau), Slovenia, preserves the compositions recorded here in manuscript form. The harpsichordist Michael Hell, along with the Neue Hofkapelle Graz, led by him and Lucia Froihofer, performs these exciting works. Two highly outstanding instruments were available to Michael Hell for this recording: the harpsichord built by Johann Leydecker in Vienna in 1755, now freshly restored, and it's copy built by Martin Pühringer in 2017. These instruments enable listeners to become acquainted with two instruments forming a perfect match for this repertoire: on an extremely well-preserved original instrument and on a copy that in it's way is tonally just as suitable - after all, even during the time of it's composition the music was performed on new instruments. The Ptuj collection shows how fragile and incomplete our knowledge of the musical practice from "the epoch between the epochs" really is. The transmitted manuscripts, above all the extant concertos by Wagenseil, document the variety of performance options, broad compositional palette, and widespread dissemination of music for keyboard instruments.

This release of soloistic sonatas for bassoon represents only a small part of the Italian pre-Classical repertoire. It is music that many performers today are still quite unfamiliar with and much has yet to be discovered from both a musicological as well as performing standpoint. With this collection, MVC hopes to have contributeed to bringing to light a production that is by no means secondary from a qualitative point of view and which is of fundamental importance for it's role in connecting to the late Baroque with the mature Classical style.

Georg Anton Benda (1722–1795), a member of a talented musical family, belonged to that largely lost generation of pre-Mozartian Classicists who started out as post-Bach Baroquists. Of this group, only C. P. E. Bach has achieved true celebrity, and that was a long time coming. The Benda name does pop up with some regularity and is familiar to those with a special interest in the period, but these harpsichord concertos by Georg Benda aren’t just for specialized tastes; if you like C. P. E. Bach, you’ll enjoy these works, too. They share the minor-key urgency of C. P. E. Bach and the Mannheim composers, and while they follow the structural patterns that were becoming standard in the 1770s and 1780s, they avoid predictability.


More than half the musicians in the group La Stagione Frankfurt also belong to Camerata Köln; the early-music scene in Germany seems as incestuous as that in London. At any rate, you’ll know what to expect from such performers: clean articulation (one of the great virtues of harpsichordist Sabine Bauer), lively rhythmic sense, and a feeling of real commitment to the music at hand. The lovely multichannel DSD recording has the harpsichord up close, with the strings not far behind, and just enough air around the players and behind the listener to make sure nothing feels claustrophobic. This is an enjoyable disc in every respect.


FANFARE: James Reel
This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

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

Rediscover the music of brilliant Italian keyboard virtuosos whose works are rarely heard today. Songs, toccatas, ricercars, fugues, and dances come together in a richly woven program that captures the excitement of an era when instrumental music was just beginning to find it's own voice. Rooted in the expressive world of vocal madrigals yet pushing toward new independence, this repertoire reflects a moment of bold musical innovation. With charisma and imagination, Corina Marti brings these works to life, inviting listeners into intimate, personal moments at the keyboard-moments of reflection and creative freedom once enjoyed by court musicians behind the walls of Renaissance palaces.

A first-ever complete recording for collections of Baroque chamber music which capture the elegance, formality, and lively culture of London in the 1710s. London in the early 18th century was a city animated by music: Italian opera dominated the newly built theatres, French-style dances brought refinement to the salons, and the English cathedral tradition had fully adapted to a native style of text setting. It was from within this vibrant soundscape that William Babell (c. 1690-1723) emerged-an English musician of remarkable versatility, whose keyboard brilliance and expressive chamber works captured the spirit of his place and time. Babell's first teacher was his father, a bassoonist in the orchestra of the Drury Lane Theatre. He rapidly followed in his father's footsteps, playing in the private band of King George I, and was appointed organist of All Hallows, Bread Street, a position he held until his untimely death. His reputation as a keyboard virtuoso was widespread; Johann Mattheson extolled his organ playing as even superior to Handel's. As for his own music, it's principal surviving remnants are these two collections of sonatas dating from 1716 and 1720. They were conceived for oboe or violin with continuo; the musicians of Cappella Musicale Enrico Stuart have taken a fairly liberal approach, by sharing the melody part in the different sonatas between violin, flute, and oboe, which are supported by a rich continuo group of bassoon, cello, and harpsichord or organ. Not the least attractive aspect of this solution is it's variety across the sequence of 24 sonatas. The influence of Arcangelo Corelli-the Roman violinist-composer whose Op. 5 sonatas (published in 1700) shaped much of 18th-century chamber style across Europe-is evident in Babell's approach. Babell's sonata structure-especially the slow-fast alternation, proportions of movements, and rhythmic gesture-bears the stamp of this Corellian model, though with English lightness and a flair for ornamentation. This arrangement not only showcases the instrumental diversity at the heart of the two volumes of sonatas, but also evokes the experience of an 18th-century London salon, where violin, oboe, and flute might seamlessly succeed one another in an evening of chamber music.

The present album constitutes a juxtaposition of works of two musical families: the greatest one, without which it would be hard to imagine the history of modern music - the Bach family - and the Podbielski family, of Polish origin, who have almost been completely forgotten and pushed to the margin of consciousness. Four unique personalities emerge from this compilation - each immersed in their own time and operating with their individual expression style. The common denominator of the works presented on the album is a unique instrument, considered to be perfect in the times of Johann Sebastian Bach - the viola da gamba. The listener will hear it together with the harpsichord in the interpretation of a marriage of musicians specializing in Early Music performance - Krzysztof and Anna Firlus.

Lively, tonally varied performances … a very attractive sound.

This is volume two of the Naxos reissue of Lars Ulrik Mortensen’s Buxtehude series. It previously appeared on Dacapo. This particular volume was Dacapo 8.224117.

Mortensen is a fine musician, whose approach to Buxtehude is vivacious and dignified in equal proportions. His Buxtehude has both passion and seriousness - but not solemnity - of mind. Mortensen makes sparkling use of the resources of his instrument, a copy by Thomas Mandrup-Poulsen of an original by Ruckers. Though the notes to this present CD give no further details, it sounds like the beautifully-toned instrument, made in 1984, which Mortensen played on some of his Bach recordings (CPO 999 989-2) and Froberger (Kontrapunkt 32040). It sings delightfully – at least it does when played by Mortensen! The use of mean-tone tuning will surely disturb very few modern listeners.

The theme of the set of variations on More Palatino (not More Palantino as printed on the back cover) is a student drinking song, though the rather stately form in which Buxtehude presents it is not especially redolent of the tavern. Still, it is an attractive and melodically various set, Mortensen’s varying use of registration producing some charming effects and some insistently dancing rhythms. The same is true of a second set of variations played here, those on Courant Zimble – a title we might translate as ‘Simple Courante’, and aptly so, since it is an uncomplicated piece which invites – and gets – some direct and appealing variations from Buxtehude. Mortensen resists the temptation to over-inflate these or make any excessive claims for them.

Each of the two Suites is made up four movements, in the order Allemande-Courante-Sarabande-Gigue. In each work the allemande is the most substantial movement, considerably longer than any of the other three movements. The allemandes also tend to have a greater musical gravity, that which opens Bux WV 242 being particularly grand in manner and phrasing; the courantes have, by way of contrast, a rippling vitality, that in Bux WV 25 being full of pleasant twists and turns. Buxtehude’s sarabandes have a graceful simplicity about them, a quality heard to perfection in Mortensen’s performances of the two in these suites, especially that in the E minor suite, where the registration is beautifully judged and employed. The gigues of the two suites make more much use of counterpoint, especially in comparison to the simpler lines of the sarabandes which precede them. But these are by no means academic fugues and in both suites the final movements very forcefully remember the dance origins of the gigue.

All of the shorter pieces in this programme have their genuine attractions and all are well characterised by Mortensen. The chorale ‘Nun lob, mein Seel, den Herren’ is more often heard on the organ, although it makes no requirements that the harpsichord can’t fulfil – as Mortensen persuasively demonstrates. Indeed there is a particular sprightliness to this reading that is distinct from anything that can be achieved on the baroque organ and which offers an alternative, equally valid, view of the music. Bux WV 170, 171 and 174 are pieces which survive amongst the manuscripts of Buxtehude’s organ music but which, again, are eminently playable on the harpsichord. The fugal writing here is more ‘correct’ than in the gigues of the suites, but don’t let that make you imagine that these are unduly staid pieces. Here they have the same vivacity which characterises this programme as a whole and they are played with the same loving care for the aptness of instrumental sound and tone.

Without wanting to claim Mortensen’s as the ‘best’ recordings of Buxtehude’s harpsichord works – if one had to pick I suppose the vote might go to Ton Koopman – there is not the slightest reason to feel in any way dissatisfied with this fine recital. If you don’t know Buxtehude’s writing for harpsichord – this is an excellent value-for-money place to start; if you are already an aficionado of this repertoire you will surely be just as keen to add this to your collection.

-- Glyn Pursglove, MusicWeb International

BACH Concertos for Solo Harpsichord: BWV 972-93, 975-76, 978, 980 (after Vivaldi); 974 (after A. Marcello); 979 (after Torrelli); 981 (after B. Marcello); 977, 983, 986, 985 (after Telemann); 982, 984, 987 (after Ernst). Prelude and Fugue in a, BWV 894 • Elizabeth Farr (hpd) • NAXOS 8572006-07 (2 CDs: 150:35)


This recording hit me like a ton of bricks in three ways. First, there is the music itself, not actually by J.S. Bach but rather transcriptions he made for harpsichord of concertos by Vivaldi, Torelli, Alessandro and Benedetto Marcello, Johann Ernst, Telemann, and unknown composers, in addition to his own Prelude and Fugue in A Minor. Second, there is the extraordinarily high quality of Elizabeth Farr’s performances, dramatic, nuanced, and extraordinarily colorful. And third, there is the sound of the instrument, a rare Baroque-era harpsichord with a 16’ set of strings as well as damper and sustain pedals. When this CD first started pouring out of my speakers, I thought I was listening to Wanda Landowska in digital stereo. It turns out that such fabulous beasts did exist, after all, in the Baroque era, in fact from as far back as the 16th century. Well, well, well. It turns out that Landowska, who has been lambasted for more than half a century for her “grotesque,” “gargantuan-sounding” instruments, was on the right track after all. Not having an authentic instrument to play, she simply had Pleyel create one for her. Granted, it had a grand piano frame because she was a touring musician and even a newly minted harpsichord with 16’ strings would have gotten pummeled on trains, but the sound was not that far removed from this.


Farr is also an interesting annotator. In order to save space I refer you to her liner notes, which explain why Bach transcribed 22 concertos by primarily Italian composers for harpsichord (six of them are for two harpsichords). The key to the project was young Prince Johann Ernst, the nephew of Duke Wilhelm, who in fact composed three of the concertos transcribed here. The young prince, an outstanding musician, wanted them to play on his instrument. Bach was willing to oblige for one particular reason: By writing out these concertos he could study their composing methods, and apply what he learned to his own “Italianate” music.


Farr’s playing is in the style of Leonhardt and Kipnis, using a great deal of rubato—some of it obvious, some of it quite subtle—to break up the very regular rhythms. I love this style. It is antithetical to British harpsichordists like Trevor Pinnock (whom I also highly admire), but very much in line with the type of “hesitating” style that Bach himself later employed in so many solo harpsichord works, a style he undoubtedly picked up from his friend and older colleague Buxtehude. She also plays very dramatically—heavy chording and rich textures when emulating the full tutti of the orchestral passages, lighter and airier in slow movements and when emulating solo passages. This took me some getting used to, but I came to enjoy this approach.


Some listeners may feel cheated that only one work (the Prelude and Fugue) is actually by Bach, but as a compendium of Baroque style transcribed by a musical genius, played to perfection and stunningly recorded, this set is very highly recommended.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley