Sybrandus van Noordt and Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer are the only native Dutch composers represented on Erik Bosgraaf’s latest album, but his selection nonetheless illustrates both the high quality of musical culture in a nation without aristocratic courts, and also the central place of the recorder within that culture. Andreas Parcham, Johann Christian Schickhardt and Jean-Marie Leclair are known to have lived and worked in the Republic; Jean-Baptiste Loeillet was born in Ghent and worked in Lyon, but his recorder sonatas were all published in Amsterdam. History has been a little unkind to Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer, remembering him latterly above all as the composer of the attractive Concerti Armonici which were previously attributed to Pergolesi. That such a confusion could have arisen in the first place is testament to the originality and craftsmanship of a musician-composer who was evidently in touch with the latest Italian developments in Italian style from his home in The Hague.

The three sonatas on this album expand our understanding of van Wassanaer, and they are complemented by little-known composers with a similarly internationalist outlook such as the Danzig-born Andreas Parcham and the well-travelled Jean-Marie Leclair. The four-movement suite of lively character pieces by Fiocco is extracted from a collection originally written for harpsichord, and opens with an Allegro made famous through a violin-and-piano arrangement recorded by the likes of Menuhin and Perlman; Bosgraaf restores its original character. In the second half of the 17th century, the recorder underwent a revolutionary development which turned it into a sophisticated instrument. Erik Bosgraaf plays seven different instruments here, ranging from sopranino to bass, all of them built with a particular range of pitch but also distinct palette of timbres.

REVIEWS:

Bosgraaf is a virtuosic player, whose performances are always energetic. Sometimes he tends to go overboard, for instance in his choice of tempi and the addition of ornamentation. Here he behaves almost impeccably. Some movements in Schickhardt's sonata are played very fast, but that seems justified. Bosgraaf makes a nice difference between the two ensuing allegros in the middle of this sonata. There is just one issue: in the opening movement of Van Noordt's sonata it was decided to add some chirping. I don't like this kind of gimmick, and the music doesn't need it. In a time when the use of a string bass seems the rule, and the participation of a plucked instrument almost inevitable, it is nice that the performers have confined themselves to the harpsichord for the basso continuo. The two artists often collaborate, and Corti is again an excellent partner, who also delivers a fine performance of the pieces by Fiocco.

In short, this is a delightful disc which will appeal not only to recorder aficionados.

-- Musica Dei Donum

Most of us haven’t heard of Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer (1692-1766), but that’s who wrote more of the music on this program than anyone else. Some of his contemporaries—Fiocco, Leclair, Loeillet, Van Noordt, Parcham, and Schickhardt—will be more or even less familiar. They were all in some way related to the Dutch Republic. 7 members of the recorder family are used with a modern copy of a 1732 harpsichord tuned at A=392, generally considered the French standard. Erik Bosgraaf sings, whatever the size and pitch of the instrument he’s playing. Francesco Corti employs the buff stop now and then but accompanies ably all the way through. He gets the Fiocco to himself: four movements that conclude the First Suite of Harpsichord Pieces, Op. 1. Balance between the two players and through the range of the harpsichord is excellent. Ornamentation keeps things lively, so your attention never flags. Since there are 38 tracks, all of them are relatively short, making for plenty of variety. They may go by even faster than you wish, because everything is worth hearing again! Music like this—often with a strong influence of Italians like Vivaldi—is how 18th Century Dutch passed the time when they had leisure, and when you have leisure you’ll enjoy it too. Also consider hearing from Jeremias Schwarzer and Ralf Waldner on Genuin 19646 (S/O 2019, p 177). A 28-page booklet gives notes by musicologist Thiemo Wind in English and German along with many illustrations. This recording was made in a church apparently next to a field with cows, so the range of pictures extends from the sacred to the profane or mundane, but that’s the only mundane thing about this collection!

-- American Record Guide

In Stockholm during Johan Helmich Roman's lifetime, the recorder was the most common wind instrument, used throughout the social spectrum – including the Royal music establishment. The transverse flute, however, was generally the preserve of the nobility and bourgeosie. That hasn't stopped the celebrated recorder player Dan Laurin from taking up his countryman’s sonatas on his own instrument. With his fellow musicians in Paradiso Musicale, Laurin opts for a justifiably Italianate slant – providing great variety in realizations characterized by bold and striking harmonizations.

With this disc, Miklós Spányi's survey of the complete keyboard concertos of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, begun in 1995, reaches its conclusion. But over the years it has already been described as 'a unique monument to one of the 18th century's most underrated composers' (Gramophone) as well as 'one of the most important and monumental recording projects of the century so far' (MusicWeb International) and 'an epoch-making achievement... in the history of recorded music' (klassik-heute.de). Together, the 64 works - composed over a period of fifty-five years (1733-88) - form an endlessly fascinating picture of their composer's various choices made in the course of a long career. They also illustrate the development of the concerto genre, and, indeed, of music itself during the mid-eighteenth century - a period of experimentation and great variety. All of these aspects are explored in an admirable fashion in the liner notes to the various discs, written by the C.P.E. Bach scholars Jane R. Stevens and Darrell M. Berg. Throughout the series, Miklós Spányi has performed the solo parts on harpsichord, fortepiano and tangent piano, carefully explaining his choices in his own remarks to each volume, and thereby providing much insight into a crucial chapter in the development of the keyboard instruments. The two double concertos on this final volume frame most of Bach's career, with the F major work for two harpsichords hailing from 1740 and the Concerto in E flat major being the fruit of the composer's final year. The latter work is intriguing in that Bach in his score specified that the solo parts should be performed on a harpsichord and a fortepiano respectively, resulting in some fascinating sound effects. The disc ends with a Sonatina for two harpsichords, composed in the 1760s, and remarkable for the size of its orchestra: the work employs the largest forces ever used by Bach, and forms a suitably resplendent finale to this great recording project.

José Antonio Carlos de Seixas shared a common keyboard tradition with his contemporary and colleague Domenico Scarlatti, and the question as to who most influenced the other remains unanswered. De Seixas absorbed and combined Italian influences with the musical traditions of Spain and Portugal to create spectacular sonatas filled with grand gestures and remarkable virtuoso effects. Volume 1 of this series (Naxos 8.557459) was described as an “unusually satisfying disc of Baroque keyboard music, packed with real thrills” (All Music Guide).

A perpetuator of Corelli’s style, but endowed with a more passionate nature and a more refined technique, Tartini fully embodies the musical taste of the 18th century, according to which “music ought to be expressive and not merely ornamented, insignificant and artificial”, thus truly earning the title of “master of the nations”. The works of the present release embrace an arc of almost thirty years, spanning from the 1730s (Sonata No. 45) to the 1760s (Sonata No. 40). All of them have initial themes that are easily remembered because of some peculiar traits and of the incisiveness of their motives, the apex of expressiveness being in the slow movement. The Allegros that follow, often passionately vigorous, are dominated by vivid colours and very interesting rhythmic and harmonic variety, and permeated by refined technique.

German harpsichordist and organist Christine Schornsheim has studied at the Spezialschule fur Musik Berlin, the Hoschshule fur Musik Berlin, and individually under Gustav Leonhardt, Ton Koopman, Johann Sonnleitner, and Andreas Staier. Christine has been an active freelance harpsichordist since 1985. She has appeared at illustrious festivals all over the world, and performs on stages with conductors such as Sir Georg Solti, Claudio Abbado, Peter Schreier, and more. The cornerstone of this work is the Bach Goldberg Variations. Christine writes: “…the Goldberg Variations rank among the most significant works of clavier literature. I listened to my first recording, produced 25 years ago, only to notice that over the course of the years I have remained true to myself in many respects. On the other hand a process of maturation has taken place, the outcome of which I now indeed wanted to document.”

Within this new album the Armonia delle Sfere ensemble is delivering to us the complete Produzioni Armoniche work by Antonia Bembo, a collection of 41 motets dedicated in 1701 to Louis XIV, in whose court she landed after a series of vicissitudes occurred in Venice, her hometown, including the failure of a marriage and important family disputes, for which she was deprived of her paternal inheritance. After being trained under the musical guidance of Francesco Cavalli (1602-1676), organist of the ducal chapel of San Marco, Antonia secretly married Lorenzo Bembo, a Venetian nobleman, from whom she had two children, and from whom in 1672 she herself asked divorce, due to the continuing absence of her husband, whom she also accused of continuing abuse and betrayal. She then moved to Paris, perhaps following the guitarist Francesco Corbetta, where she concentrated on music and composition, and where she had the opportunity to perform in the presence of Louis xiv, at the court of which she would find acceptance and protection until the end of her life. It is the fascinating story of a strong personality that sought and found its way overcoming the difficult condition of a seventeenth century woman artist.

Among practices distinguishing the European music scene in the second half of the eighteenth century, the performance of music for two players on the same keyboard is certainly one of the more remarkable and, in some ways, significant examples. The rendition of a four-handed piece on the harpsichord or the fortepiano can be considered an example of the direction that music of the second half of the eighteenth century was about to take: light-hearted, convivial, and educational, in which quality existed alongside the intention to satisfy the new “galant” tastes of the aristocracy, as well as the needs of the rising middle class. The four-handed genre becomes, in this regard, an ideal setting to express the new musical feeling. Four hands can double possibilities and exploit the keyboard’s full range. The search for expressivity is maintained by combining extended melodies with arpeggios or broken chords. In the case of performance on the harpsichord, the increased opportunity to “mix” the stops facilitates the search for unexplored colors and contrasts. On a historical copy of the famous harpsichord maker Martin Sassmann, Alberto Firrincieli and Mario Stefano Tonda perform the singular repertoire that sees protagonists Nicolò Jommelli, Muzio Clementi and Giovanni Maria Rutini, in these compositions reflecting their different peculiarities.