Monteverdi, C.: Motets and Madrigals for 2 Sopranos

MADRIGALS

A previously unpublished recording of six of Monteverdi's madrigals has been attached to the re-edition of this album. This outstanding performance comes from a concert held on 19 May 1991 in Tours. In this recording, the composer's genius and the talent and work of the singers miraculously combined. All the madrigals on the album, performed by Il Canto, are small masterpieces, but there are real gems among them, pieces that we experience deeply with each performance. The most beautiful of them is Piagne e sospira to a text by Tasso. The music, enhancing the sombre mood of the poem, triggers intense emotions in the listener. S, ch'io vorrei morire, on the other hand, is a perfect erotic, painting the elation of the act of love with music. The terrible despair of an abandoned lover is contained in Ah, dolente partita. On the other side of the mood, one can situate two light, virtuoso madrigals Io mi son giovinetta and Quel augellin che canta.'

Classical Music

MONTEVERDI: Il Combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda / Madrig

The first masterpiece of sacred music is undoubtedly the mythical Vespers of Monteverdi, first published in Venice in 1610. Quintessential of the great Italian polychoral style of writing, with its choirs, initially distributed throughout the entire volume of the Basilica San Marco for spectacular effects, the Vespers are here raised to the heavenly spheres by Raphael Pichon: every aspect of the Royal Chapel of Versailles (1710) is being put to use to magnify the music echoing from the Royal Tribune to that of the Great Organ. The Pygmalion choir and orchestra stands flawless, the soloists are overwhelming and the emotional power released by this interpretation set in space and light is stunning: its beauty seems never ending. The choral monumental piece by Monteverdi, which crystallizes the height of the baroque, meets the highest standards defended by Raphaël Pichon. To be more intimate with God than ever before...

Monteverdi's Orfeo, first performed in 1607, generates a special excitement because it is the first unquestioned masterpiece of opera. Notable for it's precise orchestration and powerful drama it was a groundbreaking work. It concerns the legend of Orpheus, the demi-god whose music had the power to conquer the forces of Hell and to bring his wife back, briefly, to life. The extracts used in this introduction are from Naxos's full recording; it uses authentic period instruments, which serve to evoke the early Baroque period of the opera's composition.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Following their album largely devoted to sacred polyphonic works composed for the basilica of Santa Barbara during the period in which Claudio Monteverdi worked for the Gonzagas in Mantua, Odhecaton now presents sacred compositions from the composer's later years, written for St Mark's basilica where he became maestro di cappella in 1613. This new recording presents both sides of Monteverdi's sacred style: the stile antico or strict contrapuntal style, exemplified in the Mass for four voices published posthumously in 1650; and the stile moderno, that is, concertato and solo vocal writing. The concertato style, which combines and intertwines voices and instruments in dialogue, characterizes the monumental Gloria a 7, which was conceived for a cappella rich in virtuoso singers and instrumentalists. But in this city of theaters, in the heyday of the canto a voce sola, Monteverdi transformed the famous Lamento d'Arianna (from his lost opera Arianna) into a sacred piece. The Litanies to the Virgin Mary, published in three collections between 1620 and 1650, represent the expression of a gentle Marian style, dominated by a cappella choral invocations alternating with brief solo passages.

Rinaldo Alessandrini is one of today’s most eminent Monteverdi authorities, and his highly acclaimed recordings with Concerto Italiano are now widely recognised as a reference point for music lovers all over the world. Recent achievements include the completion of Monteverdi’s trilogy of operas (directed by Robert Wilson) at La Scala in Milan and at the Opéra National de Paris, and a triumphal concert tour in Australia and New Zealand with the Vespro della Beata Vergine. To mark the 450th anniversary of Claudio Monteverdi’s birth, Arcana is proud to reissue the seminal recording of the Sixth Book of Madrigals performed by Concerto Italiano, which is also one of Arcana’s bestsellers. Rinaldo Alessandrini describes the Sixth Book as the book of separation: permanent in the case of death; temporary in the case of lovers at daybreak. It is the book of poignant expression which culminates in the cycles of lamenti, whose autobiographical character is well known: the successive deaths of Monteverdi’s wife (Claudia Cattaneo) and his favourite singer (Caterina Martinelli). Its density of expression, its ‘italianità’, not exempt from theatricality, by turns luminous and despairing, make it the place where interpretation is the fundamental element, capable of overwhelming our contemporaries.

This brand-new recording of Orfeo lacks thrills and grand vocal displays, and the results are beautiful indeed. Purposely eschewing what opera turned into within a half-century of this, the purported first entirely extant opera, Andrew Parrott, with 40 years of experience and scholarship under his belt, has opted to present a “favola in musica” rather than the later notation, a “dramma per musica”. The distinction is one of size, scope, and focus.

The performances that were given of Orfeo at the court of Mantua were neither fully-staged nor opulent; there is mention of a “curtain” but the room itself was salon-sized and the purpose of the event was to appreciate the combination of poetry and music. There were no singing stars; the purpose of the show was not virtuosity. It was an experiment for the heightening of the text by music.

With that in mind, this exquisite, delicate reading is a glorious alternative to, say, the Philip Pickett, René Jacobs, or Nikolaus Harnoncourt performances (let alone the heartbreaking Emmanuel Haim reading on Virgin), which are interested in Orfeo as a piece of theater, designed to “impress” and possibly stun. Parrott’s show places equal emphasis on the music and text—the words are delivered flawlessly, with strength where needed, but utterly devoid of melodrama. The drama is in the sadness of both words and music. It’s almost like Mozart in that respect: his operas rarely need to be “interpreted”; if the singers and players follow the music and text scrupulously, an effect will be made. It may not engender shock and awe, but the tale will be told, without over-emphasizing or exaggeration.

And that is what we get here. The first CD begins with the sound of a few people chattering, and the Gonzaga fanfare is first heard from a distance. Then it comes a bit closer—in a different key (this is not explained), which is a bit jarring but certainly makes us pay attention. The first voice we hear—La Musica—is that of countertenor David Hurley, perhaps the purest male adult voice I’ve ever heard (including Phillip Jaroussky’s). It is light as a feather, and music itself.

Charles Daniels is a wonderful Orfeo—sweet and gentle—and he handles the amazingly difficult “Possente spirto” and “Orfeo son io” in the third act beautifully, with every note clear and focused, but without any grandstanding. His legato (this entire performance is all about the unstoppability of music as exhibited by superb legato playing and singing from everyone) is a thing of wonder. Caronte, in the person of Curtis Streetman, also singing smoothly (and with a sensational trillo on the word “canto”), brings out some forte, impassioned pleading from Daniels’ Orefo—all the more effective since all else has been so understated.

Emily van Evera’s Messaggiera is a problem—her voice is too bright and she is too matter-of-fact for someone delivering such terrible news—but her Prosperina is so lovely that Christopher Purves’ Plutone must give in to her request. Faye Newton’s Eurydice is particularly effective in her final farewell, with its weird-and-weirder chromatic lines. Some might argue that the Infernal Spirits are not menacing enough; I would direct their attention to the accompaniment of the three trombones and two bass trombones, which add enough darkness to hide the sun. The only other concession to this being a staged work is the gradual disappearance of Apollo (finely sung by Guy Melc) and Orfeo near the opera’s close, since there is in fact a stage direction in the score that states that they “ascend”.

There are 29 instrumentalists, 14 of whom are string players; several of the singers play double roles. The harmonies in the choruses are spotless, with the men’s voices impeccably matched; this is some of the smoothest singing I’ve ever heard. Pitch is A=440 (most other recordings use A=465) which adds to the ease of production and mellow, sad telling of this well-known tale. The sound is pristine.

This may not be an only choice for a version of Orfeo; it’s an alternative, possibly thoroughly accurate reading of the favola. But its poetic approach is an ideal companion to the more aggressive, later 17th and early 18th century “operatic” readings mentioned above, with Haim’s probably first.

– Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

MONTEVERDI: Ballo Delle Ingrate / Combattimento di Tancredi

MONTEVERDI: Vespers of the Blessed Virgin