Domenico Cimarosa was the most famous and popular Italian opera composer of the second half of the 18th Century. In the course of a brilliantly successful career he composed more than 65 operas as well as a significant number of other works. Nothing is known about the origins of the keyboard sonatas although from their style and structure they appear to date from relatively early in his career. These attractive, small-scale works were probably intended for study purposes or for domestic performance. The crystalline brilliance of many of the fast outer movements is very appealing and the slow movements, although somewhat conservative in style, often possess a surprising expressive depth. Of the first volume (8.570718) ClassicsToday wrote: ‘Sangiorgio’s clean, even-handed, excellently engineered performances are ideal.’

CIMAROSA Keyboard Sonatas: R 1–18 • Victor Sangiorgio (pn) • NAXOS 8.570718 (66: 49)


I’ve only heard a small amount of Cimarosa’s music—a smattering of mediocre concerto movements, a few scattered vocal works, and of course the fine opera, Il matrimonio segreto , his only work with a significant recorded history. This constitutes a considerable demotion for the most renowned Italian composer of the late 18th century during his lifetime. As for his keyboard works, the 87 movements attributed to Cimarosa are shrouded in mystery. They weren’t discovered until 1927 (and not in the composer’s hand), contemporaneous accounts of their existence are absent, and there is no hard evidence for the purpose of their composition. Even the grouping of the pieces into two or three movement “sonatas” is largely arbitrary, accomplished apparently by the editors of published editions, although the otherwise excellent notes are ambiguous on the subject.


The first composer who springs to mind after these written descriptions and initial hearings is Domenico Scarlatti, whose similarly brief keyboard sonatas have long been standard fare. There is no issue of provenance in his case, and keyboard works were his bread and butter, not an afterthought, as appears to be the case with Cimarosa. However, the possible sonata linkage of movements in identical keys is a well-litigated point for both. Given Cimarosa’s era, we should be examining these pieces alongside the piano works of Haydn and Mozart. Yet, there are so few similarities in style and scale that such a comparison appears fruitless. Again, the more apt relationship is to his countryman Scarlatti, even though the Baroque composer was born nearly 70 years earlier. Remarkably, the sonatas of the much older composer sound more advanced. Scholars are uncertain if Cimarosa heard Scarlatti’s sonatas, but the connections seem undeniable. Listen to the first movement of the Sonata in G Minor (Rossi 10), with its conversation between hands and melodically arpeggiated figures at cadences that are repeated at the end of long phrases, a Scarlatti trademark if ever there was one. Similar commonalities in texture, mood, and melodic construction present themselves throughout this disc.


When I’m asked by a classical-music novice whom to recommend as an introduction to the art, Scarlatti is often the first name that comes to mind, since his music reveals its merits on only one or two hearings, and its brevity fits seamlessly into our pop-song culture (neither of these observations should be construed as criticisms). I could add Cimarosa’s morsels to this short list, except, to put it bluntly, there is a significant gap in quality between the two composers.


Interested listeners should also take note of a single disc of 32 Cimarosa sonatas by Evgeny Soifertis on Meridian, a two-disc set of the complete sonatas by Marcella Crudeli on Arcobaleno, and another by Andrea Coen on Stradivarius. These works were clearly written for the harpsichord, although all three of these recordings use the piano. The recorded sound is satisfactory, and Victor Sangiorgio plays with stylish intimacy.


FANFARE: Michael Cameron

SECRET MARRIAGE

CIMAROSA Il matrimonio segreto • Francis Travis, cond; Enrico Fissore ( Geronimo ); Valeria Baiano ( Elisetta ); Antonella Bandelli ( Carolina ); Carmen Gonzalez ( Fidalma ); Roberto Coviello ( Count Robinson ); Paolo Barbacini ( Paolino ); Swiss Italian O • OPUS ARTE 4021 (DVD: 164:00) Live: Lugano 1986


There really should be a video standard to which all companies issuing archival film material on DVDs agree, one that involves a series of clear statements regarding product condition. As it is, we have the Arthaus 1968 Fidelio with Silja I reviewed in Fanfare 32:4, which warned at the film’s start about a deterioration I couldn’t see, and this Il matrimonio segreto from 1986, which provides no warnings at all, but repeatedly suffers from fuzziness in medium-to-distant shots and severe post-image artifacts around moving centers of light, such as candles. As there are numerous candles on the stage in act II, some of them being gestured with during arias and duets, the red blob that swirled around behind these light sources certainly deserved comment on the package.


This isn’t to say the production lacks merit. The singing in general is good. Antonella Bandelli has an exceptionally well-focused tone, with a narrow, quick vibrato. She displays excellent musical sense and breadth of line in “Come tacerlo poi,” the accompanied recitative that hints best at the darker emotions beneath the opera’s elegant surface. Her equal is Valeria Baiano, who doesn’t project quite as well, but delivers an effortless flurry of coloratura in her virtuosic aria, “Se son vendicata.” Roberto Coviello is a bit too dry and baritonal for my liking in the role of the Count, but he delivers the requisite smooth gentility that the role demands. Carmen Gonzalez is the only weak link, with a wide flap in her voice that makes for difficult listening. Paolo Barbacini has trouble with the relatively low top notes in his part, but offers an attractively free, lyrical sound, with good breath support. Unfortunately, his acting is wooden, with gestures and movements frequently appearing a shade too early or too late. By way of contrast, his opposite number is Enrico Fissore, one of those sturdy basses with exceptional acting skills that could hold together a flimsy work with ease, and a stronger one with panache. There are a few too many close-ups that look odd, considering the exaggerated facial expressions used to reach the audience, but he moves with authority and a sense of being completely in character.


The camerawork is otherwise good. This is one of the very few live filmed operatic productions I’ve seen that focuses on the strings or horns during the overture when they are featured—in other words, carefully prepared camerawork based on performance and score. Most stage shots are medium or distant, but even then, the distant shots are mobile enough to concentrate on the singers. My only regret is the level of blur associated especially with facial detail at medium range, as mentioned above.


Director Filippo Crivelli moves his people about with ease, adding stage business that for the most part flows seamlessly into the action. I note two exceptions. The first is the group of four non-singing servants, whose goofy antics and coarse acting reminded me, an ordinarily humane man, of the value of the bastinado. The second was the act II dinner scene for Geronimo, Elisetta, Fidalma, and the Count, in which Carolina pleads for time to get out of being sent to a convent, only to be ignored, ridiculed, or harshly reprimanded. Why is the table set only for four? Why are the first three so suddenly incapable of displaying even the slightest signs of remorse, even as they insist upon Carolina’s departure? Why is the Count, who admires and is infatuated with Carolina, completely stone-faced throughout? As staged, this scene is more appropriate to Rossini’s La cenerentola —and we hate Cinderella’s family in it for good reason, while these people should command our sympathies.


As for the stage design, it is a stylized combination of aqua and turquoise walls with numerous white door flats, their elaborate carvings drawn with charcoal. The props are few, while the costumes are appropriate for period, place, and class. There’s no digital sound, which is hardly surprising, given the performance’s age, but the treble is a bit lacking at the high end. Picture format employs a 4:3 ratio. Subtitles are only available in English, and there were numerous occasions when they dropped out completely for as much as 30 seconds at a time—and not just in arias where repetition was a factor. No synopsis or essay is included, just a list of cuts and timings.


Despite its packaging and audiovisual issues, I liked this version of Il matrimonio segreto . It is sprightly, well sung, and decently acted, with several standout performances. Francis Travis has the style of the work perfectly in hand, and the Swiss Italian Orchestra performs admirably. Don’t let the lack of stars fool you. There’s much to enjoy here.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal
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Cast:
Enrico Fissore, Valeria Baiano, Antonella Bandelli, Carmen Gonzalez, Roberto Coviello, Paolo Barbacini
Orchestra della Svizzera Italiana / Francis Travis, conductor
Harpsichord-master Marco Balderi
Stage Director Filippo Crivelli

REGIONS: All Regions
PICTURE FORMAT: 4:3
LENGTH: 164 Mins
SOUND: STEREO
SUBTITLES: English

The first of two CDs of the complete piano sonatas – 88 sonatas in total – by Domenico Cimarosa played by Italian pianist Dario Candela. A first complete recording.

Brilliant Classics has already published all 88 of Domenico Cimarosa’s keyboard sonatas in their commonly encountered appearance as harpsichord pieces (BC95027), as well as an album of 30 sonatas in arrangements for guitar (BC94172). He may still be better known as a composer of comic opera, for masterpiece such as Il matrimonio segreto, but this new album of the sonatas in versions for organ celebrates the variety and adaptability of Cimarosa’s idiom and demonstrates why he was so lionized in his own time. The painter Delacroix preferred Cimarosa’s music to Mozart’s. Stendhal wrote that he would rather be hanged than be forced to state which of the two he preferred. Even the notoriously partial Viennese critic Eduard Hanslick lavished praise on Cimarosa’s wonderful facility, inventive compositional strokes and refined taste, and Goethe, no less, directed several productions of his operas. Perhaps Cimarosa’s sheer fluency has told against his posthumous reputation: where to begin with 88 attractive sonatas? In his own booklet introduction, Andrea Chezzi explains that he has reviewed all of them and chosen 21 which seem particularly suitable for performance on the organ. He has ordered them to alternate slow and fast pieces, made marginal adjustments such as a few pedal doublings, and recorded them here on a historically appropriate instrument by Andrea Boschini (before 1755) and Giovanni Cavalletti (1814), located in the Sanctuary of the Beata Vergine dello Spino, Brugneto di Reggiolo, in the Italian province of Reggio Emilia. Andrea Chezzi’s previous recordings for Brilliant Classics have attracted glowing reviews, such as the Op.1 harpsichord sonatas by Baldassare Galuppi: ‘The performance by Chezzi is bold and decisive… with music that can excite the imagination, performed with grace and style by Chezzi. It also shows that Galuppi is more than just a pretty operatic face.’ (Fanfare)

Listen to the Naxos Podcast to learn more about this release

Domenico Cimarosa was one of the last great exponents of the "Neapolitan School" and one of the most famous and successful composers before the arrival of Rossini on the European opera scene. His works were produced and re-staged at innumerable performances in opera houses all over Europe. This program represents the extraordinary range of Cimarosa's career, from Le trame deluse (The Foiled Schemes) and La villana riconosciutta (The Country Girl Revealed), which were among his greatest hits, to overtures from cantatas such as Atene edificata (The Founding of Athens) and the "dramatic composition" for Cardinal de Bernis, written on the occasion of the birth of the Dauphin, the firstborn son of Louis XVI.

The London harpist Rosanna Rolton, winner of the International Competition "Suoni d'Arpa" in 2014, shows her skills in a repertoire completely dedicated to the Italian harpsichordists of the eighteenth century, rediscovering those ancient and solid bonds, which have united the repertoire for keyboard to that of the harp. In the wake of that connection that has constantly intersected various aspects of musical production, from solo concerts to teaching, from basso continuo to singing accompaniment, the anthology proposed by Rosanna Rolton proposes compositions drawn by the master harpsichordists of the Neapolitan school and Venetian, who created that musical substratum making, from the second half of the eighteenth century the Italian "gallant style", whose roots were greatly re-evaluated during the chamber and symphonic renaissance of the early twentieth century.