With Hail! Bright Cecilia, Henry Purcell, herald of the British Baroque, pays tribute to the patron saint of music through a score widely regarded as one of his masterpieces. Composed in 1692, this ode reflects both the artistic effervescence of 17th-century England and the central role of music in society at the time. Vincent Dumestre and Le Poeme Harmonique reveal the full expressive richness of Purcell's writing in a performance where jubilant brilliance, lyrical delicacy, and dramatic contrasts unfold with infectious vitality. Alternating between recitatives, solo arias, and sumptuous choruses, the score showcases Purcell's mastery of musical dramaturgy, balancing orchestral refinement with controlled theatricality.

On her first solo recital for BIS, Gramophone Award-winner Helen Charlston performs a selection of songs by the English composer Henry Purcell, some very well-known, others less so, as well as pieces by other composers of the period such as John Blow, John Eccles, Christopher Simpson and Daniel Purcell, Henry's son. Her choice focuses on songs that tell stories exploring the struggle between heart and mind: do we fall in love through reason or because fate destined it to be so? Concerning her special relationship with Purcell, Charlston explains that she finds herself making space for his songs in almost every programme she creates. She adds that his addictive music holds a power over her she cannot and does not want to escape, and this specific programme is a special acknowledgement of the fact that Purcell's music has become an essential part of her identity as a singer. For this release, Helen Charlston is joined by the ensemble Sounds Baroque: Julian Perkins (harpsichord/organ), Jonathan Manson and William Carter (theorbo/baroque guitar), three musicians whose expertise and love for this music, she says, overflow in every note they play.

BLOW: ODE ON THE DEATH OF HENR

ENGLISH HARPSICHORD MUSIC OF T

BLOW Venus and Adonis & • Paul O’Dette, Stephen Stubbs, cond; Amanda Forsythe ( Venus ); Tyler Duncan ( Adonis ); Mireille Lebel ( Cupid ); Boston Early Music Fest Vocal/Ch Ens • CPO 777 614-2 (65:21 Text and Translation)


& Welcome, Ev’ry Guest. Chloe Found Amyntas Lying All in Tears. Ground in g


Venus and Adonis is an opera or masque (at the time, an opera intended for royal presentation) composed by John Blow in or around 1683. It isn’t the earliest English work of its kind to be set to music without spoken dialogue, though it is the first whose score is known to have survived. A tally of its predecessors yields much of interest. The great playwright Ben Jonson wrote that Nicolas Lanier’s setting of one of his masques in 1617 was completely composed, and in “stylo recitativo,” while William Davenant penned the libretto in 1656 for an all-sung opera titled The Siege of Rhodes , with music by Henry Cooke, Henry Lawes, and Matthew Locke. Two other operas composed around that time, Richard Flecknoe’s Ariadne Deserted by Theseus and The Marriage of Oceanus and Brittania , were also sung without spoken dialogue. Whether these or other operas furnished Blow with any English precedent to draw upon is impossible to determine, though the lack of any similar dramatic works in his career may indicate a commission or request of some kind.


The opera’s subject is well known, but here, too, a mystery arises. In other versions of the myth, Venus tries to persuade her lover Adonis not to go hunting; he refuses, leaves, then dies. Blow’s librettist, Anne Kingsmill, a maid of honor to the Duchess of York, reverses the roles, making it Venus who repeatedly demands that Adonis go forth to do battle via hunting, while Adonis wishes to stay with her. The reason for this inversion has never been explained, but that one existed is universally acknowledged. Royal masques (and French opera-ballet, such as Charles II enjoyed and occasionally took part in at Versailles while in exile) always operated at multiple propagandistic levels, and the little we know about the opera’s first performance is that it was performed at court with Mary “Moll” Davis, one of Charles II’s former mistresses and an actress of some ability, as Venus, while her daughter by the King, Lady Mary Tudor, was Cupid. (She would have been about 10 years old at the time of Venus and Adonis . Later she would marry three times, always into the nobility, and have four children, two of whom were hanged for treason as Jacobites.) About one of the opera’s subtextual political meanings we are reasonably certain, then: The presence of Mary Tudor amounted to recognition in her father’s eyes before his court. Beyond that, we can only guess about Venus’s harsh behavior. Charles II was known among other personal qualities for his great discretion, and his court records imitate their master in this.


This studio recording followed by almost a year the Boston Early Music Festival’s double-bill performance of Venus and Adonis paired with Charpentier’s Acteon . I saw that production in late 2008, with all the trimmings, scholarly and entertaining, that the BEMF bestows on its operatic productions. None of the visuals are available here, of course, but the production’s stylishness and vitality under the dual leadership of Paul O’Dette and Stephen Stubbs are palpable. Amanda Forsythe combines a radiantly focused soprano with excellent enunciation and a dramatic coloration of the text. Surely other fanciers of archival operatic performance besides myself would proclaim “My Shepherd, Will You Know the Art” a superb example of shading and phrasing if it were only hip-deep in tics, rumble, restricted frequency response, and scratchy background noise on an acoustical 78 rpm shellac disc. She is well matched in all respects by Tyler Duncan’s darkly suave baritone. His especially fine lower extension is heard to advantage in “You Who the Slothful Joys of City Hate.” Finally, there’s Mireille Lebel as Cupid, a relatively simple part as written, and suited to a talented 10-year-old probably trained in singing for several years. Lebel gives us characterization, a great deal of color, and I suspect more in the way of delicately executed figurations than Mary Tudor managed.


I can’t claim to have listened to all the available competition. Of those I’ve heard, Philip Pickett’s vigorous, sharply accented account (Decca 473713) is fortunate enough to have the rich-voiced Catherine Bott as Venus, though neither oratorio-like Michael George nor the harpsichord-laden continuo do much for me. Elizabeth Kenny/Theatre of the Ayre (Wigmore Hall Live 43) has a superior Adonis in Roderick Williams, but I find Sophie Daneman not as vocally or dramatically as interesting as either Forsythe or Bott, while Elin Manahan Thomas seems too hard-edged for Cupid.


Given its 50-minute length, the BEMF folks supply three additional pieces that were not sung live in the Chamber Opera series. Welcome, Ev’ry Guest is the opening number to Blow’s song collection Amphion Anglicus , published in 1700. Forsythe’s control of agility and dynamics come to the fore in this virtuoso piece.


Chloe Found Amyntas Lying All in Tears is a setting of a Dryden poem published in 1693. It is a mock pastoral: The shepherd Amyntas begs for a kiss from, and is ridiculed by, his Chloe, who requires three verses before she repents (with some risqué play on words). Blow has great fun portraying Amyntas’s quasi-pathos, complete with elaborate chromaticism and madrigalisms, and Chloe’s cruel, blithely uncaring response. The trio of two tenors and a bass-baritone produce a fine sound, with excellent intonation, and the slow, pointed skipping of Chloe’s rhythms by the continuo are highlights.


Finally, the Ground in G Minor spotlights the stylish and technically expert work of Robert Mealy and Peter Spissky. I can’t claim much familiarity with the latter, but Mealy is a fixture at many early-music festivals, as well as a professor of early music at Yale. He’s on several records, but seldom in any solo capacity—would that were to change, based on several instrumental concerts I’ve seen.


The sound is generally good and close for the vocalists, as it should be, though I note one oddity in Venus and Adonis : Forsythe’s microphone audibly diminishes in volume in the middle of her repeat of “hounds” on F in “Hark, Hark, the Hunters; Hark, Hark, the Hounds!” This should have been fixed before release.


That very minor blemish aside, this is a first-rate release in all respects. BEMF has yet another highly successful operatic recording to its credit.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

BLOW Venus and Adonis & • Bertrand Cuiller, cond; Céline Scheen ( Venus ); Marc Mauillon ( Adonis ); Grégoire Augustin ( Cupid ); Les Musiciens du Paradis, Maîtrise de Caen • ALPHA 703 (DVD: 86:29) Live: Caen 2013


& Ode à Sainte-Cecile


This production mixes the authentic with the experimental, generally with excellent results. Authenticity can be found in the six footlight boxes at the front of the stage, filled with a couple of dozen lit candles each; but the stage itself is occupied by movable, fake deciduous trees, and wooden pillar sections ranging from two to four feet high. On top of the latter, and scattered across the floor, are a mix of glass boxes filled with yet more lit candles, and other boxes with solid and wireframe geometric objects. When performed against a black backdrop, with period costumes almost entirely in black as well, and the young trebles of the Caen Choir School playing with the geometric toys, the effect is of a time out of time: an intimate, arboreal sanctuary for Venus and the immortal spirits that are her followers, where nothing changes. Except for mortal Adonis, dressed in yellow and red.


Blow’s score, half English masque, half early opera, leaves a lot of leeway for dance. Françoise Denieau choreographs for the most part with Baroque movements and gestures that must have been rehearsed assiduously to look as natural as they do. He and stage director Louise Moaty second Blow’s ever-changing musical forms with a clever and varied use of their deliberately limited stage, where the introduction of a few carefully chosen, fresh elements—the hunting hounds that are brought through once, the pair of live doves that sit on the hands of two of the Graces, as they slowly dance—can have a correspondingly major effect.


To the performances. Marc Mauillon, whom I greatly enjoyed recently in a disc of Machaut (Eloquentia 1342), has a dry, light baritone. It is not an especially attractive voice, but he expressively and clearly enunciates the text, and phrases particularly well. Céline Scheen is a showstopper, with a finely focused tone, and a control of dynamics that allows her complete control of the line. It’s rare to hear diminuendos executed with such finesse, and without a break to the filament. Grégoire Augustin, one of the Caen Choir School trebles, looks youthful enough for the part of Cupid, but has an unfortunate tendency to let the pitch sag in the middle of phrases. There is also an instance where he looks surprised, then suddenly jumps up and races to join others beginning to dance across the other side of the stage, in a manner that suggests a forgotten cue. Nerves are likely responsible: It’s a lot of responsibility to place on a child who to judge from the all too brief accompanying documentary material has not had the solo spotlight in an opera before. Bertrand Cuiller’s conducting is expert, flexible, rhythmically based, and tightly disciplined.


Given the short length of Blow’s work, his Ode à Sainte-Cécile is also included, slightly staged with the same performers and costumes, soloists moving in and out of the line, with dancers occasionally taking part. It makes for a charming pendant to the evening.


Two issues need to be raised. One is that of pronunciation. While nearly all the performers enunciate their text well, with one exception (the very fine soprano Anne-Marie Beaudette) they adopt what someone in charge clearly believes to be a late 17th-century accent found in some part of London. Since no one has any idea, or can have any idea, what this was like, and since I have heard five separate, completely different versions thus far of an “authentic 17th-century London accent” from various groups and individuals, each claiming to know The Truth, I would suggest it might be better to let the issue lie, and use some form of modern English that is completely intelligible to audiences. The half-Cardiff, half-Edinburgh that seems to form a standard on this recording sounds even stranger when filtered through several Norman accents.


The second issue is that of camera work. The opera in general is well photographed, with good attention paid to highlighted groups, while avoiding the abuse of close-ups; and I strongly enjoyed the real candles utilized both in footlights and so many areas of the stage. But these create a washed-out effect in the performers and scenery—so be aware, the rich colors on the DVD cover are not at all representative. You’ll need to truly ramp up the saturation of your screen while dimming the brightness a bit to approach that look.


With reservations allowed for strange accents, and an uneasy, sometimes off-pitch Cupid, I strongly enjoyed this production. Louise Moaty and her colleagues are to be congratulated for finding clever ways to reinvigorate Blow’s usual and delightful work, with fine performances from nearly all the participants. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Classical Music

Includes work(s) by William Lawes, Alfonso Ferrabosco (II), Maurice Greene, John Weldon, William Boyce, various composers. Soloist: Emma Kirkby.

Classical Music

The figure of George Frideric Handel cast a long shadow over musical London in the first half of the eighteenth century; casting many of his contemporaries – fine composers themselves – into centuries of obscurity. This recording throws light into forgotten corners and discovers some glittering gems; some of them demanding dazzling vocal fireworks from their performers. Several of these composers set scenes from Classical mythology or Old Testament narratives – but they also explore the underside of the Baroque psyche in one of David’s darkest psalms and in a representation of Arcadian madness.

Two classic court operas are brought together to tell the stories of love, be it between gods or royalty in the historic Confidencen Theatre, Sweden. Venus & Adonis, composed in 1683 by John Blow, is considered the earliest example of English opera. It tells the enchanting story of two mythical lovers and their cruel fate in scenes reaching from light-hearted comedy to heartfelt despair. Henry Purcell’s Dido & Aeneas from 1689 has become one of the most famous and beloved operas from the Baroque era, with its sumptuous music, dramatic plot and its themes of love, friendship, jealousy, and cruelty. The opera is perhaps best known for Dido’s painfully beautiful lament When I am Laid in Earth.

Early music ensemble Ceruleo presents an album of music from restoration-era England. Featuring works by Henry Purcell, John Blow, Francesco Corbetta, and John Eccles, the album looks at the dramatic character of English Restoration music and its relationship to the theatrical tradition of the time. Providing a snapshot of the music that might have been heard in English theatres and concert halls, Ceruleo creates a performance – like the stage works of Purcell and Blow – which freely flits between deep emotion, humor and melancholy, all interspersed with instrumental dance music.

John Blow, who was to give service to five monarchs, was born into a humble family in Nottinghamshire, presumably at Newark, sometime within a month of the beheading of King Charles I. He was a music scholar at the Magnus Song School in Newark before becoming a chorister in the Chapel Royal. There, under the tutelage of Henry Cooke, his colleagues included Pelham Humfrey, Robert Smith, William Turner and Michael Wise - all of whom achieved significant distinction in their later careers. Blow showed considerable promise as a composer; several of his anthems were included in the chapel repertory. Blow became an organ pupil of Christopher Gibbons before his first appointment at Westminster Abbey at the age of nineteen and he was made Musician for the Virginals to the King a year later. From 1674 until his death, he was Master of the Children at the Chapel Royal. In 1679 he transferred his office at Westminster Abbey to his pupil Henry Purcell, with whom he shared a close professional relationship and lifelong friendship. He took over the post again after Purcell’s untimely death in 1695, and held several other important positions in London: as Master of the Choristers of St Paul’s Cathedral and appointments at court. He continued to serve as Abbey organist until his death. Blow stands out as the dominant figure among the group of London-based musicians whose work is associated with the royal court beginning around 1650, and which assimilated first Italian, and then later elements of French influence. Among the new school of composers were Blow’s pupils Jeremiah Clarke and William Croft, and, of course, the towering musician of the age - Henry Purcell.

France and England had strong musical links during the reign of Louis XIV, with two English sovereigns exiled to France, Francophiles and Francophones, Catholics and allies, linked by blood to their cousin, the Greatest King in the World. After the beheading of his father in 1649, Charles II sought refuge in France before regaining his throne in 1660 and imposing a musical style marked by the French example, in particular with the creation of the 24 King's Violins, and the Royal Academy of Music directed by the Frenchman Cambert! Then from 1689 to 1701, it was James II who lived in exile in Saint-Germain-en-Laye. English composers, pushed to the breadline by the Puritans, were given a new lease of life by the compositions of Lully and the French keyboard masters: during these decades, Blow and Purcell succeeded each other as organists of Westminster, while Nivers and Lebegue held the organ of the Royal Chapel of Versailles. All of these Royals find themselves at the harpsichord and the organ in Constance Taillard's witty settings, as she plays the historic instruments of the Palace of Versailles with an oh-so British and Si Français style.