Original Booklet with Synopsis and liner notes is included, although there is no libretto.

R E V I E W S

Haydn's last opera, written to inaugurate the reopening of the King's Theatre in the Haymarket in 1791 after a disastrous fire, took as its subject the Orpheus legend, not as it had been adopted by Gluck 30 years earlier, but based on Ovid: Eurydice receives her fatal snakebite while fleeing from Prince Arideo, to whom her father, King Creonte, had affianced her against her will; and there is no happy ending—Orpheus, after his journey to the underworld, loses her for ever, and he is then killed by the Maenads. At least, that is what Haydn would have set had he finished the work; but owing to the crazy rival patronage of George III and the Prince of Wales, the King refused a licence to the theatre manager and went so far as to ban even extracts from the new opera—this from so famous and popular a composer as Haydn! So Haydn stopped work on it, and as no complete libretto exists it is impossible to tell what is actually missing. Large gaps there conspicuously are: principal characters lack arias which would certainly have been their due; there are loose ends in the story, such as what happens after Creonte's call to arms (in a stirring aria) to avenge Arideo's attempted abduction of his daughter; and there is the briefest and most perfunctory treatment of such essential dramatic moments as Orpheus's confrontation with Pluto and of his desperate attempts not to look at Eurydice as he brings her back to earth. Even the main title of the opera remains mystifying, as the only reference to it in the text is when Amor (here called Genio) urges Orpheus to be philosophical about his great loss.

Nevertheless, what remains includes some fine music, as can be heard here. From the outset of the overture Haydn makes much use of broken phrases to express pathos; there is a long love duet at the end of Act 1, a charming folky chorus of little Cupids to begin Act 2; particularly rich are the accompanied recitatives throughout, that by Eurydice as she is bitten by the snake being most moving; the chorus of Furies in Hades is extremely striking, with powerful orchestration; and there is a spectacular bravura aria for Genio, seemingly intended for some leading soprano castrato. On the other hand, it is difficult to understand why Haydn wrote such cheery music for Creonte's aria about life not being worth living without love, and for Orpheus's ''Mi sento languire, morire mi sento''. This live Frankfurt performance is in general very acceptable, though had it been transferred to the studio some details could have been improved: for example, ensemble of the (period) woodwind might have been much better, and there might have been fewer mistakes in the singers' Italian. Marilyn Schmiege makes an appealing Eurydice and copes fairly well, flexibly if not absolutely cleanly, with her first florid aria, in which she likens her laments to those of the nightingale; Christoph Pregardien produces a nice messa di voce at the start of Orpheus's first solo (with harp obbligato) in which he tames the forest's wild beasts threatening his beloved's safety, but the part frequently descends too low for his pleasant light tenor, into a register where he is weak; and Claron McFadden adds to her reputation with some brilliant coloratura, though she is fractionally sharp in places: the chorus, which plays a large part in the action, is excellent.

-- Lionel Salter, Gramophone [4/1992]

This CD features madrigals based on texts by G. Battista Guarini.
Includes madrigal(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Cantus Cölln. Conductor: Konrad Junghänel. Soloist: Konrad Junghänel.

STRADELLA: CHRISTMAS CANTATAS

The performances of these beautifully crafted pieces are more appealing than any previous ones that I have heard.

At first glance, this looks like the concluding volume of a complete recording of Vivaldi’s Op. 1. But, as Michael Talbot points out in a characteristically interesting and informative note, the stronger works are concentrated within the second half of the set. Among them is the best known of the Trios from the collection, the 20 variations on the theme of Spanish origin, La follia.

Only recently I reported favourably on performances of Vivaldi and Tartini by the ensemble L’Arte dell’Arco (Dynamic, 10/97 and 11/97 respectively). The period-instrument group was founded in 1994 and has so far focused its attention on Venetian music, both familiar and less familiar. As I remarked in the previous reviews, the instruments are tuned fractionally higher than today’s concert pitch, rather than the lower A=415, around which most current period-instrument groups prefer to hover. Recent research points to a Venetian tradition of a higher, therefore brighter, pitch in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Another feature of the recording lies in the instruments themselves, which belong to the collection of the Ospedale della Pieta with which Vivaldi was associated, on and off, throughout his working life.

In almost every respect the performances are more appealing than any previous ones that I have heard. For one thing, far greater consideration is given to instrumental sonority and interplay, and for another, careful thought has gone into the punctuation and phrasing of the music. In this way the listener is at once engaged both in the gesture and oratory of these beautifully crafted pieces. Vivaldi’s layout of movements, in all but the last sonata of the set, loosely conforms with that of a typical sonata da camera and, within his chosen schemes, he injects all the expressive contrasts and rhythmic vitality which characterize his concertos. L’Arte dell’Arco sensibly, and to some effect, ring the changes of colour and texture in the basso continuo; cello, theorbo, harpsichord and chamber organ are all called upon but, in one of the sonatas, the two violins are supported by cello, without either keyboard or plucked string. Such a practice may well have been more widespread in Italy than was once supposed and is later borne out in the majority of Tartini’s violin sonatas which were published without figured bass and in some cases with a bass part that was added as an afterthought.

In summary, this is a stimulating release by an ensemble from whom I look forward to hearing more. With Christopher Hogwood’s exemplary keyboard continuo realizations and tasteful judgement the future augurs well. Recommended.

-- Nicholas Anderson, Gramophone [5/1998]

"The CD is very much a showcase for the soprano Marta Almajano . . . who, as on the first disc, proves to be more than equal to the challenge, singing expressively and with bravura as the music demands. . . . There are so many other gems on this disc that it is hard to single out individual items, but try Duron’s “Ondas, riscos, pezes, mares” for plangent chromaticism – the Spanish composers were good at laments, one of the typical dramatic scenes that called for music. Duron’s “Yo no puedo” from El impossible mayor en amor is also inspired, as is the affecting simplicity of Literes’s “Adios dueno ermoso”, performed here with some impeccably delivered ornamentation from Almajano. . . . All in all, this is another enticing sample of the hitherto so little explored Spanish baroque in highly convincing performances by Al Ayre Espanol." -- Tess Knighton, Gramophone

Includes work(s) by Anonymous. Ensemble: Sequentia. Conductor: Benjamin Bagby. Soloists: Benjamin Bagby, Stephen Grant, Paul Guttry, William Hite, Frank Kelley, Eric Mentzel, Sanford Sylvan, Barbara Thornton, Elizabeth Gaver.

TELEMANN: CONCERTOS FOR WOODWI

METAMORPHOSIS - ELGAR, BARBER

Includes work(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Huelgas Ensemble. Conductor: Paul Van Nevel.

FRESCOBALDI: CANZONI DA SONARE

7/30/08 - no Gramophone review - jdb No others found. RO 090908

It’s a programme put together of sixteenth and seventeenth century music from the courts of Vienna and Salzburg with the musical influences on the composers represented, as well as the earlier chant that might have been heard in the course of the mass. The CD’s ‘title’ is Multichoral Sacred Works for Salzburg Cathedral and the Vienna Court Chapel. Biber and Schmelzer take the lion’s share of this CD, though they are nicely complemented by Palestrina and Froberger. A very satisfying little mosaic and expertly played, this CD is thoroughly recommended on all counts.

After a period as violinist at the Salzburg court, Biber became Kapellmeister there in 1684, a post which he held for the last twenty years of his life. Biber was a student of Schmelzer, although the latter is more closely associated with Vienna, the court at which Froberger also worked. Palestrina, of course, worked in Rome a generation or so earlier but was at the height of his influence when Biber, Schmelzer and Froberger were active.

These are exciting, atmospheric and persuasive performances. No comparative recordings of the major works here are in the current catalogue, although the Sonata No.12 from the Sacro-profanus is coupled with another outstanding Biber Mass, Christi Resurgentis by Manze and the English Concert on Harmonia Mundi (907397) and the Froberger is in volume 1 of Richard Egarr’s Complete Keyboard set on Globe (6022). For these two different reasons if this repertoire interests you or you are new to it and think you would enjoy the magnificence of mid-Baroque choral music, don’t hesitate to buy this excellent CD. Biber’s masses are only now beginning to be seen for what they are… splendid, committed and musically very compelling compositions that make particularly spectacular (though never showy) use of the words of the liturgy in a way that was not picked up again until the Bach Passions.

It’s a repertoire in which Junghänel is particularly at home and has built a solid reputation; his Schütz Symphoniae Sacre discs also on Harmonia Mundi being particularly fine. His direction here is firm and illuminating and it’s obvious he’s both at home in and genuinely revelling the music; the same goes for the singers, who are on top form.

The choral singing in the other music is clean, unforced and – as everything else on this offering – well-recorded (in a monastery whose acoustic is a delight and enhances the music). Wolfgang Glüxam’s brief appearance in the Froberger makes a telling interlude, though the atmosphere isn’t really interrupted. If this is the kind of music the Salzburg and Viennese court was used to, they were lucky indeed!

-- Mark Sealey, MusicWeb International

The glowing incandescence of Austrian mid-baroque instrumental music could hardly be more effectively demonstrated than in the choice of repertoire and the performances on this disc. The harmonically sumptuous and tonally exotic programme is shared between the Vienna court musician, Schmelzer, and his younger Bohemian contemporary, Biber. . . . The menu has been thoughtfully chosen, capitalizing upon the vivid contrasts that exist at the two extremes, between the scintillating trumpet-dominated pieces by Biber, on the one hand, and Schmelzer’s affecting Sonata sopra la morte Ferdinand III on the other. Emperor Ferdinand was Schmelzer’s musically gifted employer, and his death in 1657 prompted . . . this outstandingly beautiful piece . . . the most touching of Schmelzer’s three elegiac pieces assembled here, all of which however are harmonically distinctive and of sustained interest. . . . The Freiburg musicians seem to revel in the wonderfully varied sonorities inherent in Biber’s consort textures, responding sympathetically to the composer’s colourfully imaginative tonal palette. The sonatas with trumpet are likely to make instant appeal but it is the more sorrowful utterances of Schmelzer which make a deeper impression on my senses. A fine release. -- Nicholas Anderson, Gramophone

Oswald von Wolkenstein (1376-1445) was a South Tyrolese nobleman whose world travels are reflected in his songs. His life is documented by the usual official records, and two manuscripts (called “A“ and “B“) were compiled in his lifetime, the latter bearing the one-eyed portrait that never fails to turn up on his records. For the seventh full program of Oswald's songs (far more than most secular composers up to this time), Sequentia offers a marvelous selection of eight songs, five of them never recorded before as far as I can tell. The rest include the autobiographical Es fuegt sich, sung complete with its seven long strophes as only Binkley (Fanfare 13:3) has done to my knowledge; the Augsburg ensemble (12:5) used only four strophes, sprinkled through their program, and I have not heard Hans Peter Treichler on the obscure German label called Gold. Two shorter songs of three strophes are Durch Barbarei, Arabia, also complete on Telefunken (Othmar Costa) and Aulos (Wilfried Jochims), and Vil lieber grüsse, likewise included on the Augsburg CD.

Although Oswald wrote both monophonie and polyphonic songs, all these are the former type, and all seem to be sung in complete form; three of the eight are over twelve minutes long. Along with the famous Es fuegt sich, two other autobiographical songs are Wes mich mein bui and Durch Barbarei, Arabia. Es suesst dort her is a morning song (the opposite of a serenade or evening song, dealing with the lovers' parting after spending the night), O snöde werlt is a Spruchdichtung, or moralizing song, and Wer ist, die da durchleuchtet is a song for the Virgin Mary, an interesting contrast to such songs that are found in other countries. Hence the selection is varied, and that extends to the choice of Barbara Thornton or Benjamin Bagby as singer. Harp and fiddles are used for accompaniment except for the unaccompanied Es fuegt sich. The instrumental piece is not even mentioned in the notes, but if Sequentia's record of Hildegard is any indication of their approach, it is an evocation of the composer's themes arranged by the ensemble.

This ensemble is developing a long-range program of German medieval music, not evident from their first few records (Frauenlob and more Hildegard of Bingen are in the works). Like other excellent ensembles', their work is dependable and predictable in the best sense of the word. For the new recordings alone, this disc should certainly go into medieval secular collections, while the duplications are worthy of comparison with previous versions. The sound captured in St. Pantaleon Church in Cologne, one of the city's great old Romanesque churches, is vivid, and the notes are helpful, with texts and three translations. This is highly recommended, with future releases eagerly awaited.

-- J. F. Weber, FANFARE [7/1994]

This is very unusual Bach. The Fantasia in C minor has only recently been identified as being by Bach and Vogel identifies the spurious Sarabande con Partite as being based on the Overture to Lully's opera Bellerophon. In the performances themselves Vogel has ventured some way off the established course. Incomprehensibly he combines the early version of the G minor Prelude (BWV535a) with the final version of its Fugue (BWV535), while he finishes an already disjointed performance of the Toccata, Adagio and Fugue (the Toccata suffering from rather more echo effects than is really good for it) by picking up the Toccata again (from bar 32) immediately after the Fugue. I can't begin to fathom the thinking behind this and Vogel makes no attempt to justify this course of action in his accompanying notes. But there again it does the soul good to have established truths questioned, and this disc does nothing if not question some fundamental beliefs in Bach performances. It would be nice, however, if we were given a few answers.

Apart from registrative eccentricities in BWV564 the novelties in Vogel's performances always have some musical justification; how refreshing, for example, to hear the great In dulci jubilo Prelude played on humble eight and four foot Flutes. I do wonder, though, whether he is sometimes tempted to adapt his musical arguments to suit this particular organ, not least in that strangest of all Bach works, the Pastorale. Here Vogel justifies his employment of the Dulcian stop (one of the particular delicacies of this wonderful instrument) by claiming its use as being in the ''folk tradition of using reed instruments to play pastorellas outdoors''. He might have also added that there is a tradition for these not to have been played particularly well; but no one can dispute that Vogel's performances, full of oddities as they are, are anything other than brilliantly executed. One final enigma bothers me; the booklet includes a murky photograph of one Signore Sandro Boccardi—why?'

-- Marc Rochester, Gramophone [8/1992]