Since 1695 Robert de Visee (ca. 1655 - after 1732) was Maître de guitare du Roy, personal guitar teacher of the Sun King, but he also shone in the chamber concerts of the court as a virtuoso on the theorbo. Xavier Diaz-Latorre gives us here an insight into a repertoire that in De Visee's lifetime was initially reserved for exclusive circles of the French court. Born in Barcelona, Spain in 1968, Xavier Diaz-Latorre studied with Oscar Ghiglia at the Musikakademie and with Hopkinson Smith at the Schola Cantorum. He has given concerts at major venues around the world, including Carnegie Hall, the Teatro Colon, and the Wiener Philarmonie. Diaz-Latorre performs regularly with world-renowned ensembles such as Hesperion XXI, La Capella Reial de Catalunya and Le Concert des Nationa. He has made over 50 recordings for international record labels, and has recorded the complete works for guitar by the composer Francisco Guerau among other titles. He teaches early plucked instruments, chamber music and bass continuo at the ESMUC, and has been invited to teach in the USA, Korea, Japan, and several European countries.

For centuries the cornett was one of the most popular instruments across all genres. Cornett players were highly regarded musicians until the violin took over its instrumental position in the 18th century. Together with the ensemble InAlto, Lambert Colson takes us to the period of 1500 to 1700 and easily fulfills the virtuoso claim of the time. Lambert Colson received his musical training at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels under Françoise Defours, Pedro Memelsdorff, Bart Coen, Marleen Leicher, Bruce Dickey and Gebhard David. He also studied in Bremen, Basel, and Barcelona. He has worked with ensembles of the calibre of Les Talens lyriques, Le Parlement de Musique, Scherzi Musicali, Les Paladins, and Le Poème Harmonique. As a musician and researcher, he has contributed to journals including La pensée de midi, and is involved with the Royaumont Foundation, where he teaches on Lutheran music in the Holy Roman Empire. Several contemporary composers, including Zad Moultaka, Fabrice Fitch und Bernard Foccroulle, have been inspired by Lambert’s boundless enthusiasm for learning more about his instrument to dedicate pieces to him. His interest in innovative joint projects led Lambert to discover hypnosis while working with the choreographer Catherine Contour.

The first thing you're likely to notice on hearing the opening of Telemann's Overture in D major is the wonderful richness of the sound--the painter's palette of color and the way the composer uses his fairly standard instrumental forces to create such hearer-friendly music. Joyful to its core, this is music whose sole purpose must be to engage, entertain, and uplift the spirits of those it touches. It's not profound or even particularly "original" in the sense of bearing obvious personal creative marks of its composer, but it's certainly inventive and artful as music of this caliber and effect must be.


In spite of the huge shadow of Bach that today reaches every corner of the German Baroque, in the first half of the 18th century Telemann (who was nearly an exact contemporary of Johann Sebastian) carved his own very successful niche and indeed wrote more than 200 orchestral suites that by their relative directness, simplicity, superb melodies, infectious rhythms, and clearly drawn, ear-pleasing textures attracted the attention and respect of musicians and audiences all over Germany. Because he offered public concerts and oversaw publication of his own music, and because he wrote not only for professionals but for amateur musicans as well, Telemann's popularity reached far beyond the courts and churches. On hearing these suites, so expertly and energetically played, it's easy to understand their immediate appeal--which works just as successfully today as it must have back then.


And just when you think you can't be charmed or impressed any more after the opening work, the overture of the F major suite takes over, with its brilliant horns and lively theme--and it just gets better from there, with no letup through the suite's concluding fanfare, again with horns blazing and a rhythm so assertive that you just can't help feeling it. Telemann's individuality is evident in the more programmatic sections and "character" movements such as "réjouissance" (rejoicing) or "les irrésoluts" (the indecisive) or "les capricieuses" (the capricious). And where did this orchestra, Il Fondamento, come from? Performing on period instruments, this group of Flemish musicians, directed by oboist Paul Dombrecht, was formed in 1989, and it's obvious that these players have spent a considerable portion of the past 10 years honing their ensemble skills and refining their understanding of the 17th and 18th century repertoire in which they specialize. This is terrific playing by any standard--and the vibrant, right-in-the-room sound catches every crisp articulation and singular timbre. [2/19/2001]
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Baroque oboist and director of Il Fondamento Paul Dombrecht, has already issued a stylishly played disc of oboe/oboe d'amore concertos by Telemann (Vanguard 2/96). Now he and his band follow it with a programm of three orchestral suites by the same composer, each scored for a pair of oboes, bassoon and strings with continuo. Telemann's feeling for dance rhythms and the unfailingly attractive instrumental colours with which he clothes them seldom disappoint either the innocent or the informed ear. To the best of my knowledge, none of the works presented here has been commercially recorded until now, and each contains dances representative of Telemann's most beguiling manner. The playing of Il Fondamento is very good. The programm is splendidly realized and pleasantly recorded. Recommended.

-- Gramophone 10/1987

Il Fondamento is a Dutch historical-instrument orchestra, formed in 1989. It recorded this collection of suites in 1996, and it's here reissued on Belgium's Passacaille label with its original, unedited booklet notes; the reader learns that in the 18th century, the suite "became the more poplar counterpart of the learned symphony or sonata." The disc's chief value lies in the repertoire; the three suites are conceptually interesting and aren't terribly common. The Overture "La Bourse" (The Stock Exchange) referred to in the album's title received its name from a later editor, but the movement titles, including the intriguing "L'espérance de Mississippi" (The Hope of Mississippi, track 6), refer to stock-exchange phenomena, and the work apparently dates from a period in the 1710s during which Telemann lived in an apartment above the Frankfurt stock exchange. Some of Telemann's music is ingeniously programmatic, but it's hard for the general listener to hear any trace of Mississippi in the final movement, or in the rest of them, possibly excepting the second movement, the lively "Le repos interrompu" (The Interrupted Rest). Yet the study of the signs contained in Telemann's music is still in its infancy, and there are intriguing things here for the Telemann lover interested in trying to figure out why he structured individual pieces the way he did. The following Suite in G minor is conceptually at the opposite extreme, with no descriptive titles at all, while the final Suite in C major is a mixture, with a portrait of boisterous students in "Les étudiants gaillards" (track 17) along with various French dances. The other point of interest is the orchestration, with solo parts for paired oboes and a bassoon throughout. These sections are consistently inventive, and the crisp, dryly humorous playing by the winds, who include group leader Paul Dombrecht on oboe, is a major point in the performance's favor. The trend since the album's original release has been toward a slightly smaller group and more muscular sound in Telemann instead of the smooth string playing heard here, but this 1990s recording continues to hold up well and belongs in collections of Telemann's music. Notes are in English, French, and German.

-- James Manheim, AllMusic Guide

Classical Music

Classical Music

ZELENKA Requiem in c, ZWV 48. Miserere in c, ZWV 57. De profundis in d, ZWV 57 • Paul Dombrecht, cond; Monika Frimmer (sop); Peter de Groot (alt); Ian Honeyman (ten); Peter Kooij (bs); II Fondamento (period instruments) • PASSACAILLE 9528 67:44 Text and Translation)

ZELENKA Overture in F. Hipochondrie in A. Concerto in G. Simphonia in a • Paul Dombrecht, cond; Il Fondamento (period instruments) • PASSACAILLE 9524 (66:22)

Despite being elevated by some to near-cult status, Jan Dismas Zelenka remains an enigmatic figure. Little more than the bare outlines are known of a career marked by the ultimate disappointment of being passed over for the post of Kapellmeister in Dresden in favor of Johann Hasse, 20 years his junior. Of his personality we know next to nothing, leaving us puzzled by a man whose music can be variously termed idiosyncratic, highly individual, or just plain eccentric according to taste. Was Zelenka therefore a great original genius of the High Baroque, plowing his own lonely furrow, or simply a composer of bizarre curiosities? Paul Dombrecht has recently been involved with a selection of both the sacred and secular works of Zelenka, so he seemed a good man to approach for an opinion. "He is certainly a very individual composer," Dombrecht told me, "and difficult to categorize or place within any particular school. In Dresden he worked alongside people like Heinichen, Pisendel, and later Hasse, and he has a much more personal style than any of them. It could be that for this reason he was not really successful." "Yes, I've often wondered to what extent his unusual style played a part in the decision to appoint Hasse Kapellmeister in Dresden after the death of Heinichen. After all, he had been for some years." "It could be that, or it might have been his personality. We just don't know."

No better example of the originality of Zelenka's style could be found than the Miserere in C Minor recorded by Dombrecht, a work that, as he points out, consists of an amalgam of several styles. "In the Miserere Zelenka is mixing styles in quite strange and sudden ways. You have this very dramatic opening, then a fugal section in which he gets through a long section of text very quickly, often overlapping it. The next section [the first part of the Gloria, a florid soprano solo] is again in a completely different style. It could be taken from an opera." Indeed it could, the style that springs to mind being that of Hasse, the man who blocked Zelenka's progress in Dresden. That fugal section strikes me, like some of Zelenka's other contrapuntal sections, to be the kind of passage that arouses doubts about Zelenka, writing in which the odd melodic angularity seems awkward. I asked Dombrecht if he agreed. "Yes, that's one of the reasons why he is not always appreciated. It's the same with the trio sonatas—they look very complex, and there are those who say the music is not well constructed." Yet there are, of course, others to whom the composer's compelling originality overrides such doubts, and it is always worth recalling that C. P. E. Bach claimed that his father held Zelenka's music in high esteem. For evidence that the Bohemian was a highly accomplished contrapuntist, one need turn no further than the "Tu suscipe" section of the C-Minor Requiem, an a cappella setting in the stile antico. As Dombrecht pointed out, such accomplishment doubtless dates from the period Zelenka spent in Vienna as a pupil of the great contrapuntist J. J. Fux, this, remarkably, when the former was already in his mid-thirties. "For me," Dombrecht concluded, "it is the obvious sincerity of the manner in which Zelenka uses such devices that makes him so interesting."

The seven works recorded by Dombrecht provide a representative cross-section of Zelenka's sacred and orchestral works spanning a period from 1723 to 1738. The earliest are the four orchestral works, all of which are dated 1723, the year in which Zelenka traveled to Prague with a group of Dresden musicians for the coronation of Charles VI. In addition to ceremonial vocal works by Zelenka himself and Fux, it is known that the former composed six orchestral works that no doubt played their part in the festivities. The four chosen by Dombrecht graphically illustrate not only Zelenka's originality but the diversity of style to be found throughout the composer's works. The Overture in F is cast in suite form, with an opening French overture full of grandeur, the mixture of dotted chordal writing interposed with a melodic motif that characteristically refuses to go in quite the expected direction. The Aria that follows is equally notable, its graceful surface disconcertingly disrupted by minor inflections and surprising harmonic progressions. Here, as in some of the other dance movements, there are moments that suggest the composer has taken a distorting mirror to a world of the courtly and elegant.

The G-Major Concerto inhabits another world, that of the concerto con molti stromenti, imported from Venice via Vivaldi, and enthusiastically adopted by Zelenka's Dresden colleagues, Heinichen and Pisendel. Yet if the strong opening unison reminds us of the Venetian master, the folklike melody that follows is archetypal Zelenka, as is the plaintive oboe and bassoon dialog that forms the heart of the succeeding Largo cantabile. The oddly named Hipocondrie is a single-movement work, a broad, melodic Lentement framing a central Allegro much concerned with antiphonal imitative effects and contrasts of instrumental color. The considerably truncated return of the slow opening brings yet another Zelenka surprise, the unexpected turn to the minor, with stabbing bass chords bringing the work to a somber close. In some ways the Simphonie is the most conventional work here, but there is nothing ordinary about the burst of exuberant abandon with which the composer launches into the opening Allegro. In this, arguably the most appealing of these orchestral works, the succeeding movements introduce much felicitous concertante writing, often for pairs of instruments. Especially memorable is the Andante's conversation between violin and oboe conducted over a bubbling bassoon figuration. Il Fondamento's performances of all these works are impeccable, the many solo concertino passage played with stylish confidence and unfailing technical expertise, while Dombrecht captures the spirit of Zelenka impressively, allowing full rein to the phrasing of his often oddly shaped melodies, and directing the more boisterous movements with energetic verve.

The disc of sacred music is equally outstanding, the instrumental forces of II Fondamento here complemented by a small (16 voices) but accomplished, eagerly responsive chorus, and a fine lineup of soloists among whom the vastly experienced and ever-dependable Peter Kooij particularly stands out. The earliest of these works is the De profundis, composed as a commemorative work around 1724. The work reflects not only the solemnity of the occasion but also the opening words of the Psalm (130): "Out of the deep. . . ." A dark-hued orchestral introduction leads to a setting of the opening lines for three solo basses, music of painful beauty set over an inexorable walking bass. The gravity of the music is further underlined by the three trombones that punctuate the chorus's succeeding "Si iniquitates," while the central section is given to the tenor and alto soloists, the expansive melismatic lines counterpoised by an obbligato oboe. After Zelenka was appointed court chapel conductor in 1732 his output of church compositions increased, one of the first results being the C-Minor Requiem, believed to date from that year. This too was composed for a commemoration, an annual ritual held in Dresden in memory of the death of Emperor Joseph I. Rather surprisingly for a work that had to be fitted into a complete framework lasting no more than an hour, Zelenka set the whole of the Requiem text. With the exception of the "Liber scriptus" (a lovely setting for solo tenor and bass) and the Benedictus, each of the 22 sections is very short, even further concision being achieved by telescoping the text in the long Sequence. Despite some striking moments, the effect of a succession of movements lasting an average of barely two minutes is less than totally satisfactory. But as ever with Zelenka there is some striking orchestration, not least for the chalumeau, which appears in several sections of the Sequence.

Composed in 1738, the Miserere in C Minor is the latest and in some ways most impressive of these works, despite the caveat mentioned in the introduction to this review. The pounding bass introduction over which dissonance is piled on dissonance exerts an extraordinarily powerful impression on the listener, the kind of writing that immediately grabs the attention and makes one think: Yes, this is the work of a true original who has something startling and dramatic to say. While they cannot solve the Zelenka enigma, hearing these two discs in conjunction does provide an unusual opportunity to move just that little closer to this hugely talented, mysterious figure. Sadly, the presentation fails match the outstanding quality of the performances and engineering, the note accompanying the disc of sacred works being inadequate and confused, while both sets of notes have been poorly proofread.

Brian Robins, Fanfare [9/2000]

Until well into the eighteenth century the horn was, with few exceptions, associated with hunting music. Only gradually did it find its way into orchestras and was played as a solo and orchestral instrument. On this new release, the young hornist Alessandro Denabian takes us on a journey into the early years of horn music, which is not limited to hunting motifs, and plays works by Luigi Cherubini, Anton Reicha and Louis Dauprat. Alessandro Denabian's style, technique and repertoire pushes him far beyond the norm on both the natural and modern horn. His formidable range of repertoire starts in the 18th century, performing on historical instruments and moves seamlessly through the romantic period, to the most challenging contemporary music. He is a versatile performer, comfortable in many different situations including recitals, solo concertos, chamber music and orchestral repertoire and he has toured extensively in Europe, USA, Mexico, Russia, Israel, Japan, South Korea and China.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Vivaldi still dominates the picture of Venetian musical life, even though there were almost equal contemporaries there. Among them are currently hardly common names like Giorgio Gentili or Johann Friedrich Schreyvogel. Mensa Sonora gives the works of these composers a new platform on their recording and also an insight into the music culture of the Serenissima beyond the paths of the 'red priest'. Mensa Sonora, an early music ensemble founded in Deux-Sèvres by Jean Maillet, its musical director for 25 years, set out to introduce the public to forgotten composers and their unknown or unpublished works. Since 2015, Gabriel Grosbard and Matthieu Boutineau, both from Niort and both musicians working in the biggest French ensembles, are the new artistic directors of this ensemble. Armed with the history of Mensa Sonora, which has been performing since 1989, and their experience gained, especially within the ensemble, they are keen to continue this research work, while continuing the task of bringing ancient to all audiences.

This Chansonnier, which is how Tasto Solo and Guilleromo P�rez imagine this CD, offers a selection of most extraordinary ballades and rondeaux by Binchois and Dufay, in addition to compositions by Ciconia and Dunstable - the two great precursors of the so-called Franco-Flemish style - and other, perhaps less well-known though inspired composers such as Bruolo and Bedyngham.The acclaimed ensemble Tasto Solo claims and re-discovers virtuosic and highly refined musical repertoires from the 14th-15th centuries. Where gothic keyboard instruments became the cornerstone.

LA VOCE DEL VIOLONCELLO: Solo Works of the First Italian Cellist-Composers • Elinor Frey (vc); Esteban la Rotta (thb, gtr); Susie Napper (vc) • PASSACAILLE 993 (61:05)


Works by: ANONYMOUS, COLOMBI, G. M. DALL’ABACO, SUPRIANI, GALLI, VITALI, RUVO, D. GABRIELLI


“First Italian cellist-composers” is pushing matters just a bit, given that, as Elinor Frey mentions, her recording spans roughly 75 years of music. It concludes with Giuseppe Maria Dall’Abaco, who was born in 1710 and died in 1805. But suffice to say, the disc furnishes an entertaining and varied program that features ricercars (Gabrielli), folk-like dances (Ruvo), bravura variations over ostinato basses (Vitali), Corelli-influenced sonatas (Galli), and a study in demonic virtuosity (Supriani). Most of the 22 selections are solos, though three selections are accompanied by theorbo, one by Baroque guitar, and two with continuo furnished by theorbo and a second baroque cello.


The Baroque cello Frey uses isn’t identified in her notes, though she writes sensibly of the different tunings she uses that were employed by composers in different geographical areas, and the underhand bow grip she’s adopted for the earlier music thanks to period depictions of cello performance. The instrument itself sounds like a good period copy: exceptionally resonant, very dark and smooth in coloration. In live performance the Baroque cello wouldn’t have the sheer penetrative volume to rise above a chamber orchestra, much less a full 20th-century one. On a record, of course, you have all the volume you want, and combined with her carefully accented phrasing, a repertoire of seldom heard music, gloriously interpreted, springs to life. Frey is clearly a performer who enjoys the music she plays, and communicates that enthusiasm to her audience well.


I have one regret where this album is concerned. The variation sets over ostinato basses are very short, and in the fashion of such music, gather their own energy through repetition and transformation; but here, they seem to end almost before they’ve begun. It was the custom yet in the period that musicians would be expected in some works to furnish their own additional variations (and ornaments) beyond those supplied by the composer; and Vitali’s three pieces on this disc call out for this treatment. Given the disc’s length, it needn’t even have interfered with what is already present, and Frey could have repeated these pieces, with her own additions, on separate bands.


But that is a relatively small cavil. The music never fails to entertain, and Frey’s playing never fails to delight. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

This disc impressively documents the art of the cornett and the brilliance of the cornettists of the time around 1600.

The cornett was one of the most celebrated instruments in the 16th century and the first half of the 17th century. It was played across Europe. In Italy it was held in high esteem, and here some of the best and most virtuosic players were active. When independent instrumental music emerged in the early 17th century the cornett experienced strong competition from the violin; the instruments were often considered alternatives. One of the reasons for the cornett's reputation was that it was considered closest to the human voice.
 
In the 16th century the cornett - like other instruments - was used in church to support or replace the voice. Towards the end of the century solo music for the cornett came into existence, in particular diminutions (or divisions) on one or more parts from sacred or secular vocal pieces. Girolamo Dalla Casa, who in 1568 founded the first instrumental ensemble in the San Marco in Venice, wrote an important treatise on the art of ornamentation, or - as he called it - la bella Minuta. In this book, Il vero modo di diminuir (1584), he laid down his esthetic ideals: "[Let] everyone strive to make a nice sound, lovely articulations, and beautiful divisions, and to imitate the human voice as much as possible". In the next decades numerous sets of divisions were composed, by the likes of Giovanni Bassano, Giovanni Battista Bovicelli and Francesco Rognoni. In his own divisions on Josquin's Mille regretz and Palestrina's motet Nigra sum Bruce Dickey makes use of ideas which were written down in treatises or demonstrated in compositions by several of these masters.
 
The programme of this disc includes only a small number of diminutions. The largest part is devoted to other genres of music, which were mostly not specifically written for the cornett or not even for treble instruments, but can be perfectly played on it. The pieces by Mayone and Trabaci are for keyboard, but here they are mostly performed with the cornett playing the often florid upper part. Considering the flexibility of composers of that time in regard to scoring there is no objection to this practice. Gioseffo Guami did not indicate any specific scoring for his canzonas, and here they are played by Dickey with either the organ or an ensemble of three gambas and harp. The combination of organ and cornett works particularly well and was frequently practised at the time. It was called "playing in the organ", and as the cornett and the organ are both wind instruments the cornett sounds like a stop of the organ. In these pieces Dickey has added some ornaments of his own, as was expected from performers.
 
That includes singers: they were supposed to add their own ornaments to the music as it was written down. Not every singer had the necessary skills to do so. This explains that Bartolomeo Barbarino published a collection of solo motets with ornamented and unornamented versions printed side by side. This way they can be sung by singers with various skills: the least-skilled can sing the unornamented versions, the better ones can perform the ornamented versions and the very best can sing the unornamented versions and add divisions of their own. By including various motets Dickey emphasizes the connection between the cornett and the human voice.
 
The programme is played in the basilica of Santa Barbara in Mantua which has two balconies, one with an 16th-century organ. Both balconies are used. The pieces with cornett and organ are performed in the organ loft while the other loft accommodates the cornett with gambas and harp. Two pieces by Guami are set for two groups: L'Accorta and the Canzon XXV a 8. Here we get a nice dialogue between the organ and the other instruments at the opposing balcony. It has to be said, though, that a part of the music played here was very likely never performed in church; rather in the more intimate surroundings of the palaces of the aristocracy. In his liner-notes Dickey gives an interesting example of a player who played with a harpsichord which was completely closed and was still able to play so softly that the cornett didn't exceed the sound of the harpsichord. Luzzaschi's madrigal O primavera is played with harp only to give some impression of what it could have been like, but in this acoustic that doesn't really come off.
 
Let us not be too picky, though. This is simply a brilliant recording. I find this music endlessly fascinating and can listen to it for hours, because of its versatility, the huge variety in ornamentation and the gorgeous sound of the instruments. Moreover, Bruce Dickey once again proves to be the king of all cornettists. His technical prowess is astonishing, and in every piece he shows his thorough knowledge of the repertoire and of period performance practice. The extensive splendid liner-notes bear witness to that as well. Liuwe Tamminga is an expert in Italian organ music of the 16th and 17th century and displays the various colours of the organ in an undemonstrative way. The harp adds a special flavour to this recording and the three gambas produce a warm sound which blends perfectly with cornett and harp.
 
This disc impressively documents the art of the cornett and the brilliance of the cornettists of the time around 1600.
 
-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International

Jean Philippe Rameau, one of the most important French composers and music theorists of the Baroque era, published the Pieces de clavecin en concerts in 1741. This overall work is five concerts of chamber music, the only of its kind by Rameau. il Gardellino felt it was very important to keep the main role in the recordings to the harpsichord, played by Sungyun Cho. The musican's did, however, take some freedom of using the flute and violin together to create more colors and a beautiful orchestral effect. Other featured members of il Gardellino include Jan De Winne (flute), Kaori Uemura (viola da gamba), and Ryo Terakado (violin).