Reviews and occasional notes on classical music
Reviews and occasional notes on classical music
"Music, both vocall and instrumental, so good, so delectable, so rare, so admirable, so super excellent, that it did even ravish and stupifie all those strangers that never heard the like." - Thomas Coryat, after hearing 3 hours of music at the Scuola di San Rocco in Venice, 1608.
"Music, both vocall and instrumental, so good, so delectable, so rare, so admirable, so super excellent, that it did even ravish and stupifie all those strangers that never heard the like." - Thomas Coryat, after hearing 3 hours of music at the Scuola di San Rocco in Venice, 1608.
Showing posts with label Chaconne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chaconne. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
A fortunate collaboration in a great Country House
Georg Friedrich Handel: Acis and Galatea (1718 version)
Early in the 18th century a group of writers came together in one of London's newly-popular coffee-houses, and began a long satirical collaboration that would eventually result in interesting products in the literary, political and, as we shall see, the musical fields. The members of the Scriblerus Club, who included such big names as Alexander Pope, Jonathan Swift and John Gay, pitched ideas and jokes to each other like a roomful of sitcom writers, with their creation Martinus Scriblerus an early version of Alan Brady or Tracy Jordan. As I learned from a fascinating episode of BBC Radio 4's In Our Time, the death of Queen Anne in 1814 and the fall from power of the Tory Ministers in 1815 scattered the Scriblerus Club members. But they would soon be back.
Meanwhile, Georg Frederic Handel's fortunes as a composer showed peaks and valleys after he settled permanently in Britain in 1712, though always trending more or less up. In 1710 he had been named Kappelmeister to the Elector of Hanover, who became King George I on the death of Queen Anne. A falling-out with the new Sovereign was bad, but things looked much better when he became the fashionable operatic composer in London. Even better, in 1717 his Water Music for George I's barge was a big hit, but fashions turn quickly, and he all at once found himself without a hit in London's operatic world. So he turned from the fickleness of both city and court to a lavish country house that included its own orchestra and singers: James Brydges' (later Duke of Chandos') Cannons, built at a cost of £200,000, worth tens of millions today. There Handel fell in with a group of Scriblerians, themselves looking for a more congenial home after their political/artistic exiles.
The librettists were John Gay, Alexander Pope and John Hughes; the subject was one that Handel had used for an earlier Neapolitan opera, Acis and Galatea, from the story told in Ovid's Metamorphoses. Everything now had an English slant; the project was more like an English masque than an Italian opera. The songs - to very cleverly crafted English words - were sung by English singers. And the Englishness continues to this recording, recorded, by mainly British musicians, I'm sure, at the Church of St Jude-on-the-Hill, Hampstead Garden Suburb in November of 2017. And all for Chaconne, the Early Music marque of Chandos, the label named for the Duke who built Cannons and help bring about some of Handel's greatest music. Acis and Galatea was apparently Handel's most popular work during his lifetime. The clever libretto must surely have played a part here, though Handel's tunes are often sublime, his rhythms infectious, his sad arias heart-breaking and his happy ones uplifting. The opera has most effective advocates here: the two leads, soprano Lucy Crowe as Galatea, and tenor Allan Clayton as Acis, are outstanding, as is the choir. The musicians of the Early Opera Company, led by Christian Curnyn, have a special quality about their playing that one might almost call rustic. It looks back to the masques of Henry Purcell, and ahead to a future collaboration of John Gay with another German composer who settled in England, Johann Christoph Pepusch, The Beggar's Opera from 1728. I had a great deal of fun researching this review - it's what retired librarians do - but even more listening to this music!
This disc will be released on June 1, 2018. Here's the official trailer:
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
An instrument of grace
Nordic Voices sing Victoria: Motets [Amazon.ca link]
Unfortunately I wasn't able to listen to the SACD version of this disc, but the stereo one is stunning enough. It's amazing what a rich and full and immersive sound these three men and women create. Of course they need to share credit with the Chandos engineers, the venue (Ris kirke in Oslo, which provides a rich fullness but without an exaggerated acoustic), and the genius of Tomás Luis de Victoria, who makes the most of the six vocal lines in these Motets. But the blending of these voices is really extraordinary. This music sounds so gorgeous, but I don't believe that's the real goal in these performances. Rather, these find musicians seem to be searching for the emotional and spiritual depths of this super-charged music, and the surface beauty is only a side-effect. This disc will reward deep and careful listening, with pauses for reflection.
"Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help."When May Sarton wrote this she was speaking about gardening which is, she said, "an instrument of grace." She might have been writing about these Motets.
Monday, November 2, 2015
Great music in the calm centre
From March 19, 2015:
Today we expect Historically Informed Performance (HIP) from our Baroque music, and more or less get it in most new recordings. But within HIP’s broad range from the dryly academic to the eccentric, edgy experiments on the fringes there are plenty of opportunities to entertain and inform. The new CD from the reliable Philadelphia Baroque Orchestra, also known as Tempesta di Mare, is on the careful side, but I admire the restraint, good taste and musicianship on display in their program of orchestral music from the French Baroque theatre.
Jean-Fery Rebel’s Les Elements begins with chaos, with music that must have seemed very radical at the time. The music has a startling beginning, with all of the notes of the d minor scale being played at once. This has been called “the first tone cluster in the history of Western art music.” But the point of playing this music today is not to rival an Imax presentation of The Perfect Storm. Rebel says he “used the most widely accepted conventions” in his portrayal of the natural progression from chaos to “the moment when, subject to invariable laws, the elements took their prescribed place in the natural order.” It’s not that the world of the late 1730s knew any less about chaos than we do today; there was if anything less order in world affairs then than now. But on the stage at the French court of Louis XV was a real balance of “the natural order”, even if chaos swirled all around. And this sense of things returning to where they belong is everywhere in Tempesta di Mare’s program, in the music of Lully and Marais as well as Rebel. Distracted as we are by the all the shiny things at the edge, it’s nice to take a break and spend some time in the calm centre.
By the way, has anyone noticed how much the beginning of Rebel’s Le Chaos sounds like the beginning of Bernard Herrmann’s score to Taxi Driver? I find the the similarity striking; perhaps this was an homage from Herrmann.
So here is the Rebel (sorry, the Tempesta di Mare version isn't on Spotify):
And here's the Hermann:
What do you think?
Today we expect Historically Informed Performance (HIP) from our Baroque music, and more or less get it in most new recordings. But within HIP’s broad range from the dryly academic to the eccentric, edgy experiments on the fringes there are plenty of opportunities to entertain and inform. The new CD from the reliable Philadelphia Baroque Orchestra, also known as Tempesta di Mare, is on the careful side, but I admire the restraint, good taste and musicianship on display in their program of orchestral music from the French Baroque theatre.
Jean-Fery Rebel’s Les Elements begins with chaos, with music that must have seemed very radical at the time. The music has a startling beginning, with all of the notes of the d minor scale being played at once. This has been called “the first tone cluster in the history of Western art music.” But the point of playing this music today is not to rival an Imax presentation of The Perfect Storm. Rebel says he “used the most widely accepted conventions” in his portrayal of the natural progression from chaos to “the moment when, subject to invariable laws, the elements took their prescribed place in the natural order.” It’s not that the world of the late 1730s knew any less about chaos than we do today; there was if anything less order in world affairs then than now. But on the stage at the French court of Louis XV was a real balance of “the natural order”, even if chaos swirled all around. And this sense of things returning to where they belong is everywhere in Tempesta di Mare’s program, in the music of Lully and Marais as well as Rebel. Distracted as we are by the all the shiny things at the edge, it’s nice to take a break and spend some time in the calm centre.
By the way, has anyone noticed how much the beginning of Rebel’s Le Chaos sounds like the beginning of Bernard Herrmann’s score to Taxi Driver? I find the the similarity striking; perhaps this was an homage from Herrmann.
So here is the Rebel (sorry, the Tempesta di Mare version isn't on Spotify):
And here's the Hermann:
What do you think?
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