Archiv as a label, at least in the 1980s when I discovered them, had some class and authority. They were publishing some really good artists (MAK, English Concert) and good music. You can’t blame a company for marketing a product, but come on… the packing does no good in letting folks know anything useful about the music. “Why these concertos?”

I’m one of the suckers that bought this up. Must have a been a slow month for Vivaldi.

VBO is one of those period orchestras that plays with at least a few people to a part: 4/4/2/2/1/1/1, plenty rich in continuo, and at a so-called Venetian pitch, 440 Hz. They never impress me; it’s not that they are bad, but let’s be honest: they’re used/abused as a backup band. They play all the right notes, but the musical direction lacks any outstanding feature. That’s not necessarily bad, just safe.

Just let it be known, just because they’re Italians doesn’t mean they make the same kind of impact as IGA (il Giardino Armonico) or Europa Galante.

Carmignola’s contribution here isn’t bad, but he still remains my NJFV (Not John’s Favorite Violinist), however hard he tries. What really rubbed me foully wasn’t the music at all, but again the marketers. They hired the infamous Olivier Fourés to write the liner notes, which granted are translated, but are so chock full of modifiers and $25 words that the music cannot compete.

So vast a corpus represents the most monumental collection of violin works in the whole history of music…

Really? He later tells us that so many of Vivaldi’s works aren’t heard today; even later, he admits that the music on this record hasn’t even been recorded before. That has some shock value, for sure, but let’s be honest. What are the reasons these works haven’t been recorded before, sir? Is it they were just found? Or is it because they are simply too difficult to play? (Or maybe, just maybe, they aren’t as strong as the hundreds of others that have been recorded–just maybe.)

Here’s another money quote:

The diversity of the writing is little short of phenomenal: RV 217 begins with a fugato, RV 325 exploits the device of echo effects…

Phenomenal trash, indeed. RV 217 is certainly not one of Vivaldi’s strongest works; it comes across to my ears in what I might term Vivaldi’s modern style, which wasn’t his strongest period. The writing is lighter, but the main themes are anemic against the mostly high-pitched solo passages. Starting with a theme, a so-called “fugato” isn’t that unusual in Vivaldi, and I’d hardly label it as diverse. Echo effects? They come a dime a dozen in baroque music, Vivaldi included.

After reading all the liner notes, you feel as if you have stumbled upon some of the world’s most fascinating musical treasures. Treasures or not, the playing doesn’t match the hype either. The aforementioned RV 217’s slow movement, for instance, gives space for highlighting affect from the orchestra, but instead, the poor saps have to play almost academically, to allow “room” for affect from soloist Carmignola. His playing, in turn, comes across as sappy, despite the technical achievement and a nice sound.

While the album highlights Vivaldi’s lesser known concerti, the music isn’t as consistently bad as my mood might portray. But every piece, and within the collection, every movement, isn’t as extraordinary and monumental as the DG marketers might pay Mr. Fourés have you believe.

Despite playing on historical instruments, the DG Archiv folks ought to have been more honest with us. Let the VBO breathe somewhat; let natural balance prevail (instead of the ultra-close miking of Mr. Carmignola), and for goodness sake, lay off the honey when providing liner notes.

There’s an old adage that Vivaldi didn’t write hundreds of concertos. He instead wrote one: and simply arranged it multiple times. That’s both unfair to Vivaldi and to musical history. But Vivaldi’s formulaic writing takes on reference when Fourés quoted Vivaldi as saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, “I can write concertos faster than copyists can copy them out.” Indeed. RV 303 is such an example. The solo writing is nice, but the overall form of the work does take on the stench of something re-worked. It’s a method that might have worked when touting your wares in a new city traveling, but here, it’s almost an embarrassment.

The only way I can think any audience would have cared for RV 303 was that the themes were hum-worthy, lifted almost verbatim from one of Vivaldi’s dramatic productions. While Carmingnola and friends wager that we might simply notice the stronger solo writing and ignore the weak themes, I can’t help but loathe the slow movements, which are all too often played too slowly and milked inside the microphone, leaving behind a saccharine sweet aftertaste.

For something new as background music, knock yourself out. For a Vivaldi enthusiast, you won’t miss much here.

The ethics on that aside…

The performances are on original instruments and are, for the most part, very polished. Not terribly much creativity went into the video portion of the production, however. But I’ll get to that.

The performances are for the most part quick-tempoed, but without a lot of flexibility in tempo. The playing is clean, but the recording leaves a lot of detail out (for instance, you look at some players and you could swear you don’t hear a peep out of them!). The recording might have been better with closer miking. While the performances are good, they leave a little out in terms of spontaneity. The most interesting person to watch is von der Goltz, the leader, who takes the lead in Concertos 4 and 5.

The video is shot inside a large ballroom, and while the camera work does a lot to show us both close-ups and wide-angle shots, the performers look quite uninterested. And that leads to a flat video. The horn players look bored. Karl Kaiser (flute) hardly ever looks at von der Goltz. While the video was likely shot in the last days of 1999, in a more contemporary setting, I would have liked to have seen them wear more casual clothes, and perhaps even be interviewed about the works. When videos of classical music are made, we shouldn’t ignore the rich medium of video… either capture a live performance with an audience, or else help us learn about the music with a story: either the music’s history, or the challenges of performing the music.

In the end, there are better recordings of Bach’s Brandenburg Concerti available. I didn’t have one by the FBO, so I justified buying the DVD. There aren’t terribly many available on period instruments, so… you may want to check out the YouTube versions to see if there’s value in it for you. I’ve greatly admired the playing of the FBO and FBO consort in the past, and here they don’t necessarily disappoint. But with the media of video and such familiar works, I expected a little more daring or visual interest. Not every DVD needs to go to the lengths of the overly dramatic presentations by Il Giardino Armonico in their excellent DVDs, but as said, something here more could have been said musically, if not visually.

The documentary was a good background into Keith, including his own personal history, and an overview of his own musical accomplishments. He made quite a distinction between playing jazz, or in his solo concerts, where the music “comes through him,” versus playing classical music, a far less strenuous process. While the question isn’t asked directly, they do allude to his “singing” and noisemaking in jazz vs. his classical performances. He explained this the same way, as the music “going through you,” and the noises simply a side effect of the process.

Listening to his recording now of his Handel Suites on piano, they sound flat yet clean and steady (rhythmically). I found his WTC 1 by Bach to be similar, although the piano in this recording is a couple notches better. Someone with such genius ought to be able to say more through the baroque masters than he does. But then again, maybe that’s his point.

So, while his baroque forays aren’t my favorite recordings, and his own orchestral content I like even less, I’m nevertheless now better educated about the man behind his incredible solo concerts and the better-than-none standards trio.

The hour of music explores mostly works from Vivaldi’s first two opuses, including the famous La Follia trio sonata, not to mention RV 28, a work in G minor that was believed to have been written for the Dresden-based violinist, Pisendel.

These works aren’t entirely new to me, having access to some by other performers. In fact, the famous La Follia sonata was performed earlier by Onofri’s other ensemble, Il Giardino Armonico, under the directorship of Giovanni Antonini.

Onofri’s other releases have been stunning, to say the least. Onfori remains to my ears and eyes one of the most affective players I ever witnessed live. The sound on this recording is its worst attribute. The instruments all take on a silvery, metallic sheen, despite the performer’s use of historic instruments. It’s the recording venue that lends the sound. It’s not entirely off-putting. The use of harp in the continuo and a crisp cembalo also help portray the music in its shimmery, metallic presentation. Nevertheless, I get the sense with listening both in the car and with good-quality headphones that the balance wasn’t quite right for this recording… with the violin and a single continuo instrument, the sound is thin, and combined with a fuller complement of instrumentation, the violin doesn’t always rise to the top of the texture.

Having heard some of these works before, I appreciate Onofri & Co.’s interpretations. They aren’t always superior, but they often add another dimension to the music, a freshness if you will. It can be found in the dynamic treatment of a single note or an entire passage, it might also be found in some creative ornamentation. Onofri’s signature schtick is on tap here, that very slow vibrato on long notes that simple makes the music sing in that irresistible way, adding a richness where there ought to be nothing but a single thin note.

Onofri doesn’t play with the music quite as hard as Fabio Biondi might, for the sake of being different. But his new interpretation of RV 63 (La Follia) is something curious. On a recording level, I prefer the earlier 1990s recording by IGA. For the interpretation, again IGA wins. But there is still merit on this reading, somehow more transparent, sparkling, and in many ways, far more elegant. If the earlier reading on Teldec was rustic and athletic, this one is fancy and lighter. There is still drama in this version, but from different players (in one case, a chromatic swipe across the harp wakes you up plenty well).

I of course recommend this new recording, but I also recognize that it is not as strong a release as Onofri’s earlier Voce nel Violino with the same ensemble. And after listening several times, I wonder what I’d be saying if the qualities of the recording–and not the performances–had been improved. My most enjoyable listening was via headphones, where you can hear the textual ramblings of the harp and other facets of intricate fast notes. It is an attractive release, even more so if your collection currently doesn’t include other offerings from Vivaldi’s opp. 1 & 2.

I can’t recommend the movie enough – it was wonderful. If you’ve seen pictures or portraits of Glass, he often looks hard, cold, and unapproachable. The composer however in the film is funny, very human, and likable. The documentary follows him on several projects and is divided into “12 parts,” a play on one of his own compositions.

We meet his family, friends, colleagues, and we get a sense of what being a professional composer in the 21st century is like. He also get to see a little bit about what makes Glass tick: his spiritual journey with eastern teachings, from Buddhism to tai chi masters.

What I thought was interesting from a practical perspective is how Glass writes his music: at a bench with two rulers, pencils, and paper. At his side, a piano. He later hires people to sequence his music into a computer, where it can be listened to, and where changes can be made. The composer seems very open to making changes to what others tell him. For someone who used to study music composition, I found it fascinating.

In one scene, Glass travels to Germany to see the premier of a new opera, Barbarians. From his hotel room, he has a MacBook and an iSight camera, which he’s using to talk to his wife and his son. The room has a piano in it, and the son wants to hear his dad play something on that piano. So, Glass hands the iSight to the documenter, and he walks over to the piano and plays a few chords, riffs if you will.

Fascinating. His little fanciful noisemaking wasn’t anything like his own music…

Having wanted to hear some sonats this evening by Fontana, and noting that my computer had deleted this CD from my library, I re-imported this disc by Romanesca. I think it’s the last, if not very close to the last, CD the group has recorded. I have a feeling they have split (who knows for how long). For when these three musicians did play together, they were quite good at what they did. This CD has received very (very) favorable press from magazines and reviewers since it was release some 4 years ago. I still remember where I bought this… I had known it was coming out, and anxiously ran home to hear it once I had obtained it. Okay, I had to fly home (I was in Boston at the time) but it includes some “stylus fantasicus” style sonatas from early Italian baroque composers, including one of my favorites: Castello.

The combination of lute and harpsichord is odd. I’ve always thought it a bit strange compared to organ and archlute, or harpsichord and cello. From the baroque, some treatises tell you never to mix the two, others… well, document it was done. Funny thing, people did what they felt like, and nowadays historically-informed performers do much the same.

It’s this attitude that has earned Romanesca, and espcially the violinist Manze such fame… The first thing you have to get “used to” aside from the lute/harpsichord pairing is the violin tone by Manze. It’s not my… favorite, but it’s very distinct. You could pick him out of 10 violinists. I have to say, that can be hard to do, and he deserves some credit for finding his own sound. I wonder though, what he’d sound like on a different instrument. For people who don’t like violin (and contrary to one review which commented upon Manze’s rendition of a Frescobaldi piece), there are two tracks devoted to the other players: a Frescobaldi variations piece for harpsichord, and a lute piece by Piccinini. A third offering comes in the form of a duet between chamber organ and lute. A very powerful piece by Kapsberger (another favorite composer for the lute). And of course there’s 2 sonatas by my friend Fontana, which I also own in a recording by Sonnerie with Monica Huggett.

The Kapsberger, two Castello sonatas, and the final Sonata La Sfondrata by Corradini are worth purchasing the CD for. I’ve never seen Manze play live, but I imagine he’s an affective player. What I think is lacking in his performances (and alive in others of simliar or the same music) is affective treatments in slower, simpler material the sonatas offer the performer. For instance, the opening of the Fontana sixth sonata is just a bit… boring. There’s a lack of direction in the line. I like the fact he’s not vibrating, but… certainly some sort of embellishment on these naked tones might be used to gather our attention.

The close mike used in the recording (especially so to the violin) also I think hurts the violinist. It’s real close, and the quality is great, but… the violin ends up sounding a bit dry. A little more acoustic space, I gather, would suit my taste more. Comparing this Fontana sonata to Monica Huggett: she uses lute and harpsichord as her side kicks, but her shape of line, I think, is a much better way to interpret this music. Also, I get the impression her change in tempi and styles so quickly throughout the sonata capture the real nature of the “stylus phantasicus,” basically, a mixed up collection of contrasting ideas in one large movement. Later, composers split these contrasts up, and today we have a canon of music that makes use of stops between “movements.”

In conclusion, there’s great music here. And it’s very well played, don’t get me wrong. I only feel stylistically it could use some help. More zest in places, more repose in others; in some cases, I feel maybe it is just a bit too rehearsed. It’s hard to hold this against anyone. Just feel in a few places I got 1% milk when I paid for half-and-half. Written in January, 2003.

This was originally reviewed in January, 2003.

This was an interesting collection to put together. Kind of like I was a famous musician, and you went poking around in my CD collection… well, not quite, but you get the idea. Represented are Frescobaldi, Johann Michael Bach, Johann Pachelbel, Johann Reincken, J. Rosenmüller, Fraçois Dieupart, Buxtehude, and of course, JS Bach. Wait, this is a 2-CD set. We also get more modern works by Albinoni, Raison, De Grigny, and then another generation back to d’Angelbert. It’s not surprising to see so much keyboard music.

One JM Bach cantata performed by soprano Salome Haller is well done. Hearing cornetto in the mix is a bit strange, but who am I to challenge authenticity of Johann Michael Bach works… The recorded sound is not the very best, but I really admire the ornamentation that sounds very appropriate from the soloist.

The ciaccona by Pachelbel reminds one of the opening of Bach’s great Passacaglia in C minor for organ. The inspiration for the idea? Who knows. What is very interesting about this release is the separation of nationalistic styles that found a mixture in the works of JS Bach. Unfortunately, our good violinist gets drowned out too often by the louder instruments (bassoon, cornett, etc.) I enjoyed hearing a sonata by Fux that included trombone. I am not sure this was the original instrumentation or not, but this music sounds so far removed from the works of Bach.

The violin sonata by Albinoni is a perfect example of why this recording suffers: great playing by a baroque violinist (Amandine Beyer) with a sickly thin tone that is no doubt the result of poor microphone placement. Good baroque keyboard instruments are used (harpsichord – Bruce Kennedy) and three separate recording locations were required for this CD set (harpsichord, organ, and ensemble).

While all the music in this collection is not arresting, this is an indispensable release for those interested in the life and music of Johann Sebastian Bach.

(After reading through this review that is now over 7 years old, I find in my collection some recordings by Amandine Beyer and have enjoyed them, such as her recording by Matteis. This recording is still in my rotation, although I typically pick and choose one or two works at one time.)

This collection came out in 1994, and was recently reviewed by Jack here. Looking into the biberfan archives, I couldn’t find my own review. Perhaps I never reviewed it!

(Okay, small confession. I am not terribly organized with all of my reviews. I found references to this recording in a July, 2001 blog entry, where I was talking about ripping the recording onto a new hard drive I had procured. But, I made no reference to a review of the recording, proper.)

I recall buying this recording in Rochester, NY, at a Border’s Books and Music. Incidentally, it was from this store that I purchased my first Biber recording (by Andrew Manze and his Romanesca), and from that, I had of course become a fan of Biber. But I digress.

The Locatelli Trio (now more recently called Convivium), is made up of one Australian and two brits. Wallfisch has never been my favorite violinist, but she’s been a prolific recording artist, having a good amount of the baroque violin canon on record. Jack said she was a “conservative” player at times, but I think conservative goes towards the whole lot… Mr. Nicholson plays on both harpsichord and organ positif in this recording, and each track has Mr. Tunnicliffe on cello. The organ has a nice sound, but I wonder after the 16 years now (wow!) since this was recorded, what does the latest scholarship say about mid-century continuo practice in Italy? I’m a small sucker for variety, and while the continuo team here does alternate between the organ and harpsichord, it would have been ideal to offer us a few tracks without any bowed cello, or even some more exotic continuo instruments, such as a lute, clavicembalo, or bass lute.

Jack also said Wallfisch can sound “dry,” but here her tone comes across among the best it has on record, a bit warmer, perhaps. I remember when I got this set, I searched out the music for opus 6, and performed one of the pieces on trombone (it was during the summer, as I recall, and my mother was kind of enough to play the written-out continuo part on piano). If I remember, two lines were provided: an Urtext line and then an embellished version, in the style of Geminani’s treatment of Corelli’s solo sonatas.

I couldn’t help but think tonight as I reflected on this recording that Wallfisch and Company got off easy with only adding a minimalist’s amount of ornaments. She went hog-wild in her reading by the same group on Corelli’s opus 5, using some of the period-, written-out ornamentation. So, it seems that while the ensemble is very technically capable of playing more notes, they took the safe route here without adding their own. The need for them really calls out to us in the slower movements. Instead, all we get is Wallfisch’s weak vibrato.

In all, this is a clean reading of solo sonatas by Tomaso Albinoni, but it is too conservative for the reasons noted above, including:

• a lack of inventive playing,
• dynamic playing (it’s pretty straight),
• a lack of the use of dynamics as an expressive, even an ornamental, tool

Add to that fact that this simply isn’t the world’s best music. I will add that Albinoni isn’t a favorite composer of mine, as I often think of him as a “Vivaldi Lite.” But, these sonatas do have more satisfactory melodies than his concerti. In the hands of amateurs, the slower movements are ideal. But in the hands of professionals, they should have been a playground for more fun than what Locatelli à 3 offered us back in 1994.

I have come to appreciate more Bach’s four suites now after hearing them in increasingly diverse arrangements, this one in particular for four guitars. There’s a real clarity of line when you reduce the scoring to just our instruments. Add to that, a real clarity in the recording, and you have a real winner on your hands.

All the trills are there, and despite the the instruments are a few generations younger, Bach’s music survives with its baroque embellishments with a quite appropriate sound.

I like the sound of guitars, and with Bach’s music so well played, I can’t go wrong. Warmly recommended.

Bach, J.S.: Overture (Suite) Nos. 1-4 (Arr. For Guitar Quartet) (Brazilian Guitar Quartet)

Two “students” of Goebel match with friends for an exciting CD of Biber’s lesser-known violin sonatas. Just listen to the first two minutes of the first track, borrowed from Biber’s better-known 1681 collection, and you know this CD is a real winner. It is sold as a SACD but played back fine on my computer.

Steck has played on many a CD I have with Musica Antiqua Köln, but I’d never heard him as a soloist before; he plays with energy, drama, and tight control. His sound is not as rich as Goebel, but he has a real technical facility and his direction of where these sonatas go is spot-on interesting and brings Biber’s notes up front and close. At times his continuo team can sound heavy, but they play together very well, a very practiced team. Each of the continuo instruments played has an excellent sound, from the crisp harpsichord, to the gamba, and bass lutes.

The interpretations here are the most interesting part of the disc. Steck takes parts where we expect things to go slow, and he takes us through those harmonic progressions, moving us along, exhilarated as we reach the next gesture. In the first sonata, in particular, practically every human emotion is touched upon, from high intense drama, to sweet repose. Each sonata is not as diverse with each turn into a new section, but instead we get wisely chosen tempi and sensitive playing that illuminates the best of what Biber left in ink on paper.

Biber’s Ciacona in D was a work new to me, and opens on the CD with lute and gamba. Then we hear the harpsichord with the plucking mechanism (quills) on. It is an interesting work, as I think any good ciacona is, for allowing a composer to work out a theme and variations over the same, repeated bass. What Biber does differently, perhaps, than other well-known works like this in “D” is emphasize textures. Short punchy notes, then of course passages of notes that rumble and ramble around the core chord progression… it takes some inventiveness from players to make a play on textures work, and this ensemble does well. In the middle, Biber turns on the fireworks, with so many notes going past, you wonder how it’s possible… Steck performs admirably, of course, making those runs sound effortless. In some instances, the ensemble tries its best to deal with Biber’s poor writing; at several intervals, they pause, stop, and resume at a different tempo. Biber maintains the same bass, so they can’t do terribly much here, and I for one would have liked a turn to the minor mode. Instead, Biber gets chromatic on us towards the end; and texture plays out too, with contributions both from the violin soloist and also the continuo. What we’re left with is a candy bar, in essence, that’s a lot of a few things, but so interesting too… smooth in places, really crunchy in others, and in the end, very satisfying.

The Muffat work is certainly not new to many folks reading this, and it’s hard to say how many versions of this venerable work I own. The first, slow section, is played quite admirably here, perhaps it is my favorite reading. The rest of the work, including the odd changes of key, played by the ensemble here, are excellent, a fitting touch to a jewel of a disc.

This is perhaps one of the best Biber recitals I’ve heard in recent months, if not the past year. Highly recommended, Biber fans should not be disappointed.

Originally published in October, 2005.