I love music.

I write about the music I like and have purchased for the benefit of better understanding it and sharing my preferences with others.

Libro primo • Lislevand

Libro primo • Lislevand

In this album from lutenist Rolf Lislevand comes a recital of pieces from the early 17th century, picked from the first published editions of the composers assembled: Kapsberger, Foscarini, Ortiz.

The early 1600s of course showcase a bridge between the Renaissance and what the performer in his booklet notes calls the new music. It’s a period and a theme he’s explored before. In this solo recital, made in his own barn, in solitude, the bass lute providing soundscape for this new music, with its extended range into the bass with non-fretted courses and the singing clarity familiar to lutes from the previous century, we get great sound and for fans of Lislevand, we get some familiar tracks.

Such an example is the third track, from Kapsberger, his Toccata sesta that Lislevand has played before with additional musicians. His previous efforts may have well pushed the boundaries of historically-informed performance, but I’m not complaining. His realizations were affective in their texture and harmony. Here things are presented a bit more simply, but it’s hard to not hear the echoes from those earlier recordings in this one.

Some years ago when I was visiting of the large, old royal chateaux in France’s Loire Valley, I couldn’t help but think of what music might have sounded like in any one of the many rooms, especially in those that today are sparsely decorated, with the sound reverberating against stone. This album sounds special to me, in this regard, both tack sharp in terms of detail, but the resonance of his barn works well to re-create the imagined concept of how these pieces may have first been enjoyed by the musicians and their patrons.

The fourth track is a presentation of Lislevand’s own creation, a Passacaglia al modo mio. It brings to mind, for me, the solo passacaglia for violin the composer Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber. The piece, instead being entirely original, lifts riffs from music of the period. The difference, perhaps, being the modal shifts of key the performer takes, which listening the first time, always took me by surprise. The piece serves as a centerpiece of the album, serving as its longest track.

The Recercada sesta by Diego Ortiz is also surprising with the timbre of Liselvand’s instrument at its start. I’d first encountered this composer’s music from an album directed by Jordi Savall, a musician who has invited Lislevand into his ensembles in the past. The open fifths are what give this music is special flavor.

The thirteenth track presents Folias by both Kapsberger and Alessandro Piccinini. The supposed Spanish origin of this dance is perhaps lost on me, and its familiar harmonic sequence made famous later by Corelli and Vivaldi, is not immediately recognizable here. One almost imagines at this point in history that this would have been music to be danced to.

If you listen to other lute recordings, and here I’m thinking from the likes of Smith or O’Dette, there’s a definite stylistic component to Lislevand’s playing that he’s made his own. His solutions to the music left to us in tablature many times sounds oddly fresh and modern. I’m not enough of an expert to speak to his adherence to historical technique, but I find these readings inspiring.

The function of this music today comes into question, and specifically, how does one approach this music? The harmonic direction is at once old but surprising, in some cases, for how long one dwells in one area before things shift, and those shifts happen in unexpected ways to our ears, cultured with advances in harmonic language.

Do you listen to this music in the background? Sure. But to do so would rob us of the invitation to close our eyes and bathe ourselves in the gorgeous sound ECM has given us. Some will want to enjoy this music as an album—a hour set aside, from start to finish. Others may find the lack of formal harmonic structure unsettling. I’d invite you to listen without distraction, maybe in smaller doses. There is much to discover and in so doing, I think you will, like me, marvel at Lislevand’s technique and own invention.

Mercy and Fury from Antonio Vivaldi

Mercy and Fury from Antonio Vivaldi