Sonate Accademiche - Veracini
Background
Veracini joins other famed Italians for both his compositional and performance skills at the violin—names like Locatelli, Tartini, Vivaldi, Torelli… and like the best, his career was filled with travel, attachment in Germany to Dresden, where another famous violin composer worked, Pisendel. Francesco Maria Veracini however is most famous today beyond his playing for leaping out of a window, after which he would become known for him limp.
His “Academic” sonatas, as the liner notes in this release featuring violinist Eva Saladin, were composed for academy concerts. The academies were societies for the enjoyment of the arts, and by so-calling these sonatas by that name, he seems to be implying that there was substantial art in his works, something for the connoisseurs to enjoy.
This album is not a “complete” recording, but interestingly, attempts at providing selections from set of twelve multi-movement sonatas. The title reflects this by calling the program “An Anthology.” I know I am showing my age, but I for one miss the times when musicians put out complete collections. For instance, in 2015, Rachel Barton Pine, as part of the Trio Settecento, released the “complete” sonatae accademiche on the Çedille label. Fabio Biondi did a partial recording in 1995, as did Rudiger Lotter with Lyriarte in 2007. The only other complete collection I’m aware of is the one by Elizabeth Wallfisch and her Locatelli Trio, later Convivium (1995, Hyperion).
This seems to be a compromise: I don’t plan on recording them all, but I wanted to cover as much as I could onto a single CD. Such is the industry today, I’m guessing. My assumption is that this is more an economic and pragmatic decision rather than an artistic one.
For those unfamiliar with Saladin and her companions Daniel Rosin (cello) and Johannes Keller (harpsichord), they all were trained at the Basel Cantorum specializing in historical practices after, at least in Saladin’s case, study in modern repertoire. They provide good liner notes, making mention of Veracini’s score, which is perhaps more detail-oriented than others from the period, for when the violin should appear by itself, or just the bowed continuo. These are always interesting details I like to know about, especially so because they don’t always provide us a direct prescription for how to perform the works, but help reveal the conventions at play through performance that otherwise are assumed but are not included in the score themselves.
The sound of this recording is detailed, but lacks ultimate transparency. The harpsichord is hardest to hear. The cello and violin seem to be better matched. I auditioned this release via Qobuz with my headphone set-up. There were times that the violin sound retreats beneath her partners. The recording was made in a church, with, for my preferences, a bit too much reverb.
Performances
Saladin plays with an excellent sound; in this recording she uses a different violin than in her earlier recording of Pandolfi sonatas. There’s a piercing aspect to the violin’s tone, an instrument that I think is well-fashioned to be heard as a soloists in ensemble work. Throughout, I liked the tempos she adopts with her partners; there were some of the recordings by Wallfisch, for instance, where I wanted things to progress a bit faster (among the slower movements). In the third track, from the first sonata, Saladin shows no fatigue in her playing; the parts that live in the E string have a sweetness to them. For instance, her cadence on a high note before the track’s end is spoken clearly and with confidence.
As an advanced player, Veracini didn’t shy from double stopping. The opening of the sixth track from the third sonata is played cleanly and well; later portions of this movement rely upon repeated notes. Saladin’s articulation I think is just right for bringing attention to these rhetorical gestures. She’s also open to playing with terraced dynamics which I think work well. The playing of more than one note is a big part of the Capriccio from the same third movement (track 8). My only want is to hear more of her. After several listens, it’s obvious to me that these players were competing against the cavernous environment of the church. One can get closer to Saladin by increasing the volume, but the effect is somewhat artificial, and ultimately, too loud.
The last three tracks each come from a different sonata; the Capriccio depends upon repeated figures, clearly promoting the idea of a capricious actor. Rosin comes to the fore with some of his gritty playing, paired alone with Saladin. It’s good stuff. The next movement is labeled Scozzese. There’s a drone component in the violin part, mimicking the sound perhaps of bagpipes? When you hear it, you’re not surprised, then, to learn that "Scozzese" means “Scottish.” There’s a bit of a gigue going on, as well. It showcases Veracini’s humor and ability to evoke flavor in his writing.
I wanted a little more from the violin, in terms of improvisation, in the opening Adagio in the fourteenth track. Yet, Saladin's ability to lean into those longer notes and let them naturally crescendo, is well-done. The Ciaccona for me could have been rendered with a bit more dramatic flair? The recording by Biondi is far lighter, nearly playful in character, which I’m not sure is the right feeling for me either. A minute in, Bondi is showcasing more of that dramatic flair. Lotter rushes the piece, I think, taking us back to this recording. Saladin’s playing is clear and well-articulated, but I’m missing some of the novelty of Veracini’s odd writing, in terms of the style. But no complaints toward her confident playing and good intonation into the higher gamut of her instrument. The flood of notes that finishes the piece are all well-executed, but at the cost of a little bit of drama that might have come forth either through speed or increased dynamics.
Final Thoughts
Veracini had to have been an interesting personality; tales of leaping out of windows aside, his music bares witness to his virtuosity, not to mention his comedic sense and ability to conjure color and different cultural references into his music. Delving into the music in long conversations this music, I think, is ripe for, especially as it must have been for him and the musical public he engaged with in his lifetime.
The biggest shortcomings of this recording are for me bound to its incompleteness and ultimate transparency, at least when listening with headphones. The first comment is a hidden compliment toward Saladin, who I’d like to hear more from. Above all else, she’s a very consistent player across this album and shows no weaknesses when it comes to technique. There were a few places where she might have indulged us with a bit more flair, but to each their own.
Churches offer performers an inexpensive venue to make recordings. In some cases, these spaces are historically-germane (say, in the performance of Bach’s cantatas), but in others, they offer the opposite of a chamber setting for which this music is ideally suited.
That said, there are far worse examples where players become washed out. There are still some, where the engineers make it work, by individually applying microphones to each performer. I can’t speak to the approach here, but I wanted to get even closer to these performers without the effects of reverberation. Again—this is a compliment to the players who each, I think, provided an excellent account of these movements.
My final suggestion is to try listening to one of these movements then switching to the album “Pure” featuring Jonas Zschenderlein on violin. He does not perform Veracini, but the von Westhoff isn’t too far off in style. In the Finale (track 21), I criticized Zschenderlein for a bit too much exuberance. He and his colleagues like playing on the edge. Wherein I think he pushes things just a step too far, for Saladin, I’d say that she’s in a few places just one notch too safe.
Alas, I’m no one’s producer. Saladin and company have made a strong recording. And yes—we’d be luckier if we had the entire collection.
