Telemann: Fantasias for violle
This collection—Telemann’s fantasias for viola da gamba—presents, as Sara Ruiz, the soloist here attests, a unique opportunity. To approach an interpretation that isn’t clouded by historical performances.
How? Well, the collection was only recently discovered. Unlike, say, Bach’s Sonatas and Partitas for solo violin, with decades of recordings available, musicians have a rare opportunity to approach this collection without jaded ears. Maybe. This isn’t the first recording, but it was recorded nearly 7 years ago.
Yes, there are other recordings (those by Robert Smith and Paolo Pandolfo might be my first to explore, if I were you), but here Sara Ruiz wanted to not cloud her judgement in how to approach these pieces. She provides as part of this recording excellent notes going into the history of these pieces, in addition to her own journey with them.
The recording is well-made, with generous reverb, which I think is not always my style, but for me I’m happy to live in her sound world.
The pieces, as a whole, constitute a late baroque, through a German lens, of the instrument and its capacity to move us. While the instrument may be most famous through the likes of Marin Marais and the French taste, the gamba stayed-on through the high baroque in German-speaking lands via the likes of J.S. Bach and here, via his colleague Georg Phillip Telemann.
These pieces, unlike some Telemann wrote, were not for the amateur market. They require deft skill and a keen sense of dynamics and rhetoric to bring out the best in these works. Ruiz is up to the task. Throughout I was impressed by her style and how naturally she made these pieces feel to us as beloved and well-worn.
I was so moved by this sentiment—of exploring these pieces without the benefit (or curse) or comparing other performances—that I decided I didn’t want to listen to the competition in light of this review.
Throughout, her playing is in tune, and she has a great command of each movement’s character. She fills the reverberant space with her instrument’s sweet sound.
In particular, check out the 2nd track and how she cleanly lets the music speak, toward the eventual chordal parts.
In the 10th fantasia, marked Scherzando the tactile is felt by us with the hard finger taps. I love how the upper register sings.
The 11th fantasia has some of the busiest music among the set; in the third movement, Ruiz matches the fire on the page with her interpretation. This is the equivalent for me of an Italian taking control of an instrument that was made famous by the French; the ascendance into the higher gamut is extraordinarily exquisite. The movement altogether is one I could set on repeat.
I found little to quibble with in this recording. I remember Pandolfo’s recording was strong, but this one, taken by itself, only proves to be rewarding either in a complete play or taken one fantasia by itself. Bravo!
