Agostino Steffani’s (1654-1728) operatic output has been overshadowed by his more famous
‘successor’ Handel, yet interest has been growing in recent years, perhaps on
the back of the longstanding revival of attention for Handel’s operas. So much so that two recordings of Niobe, Regina di Tebe (‘Niobe, Queen of
Thebes’) have come out almost simultaneously, one live recording from the Royal Opera House’s production in 2010,
and another from the production at Boston Early Music Festival in 2011 (although recorded recently) on Erato. It’s a complicated story of Greek myth, with the usual
themes of unrequited love, power, magic and tragedy. As is often the case with opera recordings, a
good synopsis and texts is crucial if you are to have any chance of following
what’s happening, which the ROH give us – I would have like to have seen a few
more production pictures to get a sense of the design world (although there are
pictures available online). In terms of the performances, Véronique Gens as Niobe and Iestyn Davies as Creonte (the love interest) stand out as exceptional, both
infusing their singing with strong characterisation without being overly
mannered. The male soprano Jacek Laszczkowski as Anfione, the King
of Thebes certainly divides listeners.
His incredibly high voice, and the vocal pyrotechnics he demonstrates are
highly dramatic, and I suspect on stage this added power and presence to his
role, but I found on disc his voice a little over-harsh and extreme in
comparison to the other voices. However, it is the instrumental forces of the Balthasar-Neumann-Ensemble, conducted
by Thomas Hengelbrock that shine out
of this recording. Steffani’s
instrumentation is always striking and never dull, despite the steady flow of
so many relatively short arias and duets (over forty in this version, which
already contains some significant cuts).
The appearance of trumpets and drums straight away in the overture signposts
Steffani’s daring and dramatic scoring to come. I enjoyed discovering this highly individual
music and look forward to catching a production of this or another of
Steffani’s operas in the near future, as I am sure more will follow on the back
of this.
Singing in Igor
Stravinsky’s (1882-1971) Symphony of Psalms in last year’s Brighton Festival (Brighton Festival Chorus, the Philharmonia Orchestra and John Wilson -review here) reawakened my interest in perhaps one of the most individual and significant
composers of the twentieth century. So pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet performing his complete works for piano and
orchestra, with the São Paulo Symphony Orchestra under Yan Pascal Tortelier,
promised much, and certainly did not disappoint. The first thing that stands out is the
diversity of this one composer’s output, from the youthful exuberance of Pétrouchka, through the neoclassical Concerto for Piano and Wind Instruments,
and the Capriccio for Piano and
Orchestra, right up to Movements. The Concerto for Piano and Wind
Instruments comes first, and in its neoclassical style, there are also nods to
the Baroque and Bach in the middle slow movement in particular. Yet this is pure Stravinsky, and the driving
final movement, as well as the challenging yet precise writing for piano
throughout, is given a rousing performance from Bavouzet and the combined wind
and brass players here. The Capriccio,
composed some five years later, is somewhat less intense in style, and the
presence of strings here almost smoothes out the textures, although the
dazzling piano part has plenty of life, and Bavouzet has great fun with
this. We jump forward thirty or so years
for Movements, a serialist work of five short movements, influenced by Webern,
entirely based on a single tone row first heard on the solo piano before its
serialist manipulation. Cerebral perhaps,
yes, but by no means inaccessible. The
piano tends to lead small chamber groupings rather than taking a central solo
role, and although the piece goes by in just under ten minutes, Bavouzet and
the orchestra perform with intensity and tight ensemble. Stravinsky’s ballet score, Pétrouchka is
there to complete the disc, not being technically a piano ‘concerto’, the piano
being more a part of the orchestra than
a solo instrument – and Bavouzet describes in the notes how much he enjoyed
being part of the orchestra for a change.
This lively ballet score from 1911 still sounds fresh and innovative,
combining simple tunes with quirky scoring, bitonal harmonies and dramatic balletic
use of rhythm throughout, and the performance here is full of spirit, yet
precise and sharp, a great conclusion to an exceptional disc.
Czech born composer and violinist Johann Stamitz (1717-1757) was influential in the development of
the Classical symphony, writing around 50 of them, and primarily establishing
the conventional four-movement pattern.
He was also the director of the renowned orchestra of the day, the
Mannheim Court Orchestra. So, whilst not a household name today (and often
confused with his two sons Karl & Anton, also violinist/composers), he is
known predominantly for this influence on orchestral works and
performance. Yet he also composed a fair
amount of chamber works, concertos and some choral works, as well as his set of
six Violin Sonatas, Op. 6, which
violinist Stephan Schardt has
recorded with harpsichordist Michael Behringer. The works are problematic in terms of source material, with the
printed edition published after the composer’s death containing errors in both
parts. Schardt and Behringer have
researched the available sources, as well as other works by Stamitz to establish
a performing edition, and this has proved very successful, with characterful
yet appropriate articulation from the violin, with tasteful and sympathetic
accompaniment from the harpsichord. The
structure of the six sonatas is the same – a slow movement, followed by a fast
central allegro, and ending with a minuet – a standard approach at the time, as
the conventions were still developing and becoming established. The allegros
are perhaps where the most technically demanding music comes, although harmonically
they are not necessarily very advanced.
The adagios however contain some highly ornamental writing, and the
fifth sonata has the violin playing two separate lines throughout. The minuets
are elegant, with more adventurous harmonic interest in their central trio
sections. The sound on this SACD recording is clear as a bell, and the two
performers prove the strongest of advocates for these sonatas, and their
pivotal position in the development of early Classical style and form.
(Edited versions of some of these reviews first appeared in GScene, June 2015)
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