Tag Archives: Wigmore Hall

Tasmin Little and Martin Roscoe at the Wigmore Hall – A fitting tribute

Posted on by
Reply

Tasmin Little and Martin Roscoe at the Wigmore Hall – A fitting tribute

tasmin-little-martin-roscoe

Tasmin Little (violin), Martin Roscoe (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 1 June 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05wytj1

on the iPlayer until 30 June

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here

What’s the music?

Brahms: Scherzo from the ‘FAE Sonata’ (1853) (6 minutes)

Dvořák: 4 Romantic Pieces, Op.75 (1887) (13 minutes)

Franck: Violin Sonata (1886) (28 minutes)

What about the music?

A well-chosen program of music for violin and piano, drawn from the period in the late nineteenth century known as ‘Romantic’. Yet as well as being from that period it is Romantic in nature.

Brahms wrote three substantial sonatas for violin and piano, each of them admired, and he also wrote a sonata in collaboration with Robert Schumann and his pupil Albert Dietrich. It was a gift to their friend Joseph Joachim, himself a composer and also a virtuoso violinist who was to inspire many more works from Brahms, Schumann and Dvořák among others.

The 4 Romantic Pieces of Dvořák were not written for Joachim, and are not greatly demanding technically – but are a perfect illustration of just how tuneful the composer’s music can be, and how through great simplicity he could write music of great expression. There is charm and wit in abundance here, music that seems to celebrate the great outdoors.

The Violin Sonata by Belgian-born French citizen César Franck is one of the chamber music masterpieces of the nineteenth century. Treating the two instruments very much as equals, it is memorable firstly for its dreamy first movement theme, which creeps in like a summer breeze, then for the darkly passionate movement that follows it. After the freedom of the third movement Franck plays his trump card, a ‘canon’ – that is, where violin and piano play the same melody but a little distance apart. This one is a beauty.

Peter Cropper. Credit: Hanya Chlala/ArenaPAL

Credit: Hanya Chlala/ArenaPAL

Performance verdict

This was a particularly moving concert, given a short while after the announcement of the death of Peter Cropper, first violinist with the Lindsay String Quartet and a close personal friend of Martin Roscoe. Not only was Roscoe intent on going ahead with this concert, he and Tasmin Little chose to dedicate their performance of the Franck Sonata to his memory – and in doing so they paid a deeply meaningful tribute.

The Franck is a lovely work and both Little and Roscoe brought out the deep-seated passion of the second and third movements, dovetailing beautifully with the charm of the outer movements. Roscoe was extremely responsive so that the melodies were passed back and forward with ease and enthusiasm.

The Dvořák Romantic Pieces were also extremely appealing, their apparent simplicity still given plenty of depth in this performance, with an especially poignant last piece. Warmth and wistfulness combined irresistibly in the first and third pieces, while for the second country dance it was as though someone had flung open the windows of the hall!

It was like that too for the Brahms Scherzo, which Little began almost before Roscoe had sat down, such was her eagerness to get on with it. The music surged forward as though intent on devouring everything in its path.

What should I listen out for?

Brahms

1:26 A surge of excitement as the piece begins, the violin using its lowest string and the ‘G’ an octave above it. The swaying motion of the theme is typical of Brahms, who often writes in triplet rhythms, and it creates an appealing syncopation, an ebb and flow between violin and piano.

There is a triumphant coda from 6:30, crowning this piece by the young Brahms with a flourish.

Dvořák

8:32 The first piece is warm and a little wistful, affectionately played.

11:48 The second piece is a grander affair, but also takes on the form of a country dance.

14:34 Marked ‘Allegro appassionato’, the third piece at first sounds remarkably similar to the first, being in the same mood and key, but becomes more passionate with Little playing two strings at once

16:43 A shadow falls over the sunshine created by Dvořák in the first three pieces, with music of introspection and contemplation. There is however still a positive ending.

Franck

23:40 A dreamy introduction from the piano, which hovers on an exotic chord until the violin comes in with the tune, also in a dreamy state. The mood becomes more passionate – amorous perhaps – and Franck manages that expression with very little variation to the tune itself.

30:00 The second movement begins with the turbulent rumblings of the piano, which give way to a passionate violin theme. At 33:35 this reaches a natural climax, before the turbulent theme is heard again. The onward flow of the music is impressive here, a torrent of notes – so much so that there is applause at the end of this movement!

38:05 – A ‘recitative’ forms the third movement – that is a passage of freedom for the violin, after the piano has set the scene. This gives it the opportunity to show off in a semi-improvised way, and after this the violin and piano exchange ideas, leading to a natural climax point at 41:10, the music at its most passionate again. There is a strong reference to the sonata’s opening at 43:30 – an example of Franck’s ‘cyclical’ way of writing, where he brings back themes from earlier in the work.

45:07 The canon, as described above, begun by the piano and followed by the violin. Franck writes it rather sweetly, with an innocence that proves touching throughout, but again it grows in stature. The violin and piano spend much of the movement imitating each other’s melodies in this way, with references to the first movement, before returning to the main music at 49:57 and then an uplifting finish.

Encore

53:00 An encore of Brahms’ Hungarian Dance no.5, probably in the arrangement by Joseph Joachim, as described above. Little plays this with great theatricality, Roscoe very sure-footed (or should that be handed?!) by her side.

Further listening

A rather attractive companion piece to both the FAE Scherzo and the Franck Violin Sonata is Brahms’ Violin Sonata no.2, a summery piece that finds the composer in relatively relaxed mode. A nice complement to this is the shorter but quite fiery Légende by the Polish composer Henryk

A rather attractive companion piece to both the FAE Scherzo and the Franck Violin Sonata is Brahms’ Violin Sonata no.2, a summery piece that finds the composer in relatively relaxed mode. A nice complement to this is the shorter but quite fiery Légende by the Polish composer Henryk Wieniawski. Meanwhile a piece that joins everything together nicely is another red blooded piece of chamber music by Franck, his Piano Quintet, which in the right performance offers some high voltage music making! The one on this playlist, by Sviatoslav Richter and the Borodin Quartet, leaves absolutely nothing to chance.

Meanwhile a piece that joins everything together nicely is another red blooded piece of chamber music by Franck, his Piano Quintet, which in the right performance offers some high voltage music making! The one on this playlist, by Sviatoslav Richter and the Borodin Quartet, leaves absolutely nothing to chance.

For more concerts click here

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet at the Wigmore Hall – Imitations and Studies

Posted on by
Reply

Imitations and Studies – Jean-Efflam Bavouzet at the Wigmore Hall

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 25 May 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05w7tdx

on the iPlayer until 23 June

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here

What’s the music?

Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 24 in F sharp major Op. 78 ‘A Thérèse’ (10 minutes)

Boulez: Piano Sonata No. 1 (11 minutes)

Maurice Ohana: 3 from the 12 Études d’interprétation, Book 1 (Mouvements parallèles; Quintes; Main gauche seule) (15 minutes)

Debussy: 3 from the Etudes Book I (Pour les tierces; Pour les sixtes; Pour les octaves) (10 minutes)

What about the music?

At first glance this program has the appearance of a slightly random but interesting set of composers and works; on closer inspection they are shown to have intriguing connections.

Beethoven’s middle period sonata, subtitled ‘à Thérèse’ in recognition of its dedicatee, Countess Thérèse von Brunswick, is a snip at just ten minutes and is one of the lesser known of the 32 sonatas. It also has a strange key and unusual structure, so to all intents and purposes it feels like an experimental work – yet it is concentrated in its emotion and ultimately rewarding for the listener.

The Boulez sonata, his first of three, was written when the composer – now 90 – was just 21. It was intriguingly modelled on the Beethoven work just heard – both in length and design – so it makes sense to hear the two together. Going further than Beethoven’s unusual key choice, Boulez writes using the ‘twelve-tone’ method – which means each note of the conventional Western notation has to sound before the initial note can be heard again. Twelve-tone pieces can often present challenges for audiences, but this one does still emphasise certain pitches – ‘B’ especially – and uses a wide range of dynamics and expressive nuances that make it much more palatable to the untrained ear.

Maurice Ohana is not a composer often encountered in the concert hall at all. His upbringing as an Andalusian of Jewish descent born in Morocco and eventually settling in France is reflected in the cosmopolitan nature of his music, uniting all these strands. Ohana often makes use of microtonality, using pitches between the semitones we are so used to in Western music. That of course is not possible on a tuned piano as in this concert – but we hear a flavour if his unusual harmonies in this selection of Etudes, modelled on Debussy’s equivalent works for the piano. The final etude is written for the left hand only.

Debussy’s Études are masterpieces that follow Chopin’s lead in making colourful and often emotional pieces from what are ostensibly technical exercises. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet chooses three here.

Performance verdict

An inventive program from Bavouzet, whose relatively recent recordings of Beethoven are complemented by a Boulez piece where the pianist is able to put his friendship with the composer to great authoritative use.

Bavouzet’s technical command is formidable, and comes to the fore in the studies by Ohana and Debussy, where we can hear each composer exploring the limits of the pianist through some particularly athletic writing.

What should I listen out for?

Beethoven

2:04 A short introduction leads to the main theme proper of the first movement (around 2:34). The music is relatively at ease here, but not a note is wasted, especially when Beethoven develops this theme – an intense section where the melody twists around but never beyond recognition. The tune dominates but Beethoven’s continued stress of the unusual F sharp tonality creates an unusual form of tension in this performance.

9:38 Bavouzet moves quickly into the second movement, where the first tune has a clipped melody, then the second sounds like two fingers chasing each other repeatedly around the keyboard.

Boulez

14:13 Like the Beethoven, the music seems very sure of itself right from the off. Although this is what is known as a ‘twelve tone’ piece, certain pitches come to the fore and there is an unmistakeably expressive shape to each statement. As the movement progresses there are some particularly crunchy discords, and often a longer phrase is followed by a flurry of notes in a downward descent. The movement ends convincingly at a lower pitch.

19:46 A wiry sound to the lower edge of the piano as this movement starts, and then the mood gets a bit more frivolous – with the ‘chasing’ around the keyboard as experienced in the Beethoven. This more ‘playful’ movement, which still sounds quite straight faced (in the manner of its creator, perhaps!) leads to an uncompromising and perfunctory finish.

Ohana

26:50 – the first etude, a study in parallel motion, starts at the extremes, with the right hand high and the left hand low. The inflections in the melody are full of Eastern flavour, then some of the chords are clumped together before a firm end. This is a virtuoso piece that has a greater rhythmic profile

31:37 – a cool profile to the beginning of Etude no.5, which is a study in the hands playing in fifths. The irregular rhythms make the music feel less secure, but the Eastern flavour is there once again in some of the softer melodies.

36:54 – a study for the left hand only, beginning immersed right at the bottom of the piano but soon ascending to the heights. Ohana asks a lot of the pianist here, and it is difficult to believe that some of the gymnastics here are for just the one hand, as this study flies along – until a stately slower passage.

Debussy

43:24 (Pour les cinq digits) (For the five fingers) A deceptive piece this, as it starts with a simple scalic motif but then moves about restlessly before filling out considerably.

46:38 (Pour les tierces (For the thirds) As the title indicates, this study uses a lot of smaller chords made up of thirds, Debussy giving a unique rocking motion to the music. If anything by the end the music is also a study in octaves as well as thirds.

50:36 Pour les octaves (For the octaves) Some big stretches for the hands in this piece, often playing an octave apart and at quick motion. Then in a typical move for Debussy we suddenly arrive at an emphatic finish in a key that is at once a logical but also surprising move.

Encore

54:22 An encore of Debussy’s L’isle joyeuse (The joyful island), played with typical pizzazz by Bavouzet!

Further listening

With the emphasis still on studies and modern music, an interesting – if challenging – next step are some Studies by Conlon Nancarrow, arranged for instrumental ensemble. These were originally written for a ‘player piano’ – that is, a piano that plyed itself – because the music was thought to be too difficult for human performance. Some pianists do defy gravity to play it, but the versatility of the music is shown by the ease with which it transfers to instruments. Nancarrow’s fiercely original voice can be heard in technicolour here

For more concerts click here

Steven Isserlis and friends – Czech chamber music

Posted on by
Reply

czech-chamber-music
Fate by the Czech artist Alphonse Mucha, 1920

Jeremy Denk (piano), Joshua Bell (violin), Lawrence Power (viola) and Steven Isserlis (cello), Wigmore Hall, 20 May 2015.

As Steven Isserlis wrote so eloquently in the program notes for this concert, ‘Why is it that so much Czech music is loveable in such a unique way?’

This, the first of two parts, revealed a quartet of composers intent on spoiling the listener with a mass of tunes (teacher Dvořák and pupil Suk) or using their music to express the highly charged climate in Europe in the 1920s and 1930s (Janáček and, from a distance, Martinů)

Jeremy Denk, Joshua Bell, Steven Isserlis and Lawrence Power planned this concert to perfection, the abundance of tunes placed first and last, with the deeper moments in between.

It is doubtful Suk’s Piano Quartet, the first published piece of a precocious seventeen year old, has ever had a performance like this, bursting with pride and enthusiasm. After a forthright statement of the first tune from the ensemble, a beautiful solo from Isserlis revealed the work’s softer underbelly, which came to the fore in a similarly affecting tune in the slow movement, the cello releasing a beautiful mellow sound.

Janáček’s Violin Sonata wore a permanently furrowed brow. The icy reach of the muted violin in the last of the four brief movements was key to summing up a work that bristles with anger, though redemption was briefly found in the second movement Balada, with a theme of silvery consolation.

The second of three cello sonatas by Bohuslav Martinů was next. Isserlis has championed these works for more than 25 years, and gave a commanding performance of a moving work. Written in America in 1938, the composer having successfully fled Paris and the Nazis, it is a deeply felt and resilient utterance, especially in the second movement where time stood still.

As far as the tunes were concerned, the best was saved until last. Dvořák’s Piano Quartet no.2 positively bursts with Czech melodies – which are revealed to be surprisingly close in mood and contour to the American tunes he was to use towards the end of his career. Here they were swept along in a wonderful performance of good feeling, played with great sensitivity by Jeremy Denk, whose phrasing was key to the utmost charm of the Scherzo, the tender Adagio and the rustic finale.

Yet this was music for a team of friends to enjoy, the music surging forwards with a positivity rarely experienced to this extent in the concert hall – and happily caught by microphones, hopefully for a future release on Wigmore Hall Live. Those Czechs, they knew a good tune – and these four were the best possible Bohemian Rhapsodists in waiting!

The music from this concert can be heard here on Spotify. Part two of this series is at the Wigmore Hall on Saturday 23 May, and will include the Dvořák Piano Quintet and the Piano Trio by Smetana.

Christoph Prégardien – The Darker Side of Love

Posted on by
Reply

The Darker Side of Love – Christoph Prégardien and Daniel Heide at the Wigmore Hall

christoph-pregardien

Christoph Prégardien (tenor), Daniel Heide (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 18 May 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05tpryp

on the iPlayer until 17 June

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here

What’s the music?

Schubert: An den Mond, D259; Schäfers Klagelied, D121

Schubert: Erster Verlust, D226

Schubert: Rastlose Liebe, D138

Schubert: Wandrers Nachtlied II, D768

Schubert: Willkommen und Abschied, D767 (17 minutes)

Schumann: Dichterliebe, Op.48 (30 minutes)

What about the music?

The relationship between Schubert and the poetry of Goethe was long-standing, beginning in October 1814 and yielding tens of songs. Many of them are darker utterances, and the collection here enjoys the composer’s ability to cast a nocturnal scene for voice and piano seemingly at will. It also celebrates his faster, galloping songs, the singer in the saddle for an action-packed horse ride, while the sheer simplicity of shorter songs such as Erster Verlust is pure and touching.

Schumann’s famous year of song reached its creative peak in May 1840, when he wrote the Liederkreis, published as Op.39, and Dichterliebe, where he sought inspiration once again from the poetry of Heinrich Heine. The quote in the Wigmore Hall program sums it up perfectly, Schumann describing the verses as ‘short, maliciously sentimental, and written in the folk style’. They evoke outdoor scenes but also inward and often crippling emotions, the singer – and possibly the listener! – an emotional liability by the end. Schumann rescues Dichterliebe, however, through the piano postludes he provides to Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen (One bright summer morning) and the closing song Die altern, bösen Lieder (The bad old songs), attempting and largely succeeding to restore stability.

Performance verdict

Christoph Prégardien has been singing these songs (or ‘Lieder’, as we should really call them!) for a long time – he recorded most of them a while back – but he still brings keen emotion to the stage.

The silence of Wigmore Hall during a song as tense as Schumann’s Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet (I wept in my dream), the ninth of Dichterliebe’s dozen, said it all. Here was a performer creating vivid pictures from Heine’s barbed text and Schumann’s equally frosty responses to the dark side.

In Schubert, too, the steely edge of even the most youthful Goethe setting could be glimpsed, brought out in an early song like An den Mond (To the Moon) by pianist Daniel Heide, stressing the notes Schubert brings in to challenge the happier times of the song.

Schubert’s horse-riding songs, Rastlose Liebe and Wilkommen und Abschied, were adrenalin-fuelled dashes into the country, while Schäfers Klaglied brilliantly evoked both the tempest and its subsequent rainbow.

Prégardien is an unfussy singer who communicates with his audience through subtle but meaningful expression, both visually and with the use of his hands. This somehow carries over to the listener too, either in the hall or at home, part of a masterclass in how to sing these songs.

What should I listen out for?

Schubert

1:50 – An den Mond (To the Moon) A calm and seemingly contented song to begin the selection – though there are some warning signs, chiefly in the piano part, to suggest all is not well.

5:27 – Schäfers Klagelied (Shepherd’s lament) A downcast and solemn song, with a vivid depiction of a storm in its central section from the piano (from 6:55), which also somehow describes the resultant rainbow (7:13) before a return to sadness.

8:58 – Erster Verlust (First loss) A song of striking simplicity and sadness, with an aching melody where the purity of Prégardien’s tone really comes through

11:22 – Rastlose Liebe (Restless love) A song that gallops out of the blocks with its rapid movement on the piano, and the breathless voice almost struggles to keep up. Meine signs off beautifully at 12:30.

12:47 – Wandrers Nachtlied II (Wanderer’s Nightsong II) Here we can feel the stillness of a summer evening, the conditions in which Goethe scribbled the verses for this poem as he stood outside in a garden. Prégardien’s higher notes are beautifully tailored.

15:18 – Willkommen und Abschied (Greeting and farewell) Another of Schubert’s quick dashes through the text, though at the end of each verse we have a pregnant pause. Prégardien cries out ‘ihr Götter’ (‘O gods!’) at 17:17. The text at the end translates as ‘what a joy to be loved’

Schumann

The words for Dichterliebe can be found here

21:12 – Im wunderschönen Monat Mai (In the wondrous month of May) A graceful song to begin the cycle, with some beautiful top notes (the translated words ‘blossom’ and ‘desire’) that Prégardien very subtly stresses through a pause.

22:54 – Aus meinen Tränen sprießen (From my tears will spring) The spring-like openness continues, in the same key.

23:51 – Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne (Rose, lily, dove) A playful song, over in a flash!

24:23 – Wenn ich in deine Augen seh (When I look into your eyes) A tender love song, that tellingly moves to the purity C major to tell of how ‘when I kiss your lips, then I am wholly healed’. There is a yearning postlude on the piano.

26:12 – Ich will meine Seele tauchen (Let me bathe my soul) Another short love song, this time with a flowing, watery piano accompaniment.

27:08 – Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome (In the Rhine, the holy river) The singer adopts a much more imposing tone to evoke the grandeur of the Rhine and the great cathedral of Cologne, where hangs an image of ‘Our beloved Lady’ – which the singer equates to that of his own love. The piano postlude is reminiscent of a Baroque aria.

29:16 – Ich grolle nicht (I bear no grudge) The text turns darker, though the musical language is still generally positive. The tenor has a heavier tone here, the voice more of a baritone in its richness.

30:49 – Und wüßten’s die Blumen, die kleinen (If the little flowers only knew) The piano matches the tenor in this flowing, limpid song – spring like in its subject matter but ultimately sad and regretful at a broken heart. This leads straight into…

32:05 – Das ist ein Flöten und Geigen (What a fluting and fiddling) A proud song but once again with a darker centre.

33:29 – Hör’ ich das Liedchen klingen (When I hear the little song) This is Heine’s poetry at its coldest, and in this brief song it gets a suitably bare response from Schumann, who then attempts some consolation in the extended piano postlude, which in reality says just as much as the song does.

35:47 – Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen (A boy loves a girl) A more positive mood now – but soon the poetry turns dark as well. Schumann keeps his tongue firmly in his cheek, allowing the tenor a bit of sardonic humour and the piano a grand finish

36:47 – Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen (One bright summer morning) A beautifully simple song – though now the mood of sadness is taking hold with greater certainty. Again we have a longer piano postlude, the pianist reflecting the text through music and trying to console.

39:38 – Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet (I wept in my dream) Schumann’s use of silence here is striking and altogether ominous. Prégardien gathers the power of the final verse, the texture sparse as can be, until the music stops abruptly.

42:25 – Allnächtlich im Traume (Nightly in my dreams) An elusive song – another dream but one the poet cannot really remember – which possibly explains why Schumann leaves the music sounding half-finished at the end.

43:54 – Aus alten Märchen winkt es (A white hand beckons) There is greater optimism in this song, using the upper register of the piano for the first time in a while, but once again Heine insists on an ending that takes away the potential for happiness. Schumann’s music rescues this in the postlude however!

46:39 – Die alten, bösen Lieder (The bad old songs) A bit of nostalgia to finish – though this is a purge, the poet casting all his ‘bad and bitter dreams’ away in a heavy coffin. Schumann responds with gallows humour, a song that is bold and defiant in its execution but which fades away to reflection. Once again we have a piano postlude, this one even more meaningful as it tries to draw the cycle to a soft conclusion. In the right performance however, like this one, a level of bitterness remains.

Encore

53:05 – Schumann – Mit Myrthen und Rosen (With myrtle and roses) (the last song from Liederkreis, Op.24) This has an effortless, upward curve to the melody. Prégardien’s gestures to the audience here were beautifully observed.

Further listening

With Christoph Prégardien demonstrating his almost unparalleled abilities in Schubert, here is a Spotify link to a recent recording of him singing the great Schubert song cycle Winterreise. Again this is music on the dark side, but is greatly inspired at that. Texts can be found http://www.recmusic.org/lieder/assemble_texts.html?SongCycleId=47″>here and the playlist is here

For more concerts click here

Sara Mingardo sings Italian Laments

Posted on by
Reply

Sara Mingardo – Italian Laments at the Wigmore Hall

sara-mingardo

Sara Mingardo (contralto), Ivano Zanenghi (theorbo), Giorgio Dal Monte (harpsichord) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 11 May 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05tpryp

on the iPlayer until 10 June

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here

What’s the music?

Monteverdi (1567-1643): Quel sguardo sdegnosetto; Voglio di vita uscir, voglio che cadano (8 minutes)

Frescobaldi (1583-1643): Toccata Seconda (5 minutes)

Andrea Falconieri (1586-1656): Vezzosette e care pupillette; Non più d’amore (4 minutes)

Giacomo Carissimi (1605-1674): Deh memoria e che più chiedi? (7 minutes)

Alessandro Piccinini (1566-c1638): Toccata XX; Aria di sarabanda in varie partite (6 minutes)

Salvatore (early 1600s -1688): Allor che Tirsi udia (9 minutes)

Barbara Strozzi (1619-1677): L’Eraclito amoroso (6 minutes)

What about the music?

First, a bit about the voice and instruments in this concert. Sara Mingardo is a contralto singer – that is, lower than a soprano and a little bit lower and richer in colour than a mezzo-soprano. Think of a boy alto, add femininity and a lot of body to the sound and you have something approaching her voice.

In this concert she is accompanied by Giorgio Dal Monte, playing a harpsichord from the late seventeenth century, and Ivano Zanenghi, playing a theorbo. The theorbo is a variation on the lute – which, in case you didn’t know, is a very early equivalent to the guitar. This particular instrument is a recreation and has no fewer than thirteen strings! They are spread over two different frets, rather like the instrument pictured here (photo from Early Music Studio:

theorbo

The music itself is all from the Renaissance and early Baroque periods in Italy. The only composer names likely to be familiar to listeners are Monteverdi and Frescobaldi, both pioneers in their expressive vocal music. The trio perform the music all together, save for a harpsichord solo (the Frescobaldi) and two pieces for the theorbo by Alessandro Piccinini. As you will hear the styles are particularly expressive, particularly in the laments – which most of these songs are.

Performance verdict

If you have yet to see Sara Mingardo perform then I urge you to do so without delay. Everything about her concerts draws the audience in, from the carefully thought out programs to her irresistible performance manner. Everything is delivered with musical freedom, and – text allowing – a modest yet winning smile.

Yet of course the voice is the reason for experiencing Mingardo’s charms in person, for she has an incredibly rich sound especially to the lower register that is rare among singers. Even better, she knows just how to control it.

This concert was beautifully put together and executed, and the laments carried an almost painful intensity that reduced the Wigmore Hall audience to silence. They were countered by airy, improvisatory pieces for harpsichord (Frescobaldi) and theorbo (Piccini) which were stylishly played by Giorgio Dal Monte and Ivano Zanenghi respectively.

This was very much a voyage of discovery, a reminder of just how intense Italian vocal music of the Renaissance and early Baroque periods can be.

What should I listen out for?

Monteverdi

1:34 – Quel sguardo sdegnosetto (A message) This song begins with an amiable figure on harpsichord and theorbo. The rhythms have a gentle lilt and the voice, rich and luxurious, uses melisma – which is a form of writing where a single word is spread over a large number of notes.

4:32 – Voglio di vita uscir, voglio che cadano (I want to leave this life, if by loving you I have offended you) A sprightly second song, cheery in spite of its subject matter. Towards the end it takes on sombre colouring as the harpsichord is replaced by the softer tones of the theorbo, and Mingardo sings ‘S’apre la tomba, il mio morir t’annutio’ (‘The tomb opens, I proclaim my death to you’). The control from Mingardo at the end is heartfelt and exquisite.

Frescobaldi

10:58 – This solo harpsichord piece becomes progressively more elaborate as it progresses. It is not rigid in tempo, which makes it sound improvised, and eventually the writing for right hand sounds like a waterfall of notes.

Falconieri

17:00 – Vezzosette e care pupillette (Bewitching and beloved sparkling eyes) Quite an elaborate theorbo introduction, and Mingardo uses a swooning vocal style here, especially when the text is repeated.

19:48 – Non più d’amore (No more wooing) Another very expressive though song which finds Mingardo in the upper part of her range.

Carissimi

21:26 – Deh, memoria (Say, memory) – a slow introduction reveals the rich tone of Mingardo’s lower range. This is a profound song written in the pain of another’s death, and Mingardo gives a powerful and emotive performance, shadowed beautifully and stylishly by the harpsichord and theobo. The song is especially profound at the end, returning to the singer’s lower range.

Piccinini

29:26 – Toccata XX. This begins almost as though the player was tuning up, with a very relaxed approach. Piccinini makes use of the lowest notes on the theorbo, which gives the music an expansive quality.

31:54 – Aria di Sarabanda in varie partite. The Aria sets out a short loop of music over which there are progressively more complicated variations, rather in the vein of Pachelbel’s Canon which was to follow a number of years later. Some of the variations go up quite high on the instrument.

Salvatore

36:25 – All’hor che Tirsti (When Thyrsis heard) In this declamatory song Sara Mingardo seems to be shaking a fist at the ‘Crudi fati, astri malvagi’ (‘Cruel fates, evil stars’). The accompaniment is initially for harpsichord only, the theorbo making a notable appearance at asdr when Mingardo sings ‘Et tu, caro ben mio’ (‘And you, my dear beloved’). Then she alternates between anger and a deeply mournful tone, with which this extremely expressive song ends.

Strozzi

44:36 – L’Eraclito amoroso (Hear, lovers) There is a florid accompaniment to more cursing of bad fortune. The sobbing nature of melodic writing when Mingardo sings ‘I singulti mi sanano’ (‘Sobs are my healing balm’) is striking. Towards the end Mingardo sings ever so slightly flat, deliberately accentuating the sorrow felt by the subject of the song, before finishing on an extremely low note.

Encore

52:31 – Tarquinio Merula (1594-1665) – Folle e ben che si crede. A more relaxed air to this encore, the voice floating on the higher notes. There is a lovely transition where Mingardo arcs gracefully up to a higher note at the end.

For more concerts click here