An important disc.
The music of Georg Philipp Telemann
both deserves and repays close attention
and careful preparation. Dabringhaus
und Grimm has done Telemann proud by
presenting Musica Alpa Ripa’s performances
in exemplary fashion, with wonderfully
clear sound and commendably lucid booklet
notes (from Ute Poetzch).
Poetzch’s notes trace
Telemann’s involvement with chamber
music. The five examples on the present
disc make a nicely contrastive programme.
The first piece to be aired, the F major
Sonata, TWV43:F1, with its four movement
slow-fast-slow-fast design, makes reference
to the Italian Sonata da chiesa. It
is beautifully constructed, but over
and above this it is full of life and
imagination. Musica Alta Ripa invokes
the stasis of the opening Adagio brilliantly,
following on with a jaunty Allegro that
is the first occurrence on this disc
of their infectious springing of rhythms.
The recording has a slight tendency
to crowd (it is also at a high level
so some adjustment of the volume control
may be necessary) but nevertheless this
is thoroughly enjoyable fare.
The first of the two
concerti is for recorder and chamber
ensemble. Danya Segal is the soloist,
playing completely within the style
of the music. As with all of the pieces,
precise dating is no easy matter (effectively
informed guess-work), although the booklet
notes put it sometime after 1725. The
second movement (an Allegro) is pure
delight, one of those moments where
Telemann lets the sunlight in – this
happy-go-lucky streak is deliberate,
for the very next movement is an Andante
characterised by bare, vibrato-free
sonorities. This is an intimate utterance
that is very, very expressive indeed
(and which belies any accusations that
Telemann is a composer who sits on the
surface of emotions). Only in the finale
is there a reservation about the standard
of performance as our recordist almost
comes unstuck with the difficult repeated
notes.
The second concerto
(and the piece that closes the disc)
is a viola concerto, one of the earliest
known concertos for that instrument.
It was (possibly) written in Frankfurt
before 1721. The restful Largo is played
really tastefully (in that sense it
epitomises the disc as a whole) – similarly,
the soloist (Christoph Heidemann) is
tenderly expressive in the third movement
Andante. The joyous Presto finale is
a lovely way to end the recital.
Which leaves an Overture
and a Quadro. The Overture
is the key of F sharp minor, a harmonic
area that had taken on a very expressive
affekt at this juncture in history
and which is strongly associated with
sadness. Its ‘Ouverture’ (the first
movement of the Overture, to clarify)
is as eloquent as one could wish, and
leads to a sequence of seven further,
highly contrasted sections, each of
which holds its own rewards for the
listener. The violin articulation of
‘Les Plaisirs’ is pure joy, gentile
in the extreme; ‘La Badinerie Italienne’
is wonderfully alive; the Courante is
busy but the tempo is perfectly chosen
so that it does not sound rushed; the
final ‘Le Batelage’ scampers along most
persuasively.
The Quadro here
is described in the notes as a sonata
in concerto style. This piece begins
with a lively Allegro that positively
buzzes with energy while the contrapuntal
invention emerges with remarkable facility.
A brief but stately Adagio leads to
a vital Allegro: Musica Alta Ripa’s
differentiations of articulation are
joy in the latter.
This is a marvellous
disc. That it is called ‘Volume 1’ should
be a cause for celebration, for that
means more is sure to follow.
Colin Clarke