Antonio VIVALDI (1678-1741)
Le Quattro Stagioni, Op.8 (The Four Seasons) (1717) [41:20]
La Folia (arr. Sorrell) [10:45]
Francisco Fullana (violin)
Apollo's Fire/Jeannette Sorrell
rec. 15-17 April, 2021, Avon Lake United Church of Christ, Avon Lake, USA
AVIE AV2485 [52:25]
We've come a long way from the dutiful but dully literal readings of Vivaldi's The Four Seasons recorded in the LP era. Scherchen (Westminster), Faerber (Vox), Marriner (Decca), each one more soporific than the last. Only Leonard Bernstein provided some color by roughing it up a bit in his Columbia recording (now Sony), though it, too, seems bound to the printed page. With the coming of historically informed performance, scholars like Harnoncourt (Teldec, now Warner), Hogwood (L'Oiseau Lyre), and Pinnock (Archiv) found that there was a lot more potential life in this music, though an astringent element crept into some HIP performances.
We're at a point, now, when a performance like this one can compellingly, even flamboyantly, forefront the storytelling aspects of this music while still honoring its historical roots. Thus we have here, from violinist Francisco Fullana with Jeannette Sorrell and her ensemble Apollo's Fire, Vivaldi that is both stylish and expressive, learned yet sensual, dramatically focused and occasionally willful. It's a feast for the imagination, and a compelling demonstration of Fullana's range. I first encountered the Spanish violinist performing Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto live, then heard his 2018 Orchid Classics disc of Max Richter, Alfred Schnittke, and Isang Yun. Fullana moves from mainstream to modern to baroque with utter confidence, and earns his place in each field.
Where the first generations of historically aware performers lashed into the opening of the Spring concerto with an almost Stravinskian leanness, Sorrell has her players mix up their touches, ranging from crisp to lush, even allowing a touch of swoon, with shape given to extended phrases in a way that makes the music seem very alive, along with generous harpsichord continuo from Sorrell. The chirping birds of the first solos become free in tempo as the notes rise and fall, trailing off gently before the ritornello returns. In picturesque fashion, the following breezes and winds course and rage, along with double lightning strikes (as in the Pinnock recording, using a variant edition of this passage from the most commonly encountered one).
Fullana is a buoyantly high-spirited soloist, richly ornamenting passing phrases as he soars atop the lively ensemble's sound. He comes even more into his own in the enchanting slow movement that follows, singing with sweet melancholy over the quietly restless accompaniment (with just enough rasp in the violas to suggest the barking dog of Vivaldi's program, without ruining the spell of the movement like the Teldec recording by Giovanni Antonini and Il giardino armonico, which featured a veritable hellhound). Fullana's ornamentation is extensive, and might not work in a straighter-laced performance, but Sorrell is one hundred percent with him in making this a highly expressive rendition, and to that end, the ensemble players as well as Sorrell herself add ornamental gestures as well. That sense of imaginative richness permeates the atmosphere.
The finale of the Spring concerto is the true proving ground of great performances. Too many bog down in counting out the 12/8 timing of the movement and forget to dance. Sorrell and company keep the sense of folkdance in mind, the cellos even slightly rolling up into their first note, like a bagpipe drone. Tempos are held back whenever the violin solos discursively and ecstatically explore passing moments, but the dance always returns. Every great Four Seasons must find moments of breathtaking spell-casting, and Fullana and Sorrell find it in the last solo passage of this movement, stretching time and notes to a near-breaking point—along with a spicy touch of Moorish melody—before the dance returns with abandon. This is a style of performance that goes far beyond the printed page, but leaves the listener with goosebumps from understanding for the first time what this music is all about.
The Summer concerto continues in the same vivid manner. The opening all but wilts with torpor, followed by an explosive first solo from Fullana. Back and forth the moods go, gradually tightening each ritornello until the full storm fury erupts in the closing pages of the movement, with cross-rhythms emphasized. The slow movement is on edge, the buzzing flies portrayed with bows close to the bridge in the ensemble, while Fullana sings bewitchingly. The rumbles of thunder are treated cinematically, growing closer as the movement progresses, only to retreat at the last moment. The lashing of rain in the finale is thus allowed to return from the distance, a brilliantly pictorial effect. Before long, it turns into torrent, and Fullana's drive is demonic.
Fall opens in high spirits, a hiccup in tempo already testifying to the nature of the spirits being consumed by Vivaldi's festive villagers. Fullana goes for full characterization of the drunks, careening from daredevil scales to thrilling hesitations. Sorrell and the band are with him every raucous step of the way. The sense of humor is acute. The hushed passage portraying sleeping drunks near the end of the first movement is enchanting. The following slow movement, though, avoids that same spell with an ongoing, even verbose elaboration of the harpsichord continuo by Sorrell, joined in enthusiastically by Fullana. It rather diffuses the spell this chord progression makes, and it's one that Vivaldi must have been particularly proud of, as he reused it in at least two other concertos. I'm not convinced he would have liked his magical chord progression to be backgrounded by overenthusiastic improvisation. For what it's worth, the fulsome elaboration matches the adventurous spirit of the performance, and others may like it better than I do. Fullana makes the most of portraying the hunted fox in the last movement, with Sorrell and the continuo throwing in some visceral glissandi as the hunt rages over hill and dale. The death of the fox is poignant as one could wish.
The final concerto opens with wintry chill, strings playing near the bridge for a hollow sound. Fullana again combines technical infallibility with expressive intensity as he stomps across the frozen landscape, the ensemble matching pace and provoking him further. The sense of soloist and ensemble listening closely to each other is paramount. The raindrop-dappelled largo which follows is luxurious and sweet, like few others I've heard. Here the elaborately plucking accompaniment, which includes baroque guitar, further fleshes out the mood. This finale can sometimes come off as a poor cousin of the storm at the end of the Summer concerto, but Fullana and Sorrell find a dazzling edge that makes sure this movement takes on a vivid life of its own.
The disc closes with a lively performance of one of Apollo's Fire's party pieces, Vivaldi's La Folia variations. The original is found in an early Vivaldi trio sonata (Op.1, No.12), but this is Sorrell's arrangement, fleshing it out for full ensemble in the manner of a concerto grosso. Again, Fullana takes the lead, playing against the ensemble's Alan Choo, who matches the guest soloist for wild excitement. The group recorded it previously in 2008 (Avie 2211) in a fine performance, but the new one takes it to a whole new expressive level, demonstrating the fearless growth of Apollo's Fire from good to astounding.
Recording engineer Daniel Shores achieved something of a miracle with the recorded sound of this disc. I've heard concerts in the Avon Lake United Church of Christ before and, frankly, it's not a great space, at least when a full audience is in it. But without the sound-sucking absorption of a crowd, the recording finds ample space here. Fullana, in particular, is caught in radiant sound. The ensemble is spread out dramatically behind and around him. Perhaps in the fullest passages, a touch more clarity of the inner voices would have been ideal, but as it stands, it is a handsome and effective sound. Further enhancing the production is a booklet of extensive and insightful notes from Sorrell, who is as entertaining a writer as she is a director or harpsichordist. She's already been the subject of an interesting documentary (Playing with Fire, 2019), which details such stories as how a sexist snub from conductor Christoph von Dohnányi three decades ago led to the creation of Apollo's Fire (surely the otherwise great Dohnányi must by now have realized what a mistake he made when he rejected Sorrell as an assistant conductor at the Cleveland Orchestra!). Dare we hope for a music appreciation book and/or a memoir?
At any rate, this is a major new recording of The Four Seasons, and an absolute must for anyone interested in the art of musical storytelling.
Mark Sebastian Jordan
Previous review: Richard Masters
