Both Martucci and Sgambati 
                are interesting figures and both wrote 
                some fascinating music. It has, though, 
                to be said that the works brought together 
                on this CD, pleasant as they are, are 
                not amongst the most important creations 
                of either composer. 
              
 
              
Martucci was an important 
                presence in the musical life of his 
                time. His skills as a pianist won him 
                the praise of Liszt; as a conductor 
                he was admired by Richard Strauss. Martucci, 
                indeed, conducted the Italian premiere 
                of Tristan und Isolde in 1888. 
                He taught in Naples and Bologna – Respighi 
                was one of his pupils. 
              
 
              
As a composer the best 
                of Martucci is to be found in his two 
                symphonies (especially the second), 
                in his piano concertos (the second is 
                particularly fine), in his splendid 
                song-cycle La Canzone dei Ricordi, 
                in some of his works for solo piano 
                and, perhaps, in such chamber works 
                as his piano quintet and trio. The violin 
                sonata which opens this programme was 
                written when Martucci was eighteen; 
                unsurprisingly there is about it more 
                than a little of the talented student 
                rather than the fully formed composer. 
                None of this is to deny that the work 
                has a certain lightweight charm. There 
                are some attractively lyrical passages 
                and moments of intriguing instrumental 
                interplay – but it doesn’t, finally, 
                seem to have a great deal to say. The 
                Three Pieces of 1886 have more in the 
                way of content – the first is graceful 
                and dignified, the second is an engagingly 
                reflective piece, with a pleasing sense 
                of poise, and the third is somewhat 
                lushly romantic. The brief Melodia 
                has a rather melancholic, sepia charm, 
                but like its companions it doesn’t offer 
                much that is really individual, either 
                formally or emotionally. 
              
 
              
Giovanni Sgambati, 
                younger contemporary of Martucci, was 
                another gifted pianist, something of 
                a favourite pupil of Liszt. As with 
                Martucci, the strongest musical influences 
                came from the German tradition – especially 
                from the example of Schumann and Brahms. 
                He conducted a number of Italian premieres 
                of German works – including Liszt’s 
                Dante Symphony. He corresponded with 
                Wagner and Strauss; indeed, Wagner’s 
                initial hearing of Sgambati’s work for 
                piano quintet at a concert in the German 
                Embassy in 1876 led him to describe 
                Sgambati as a "most authentic and 
                original talent" and to encourage 
                the publication of his work in Germany. 
                Sgambati later established the Liceo 
                Musicale of the Accademia Santa Cecilia 
                in Rome. 
              
 
              
Again, these two works 
                for violin and piano can claim only 
                a rather minor place in the canon of 
                Sgambati’s work – they do not rival 
                his Piano Concerto in G minor, his D 
                major symphony, or the best of his works 
                for solo piano. The Two Pieces are engaging 
                enough, especially the second, described 
                as a ‘serenata napoletana’ and the Gondoliera 
                has real charm, evocative of a peaceful, 
                fluid Venetian scene. But, in truth, 
                it can’t really be claimed that any 
                of this is more than superior salon 
                music. 
              
 
              
Luca Braga and Lucia 
                Pittau give committed and well-calculated 
                performances throughout, sympathetic 
                to the music’s idioms and resisting 
                any temptation to oversell it. The whole 
                makes for some pleasant, undemanding 
                listening and offers an insight into 
                the lesser works of two figures of importance 
                in the nineteenth century movement to 
                re-establish instrumental music in an 
                Italy dominated by the claims of opera. 
              
Glyn Pursglove 
                 
              
Tactus 
                catalogue