Albinoni’s instrumental
music is characterised more by its refinement
than its passion; indeed, its emotional
range is quite narrow. His music is
somewhat reserved, even fastidious,
carefully cultivating elegance of line
and a graceful politeness; it is careful
not to startle or, as it were, to draw
excessive attention to itself. One might
be tempted to describe it as aristocratic;
certainly it cares about its dignity.
Perhaps Albinoni’s
slightly ambiguous place in Venetian
society had something to do with the
presence of such characteristics in
his music. The son of a wealthy paper
merchant, he was, in effect an ‘amateur’
musician; yet his background in trade
meant that he was not fully accepted
by the highest ranks of Venetian society.
One can see why he might have been so
meticulous a composer, so careful that
no charge of vulgarity could ever be
brought against his music.
Yet, even if Albinoni’s
chamber music is largely without the
extravagance of Veracini or the dramatic
gestures of Vivaldi, it is certainly
not without its own subtle charms. These
violin sonatas – for that is what they
all are, the title of trattenimenti
’entertainments’ being, in all probability,
no more than a label attached by a publisher
– contain some beautiful melodies in
their slow movements, often elegiac
in mood but never excessively self-indulgent.
In some of the faster movements – such
as the two allegros of no.10 in the
op. 6 set, Albinoni creates politely
energetic, characteristically decorous
versions of the allemande and the gigue.
Though the violin is
certainly the ‘star’ of the proceedings,
Albinoni’s writing for the bass instruments
is generally inventive and subtle.
Without ever approaching
wildness or abandonment, Albinoni’s
shows himself well capable, when he
wishes to be, of writing powerfully
emotional music. This is certainly the
case in opus 6 no. 8, which packs a
considerable punch.
Elizabeth Wallfisch
brings precise articulation and a sympathetic
understanding of Albinoni’s idioms to
her playing of these sonatas. She and
her colleagues are rhythmically alert
and bring some finely nuanced playing
to fast and slow movements alike. Some
of the faster movements can be – and
sometimes have been – played with more
sense of fantasy than Wallfisch brings
to them, but I find her vision of Albinoni
persuasive and consistent.
Eighteen sonatas, all
in the sonata da chiesa form
of four movements, slow-fast-slow-fast
– don’t, it has to be said, make for
the most varied of listening if one
spends a full 160 minutes listening
to the two CDs right through. But as
a resource on one’s CD shelves, taken
down from time to time to listen to
one or two sonatas, this is excellent
and valuable.
Glyn Pursglove