The Conti renaissance continues apace with this highly seductive
example of his too-long-overlooked art. Conti is best known for
his years of service at the court of the Hapsburgs in Vienna where
he worked successively as theorbo player and later court composer;
he replaced Johann Joseph Fux. Since so much of Fux’s music is
played and recorded it’s a disappointment that things have only
fairly recently got around to his immediate successor. Doubtless
the unavailability of scores has a lot to do with it, a situation
that has been magnificently rectified with this splendid recording.
David is an oratorio
or, to be precise, an azione sacra per musica and was
completed in 1724. The role of Saul was written for the eminent
Francesco Borosini who was soon to be associated with Handel
in London. There are intriguing questions as to how well Handel
knew Conti’s music – and how much his own Saul was influenced
in particular by the mad scene in Conti’s David. These musicological
questions of cross-referencing are perhaps best left to musical
historians and musicologists but the fact that one can raise
the issue at all attests to the highly superior nature of
Conti’s writing.
David is indeed
a really remarkable work and it deserves a recording such
as this. Much of the plot is familiar but the music ensures
distinction. The soloists all bring considerable individuality
to the roles. As Micol we have Simone Kernes and her distinctive,
slightly edgy soprano has athleticism in spades allied to
a technical bravura. Her high leaps in Al genitor mio re
are frequently spectacular and there’s one especially beautiful
passage that compels admiration. David is taken by Marijana
Mijanovic, a remarkable singer, and hers is probably the most
individual of all the voices in Alan Curtis’s repertory company
– a soprano that edges close to the timbre of a counter-tenor.
Gionata is Birgitte
Christensen who, like Kernes, has the ability fearlessly and
freely to ascend into the vocal stratosphere but with two
keen qualities in her favour – razor sharp articulation allied
to a surprisingly rounded tone; Contra un padre is
a particularly spectacular example of her skills. Sonia Prina
is Abner and her contralto is lighter than one might expect
but it’s highly expressive nonetheless. Her scene with accompanying
solo violin in Part II – Al fianco anzi vorrei - is
worth noting, so well have the engineers balanced solo voice
and solo violin; Andrea Keller plays beautifully here and
elsewhere. Vito Priante embodies the villainous power of Falti
and his divisions in Agiterò la face attest to his
posturing menace. We have saved Saul until now - Furio Zanasi.
This is singing of characterisation-plus, enormously engaged,
powerful and almost histrionic; I’d be tempted to call him
the John Vickers of the Baroque world. It’s perfectly appropriate
of course given the psychological depths embedded in the Biblical
story and which have been transferred to this oratorio with
penetrating results.
Listen to the
fascinating accompanied recitatives throughout; as a single
example try David’s Eccelso Dio in Part I. Better still
there is a sequence of recitative, accompanied recitative
and recitative toward the end of the First part – beginning
Non pi. Già cedo that is breathtaking in its psychological
acumen, in its pacing and refinement; it’s a truly electrifying
amalgam of text and music, and performed here with unerring
insight. Saul’s disintegration is realised with real bravura
but don’t overlook the theorbo (Conti’s own instrument of
course) in its contribution to the Second Part, notably the
Preludio and David’s accompanied recitative Quanto mirabil,
much less its lengthier contribution still to his following
aria [disc two, track twelve].
Fortunately the
starry soloists have their co-equals in the orchestral playing;
the modestly sized chorus retains clarity of attack and brings
great resilience to bear. And Alan Curtis, the prime mover
of the set, directs with instinct, musicality and musicological
intelligence quite beyond reproach. His booklet notes are
required reading and the opposite of ponderous. This is a
triumphantly assured and important recording.
Jonathan
Woolf