Paradoxically, Platti presents the
case of a composer who has generally
sunk into oblivion but has also been
lavishly praised in some quarters.
First, the facts. Born
in or around Padua in 1697, Platti is
believed to have studied music in Venice
– his father Carlo is said by some sources
to have played in the orchestra of St.
Mark’s cathedral – possibly with Francesco
Gasparini and with Alessandro and Benedetto
Marcello. In 1722 – along with Fortunato
Chelleri (later ‘Keller’) and the singer
Girolamo Bassani – he took up a post
in the service of Johann Philipp Franz
von Schönborn, Prince-Archbishop
of Würzburg. Although his first
patron died only two years after his
arrival in Würzburg, Platti seems
to have spent the rest of his life there,
having married the soprano Theresia
Lambrucker in 1723, working for various
members of the family of the Counts
von Schönborn, notably Count Rudolf
Franz Erwein, a particularly keen patron
of music. Platti was a versatile musician;
initially famous an oboist, he was also
an accomplished violinist, cellist,
flautist and harpsichordist; he taught
singing and had a decent tenor voice;
and, of course, he was a composer. He
wrote at least one opera (now lost),
several mass settings, a number of oratorios
and cantatas, and over a hundred instrumental
works. Rediscovery of his works is only
really beginning now.
Yet almost a century
ago, one musicologist was already making
considerable claims for Platti. As long
ago as 1910 the Italian Fausto Torrefranca
published the earliest of his repeated
claims as to the continuing vitality
and quality of Italian music in the
eighteenth century, a vitality which
led him to insist that it was really
the work of Italians (rather than Germanic)
composers which paved the way for almost
all the major later developments in
music, for the classical sonata, the
concerto, the symphony, the string quartet,
even musical romanticism. One of his
‘heroes’ (along with such figures as
Galuppi and Sammartini) was Platti.
Platti, insisted Torrefranca, anticipated
most of the innovations which German
(and other) scholars had attributed
to figures such as C.P.E. Bach (trying
to do down C.P.E. Bach seems to have
become something of an obsession with
Torrefranca. Some of his arguments for
Platti’s precedence involve some pretty
dubious juggling with dates and some
pretty speculative leaps of logic).
Some of his arguments are presented
in his book Le Origini italiane
del romanticismo musicale; I primitivi
della sonata moderna (Turin, Fratelli
Bocca, 1930). Torrefranca died in 1955.
His characteristically intemperate study
of Platti and his importance – Giovanni
Benedetto Platti e la sonata
moderna (Milan, Ricordi) – was
published posthumously in 1963. It runs
to over 400 pages and makes some pretty
extraordinary claims, effectively identifying
Platti as one of the most significant
figures in the evolution of music in
the eighteenth century. The claim is
patently excessive. Yet Torrefranca’s
claims contain within them certain more
modest ‘truths’. Italian keyboard writing
in the eighteenth century was
more various and interesting than most
standard histories have suggested; and
Platti did have a certain distinctiveness
as a composer and probably deserves
a bit more attention than he has generally
received. Neither the extreme of ‘oblivion’,
nor the claim that he is a kind of principal
progenitor of Mozart and Beethoven’s
sonatas, get Platti’s position or merits
right.
The truth seems to
be that Platti is a very competent,
though unevenly inventive, composer
of keyboard sonatas; the best movements
of the sonatas are expressive and quirky;
the weakest are, if truth be told, somewhat
dull affairs. There is an attractive
‘vocal’ quality to some of his writing,
not least in some fine slow movements.
There are quasi-improvisational passages
where it is very hard to guess quite
where the music will go next. There
are passages of intricate countermelody
and of complex syncopated rhythms. There
are also moments of disarming simplicity.
But for all this, it is hard to imagine
that many will want to go along with
Torrefranca’s judgement, quoted with
approval in the booklet notes to this
CD:
"How to portray
Giovanni Benedetto Platti? … He was
a true artist, this is evident, but
he was also a great artist and must
take his place in history among the
most important authors of instrumental
music … As far as music for harpsichord
is concerned … his style stands out
over that of his contemporaries. To
have a clear idea, just choose and read,
one after another, those works in which
he has been able to instil his true
personality in the most concise and
brilliant way and he conquers a place
in the world of the indisputable, the
highest sphere of art."
With this first volume
of what is billed as a complete recording
of Platti’s harpsichord sonatas, played
with proficient enthusiasm and commitment
by Filippo Emanuele Ravizza, listeners
have an opportunity to make up their
own mind. Ravizza is not shy of striking
colours or sharp transitions, and certainly
seems to share Torrefranca’s estimate
of Platti’s innovatory style. To my
ears the results seem sometimes a little
forced, a little strained. But there
is a great deal to enjoy in this immensely
vivacious reading of the music. Ravizza
plays a modern copy of an instrument
by the eighteenth century manufacturer
J.D. Dulcken; though no details are
given it is evidently of the same ‘family’
as the copy of a Dulcken instrument
of 1745 played so famously by Gustav
Leonhardt, and its sharp, percussive
sound is well suited to Ravizza’s needs
here.
Platti is not the staggeringly
important figure of Torrefranca’s claims.
But he is an interesting writer for
keyboards who deserves a hearing. He
gets a good chance to be heard on this
first CD of Ravizza’s series (the second
volume has also now been issued). It
is a shame that the time limits of the
CD mean that here we get to hear only
nos. 1-5 of Platti’s 1742 collection
of VI Sonates pour le Clavessin sur
le Gout Italien. The sixth
heads off the second CD.
Glyn Pursglove