Given Christian Lindberg’s comprehensive exploration of
the repertoire of the modern trombone, it is perhaps unsurprising
that he has now turned his attentions to the 17
th century
repertoire of its predecessor, the sackbut. What is more surprising
is that he plays this music on a copy of a period instrument.
Lindberg has the most distinctive trombone sound of any living
player, a combination of idiosyncratic (but usually appropriate)
phrasing and a subtle, quite shallow vibrato which he often applies
to the ends of longer notes. His performances on the modern instrument
are also characterised by an impressive roundness of tone in
the upper register.
Curiously, all of these features are just as evident on this
disc as they are on any of his others, leading me to speculate
about what sort of a sackbut he is using. No illustration is
given in the liner - surely a missed opportunity considering
what an iconic object the sackbut can be - but we are told that
it is a Meinl und Lauber copy of the Erasmus Schnitzler instrument
of 1551 in the collection of the Germanisches Nationalmuseum
in Nuremburg. This is the earliest surviving trombone anywhere
in the world, so we are talking about a peashooter bore diameter
(similar to a modern trumpet), a bell that would fit comfortably
in your hand, plate stays that would sit rather less comfortably
in the player’s hand, and a very heavy outer slide. Certainly,
Lindberg’s tone has a woolly quality here from the instrument’s
small bell, but his agility in the fast music suggests much lighter
metals have been used to construct the slide of this copy than
were used in the original. His instrument performs best in the
middle to upper register, but can become congested lower down.
Most interestingly of all, the sound has little of the throaty
quality one would expect from a sackbut mouthpiece with a sharply
defined rim at the throat (at the centre of the cup). The mouthpiece
used here is described as a ‘Christian Lindberg baroque
model mouthpiece’, presumably some compromise between these
early styles and more modern conventions.
In terms of performance technique, Lindberg says he has taken
advice from his brother, the lutenist Jakob Lindberg. His light
ornamentation endears these performances, giving a sense of constructive
and creative engagement with the 17
th century scores.
Phrasing is achieved through gradations of both dynamics and
articulation, allowing the music an almost vocal vitality without
straying too far from the narrow stylistic confines of the age.
The music is from Italian and German sources, the most familiar
names Frescobaldi and Biber, the former’s canzonas in a
fairly straightforward, unpretentious style, the latter providing
a sonata in a more proto-classical
gallante mode. Of the
other composers, Dario Castello moves between the two, alternating
canonic counterpoint with passages of a recitative-like simplicity.
Daniel Speer, a name probably known among brass players, constructs
elegant and lively instrumental works from dance forms, his
Gigue a
particularly sprightly example.
Lindberg is accompanied throughout by members of the Australian
Chamber Orchestra, whose credentials in early music hardly need
stating. Richard Tognetti finds an ideal light yet earthy tone
in his violin timbre to complement the sackbut, while Neal Peres
de Costa excels as continuo accompanist on harpsichord and chamber
organ. Balance between the players, whether worked out between
themselves or adjusted in post-production, is ideal throughout,
and the tricky balance of sackbut and harpsichord never becomes
a problem.
This is an idiosyncratic take on the music of the trombone’s
predecessor. But then, Christian Lindberg brings an idiosyncratic
approach to every project he commences. I personally, like the
sackbut to sound further removed from the tone of the modern
trombone, but that is not necessarily an authenticity issue.
These performances stand up well on their own terms, and for
the many collectors of Lindberg’s growing discography,
it will provide a satisfying complement to his many concerto
recordings.
Gavin Dixon