Sacrificium 
                CD 1 
                Nicola PORPORA (1686 – 1768) 
                
                Siface (1725) 
                1. Come nave in mezzo all’onde* [4:05] 
                Antonio CALDARA (1671 – 1736) 
                
                Sedecia (1732) 
                2. Profezie, di me diceste* [7:39] 
                Francesco ARAIA (1709 – 1770) 
                
                Berenice (1734) 
                3. Cadrň, ma qual si mira* [6:17] 
                Nicola PORPORA 
                Germanica in Germania (1732) 
                4. Parto, ti lascio, o cara* [10:49] 
                Siface 
                5. Usignolo sventurato* [5:12] 
                Carl Heinrich GRAUN (c.1703 – 
                1759) 
                Demofoonte (1746) 
                6. Misero pargoletto* [10:08] 
                Nicola PORPORA 
                Semiramide riconosciuta (1729) 
                7. In braccio a mille furie* [2:53] 
                Leonardo LEO (1694 – 1744) 
                
                Zenobia in Palmira (1725) 
                8. Qual farfalla* [5:30] 
                Nicola PORPORA 
                Adelaide (1723) 
                9. Nobil onda [4:56] 
                Carl Heinrich GRAUN 
                Adriano in Siria (1746) 
                10. Deh, tub el Dio d’amore … Ov’č il mio bene?* [3:43] 
                
                Leonardo VINCI (?1696 – 1730) 
                
                Farnace (1724) 
                11. Chi temea Giove regnante* [6:16] 
                Antonio CALDARA 
                La morte d’Abel figura di quella del nostro Redentore (1732) 
                12. Quel buon pastor son io* [10:26] 
                * World premiere recordings 
                CD 2 
                Three Legendary Castrato Arias 
                Riccardo BROSCHI (c. 1698 – 1756) 
                
                Artaserse (1734) 
                1. Son qual nave [7:32] 
                George Frideric HANDEL (1685 – 
                1759) 
                Serse (1738) 
                2. Ombra mai fu [3:30] 
                Geminiano GIACOMELLI (c.1692 – 
                1740) 
                Merope (1734) 
                3. Sposa, non mi conosci [10:11] 
                  
                    
                  Cecilia Bartoli is phenomenal – and has sustained her status 
                  over two decades. Her breakthrough came as a Rossini singer. 
                  She reaped laurels through a Rossini recital and the complete 
                  recording of 
Il barbiere di Siviglia under Patané, both 
                  issued in 1989. Mozart – a great Cherubino in Barenboim’s 
Le 
                  nozze di Figaro should be apostrophized – Haydn and a Handel 
                  opera followed suit. These came alongside a stream of recital 
                  discs. With the start of the new millennium, she changed direction 
                  and concentrated on rare repertoire, mostly from the 18
th 
                  century. Since then her stage appearances have been few and 
                  far between. Her formidable technique, her enormous musicality 
                  and her deep involvement in whatever she approaches have continued 
                  to serve her superbly in her various assignments. She has impressed 
                  the general public and the musicologists admirably through her 
                  indefatigable hunt for worthwhile rarities. She has not shied 
                  away from concept projects – both in concert and on disc – and 
                  the result has been musically thrilling and historically perspective-building. 
                  
                    
                  Her previous recital album, entitled 
Maria, was a tribute 
                  to the celebrated Maria Malibran, who was already a legend when 
                  she died, aged only 28. That album, issued in 2007, is a marvellous 
                  survey spanning the career of one of the real super stars in 
                  the world of opera. It included several world premiere recordings. 
                  In this her latest effort she goes even further in rarity value: 
                  11 out of the 12 numbers on CD 1 are world premiere recordings! 
                  
                    
                  The album title 
Sacrificium needs an explanation and 
                  Decca have supplied it with the subtitle: 
The Sacrifice of 
                  Hundred of Thousands of Boys in the Name of Music. The number 
                  of young boys who were castrated before their voices broke in 
                  the hope – primarily from greedy parents – that their offspring 
                  would become a brightly shining star. A few did. The question 
                  is: how happy they were in spite of the fortunes they reaped. 
                  The majority didn’t attain celebrity, and had to spend the rest 
                  of their lives in oblivion, maybe singing in church choirs. 
                  That was hardly compensation for their sufferings, physically 
                  and mentally. 
                    
                  It goes without saying that those who have been honoured by 
                  this album, belonged to the first category: those who were lucky 
                  to possess the talent required to command a career as a soloist. 
                  We know very little about what the great ones sounded like. 
                  The only ‘survivor’ into relatively recent times was Alessandro 
                  Moreschi. He recorded a handful of discs just after the turn 
                  of the last century but was no great singer. There are still 
                  moments on those records where he displays a sound that can 
                  serve as a distant echo of what ear-witnesses during the 18
th 
                  century have described. 
                    
                  Cecilia Bartoli’s voice has nothing of that masculine quality 
                  that is inherent in Moreschi’s tone. That aspect can be traced 
                  in a male soprano like Jörg Waschinski, whose disc with Clara 
                  Schumann songs I 
reviewed 
                  a while ago. But this is probably the only thing that is missing. 
                  Breath-control, beauty of tone, brilliance and the amazing technical 
                  security that allows her to execute the devilishly taxing coloratura 
                  roulades – everything is there, paired with dramatic intensity. 
                  The disc should be in every vocal collection for these qualities 
                  alone and for the rarity of the music. Question is: what is 
                  the quality of the music? 
                    
                  Honestly, there is quite a lot of empty coloratura fireworks 
                  on display here. This element serves no other purpose than as 
                  a vehicle for bravura. While admiring Bartoli’s phenomenal ease 
                  and seemingly effortless lightness in producing these interminable 
                  excursions up into the blue, one can’t fend off the onset of 
                  boredom. Even so, there are several examples of dramatically 
                  effective writing and rhythmically exciting music, where the 
                  drive and forward movement from orchestra as well as soloist 
                  will arouse enthusiasm. The opening aria by Porpora brims over 
                  with ‘go’ – and emptiness, likewise Araia’s aria (tr. 3), where 
                  the orchestra advances like a hurricane. Porpora’s 
Nobil 
                  onda from 
Adelaide is another stunner where Bartoli 
                  also gets an opportunity to expose her enormous range. Leonardo 
                  Vinci’s 
Chi temea Giove regnante (tr. 11) opens with 
                  a thunder that recurs throughout the aria, and this seems to 
                  justify the coloratura aspect. 
                    
                  There are also several arias that have far more musical depth: 
                  Antonio Caldara’s, for example. The elegy from 
Sedecia 
                  (tr. 2) is touching, and Bartoli’s handling of the text is marvellous. 
                  The mild Abel’s aria (tr. 12) is similarly moving, and in both 
                  arias the singing has the same feeling and soulfulness that 
                  characterized Janet Baker during her heyday. 
                    
                  Carl Heinrich Graun, who died the same year as Handel, was regarded, 
                  together with Hasse, as the foremost German composer of Italian 
                  opera. At least his 
Montezuma has been performed in modern 
                  times – and recorded. Decca issued a highlights disc with Richard 
                  Bonynge and with Joan Sutherland as one of the soloists, some 
                  decades ago. Last year (2008) Johannes Goritzki made a complete 
                  recording. I have some excerpts from the Decca and have always 
                  thought that Graun’s music is almost on a level with Handel’s. 
                  Timante’s aria from 
Demofoonte (tr. 6) is an extremely 
                  fine and moving elegy that confirms the impression. Bartoli 
                  sings it with the utmost care for nuance. The other Graun aria, 
                  from 
Adriano in Siria to a Metastasio libretto (tr. 10) 
                  is also wonderful. Leonardo Leo’s 
Qual farfalla innamorata 
                  (tr. 8) is likewise a most beautiful inspiration. 
                    
                  So the empty fireworks are only one side of the coin. There 
                  is a lot of high quality music to delight the discriminating 
                  listener. On the bonus disc there are more delights. Of Riccardo 
                  Broschi’s six operas for London, 
Artaserse was the most 
                  successful. One good reason for this was the aria 
Son qual 
                  nave – or maybe even more the singing of it by the legendary 
                  Farinelli on his first appearance in London. Farinelli was a 
                  younger brother to Broschi. The aria is primarily a virtuoso 
                  showpiece but with some rivetingly beautiful passages as well. 
                  
                    
                  Another famous castrato in London at about the same time was 
                  Caffarelli, who premiered the title role in Handel’s 
Serse 
                  (Xerxes) in 1738. The opera was no success, surviving only five 
                  performances, but this was hardly Caffarelli’s fault. And his 
                  opening aria – here bereft of its preceding recitative – has 
                  always been one of the composer’s most beloved arias, recorded 
                  by all kinds of singers, not least mezzo-sopranos. But has it 
                  ever been more beautifully sung than here? 
                    
                  Giacomelli’s 
Sposa, non mi conosci, was sung by both 
                  Farinelli and Caffarelli, but became world-famous in Vivaldi’s 
                  adaptation. It is beautiful but has a dramatic mid-section, 
                  where Cecilia Bartoli shows her expressivity, snarling like 
                  a lion. 
                    
                  The discs come in a deluxe edition in the shape of a hardback 
                  book, lavishly illustrated and with extensive notes. Among the 
                  illustrations there is a photograph from 1898 of the Papal Choir, 
                  where one of the singers is the afore-mentioned Alessando Moreschi. 
                  
                    
                This is certainly an indispensable issue! 
                    
                
Göran Forsling