Classical writers declared 
                the threefold aim of poetry to be to 
                teach (docere), to move/persuade 
                (movere) and to please (delectare). 
                Here’s a CD that very successfully does 
                all three – a CD which has an explicit 
                educational purpose, but which simultaneously 
                moves and delights. 
              
 
              
Adrian Chandler, leader 
                of that excellent group La Serenissima, 
                currently holds a three-year fellowship 
                at Southampton University, funded by 
                the Arts and Humanities Research Council, 
                to study the growth of the violin concerto 
                in Northern Italy. As part of the project 
                he will produce three programmes for 
                Avie records, of which this is the first. 
                It looks at the emergence of music for 
                the violin family, the influence of 
                vocal models on violin style and the 
                growing centrality of the dominant soloist. 
                The second programme is intended to 
                focus on Vivaldi’s role in the development 
                of the violin concerto, considering 
                matters such as his use of the cadenza 
                and the influence of his concertos and 
                his operas on one another. Programme 
                three will examine the legacy of Vivaldi’s 
                work and the development of the classical 
                orchestra. 
              
 
              
Volume One mixes familiar 
                with unfamiliar and the results are, 
                indeed, both thoroughly entertaining 
                and painlessly instructive. Chandler’s 
                booklet notes discuss the huge increase 
                in the publication of music for the 
                violin in the first half of the seventeenth 
                century, and the way in which the emergence, 
                by mid-century, of the trio sonata and 
                the four/five part operatic sinfonia 
                in turn encouraged the development of 
                the ensemble sonata, represented here 
                in the work of Giovanni Legrenzi, with 
                whom the young Vivaldi probably studied. 
                Legrenzi, whose career as organist and 
                composer took him to many of the cities 
                of northern Italy prior to his appointment 
                as maestro di capella at St. 
                Mark’s in Venice in 1685, is represented 
                here by a selection of pieces from a 
                posthumously published collection which 
                appeared in 1691. Written for a five-part 
                ensemble made up of two violins, alto 
                violin, tenor viola and cello, with 
                harpsichord continuo, these are attractive 
                dance movements, played with engaged 
                (and engaging) exuberance by La Serenissima. 
              
 
              
The same instrumental 
                forces are employed in the two pieces 
                by Francesco Navara, though the violins 
                are given greater prominence, the writing 
                for them fairly described by Chandler 
                as "imposing" and "akin 
                to the Roman trio sonata which had recently 
                become fleshed out with added viola 
                parts, the concerto grosso prototype". 
                Little seems to be known about Navara, 
                who was appointed maestro di capello 
                at Mantua in 1695. The two sinfonias 
                heard here are taken from manuscripts 
                which survive in the library of Durham 
                Cathedral. I don’t remember ever encountering 
                Navara’s music before; both of these 
                two pieces (it is unclear whether we 
                should refer to them as sinfonias or 
                sonatas) are in four movements, alternate 
                slow and fast. Each begins with an expressive 
                sostenuto and it is perhaps in the slow 
                movements that they are at their most 
                attractive, although the allegro movements 
                are pleasantly spritely too. While it 
                would be overstating things to call 
                Navara a significant discovery, I am 
                certainly grateful to Chandler and his 
                band for effecting the introduction. 
              
 
              
Tomaso Albinoni was 
                an important north Italian figure so 
                far as the evolution of the three-movement 
                concerto form was concerned – in, for 
                example, the Sinfonie e concerti 
                à cinque which made up his 
                Op.2 of 1700 and Concerti à 
                cinque of 1707 as well as in 
                his oboe concertos (Op.7 in 1717, Op.9 
                in 1722). Chandler and la Serenissima 
                give us the eighth concerto from the 
                Opus 2 set, which opens with a brief 
                but incisively articulated allegro and 
                closes with a second allegro, which 
                has some pleasant imitative passages, 
                these two movements framing a short 
                (barely over the minute) adagio which 
                is little more than a succession of 
                chords. This is not especially brilliant 
                or memorable music, but of considerable 
                historical importance in terms of the 
                role it played in establishing the three-movement 
                (fast-slow-fast) form as something like 
                the norm for the concerto. 
              
 
              
Other conceptions of 
                the concerto, naturally enough, did 
                not disappear all at once. Amongst the 
                works collected in the Opus 7 (1710) 
                of the Florentine Giuseppe Valentini’s 
                (who was an able painter and poet as 
                well as a composer) are works for several 
                combinations of instruments – from solo 
                violin to cello and violin, two violins 
                or, as in the case, of the eleventh 
                in the set, played here, for four violins. 
                Valentini’s writing demands altogether 
                more technical virtuosity than is to 
                be heard in most preceding works for 
                violins and there is a flamboyance, 
                a cultivation of the harmonically unexpected, 
                which seems to open up new possibilities 
                for the composer of concertos. This 
                concerto for four violins is in five 
                movements, though Valentini did, elsewhere 
                in the set, also employ the three-movement 
                form (as in the sixth concerto). The 
                concerto, perhaps Valentini’s most famous 
                work, has been recorded before – e.g. 
                by Chiara Banchini and Ensemble 415 
                on Zig Zag Territoires 20801 – but this 
                performance need fear no comparisons, 
                vivacious and suitably virtuosic as 
                it is, colourful in textures and compelling 
                in its rhythms. 
              
 
              
The arc of development 
                mapped out in this first volume finds 
                its fulfilment in the work of Vivaldi. 
                It is represented here by two of the 
                twelve concertos which make up L’estro 
                armonico of 1711. Here, of course, 
                we move into more generally familiar 
                territory. Michael Talbot describes 
                L’estro armonico as "perhaps 
                the most influential collection of instrumental 
                music to appear during the whole of 
                the eighteenth century" – its only 
                serious rival for such a position being 
                Corelli’s opus 6 set (1714). In the 
                two concertos recorded here – both, 
                of course, in the three-movement form 
                – there is a certainty of musical conception 
                and execution not to be found (at least 
                not consistently) in any of the preceding 
                works on the disc – which isn’t to say 
                that they are without interest or incapable 
                of giving the listener their fair share 
                of both instruction and pleasure. But 
                these works by Vivaldi make a fitting 
                climax, give us a clear and triumphant 
                sense that a distinctive musical genre 
                has truly found its identity. The vigour 
                and concentration of rhythm in Vivaldi’s 
                outer movements and the subtle hauntings 
                of the slow movements have a musical 
                wholeness, a perfection of design, in 
                which contrast and complement both play 
                their roles, beyond anything that Navara, 
                Legrenzi, Albinoni or Valentini can 
                give us. And here they get vivacious 
                performances, energetic without ever 
                feeling rushed, the continuo work wonderfully 
                supportive, the solo playing a delight, 
                not least in the interplay of the four 
                concertino violins in the tenth concerto. 
              
 
              
The CD also comes with 
                a kind of bonus in the form of a performance 
                by Mhairi Lawson of a setting Psalm 
                112 – Latin text and English translation 
                are provided – by an anonymous composer, 
                taken from one of the manuscripts of 
                sacred works, now in the Biblioteca 
                Nazionale, which the young Vivaldi seems 
                to have acquired for study purposes. 
                The manuscript in question contains 
                thirteen works, all in the same hand, 
                which musicologists have attributed 
                to a single composer, referred to as 
                Composer X, probably a Venetian born 
                around 1650. The manuscript includes 
                five Psalm settings for soprano and 
                strings; the one recorded here is attractively 
                florid. After a short but shapely Sinfonia, 
                Lawson gives a subtly-coloured performance, 
                her interpretation not without that 
                strong sense of the dramatic which she 
                brings to many of her performances. 
                It is a good enough performance of an 
                interesting piece to justify its presence 
                on the CD purely for its own sake, but, 
                in this context, it also serves as a 
                reminder of how vocal style fed into 
                the evolution of Venetian writing for 
                the solo violin. 
                So, prepare to be instructed and moved. 
                And delighted. 
              
Glyn Pursglove