Corelli’s Op.
5 comprises a set of twelve sonatas for violin and continuo,
the first six of which Naxos recorded in 2002 with Lucy van
Dael and Bob van Asperen. That disc (Naxos
8.557165) received a fair welcome on this site from Paul
Shoemaker and a warmer one from Emma Jones: her summing-up –
“intelligent performances, and well worth buying, especially
at budget price” – is equally applicable to the present completion
of the set, albeit that two different artists, François Fernandez
and Glen Wilson, are involved in this co-production with Bavarian
Radio. Anyone who responds favourably to Vivaldi or to Corelli’s
own better-known Op. 6 Concerti Grossi need not hesitate
to buy these lively performances of some fine music. Published
on January 1st., 1700, these sonatas were clearly
meant to be the music of the new century and they became so
popular that a number of early eighteenth-century arrangements
of them, for various instrumental combinations and for keyboard
solo, exist. (Scores and mp3 excerpts from several of these
can be found online.
The best-known
of these arrangements is Geminiani’s set of Concerti Grossi,
Op. 5.
Which to choose
– Corelli’s original penny-plain or Geminiani’s twopenny-coloured
– the fuller sound of the Geminiani or the more immediate sound
of the Corelli? The contrast between the two versions is made
all the starker by the fact that Naxos have decided, as on their
earlier disc, not to employ a second continuo instrument, a
decision ably defended in Glen Wilson’s very informative notes:
his assertion that the ‘ò’ in Corelli’s indication Sonati
a violino e violone ò cembalo means ‘keyboard or cello or gamba’,
not ‘and/or’ seems logical, as does his statement that “harpsichord
alone offers some advantages of clarity, certainly when a double-manual
instrument is used.”
Clarity is
certainly the keynote of these performances and my ear did not
crave the extra continuo. This is probably partly due to the
fact that the recording is close, but not too close, and that
Wilson’s copy of a 1628 Ruckers harpsichord is rarely backward
in coming forward, in contrast with the earlier CD, where Emma
Jones found the continuo rather mild. (Wilson makes a strong
case for the availability and use of such a fuller-sounding
instrument in Italy by the date of these sonatas.) I don’t
wish to imply that the harpsichord is out of proportion; indeed,
just occasionally I felt that the violin was slightly too forward,
but these are essentially violin sonatas with continuo
accompaniment. On the earlier disc three of the sonatas were
performed with organ continuo; here the harpsichord is employed
throughout.
Tempi throughout
are quite brisk, especially in the opening sonata, No. 7, though
never unduly so. The headnote on the back cover refers to Corelli’s
“slow movements of a lyrical, elegant beauty”; the players achieve
this lyricism while resisting the temptation to linger over-long
in these movements. The Sarabanda : Largo of the eighth
sonata is a case in point where lyricism is achieved without
any sense of lingering too long (2:30 against the 2:17 of the
equivalent movement in Andrew Manze’s recording with the Academy
of Ancient Music of the Geminiani orchestration but subjectively
both sound correct in context – if anything, Manze sounds slightly
slower and I Musici at 2:49 really do sound slow. Straight
time-comparisons are, in any case, not always relevant, since
Geminiani recast some of the music as he orchestrated it.).
The notes also
refer to the technical demands of these virtuoso sonatas, demands
to which the performers are fully equal. This is nowhere more
apparent than in the twelfth concerto, which is not really a
concerto at all but a twelve-minute set of variations on that
ubiquitous baroque theme La Folia. (22 variations according
to the booklet, 23 according to my edition.) The folly involved
relates to the madness of the performers of what began life
as a dance, but could equally apply to any instrumentalists
who seek unadvisedly to undertake what Geminiani names as the
ultimate work of the violin repertoire. Fernandez and Wilson
rise very ably to the occasion. The notes refer to Fernandez’s
use of ornamentation derived from contemporary sources. Without
wishing to become embroiled in an academic debate, suffice it
to say that I never found this ornamentation obtrusive: much
of it is, in any case, marked in the score which I used.
I have already
referred to the AAM/Manze recording of the Geminiani Op. 5:
only the second half of this set, Nos. 7-12, appears to be currently
available, at mid-price, bundled with the 2007 catalogue on
Harmonia Mundi HMX290 7262. I Musici’s version of the complete
set, formerly available on a recommendable Philips Duo issue
(433 766-2) also appears to have been deleted. Andrew Manze
has recorded an excellent complete set of the Corelli originals
with Richard Egarr on HMU90 7298.99 (2 CDs). As on the present
Naxos issue, Manze and Egarr dispense with the extra continuo.
Those who insist on the extra instrumentation are well served
by Monica Huggett et al on a bargain Virgin Veritas twofer
(5 62236-2) on which the keyboard part alternates between harpsichord
and organ and which normally sells for even less than the two
Naxos CDs.
I expected
to come away with a clear preference for the Geminiani versions
yet, very well performed as these are by Manze and the Academy,
I found myself preferring the fresh spring water of the Corelli
as performed on this Naxos recording. How appropriate that
the recording venue, Bronnbach, means ‘spring-stream’. The
use of period instruments contributes to this sense of freshness.
If you want only one CD of Corelli, you may find that the sonatas
on this second disc (chiefly sonate da camera) are easier
on the ear than the sonate da chiesa on the earlier Naxos
CD.
My only real
complaint is that Fernandez and Wilson offer only the Geminiani
revision of Sonata No. 9. There would have been room to include
the original version of this sonata also, as is the case on
the Wallfisch recording (Hyperion CDA66381/2), which Paul Shoemaker
preferred to the earlier Naxos issue.
Brian Wilson
François Fernandez
(baroque violin, Guarneri, 1690); Glen Wilson (harpsichord, Henk
van Schevikhoven after a 1628 Ruckers)
