This is a fascinating CD, the fruit of much scholarly endeavour 
                and – fortunately – of abundant musicianship too. Pedantic minds 
                such as mine may wish to quibble about the album’s somewhat misleading 
                title: ‘Venetian Composers in Guatemala and Bolivia’. Galuppi 
                travelled quite extensively – indeed from 1765 to 1768 he was 
                maestro di capella to Catherine the Great in St. Petersburg. Giacomo 
                Facco spent most of his working life in the Iberian peninsula, 
                first in Portugal and then, for many years, in Madrid. But neither 
                of them ever visited Latin America. Nor, so far as I know, did 
                Antonio Gaetano Pampani ever make the arduous journey to Guatemala 
                or Bolivia. Indeed, he appears never to have worked further afield 
                than northern and central Italy.
                
Contrary to initial 
                  appearances, this is not, in short, one of the increasing number 
                  of albums devoted to the work of Italian composers who made 
                  their living in the New World – figures such as Roque Ceruti 
                  or Domenico Zipoli. Every bit as interestingly, this album focuses 
                  on what happened, in the New World, to works by Venetian composers, 
                  works which were appropriated and put to uses quite different 
                  from those envisaged by the composer.
                
Working from manuscript 
                  sources in the Archivo Musical de la Catedral de Guatemala, 
                  the Archivo y Biblioteca Nacionales de Bolivia (in Sucre) and 
                  the Biblioteca de Catalunya (in Barcelona), Anibal Cetrangelo 
                  and Demetrio Pala have identified music prepared for use in 
                  the churches of Guatemala and Bolivia which is actually comprised 
                  of extracts from operas by established Venetian composers, with 
                  the secular Italian words removed and new, sacred texts, in 
                  Spanish, substituted. Thus they have identified the aria “Oy 
                  gustoso el corazón” as a version (with radically different text) 
                  of the aria “Viverò se tu lo vuoi cara parte del mio core”, 
                  from the opera Artaserse by Pampani, first performed 
                  at the Teatro San Giovanni Grisostomo in Venice in 1750. Here 
                  this sacred parody, as it might reasonably be described (although 
                  its original audience would presumably have no idea of its secular 
                  original) gets a lovely performance from Roberta Pozzer with 
                  beautiful playing by (particularly) the strings and continuo 
                  of Albalonga. Elsewhere, slightly better known works by Galuppi 
                  and Facco come in for similar treatment. Sometimes the contrasts 
                  – emotionally and otherwise – between original and ‘replacement’ 
                  texts are startling. So, for example, Galuppi’s Olimpiade 
                  (using the often-set libretto by Metastasio) contains the aria 
                  “Son qual per mar turbato”, the words of which are full of tragic 
                  sentiments and possibilities. Yet someone took Galuppi’s music 
                  for the aria and fitted to it Spanish words (“Giro volando la 
                  sacra esfera”) about the birth of Christ! Amazingly, it works, 
                  and is here sung very persuasively by Sylva Pozzer.
                
There are intriguing 
                  issues here, which it wouldn’t be appropriate to try to discuss 
                  in a review - even if I felt confident that I had the necessary 
                  learning to do so. For the moment it is perhaps sufficient to 
                  register thanks and praise for the scholarship which underlies 
                  this issue, and for the excellent performances which make that 
                  scholarship ‘speak’ to listeners. Albalonga, under the direction, 
                  of Aníbal Cetrangolo plays with great vivacity and, where necessary, 
                  with great tenderness. The colours and harmonies and the buoyant 
                  continuo playing are alike excellent – the full ensemble is 
                  made up of two flutes, two oboes, trumpet, two horns, two violins, 
                  cello, violone and harpsichord. All three singers acquit themselves 
                  with considerable credit. I particularly liked the sensitivity 
                  and intelligence of Vincenzo Di Donato’s work in Facco’s Cantada 
                  humana de dos arias con violón.
                
              
Any reader with an 
                interest in the music of Venice, or in the Italian baroque more 
                generally, can be sure of enjoyable and thought-provoking listening 
                here. This is the second CD produced under the auspices of the 
                Istituto per lo studio della musica latinoamericana, directed 
                by Cetrangolo. I look forward to further CDs.
                
                Glyn Pursglove