A Vivaldi discovery by Javier Lupiáñez

In 1973 Peter Ryom published his catalogue of the oeuvre of Antonio Vivaldi. Catalogues of musical compositions can be set up in different ways: according to scoring, or chronologically, to mention just two options. Ryom chose the former option: he started with sonatas for one instrument and basso continuo, followed by trio sonatas and 'other sonatas', among them what are often called concerti da camera. Then come the concertos and sinfonias for strings, solo concertos and concertos for two and more instruments. The result was a very logical catalogue, where one can easily find what one is looking for.

However, if one looks at more recent recordings of music by Vivaldi, one will find numbers which seem out of place. Some sonatas bear numbers in the 800s. The reason is that since Ryom published his catalogue, quite a number of hitherto unknown pieces by Vivaldi have been found, or pieces that were known, could be identified as authentic works from his pen. It is thanks to the fascination for his oeuvre that researchers and performers don't stop looking for something that we may not know yet.

In 2019 I reviewed a disc by the recorder player Inês d'Avena and the harpsichordist Claudio Ribeiro which included an unknown recorder sonata which they believed to be a composition by Vivaldi. They are examples of artists who are not satisfied with the repertoire that is available to them and try to find unknown stuff. Javier Lupiáñez is another one. Some years ago this violinist and his ensemble Scaramuccia surprised the music world with a recording of anonymous sonatas which he believed to be written by Johann Georg Pisendel. That discovery was most welcome, as Pisendel, although a brilliant violinist, has left little of his own pen.

From Pisendel to Vivaldi is a small step. The German was a great lover of Italian music, and particularly admired Vivaldi. Would he have been able to play the sonata that Lupiáñez recently discovered in a volume of sonatas by various authors, which in one way or another are connected to Bologna? It seems that the set of sonatas was known. The liner-notes don't say that it was found in some obscure archive. It is an example of a collection which was probably overlooked because it is just one of so many collections of violin sonatas by Italian composers, even though some of the composers are of high stature, such as Giuseppe Torelli, Giacomo Perti and Giuseppe Maria Jacchini. One thing is remarkable in this collection: most sets of sonatas or concertos comprised six or twelve pieces. This collection included a thirteenth sonata, and exactly that is the one which attracted Lupiáñez's attention. "It was completely different from the other pieces, with some extremely virtuosic passages, cadenze above long pedal notes and double stopping, and it was written in a language that I was tremendously familiar with." He decided to consult his colleague and Vivaldi specialist, Fabrizio Ammetto, who shared his assumption, and together they wrote an article which they submitted to the scientific committee of the Istituto Italiano Antonio Vivaldi. "The verdict was unanimous: this was a hitherto unknown work by Antonio Lucio Vivaldi."

The third chapter of the liner-notes in the booklet which accompanies the recording of this sonata bears the title "Vivaldi's visiting card". This gives some indication as to what Lupiáñez thinks of this sonata. Vivaldi composed music for a variety of people he knew, among them the girls of the Ospedale della Pietà, especially violin concertos. Sonatas for violin and basso continuo were often written to be used by the composer himself, and that seems also to be the case here. The opening of the sonata, which is in three movements, has an improvisatory character, with arpeggios over a pedal note. "I would not be at all surprised if Vivaldi were to improvise variations and extend the arpeggio passage as he often does in cadenze in his concertos, just as we have done in our performance by adding a cadenza of chords." Lupiáñez then describes various features of this sonata which confirm that this is a piece by Vivaldi. The second movement is relatively simple, and invites the player to add ornaments. The sonata ends with another pedal note and a virtuosic cadenza with double stopping.

Vivaldi offered Pisendel some of his sonatas. Would the German have been able to play this particular sonata? Given what we know of his skills, the answer is probably: yes. But there are good reasons to believe that in this sonata we can hear Vivaldi playing his own sonata for himself, or in a recital where he wanted to show what he was made of. Whether one calls it a 'visiting card' or something to show off (which in Vivaldi's case may have been the same), this is a great discovery, which may bring us as close to Vivaldi the virtuoso as is possible.

The performance by Javier Lupiáñez and his ensemble is excellent, as one may expect on the basis of previous recordings. The discovery of this piece is exciting as is the piece itself and the way it is performed. This sonata may well appear on a disc with other music some time, but lovers of Vivaldi's music should not wait and add this single recording to their collection.

Vivaldi: "Violin Sonata RV 829"
Scaramuccia/Javier Lupiáñez, violin
Snakewood Editions SDIG202401 (© 2024) details

French keyboard music of the rococo

The Italian harpsichordist Fernando De Luca likes to leave the trodden paths. In the course of his career he has frequently explored unknown harpsichord repertoire from the 18th century. In recent years he has been making recordings for Brilliant Classics. Since 2006 De Luca has made available private recordings of a wide range of repertoire at El Sala del Cembalo. It seems that some of the recordings released by Brilliant Classics were first published on that site, where they have been removed. This way they become available for a wider audience and in a better sound quality (the website offers recordings only in mp3). In 2021 this label released his complete recording of the harpsichord oeuvre of Christoph Graupner, which was followed by recordings of the harpsichord works by Charles Moyreau and Charles-Alexandre Jollage respectively. The latest recordings, which are the subject of this review, are again devoted to little-known French masters of generations after François Couperin. He can be considered the first main representative of what is known as the rococo, which is basically a pejorative term, originating from the late 18th century. The style is close to what is known as the galant style, which conquered most of Europe from the 1730s onwards.

Pierre-Claude Foucquet (1694-1772) [1] was born into a musical family. In New Grove we learn that it was a family of organists, whose members occupied the post of organist at St Eustache in Paris from 1681 to 1783. He himself obtained this post in 1712, and in 1758 he was appointed organist of the royal chapel, as successor to François Dagincourt, and in 1761 he became organist for the fourth quarter of the year at Notre Dame, where his colleagues were Louis-Claude Daquin, Claude-Bénigne Balbastre and Armand-Louis Couperin. As these were all prestigious masters of the organ, Foucquet must have been a man of repute, but today he is nearly forgotten. As far as I know, none of his harpsichord works has been recorded before.

Apart from a single minuet which was included in a German collection published in Berlin in 1763, his complete output was published in three books between 1749 and 1754. The first book includes a preface, a method of learning the keyboard in one lesson, tables of ornaments and scale fingerings. What is notable in all three books is the fact that nearly every piece is either a character piece or a piece of a descriptive nature, and that Foucquet frequently uses the form of the rondeau, which was very popular in France in his time.

As is so often the case, it is mostly impossible to interpret the character pieces. The first book is a suite of connected pieces with the collective title Les Caractères de la Paix. It is a kind of battle scene, which opens with a march, followed by a fanfare, including a depiction of the roaring of cannons. The closing sections are Les Ris and Les Jeux, which may refer to the celebrations after the victory. The second book opens with a march, called Marche des Pèlerins de Cythère. This may well refer to a painting by Jean-Antoine Watteau, Le Pèlerinage à l'île de Cythère. "The painting portrays a "fête galante"; an amorous celebration or party enjoyed by the aristocracy of France after the death of Louis XIV, which is generally seen as a period of dissipation and pleasure, and peace, after the sombre last years of the previous reign." (Wikipedia) In the third book we find some pieces which reflect the idealization of the countryside, a feature of 18th-century France.

In the second production we meet Pierre Thomas Dufour (c1721-1786) [2], who does not have an entry in New Grove. Very little is known about him. Like many French composers of harpsichord music, he was active as an organist: the printed edition of his harpsichord works, dating from around 1770, describes him as organist of the churches Saint-Jean-en-Grève and Saint-Laurent in Paris. The booklet mentions c1750 as the date these pieces have been written.

The book comprises 33 dances and character pieces (32 in the recording, as De Luca plays two of them as one), two concertos and a single piece with the title Carillon. They are divided into groups according to key, but that is ignored in the track-list. The book opens appropriately with a prélude. In the 18th century the higher echelons of society, especially in France, idealized 'natural life' at the countryside. Two instruments were associated with it: the musette and the hurdy-gurdy (vielle). Not surprisingly, Dufour included two pieces referring to them; for the performance De Luca uses the buff stop. Full chords are to be expected in air en choeur as well as in La Majestueuse. De Luca does not make an attempt to explain the titles, so one has to use one's own imagination. One of them is Gigue - Suitte de la Chasse (the original edition includes a separate piece, called La Chasse). The runs may be an illustration of the hunt; there is a sudden descending figure which could be interpreted as the falling of the prey. And then we have Les Matelots, meaning "sailors". It includes a passage with octave jumps the right hand, resulting in a sequence of high notes. Could that be a depiction of a ship's bell? The left hand plays Alberti basses, a feature of music in the galant idiom. Badine means "riding whip"; this piece includes a fast legato episode, which may depict a gallop. Notable is the very free treatment of the dance rhythm in the petitte sarabande.

In the first half of the 18th century the Italian style had grown in popularity. In the oeuvre of Moyreau we encountered several pieces entitled concerto, and in Dufour's oeuvre we find also two, both in three movements. The two middle movements are rondeaus; like Foucquet, Dufour uses it frequently: apart from these two, twelve pieces are in rondeau form (again, not indicated in the track-list). The Carillon, which closes the book, is another specimen of a popular genre at the time.

Jean-Jacques Beauvarlet-Charpentier (1734-1794) [3] enjoys a certain reputation among organists and lovers of organ music. He was active as organist in Lyon and also played the organ at the Concert Spirituel in Paris. Organ pieces by him have been recorded and are included in organ recitals and recorded anthologies. He has also left some instrumental music, especially pieces for harpsichord and violin. His Livre de Pièces de Clavecin was published around 1770, but has remained largely unknown. In the work-list in New Grove it is not even mentioned.

"Towards the end of his stay in Lyons the programmes grew increasingly trivial, and Jean-Jacques played chiefly comic-opera tunes and overtures", writes New Grove, and those who know something about organists and composers of organ music in 18th-century France may now immediately think of one of his contemporaries, Claude-Bénigne Balbastre. He did the same, and his harpsichord music - which is far better-known than Beauvarlet-Charpentier's - is often considered a token of the demise of keyboard music in France in the second half of the 18th century. Some of his harpsichord works are rather trivial indeed, and that also goes for the pieces by Beauvarlet-Charpentier.

The book includes sixteen pieces; all but one have titles, which seem to refer to personalities, concrete or imaginary, like La Cécile and La Suzanne, but also La Redmond, La Bressol and La Motet. One won't find any of the titles in a dictionary. The exception is a pair of minuets. Eleven of the pieces have a tempo indication: nine are marked allegro, one presto and one andante. "[A] salient feature of this music is the use of textures and progressions typical of orchestral writing", Fernando De Luca writes in his liner-notes. As a result many pieces are quite noisy, and full of effects. It is fair to say that subtlety is not one of the features of Beauvarlet-Charpentier's harpsichord music. The pieces that - as far as I am concerned - are the most enjoyable are those that have the addition aria: La Siran and La Bressol. Given the nature of the book as a whole, one won't probably be surprised that the last piece, La Delarouë, is marked La Chasse.

Those who don't appreciate Balbastre, do better to stay away from this recording. Those who do enjoy his oeuvre may also like these pieces by Beauvarlet-Charpentier. And for those who are interested in the development of keyboard music in France this release is certainly one to investigate, as it is such a perfect illustration of what indeed may be considered the demise of the French harpsichord school.

A sceptical reader may think that music that seemingly never has attracted the attention of today's performers must be of mediocre quality. That is questionable. History is not always fair, and too many performers confine themselves to the standard repertoire. Fortunately, there are artists who look beyond the obvious, and Fernando De Luca is one of them. We should be thankful for him and performers like him. Obviously, the appreciation of music is partly a matter of taste. I certainly was not enthusiastic about every piece by the above-mentioned Moyreau. Overall I rate the music of Fouquet and Dufour higher than his. I am less enthusiastic about Beauvarlet-Charpentier: like the oeuvre of Balbastre, it moves between good and trivial.

De Luca does not give much away about his assessment of the music he has recorded. I don't know if he sometimes decides to ignore certain repertoire because a lack of quality, and in his liner-notes he quotes the rather negative assessment of Beauvarlet-Charpentier's organ music in New Grove without comment. It seems to me that it is a good thing that he just brings this repertoire to the attention of lovers of keyboard music. Let them judge for themselves. From a historical point of view these recordings are certainly interesting: they give the listener a good insight into the development of French keyboard music in the course of the 18th century, and De Luca is the perfect advocate of these composers. In these recordings he shows his great skills, both technically and stylistically. He does more than just play the notes; his performances are imaginative, for instance in the addition of ornamentation, and he is not afraid to display the eccentricities. At the same time, the lyrical pieces also come off very nicely. If there are some dull moments in these recordings, that is not his fault.

With Jean-Baptiste Parant (c1730-c1780) [4] we meet another unknown quantity: he has no entry in New Grove, and very little is known about him. Like the composers discussed so far, he was active as organist. It seems very likely that he was blind, as he was organist at the Quinze-Vingts, a hospital established by Louis IX in Paris in the mid-13th century with beds for 300 of the city's needy blind. "Those members of the community who had rudiments of music were assigned to play the church organ", we read in the booklet; Parant was likely the resident who in 1760 applied for the post. His Premier Livre de Pièces de Clavecin, published in Paris around 1762, was dedicated to Louise Angélique d'Harcourt, daughter of the fourth duke of the Harcourt dynasty and later to become the mother superior at the Convent of the Visitation in Bayeux. Several of the 16 pieces in the book refer to her, such as thr first, La d'Harcourt.

With this collection of pieces we take a step back, so to speak, not so much chronologically, but stylistically, coming from Beauvarlet-Charpentier. The effects we find in the latter's oeuvre (and that of Balbastre) are not entirely absent here; especially the last two, La De Beuvron and La Lionoise, include some percussionistic effects that would not be out of place in the oeuvre of the two just mentioned, but overall Parant's music is closer to that of Fouquet and Dufour. Given the popularity of the form of the rondeau it does not surprise that Parant uses it frequently. Character pieces are dominating, but there are also four dances: three minuets and a pair of gavottes.

Given the nature and the quality of this book it is surprising that it has never been recorded before. Fernando De Luca did record it, and one can find the entire book on his site, but it is the Spanish harpsichordist Eva del Campo who recorded it for Brilliant Classics. She delivers a very good and enjoyable performance, with nice ornamentation and a good use of the various registration options of her harpsichord, a copy of a Ruckers in a ravalement of Taskin. This is an excellent addition to the impressive collection of harpsichord recordings released by Brilliant Classics.

[1] Pierre-Claude Foucquet: Pièces de clavecin
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96772 (© 2024) details

[2] Pierre Thomas Dufour: Pièces de clavecin
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96771 (© 2024) details

[3] Jean-Jacques Beauvarlet-Charpentier: 1er livre de Pièces de Clavecin
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96774 (© 2024) details

[4] Jean Baptiste Parant: Premier Livre de Pièces de Clavecin
Eva del Campo, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96854 (© 2024) details

Sopranos in opera - male and female

From the late 17th century until the beginning of the classical era, composers and audiences had a strong preference for high voices. Sopranos and altos were dominating operas and other dramatic works. Often these were castratos, but some of their female counterparts also earned quite some fame. No wonder, then, that there are more discs with baroque opera arias by sopranos and altos than by tenors and basses. Three are reviewed here, and it is notable that two of them are by male sopranos, although only one of them specifically manifests himself as such. However, let me start with a 'conventional' soprano.

It is always nice to be able to listen to a singer's debut recording, as it tells much about what he or she is about and has to offer. Jeanine De Bique [1] seems to have been active at the music scene for some time before she was given the opportunity to make a solo recording. She is not a baroque specialist, but as so many opera singers, she was keen to record some Handel arias. However, she "was adamant not to do a Best of Handel Arias for soprano", as the musicologist Yannis François writes in the booklet. Therefore they developed a concept which is summarized in the disc's title: "Mirrors". On the reverse we read: "For her debut album (...) Jeanine De Bique unveils the different reflections of the same female characters of Handel and his contemporaries, as though looking through a broken mirror". It resulted in a programme which includes arias by composers whose operas are little-known, especially Carl Heinrich Graun, Gennaro Manna and Riccardo Broschi, but also gives an interesting insight into the world of 18th-century opera. It is known that some librettos were set by several composers. Interestingly, we find here arias from two operas, called Rodelinda, but Handel and Graun used almost completely different librettos. Equally interesting is that the same aria is not always sung by the same character. Only in one case the same text is performed in two different settings: 'Mi restano le lagrime' from Handel's Alcina and Broschi's L'isola d'Alcina, but whereas in Handel it is Alcina herself that sings it, in Broschi's opera it is given to Morgana. It demonstrates that the connection between text and character in baroque opera was rather loose. I already mentioned Broschi as one of the composers included here whose opera oeuvre is little-known. I did not mention Vinci and Telemann, as their operatic output has received some interest in recent years. That does not mean that it has become familiar, and that makes the inclusion of an aria by each of them most welcome.
Obviously one is curious about what a singer brings to the table in such arias. I have mixed feelings. As is mostly the case, we should not expect a way of singing that comes close to the baroque aesthetic ideals. Jeanine De Bique is a product of a very contemporary style of singing baroque opera. I noted with satisfaction that she takes quite some freedom in the ornamentation department (although I am not sure that they are of her invention - were they written-out by Luca Quintavalle?), but does not exaggerate in that she competely rewrites, as it were, the dacapo sections; the original is still recognizable. I also noted that her performances are differentiated according to what an aria is about; there is no doubt that she has quite some dramatic talent. Unfortunately she uses too much vibrato nearly all the time. That goes especially for the more dramatic stuff, such as the aria fro Graun's Cesare e Cleopatra, which opens the programme. However, there are also much more restrained arias, where she reduces her vibrato, and that makes things so much better. There she shows to be an expressive interpreter. Those are the arias I enjoyed most. She definitely has many possibilities, and it is probably dependent on the people she is working with, which of these are explored. The way the programme has been put together and the inclusion of unknown arias is what makes this disc attractive to opera-lovers, independent of what they think about the way they are performed.

Nicolò Balducci [2] is a singer, who is labelled an alto (the cover says 'countertenor'), but is able to sing in the soprano range. Therefore I marked him as 'male soprano' in my review of his recording debut ("Castrapolis"). His programme was quite interesting in that it included arias by composers one does not often encounter on recital discs, let alone that their operas are recorded at full length. Among them are Giuseppe Porsile and Domenico Natale Sarro (or Sarri). The second disc is a little different: it includes arias by two little-known composers - Riccardo Broschi and Egidio Romualdo Duni - but the largest part of the programme is devoted to Handel and Vivaldi, by far the most popular baroque opera composers of today. In the Handel section we even find some evergreens: 'Lascio ch'io pianga' and 'Ombra mai fu'. The title of his disc nicely sums up what baroque operas are about: love and sadness - often connected. The unknown composers are undoubtedly the most interesting part of the programme. Broschi - who also appears on Jeanine De Bique's disc - is a relatively unknown name, but he was the brother of a famous singer, Carlo Broschi, better known as the castrato Farinelli. The arias performed here may have been sung at first by castratos, and Broschi's aria was even performed by his brother, during a performance of an opera by Johann Adolf Hasse. It attests to the habit of famous singers at the time to include their favourite arias in whatever opera they were singing, whether they fit into the work or not. Vivaldi's operas are regularly performed these days, but single arias have not reached the evergreen status as some of Handel's. Therefore the Vivaldi part of the programme is an interesting section of this disc as well. I would have liked some lesser-known arias by Handel, but I can live with the evergreens performed here, if they are sung as nicely as here by Nicolò Balducci. My positive impressions of his debut are confirmed here. He has what it takes to bring opera arias to life, and I am sure he will do well in complete opera performances too. There are many things to enjoy, such as the freedom in the recitatives and the fact that he does not exaggerate in the addition of ornamentation and cadenzas. He uses a bit too much vibrato to my taste, but it did not spoil my enjoyment. Balducci is a singer to keep an eye on, and I am curious to hear how he is going to develop.

In contrast to Balducci, Samuel Mariño [3] is a real soprano. The booklet tells us that his speaking voice is the same as his singing voice. That sets him apart from those singers who are able to sing well into the soprano range, but through vocal technique. Mariño's recital is also different from most recital discs of his peers in that it focuses on later repertoire: all the pieces are from the classical era, probably with the exception of Christoph Willibald von Gluck's Orfeo, which is not quite classical, but also not baroque, and was an important trailblazer for the classical style in opera. It is Mariño's mentor Barbara Bonney, who stimulated him to explore the music by Mozart and contemporaries. The programme includes arias from Le nozze di Figaro, Il re pastore, La clemenza di Tito and Mitridate. In addition we get arias from two operas by Domenico Cimarosa, who is almost exclusively known for Il matrimonio segreto, and from the only extant opera by Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges. The latter arias are what makes this disc interesting, although those who have a special liking of Mozart's operas may well be curious to know how arias they know very well, are sung by a male soprano, something that very seldom happens in live performances.
Before I heard this disc I had heard some of Mariño's live performances, and I wondered what the fuss was about. I did not like what I heard, and thought: another soprano who ignores what we know about the aesthetics of the time the music was written. Especially his heavy vibrato and exaggerated ornamentation and cadenzas put me off. Some of that is noticeable here as well, and that is the reason that I don't particularly like this recital. However, it is not as bad as I had expected on the basis of live performances. There is too much vibrato, but it is not as wide as I had heard before, and the whole is not as extravagant as I had feared. Opera lovers may investigate this disc, because of the lesser-known arias, and just to experience the singing of a natural soprano. One can only hope that Mariño is willing to turn to a more 'authentic' way of singing 18th-century opera.

[1] "Mirrors"
Jeanine De Bique, soprano; Concerto Köln/Luca Quintavalle
Berlin Classics 0302017BC (© 2021) details

[2] "Amore Dolore"
Nicolò Balducci, soprano; Baroque Academy Gothenburg Symphony/Dan Laurin
BIS 2645 (© 2023) details

[3] "Samuel Mariño, sopranista"
Samuel Mariño, soprano; La Cetra Barockorchester Basel/Andrea Marcon
Decca 4852943 (© 2022) details

The keyboard in Central Europe, 1750-1830

During second half of the 18th century and the first half of the 19th century a large amount of keyboard music was written for a variety of instruments, from harpsichord to fortepiano. Today only a small portion of that repertoire is performed and recorded. The three Viennese classical composers Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven overshadow most of their contemporaries. Although representatives of historical performance practice have always liked to look beyond the standard repertoire, it is only in the last decades that composers in the shadow of the masters have received serious attention. However, even today many composers of keyboard music are forgotten. "Some of these pieces might not have the sublime perfection of the greatest masterpieces, but they do offer a lot of charm, inventiveness, and playful expression that reflects the period and style in which they were written. In this sense, these works may be even better witnesses to their time than the pinnacles of timeless genius", Menno van Delft writes in the booklet that accompanies the first recording to be reviewed here, appropriately called "Miscellanea" [1].
The inspiration for this project was the large collection of photocopies of keyboard music that the late Christopher Hogwood, one of the pioneers of historical performance practice, had put together during his career, based on scores in archives, libraries and private and public collections. This came into the hands of Menno van Delft, and together with his colleague Artem Belogurov, he sorted it out and created a survey of what was written in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Apart from pieces for solo keyboard, the programme includes items for two keyboards, keyboard à quatre mains and even a piece for six hands at one keyboard. The fact that only one piece for two keyboards is played - Mozart's Sonata in D (KV 448) - is no co-incidence: most of the music played here was intended for amateurs, and only a few were rich enough to possess two keyboard instruments. Playing the keyboard à quatre mains, on the other hand, was very popular, and that explains that quite a number of such pieces are included here. Mozart's sonata does receive an unusual performance, though: it is played with a combination of harpsichord and fortepiano, which is seldom practised. That does create a bit of a problem here, because the fortepiano dates from 1805, which is too 'modern' for a piece which was written in 1781. The balance is too much in favour of the fortepiano. Its use in some other pieces is also anachronistic, but this is the effect of the decision to use four historical instruments, which otherwise is praiseworthy, especially as all of them are wonderful instruments: apart from the fortepiano a clavichord of 1803, a Kirkman harpsichord of 1766 and a house organ of probably 1813, built by Gideon Thomas Bätz. The latter two instruments are part of the collection of Amerongen castle, in the south of the Dutch province of Utrecht, where the recordings took place.
Among the composers one finds some names that have become pretty well-known in recent years, such as Hässler, Reichardt, Wagenseil and Kozeluch, but also 'nobodies' such as Palschau, Saupe, Schwenke, Stanzen or Schmiedt. One won't find such names on the concert programmes of the celebrated pianists of our time, and their music may not do very well on the modern concert grand anyway. It is no surprise that quite a number of pieces are played on the clavichord, the most intimate of all keyboard instruments, which was very popular in the 17th and 18th centuries, and perfectly suited for domestic music making.
All in all, this is wonderful set of pieces, played on very interesting and beautiful instruments, and by two masters of historical keyboard playing. This is a mouthwatering production for all keyboard aficionados, and one can only dream of what else the Hogwood collection may include. Let's hope this set of discs (the third is only available as digital download) is not going to be the last exploration of that rich source.

Although Van Delft and Belogurov included a piece by the English composer Thomas Arne, otherwise they focuse on what was written in the German-speaking world. Therefore it makes sense to review here some other discs which also contain music from this part of Europe. The composers all belong to the same category as nearly all those represented in the 'Miscellanea': they are largely forgotten.
Ernst Wilhelm Wolf (1735-1792) [2] is a case in point. It is only recently that his oeuvre is receiving some attention, which has resulted in recordings of sacred music (Passion, cantatas), string quartets and keyboard works. The latest in the latter category is a recital of four sonatas and a fantasia with thirteen variations, performed on a tangent piano by Flóra Fábri. When Wolf was just 17 years of age, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach heard him play one of his own pieces, and he was very impressed. He continued to follow what Wolf was producing, and the admiration was mutual. Wolf earned a reputation as one of the most original composers of his generation. Ernst Ludwig Gerber wrote about him: "Wolf (...) is not only (...) one of our classical and best composers in every category, but also a true original." He led an adventurous life, moving from one place to another, often driven by a lack of money, which also made him composing music in what may not have been his preferred genres, such as operettas. From the 1760s he worked in Weimar, where he became a leading figure in music life, very much at the dismay of Goethe. His oeuvre comprises music for the stage, sacred works and instrumental music of various kinds, from keyboard concertos to music for keyboard solo. The specimens of the latter category recorded by Flóra Fábri show a strong similarity with the works of CPE Bach. That goes especially for the two sonatas from 1774, which include quite some surprises, such as sudden pauses. Another specimen of this similarity is the Fantasia mit einem dreizehnmal variierten Thema; the fantasia could be part of one of CPE Bach's collections. The performances by Ms Fábri do these works full justice; this disc is a really excellent case for the oeuvre of Wolf. That is also due to the instrument: an original tangent piano by Christoph Friedrich Schmahl, built in 1790, which suits Wolfs music very well. There is every reason to pay more attention to the oeuve of this composer, whose reputation in his own time was well deserved.

Anton Eberl (1765-1807) [3] is another composer from the second half of the 18th century, who has received quite some interest recently through recordings, mostly of music in which the keyboard - more particularly the fortepiano - plays a key role. The latter is not surprising, as this was his instrument. He made a career as a keyboard player and composer, who spent most of his life in Vienna, but was in St Petersburg from 1796 to 1800. In our time he has become known at first when Concerto Köln recorded his Symphony in E flat, which had its premiere alongside the first performance of Beethoven's Eroica. Most in the audience preferred his symphony to Beethoven's, as they also found Eberl's keyboard works more accessible than those of Beethoven. Sayuri Nagoya selected keyboard works from his early and from his late period, which show the stylistic development in his oeuvre. Eberl was close to both Mozart and Beethoven, and it is telling that his Sonata in c minor, op. 1 was first published under Mozart's name. The later works are much more pianistic, and also more dramatic, closer to Beethoven than to Mozart, and pointing in the direction of the romantic style. Especially the Sonata in C, op. 43 is a highly dramatic work, whose fast movements include marked contrasts, which Ms Nagoya, in her liner-notes, compares to opera. The developments in Eberl's keyboard oeuvre come off well, but would have been even clearer, if two different instruments had been used. Sayuri Nagoya plays a Brodmann of 1805 which perfectly fits the sonatas opp. 27 and 43, which date from around that year. They are less suited for the earlier works, the Variations on 'Bei Männern, welche Liebe fühlen' (1791 or earlier) and the Sonatina in C, op. 5 of 1796. A Stein or early Walter may have been more appropriate here. However, that does not compromise the importance of this disc, as it shows the quality of Eberl as a composer of keyboard music. Sayuri Nagoya is an excellent advocate of his music, and the Brodmann fortepiano is a very fine instrument. For lovers of classical keyboard music, this is an essential addition to their CD collection. (The liner-notes are a bit confusing as it is suggested that the opp. 27 and 43 include more than one sonata, which seems not the case, if we have to believe New Grove and the Petrucci Music Library.)

Wolf, Eberl and several composers represented in the collection 'Miscellanea' were held im high esteem in their own time, but are hardly known or even virtually forgotten in our time. That also goes for Johann Gottfried Schwanberger (or Schwan(en)berg) (1737-1804) [4], who was nearly his whole life active in Braunschweig, where he was appointed organist at the court in the 1720s. He had his talent at the keyboard from his father, who was a pupil of Johann Sebastian Bach. He stayed for more than six years in Italy, where Johann Adolf Hasse was one of his teachers. After his return he was appointed Hofkapellmeister at the Opera, at the age of just 24. His oeuvre comprises operas, secular cantatas, sacred music, symphonies and keyboard works. He was held in high esteem by Charles Burney and Ernst Ludwig Gerber. Today he is almost forgotten; the only work that has been recorded to date is the sinfonia from one of his operas. It is due to the collector of musical instruments Peter Karsten, that his eight keyboard sonatas could be recorded on a unique fortepiano that was built by Carl Lemme, of whom only four instruments have been preserved: two clavichords and two fortepianos. The instrument used for this recording is the only one which is in playable condition, and was built in 1796 in Braunschweig, which makes it quite likely that Schwanberger has played it himself. It has been preserved almost unchanged. This production is interesting for two reasons: it offers the possibility to become acquainted with Schwanberger's music, and it presents a historical instrument by a little-known keyboard maker in virtually authentic state. The sonatas are rather short works; the entire programme takes less than 54 minutes. One sonata is in one movement, four are in two movements, and the remaining three have three movements. They are specimens of the classical style; the right hand has most of the thematic material, but the left hand is more than just an accompaniment, as was the case in the galant idiom. The booklet - only in German - is entirely devoted to the composer, the instrument and its builder and their historical and musical environment. The sonatas are not analysed or put into their historical perspective. It would be interesting to hear more of Schwanberger's oeuvre. It seems to me that these eight sonatas won't shock the world, and it may be hard to experience them the way they were received in his time. However, I like them and I think they are valuable additions to the keyboard repertoire of the time. Claus-Eduard Hecker delivers good performances, but probably a bit too straightforward. I would have liked a little more differentiation in articulation and dynamics, and in the treatment of the tempi.

[1] "Miscellanea"
Menno van Delft, Artem Belogurov, harpsichord, clavichord, fortepiano
TRPTK TTK 0047 (© 2021) details

[2] Ernst Wilhelm Wolf: "Selected Works for Clavier"
Flóra Fábri, tangent piano
CPO 555 490-2 (© 2022) details

[3] Anton Eberl: "Piano Sonatas & Variations"
Sayuri Nagoya, fortepiano
Brilliant Classics 96509 (© 2022) details

[4] Johann Gottfried Schwanberger: "Claviersonaten"
Claus-Eduard Hecker, fortepiano
Prospect 00371 (© 2022) details

Vocal recitals, from alto to bass

The arias in vocal recitals of baroque music are mostly taken from operas. That is also the case with three of the discs to be reviewed here. However, the first includes arias from oratorios, and the last a mixture of oratorio and opera. The oratorio was one of the main genres of vocal music during the baroque period. In the mid-17th century it developed in Rome, and came in two forms: either written for ecclesiastical use, on a text in Latin, or a so-called oratorio volgare, a piece in Italian, which was performed outside a liturgical context. This way the message of the church - and especially that of the Counter Reformation - could be disseminated among the people who did not understand Latin. In the course of time the latter form became dominant: from the late 17th century onwards Italian composers wrote their oratorios on librettos in Italian and stylistically they became closer to opera. Most oratorios of the 18th century are basically operas on a sacred subject. That could be either the life of a saint (or episodes from it) or a story from the Bible. Philippe Jaroussky [1] has recorded a selection of arias from Italian oratorios from the late 17th to the mid-18th century. Most of them are appearing on disc for the first time, and that is telling: there seems to be more interest in operas of the late baroque period than in oratorios. That is very regrettable, as this disc shows. Jaroussky has undoubtedly selected the best arias, but one may assume that their quality says a lot about the level of the oratorios from which they are taken. It is impossible to choose highlights, but one of them is definitely the aria 'Il rimorso opprime il seno' and the preceding accompanied recitative from La conversione di Sant'Agostino by Johann Adolf Hasse, which is a perfect example of a 'sacred opera'. One easily recognizes here the operatic skills of Hasse who was the most celebrated opera composer of his time for a reason. Very moving is the last aria, 'È morto il mio Gesù', from the oratorio Morte e sepoltura di Christo by Antonio Caldara. Most composers included here have written several oratorios, and one can only wish that this part of their oeuvre is going to be explored more extensively than has been the case to date. The performances are excellent: Jaroussky's relatively light and agile voice is perfectly suited to this repertoire, and this recording is close to his heart, as he explains in his notes in the booklet. That shows: he sings with great conviction and engagement, and he is excellent form. Apart from some exaggerated cadenzas he avoids all eccentricities, and often he sings with great subtlety. The ensemble is his best possible partner, and delivers outstanding accounts of the orchestral scores. This disc makes one longing for more.

One of the most influential poems of the Renaissance was Ludovico Ariosti's Orlando furioso, which inspired authors of opera librettos and their composers, and whose various characters became the subjects of cantatas. The Italian alto Filippo Minecccia [2] recorded a programme of arias from various operas, in which some of them figure. Orlando is the title character of operas by Handel and Vivaldi and he also appears in Porpora's L'Angelica. Ruggiero is one of the characters in Orlando generoso by Agostino Steffani, Polinesso in Handel's Ariodante. Among the lesser-known characters are Lurciano (Wagenseil, Ariodante) and Ergasto (Mele, Angelica e Medoro). Medoro is one of the title characters of Angelica e Medoro, which is attributed to Giuseppe Millico. The latter work dates from 1783 and closes the programme, which opens with Steffani's Orlando generoso of 1691. This indicates the wide chronological scope of the programme, which explains the stylistic differences. The problem with aria recitals is the lack of dramatic context. In this case that may be less of a problem as the stories about the different characters are rather well-known, at least among opera lovers. It is nice that in some cases the aria is preceded by a recitative, which offers at least some of the context. It also gives the interpreter the opportunity to show his or her skills in the interpretation of recitatives, which is harder than one may think. Mineccia does well in them, and he certainly does not lack in dramatic craft. That said, I am not entirely satisfied by this recital. Over the years I have heard a number of recordings by him and I mostly enjoyed them. Here I find his voice sometimes a bit harsh, lacking in warmth and suppleness. There is also too much vibrato, which is stylistically debatable and not nice to hear. In the aria from Porpora's L'Angelica he adds a cadenza which crosses the compass of the role, which is undesirable, and he sings it at full power. That is a bad habit of many opera singers these days. Unfortunately the orchestra also does not always produce a pleasant sound. With eight violins and two violas it is larger than the orchestras in some aria recordings, but in this repertoire I could imagine an even larger ensemble. What speaks in favour of this disc is that it has a clear subject which has been worked out well, and includes extracts from operas that are not that well-known. Mele and Millico are virtually unknown qualities, and Wagenseil is also not known for his operas. From the angle of subject and repertoire this is definitely a very interesting disc.

The Italian tenor Marco Angioloni [3] put himself into the shoes of Annabale Pio Fabbri, a singer and composer from Bologna, who appeared in operas by various composers, among them Vivaldi and Handel. Tenors usually did not take the main roles in operas in the 18th century. That was different in the 17th century, when they often played a key role in the comical part of operas, and also in the 19th century, when they often sang the title role. However, in the 18th century some composers scored major roles for a tenor. One could see it as a time in which they gradually gained in status. Some of the arias by Handel may attest to that. Four arias are first recordings, among them two from Rinaldo, which may surprise, as this is one of Handel's most frequently-recorded operas. However, the two arias are from the revival of 1731; in that performance the role of Goffredo, which was scored for an alto in the first performances of 1711, was rescored for tenor, and sung by Fabbri. The revival of Publio Cornelio Scipione in 1730 was even more drastic in that the title role, which in the first performances of 1726 was scored for alto, was rewritten for Fabbri. He was considered one of the greatest singers of his time, and according to Angioloni, in his liner-notes, he had a 'pure lyric tenor' voice, and "without a doubt (...) is one of the tenors who contributed to the development of this tessitura at the beginning of the 18th century". The programme offers arias from operas, in which he participated. Apart from Handel and Vivaldi, the programme includes arias by Alessandro Scarlatti, Domenico Sarro and Antonio Caldara. All of them are first recordings, which bears witness to the lack of recordings of the operas by these composers. Angioloni thinks that Fabbri had the same kind of voice as he has, and he may well be right. His voice is indeed lyrical, and suits the selected arias perfectly. I like his singing, and I hope to hear more from him. His interpretations are stylish, and he never goes over the top in ornamentation and cadenzas. The way he treats the recitatives betrays his Italian roots: they sound completely natural, both in his pronunciation and in his rhythmic liberties. The orchestra is a bit on the small side; I would prefer a slightly larger orchestra, especially in Handel. Because of the many first recordings and the performances this is a disc every opera lover may want to add to his collection.

Antonio Caldara is one of those composers of the baroque era who were celebrities in their own time, but play a marginal role in modern music life. Some of his works are rather well-known, such as his oratorio Maddalena ai piedi di Cristo , but the largest part of his sizeable oeuvre waits to be rediscovered. He worked in Venice, Rome and Barcelona, before moving to Vienna, where he for many years was the favourite composer of emperor Charles VI. There he wrote liturgical music, cantatas, serenatas, oratorios and operas. The bass Alexandre Baldo [4] recorded a number of arias from operas and oratorios which Caldara composed for the court in Vienna. He is accompanied by a small instrumental ensemble, in which he used to play the viola, before turning to a career as a singer. The ensemble plays with one instrument per part, and in some pieces that may be appropriate. That goes for Scipione africano il maggiore, which is called a festa di camera per musica, and the oratorio Il Batista, which was performed in the emperor's private chapel. In other cases a larger orchestra would have been more in line with the performance practice at the court and have done more justice to the dramatic nature of an aria. It took me a while before I started to appreciate Alexandre Baldo's singing. I liked his voice, but found his performances a little stiff and flat. This may also be due to the arias themselves, which are probably not always top-class. It is in the arie di bravura that I liked his singing best, and the arias from the two oratorios also come off well. Even so, the cadenzas are not very imaginative, and I would have liked stronger differences between good and bad notes, especially in coloratura. However, a disc with arias from Caldara's oeuvre is welcome anyway, as he deserves much more interest and he should be better represented on disc. Baldo has himself dug up these arias and found out who sang them in Caldara's time. He also wrote the informative liner-notes. It is a bit odd, though, that none of the people participating in this production, seems to know that the title character of Il Batista - mentioned 'Sto Giovanni Battista' in the score - is generally known as (St) John the Baptist, not as 'the prophet Baptist'.

[1] "La vanità del mondo"
Philippe Jaroussky, alto; Artaserse
Erato 0190295179298 (© 2020) details

[2] "Orlando - amore, gelosia, follia"
Filippo Mineccia, alto; The New Baroque Times/Pablo García
Glossa GCD 923523 (© 2020) details

[3] "A Baroque Tenor - Arias for Annibale Fabbri"
Marco Angioloni, tenor; Il Groviglio/Stéphane Fuget
Pan Classics PC 10437 (© 2022) details

[4] Antonio Caldara: "Arias for Bass"
Alexandre Baldo, bass-baritone; Ensemble Mozaïque
Pan Classics PC 10 447 (© 2023) details

The 2nd International Chopin Competition on Period Instruments - Observations and considerations

Recently I have been following parts of the International Chopin Competition on period instruments, which took place in Warsaw and ended on 14 October. Chopin is not exactly a favourite composer of mine, and you will not find any review of performances of his music on my website. However, as I am interested in everything that goes on in the field of historical performance practice, I was curious to see and hear how the competition was going to proceed. I am not going to give any verdict on the performances of the individual contestants. I rather offer some observations and considerations with regard to the event.

The International Chopin Competition can look back on a long history: the first edition took place in 1927. Since 1955 the competition is held every five years. It has had prestigious winners who have made a great career. In 2018 the organization held a competition for performers on period instruments for the first time. As one may gather, this did not replace the usual competition: it took place halfway the edition of 2015 and 2021 (the latter was postponed for one year due to the COVID-19 pandemic). Apparently the first edition was a success, which explains why this year the second edition was held.

In the first round 35 contestants participated. A look at their biographies revealed that, apart from some very young players at the start of their career, there were several contestants who had already made quite a career on modern piano. That is not without risk: what does it say, if a respected pianist falls at the first hurdle? The fact that they took that risk may attest to the growing respectability and importance of historical performance practice in the world of the piano. There was a time that pianists of the 'traditional school' - the large majority of professional players - looked down at historical pianos and considered them primitive predecessors of the 'superior' modern concert grand. It seems that the younger generation is more open to the playing on period instruments and can value them for what they are. Often they say that these instruments learn them a lot about how the music of the 19th century has to be performed.

At the same time, the fact that the competition on period instruments has the form of a 'special edition' shows that playing on such instruments is a speciality, and still takes a marginal place in the piano world. That probably will not change very quickly, if only because many players want to cover a chronologically wide repertoire in their recitals. It is nearly impossible to play a recital with music written over a period of, say, 150 years on the appropriate instruments. In such cases the modern concert grand is the preferred instrument. This is only going to change if performers decide to put together their programmes in a different way.

Obviously the contestants had to play pieces by Chopin. However, in the first round they also needed to play pieces by some of his Polish contemporaries and pieces by Bach (from the Well-tempered Clavier) and Mozart. The latter is rather surprising. Bach's keyboard music is not intended for fortepiano; only late in his life he became acquainted with the pianos of Silbermann. And Mozart's keyboard instruments were very different from those which were at the disposal of the contestants, the oldest of which was the copy of a Graf of 1819. I understand that the reason was that Chopin held both in high esteem and played their music. That makes sense, but then the question is: how to play them? Like Chopin? I wonder whether we know how he played Bach and Mozart, and from which editions. For the sake of 'historical correctness' the contestants could have been asked to play Bach's preludes and fugues from the Well-tempered Clavier in the edition of Czerny. Whether there are any Mozart editions of Chopin's time, I don't know.

There is every reason to be happy with the developments in the field of performance practice of 19th-century music, as was demonstrated in this competition. At the same time, I suspect that many - probably most - pianists see the use of historical instruments as just one of the options. That is better than a complete neglect or even rejection. That said, we are still far away from what would be ideal: the awareness that period instruments are a sine qua non when one does want to do justice to the intentions of a composer.

The harpsichord under Louis XV

We are used to see recordings of keyboard music by composers who are hardly known, mainly thanks to the releases of Brilliant Classics. The latter mostly include music by Italian composers. It seems that the map of the landscape of keyboard music in 18th-century France has hardly any white spots. That is a mistake, if we look at some of the releases reviewed here.

Christophe Moyreau and Charles Alexandre Jollage were contemporaries; the former is not mentioned in my edition of New Grove, the entry about the latter is confined to less than ten lines. It is interesting to listen to the oeuvre of these two in comparison: they may have been contemporaries but were stylistically different.

Christophe Moyreau [1] was born in Orléans where he worked all his life. He was educated as an organist, and acted in this capacity for most of his career. Although he seems not to have left any organ works, some of his harpsichord pieces that Fernando de Luca included in his recording, can be played on the organ, such as Les Cloches d'Orléans, which is included in his Op. 5 and closes the sixth disc. His keyboard works were published around 1753; the last disc of the set includes 'sinfonias' and 'concertos' which are dated 'c1760'.

The most common form of harpsichord works in France was the suite. In the 17th century composers left it to the performers to put together a suite according to their own preferences. In the 18th century composers published their pièces de clavecin as fixed suites. Another development was the introduction of character pieces. These became increasingly important and started to overshadow the traditional dances. Often suites also included pieces based on a basso ostinato, such as chaconne and passacaille. Moyreau's five books of harpsichord pieces are a little different. They include suites, but also pieces with the title of sonata, in four movements, following the Italian model: slow - fast - slow - fast. In addition there are some concertos and a few individual overtures. Some suites are extremely long: the Op. 1 includes a Suite in d minor, which takes here the complete first disc, lasting more than 64 minutes. Some individual pieces are quite long as well: La Parissienne from Op. 5 takes more than eight minutes, Le Pegase from Op. 4 almost nine. In the above-mentioned Suite in d minor we find some sort of operatic scenes, about the Cyclops and Apollo.

Stylistically Moyreau's music reminds me of that of his contemporary Claude-Bénigne Balbastre. The first of the two pieces about the Cyclops includes effects that show strong similarity to Balbastre's , Marche des Marseillois et l'air ça-ira. Those who have a more than average knowledge of French harpsichord music know what to expect. Moyreau's music may be considered a token of the decline often associated with Balbastre. Not every lover of French harpsichord music may appreciate it. I would not recommend listening to Moyreau's music at a stretch. It is better to take one disc at a time or even a part of it. I have nothing but praise for Fernando De Luca's performance. He rightly does play Moyreau with aplomb; too much subtlety would be out of place. This is mostly pretty extraverted stuff, and that is the way De Luca treats it.

The fact that all of Moyreau's books of harpsichord pieces were published in one year, suggests that they were written over a longer period of time. Therefore, it is anything but sure that the Premier Livre de Pièces de Clavecin by Charles-Alexandre Jollage [2], which was printed in 1738, is much older. However, stylistically the pieces included in this book are much more conservative.

It is not known exactly when Jollage was born; it is assumed it must have been around 1700. The place of his birth is not known either, but it seems likely that he was from the same region as Moyreau. Like he, Jollage was educated at harpsichord and organ, and worked as organist for most of his life. In 1755 he became one of the four organists of the Notre-Dame in Paris, alongside Daquin, Armand-Louis Couperin and René Drouard du Bousset. Apparently he had worked for quite some time in Paris as a harpsichord teacher.

The first book of pieces for the harpsichord is the only music of his pen ever printed. It consists of two suites in G major/minor and in A major/minor respectively. One of the features is that some pieces are divided into two sections, the first in major, the second in minor. In accordance with the conventions of the time, most movements are character pieces. The titles are mostly hard to interpret, but Le Postillon (Suite in A major/minor) cannot be misunderstood. Another notable piece is Les Caquets (the singular means 'chatter') (Suite in G major/minor). The same suite includes L'Obstinée, which is another nice musical painting.

In New Grove Jollage's music is called "bland and conventional". I politely disagree. I have enjoyed these two suites, and they are definitely more to my taste than the music by Moyreau. Fernando De Luca has caught their character very well, and plays with more restraint and more subtlety than Moyreau's oeuvre. This is the first recording of Jollage's harpsichord music, and that is well deserved.

If there is one French composer whose harpsichord music has strong operatic traits, it is Jean-Philippe Rameau [3]. Although it dates from the time before he turned to opera, it shows that he was an operatic genius from early on. Some of his harpsichord pieces were later orchestrated and included in his operas. This was the reverse of the common habit of transcribing operatic music for harpsichord. Rameau paid tribute to the latter practice in that he published Les Indes galantes 1735 in the form of Quatre grands concerts to be played on harpsichord(s) or by an instrumental ensemble. This was the inspiration to the recording by Loris Barrucand and Clément Geoffroy. Some of the pieces need a third hand or can only be played by two players, which explains that the music on their disc is played on two harpsichords. They have chosen pieces from four operas, which are connected by the fascination for the culture of the East, and especially that of Persia.

The operatic nature of the music comes perfectly off. The interpreters play with aplomb and imagination. That said, those who know and love Rameau's operas will miss something that it a hallmark of his operas: the colours of the orchestra. Rameau was a masterful orchestrator, which earned him the admiration of composers of later generations, such as Berlioz and Debussy. This aspect is lost in a transcrioption for harpsichord(s), and therefore a disc like this may appeal more to lovers of the harpsichord than admirers of Rameau's operas.

The fourth disc does not include opera transcriptions, but is theatrical in that Céline Frisch [4] ordered the pieces with the aim of illustrating a day at the court. The first chapter is called "the beginning of the day and the mass": each day started with a mass in the Chapelle Royale. It opens with Le réveil-matin (the alarm clock) from François Couperin's 4e Ordre and closes with Carillon ou cloches by Pierre Dandrieu. The second chapter is about hunting: "Les plaisirs de la chasse". That is also the title of a cycle of pieces by Louis-Claude Daquin, which takes this entire chapter. Then comes "Promenade amoureuse et bucolique". Among the pieces are Les tendres sentiments by Joseph-Nicolas-Pancrace Royer and Le Rossignol-en-amour from Couperin's 14e Ordre. "Les jeux et le divertissement de la cour", which is about the evening entertainment, is the title of the fourth chapter. It opens with Couperin's Les Amusemens (7e Ordre) and also includes some transcriptions of operatic pieces by Rameau, from the pen of Claude-Bénigne Balbastre. At the end of the programme, the king goes to bed, with Michel Corrette's Les Étoiles.

Céline Frisch's performances are profiled characterisations of the different pieces; one of the highlights is Daquin's cycle about the hunt. Apart from Frisch's playing, it is due to the harpsichord that the various pieces come off so well: it is a copy of an instrument by Jean-Claude Goujon (before 1749), ravalé by Joachim Swanen (1784). It has a strong sound, and also has a knee-lever mechanism, which allows for a change in registration. Frisch uses it in Balbastre. Rather than simply presenting a random selection of pieces, she tells a kind of story here, which makes it a very entertaining recital.

One of the composers included in her programme is the subject of the last disc to be reviewed here: François d'Agincour(t) [5], who was born and died in Rouen, where he was active as organist all his life. For some time he also acted as one of the organists of the Chapelle Royale. He was a strong admirer of François Couperin; in the fourth suite of his only book with harpsichord pieces, Premier livre de clavecin (1733), he devoted some pieces to him. He also called his suites ordres, and - like those by Couperin - they mostly consist of character or genre pieces. The book was dedicated to the Queen of France, Marie Leczinska. This explains the opening of the book with the Allemande La Couronne. The countryside makes its appearance with Les Danses Provençales. In the Second ordre we find a scene of a play, the rondeau Le Colin Maillard, which Céline Frisch also included in the chapter devoted to the entertainment at the court. The second suite ends with the beautiful Chaconne La Sonning.

D'Agincourt is one of the lesser-known composers of keyboard music from 18th-century France. That is regrettable, and it is nice that Stéphane Béchy has taken the initiative to record his harpsichord book complete; this is the first volume, which hopefully will be followed by another disc, which may also contain (at least a part of) d'Agincourt's organ works. I very much like Béchy's playing, which is stylish and subtle. This recording makes crystal clear that the negligence of d'Agincourt's oeuvre is undeserved. It's time for a revaluation. This disc helps.

[1] Charles Moyreau: "Complete Harpsichord Music"
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96285 (© 2022) details

[2] Charles-Alexandre Jollage: "Premier livre de Pièces de Clavecin"
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96773 (© 2023) details

[3] Jean-Philippe Rameau: "Fêtes Persanes"
Loris Barrucand, Clément Geoffroy, harpsichord
Château de Versailles Spectacles CVS079 (© 2022) details

[4] "L'aimable - Une journée avec Louis XV"
Céline Frisch, harpsichord
Alpha 837 (© 2022) details

[5] François d'Agincourt: "Pièces de Clavecin - Livre de 1733 Vol I"
Stéphane Béchy, harpsichord
BY Classique BY003 (© 2022) details