New Selection: Sonatas by a Baroque Master ANTONIO VIVALDI four Sonatas for Violoncello and Basso Continuo
Frank Cooper
The MHS Review 381 Vol. 11, NO. 3 • 1987
You probably met the Musical Heritage Society, as I did, through a Vivaldi's recording. Vivaldi's terpsichorean rhythm, and tunes slip easily into our inner ears to buoy and, occasionally, thrill us. There are patches of clever counterpoint and dazzling displays of virtuosity, marvelous textures, and subtle harmonies--the stuff to attract even the most fastidious of listeners.
The funny thing is, far too many of Vivaldi's works remain unknown. We have seen only the tip of his musical iceberg on records. Some of his lovely sacred music is now available. Eleven of his scintillating overtures have been recorded to whet our appetites for his 45 operas. And while there are plenty of his concerti on records, Vivaldi's sonatas are comparative rarities. This release brings us four of the most beautiful for cello and continuo, played on period instruments.
The "Red Priest" must have known the cello very well indeed to write for it so idiomatically. When he was 26, Vivaldi taught the young ladies of Venice's Pieta (an orphanage-conservatory) to play a family of stringed instruments, the viole all'inglese, which included a member quite similar to the cello. The cello of his day, unlike that used by most cellists today, had all gut strings, a shorter neck, a lower bridge, and a sweeter, non-aggressive sound.
The slow-fast-slow-fast sequence of movements in each of these sonatas bears eloquent witness to the composer's depth of experience, his mastery of form and expression, and his reflectiveness in old age. No young man could be so ruminative yet so brilliant at the same time. The results are, possibly, the most affective cello writing before Beethoven, and well deserving, in their warm glow, of our attention. Those fortunate enough to make room in their collections for this recording will discover real music of great beauty.
You probably met the Musical Heritage Society, as I did, through a Vivaldi's recording. Vivaldi's terpsichorean rhythm, and tunes slip easily into our inner ears to buoy and, occasionally, thrill us. There are patches of clever counterpoint and dazzling displays of virtuosity, marvelous textures, and subtle harmonies--the stuff to attract even the most fastidious of listeners.
The funny thing is, far too many of Vivaldi's works remain unknown. We have seen only the tip of his musical iceberg on records. Some of his lovely sacred music is now available. Eleven of his scintillating overtures have been recorded to whet our appetites for his 45 operas. And while there are plenty of his concerti on records, Vivaldi's sonatas are comparative rarities. This release brings us four of the most beautiful for cello and continuo, played on period instruments.
The "Red Priest" must have known the cello very well indeed to write for it so idiomatically. When he was 26, Vivaldi taught the young ladies of Venice's Pieta (an orphanage-conservatory) to play a family of stringed instruments, the viole all'inglese, which included a member quite similar to the cello. The cello of his day, unlike that used by most cellists today, had all gut strings, a shorter neck, a lower bridge, and a sweeter, non-aggressive sound.
The slow-fast-slow-fast sequence of movements in each of these sonatas bears eloquent witness to the composer's depth of experience, his mastery of form and expression, and his reflectiveness in old age. No young man could be so ruminative yet so brilliant at the same time. The results are, possibly, the most affective cello writing before Beethoven, and well deserving, in their warm glow, of our attention. Those fortunate enough to make room in their collections for this recording will discover real music of great beauty.