MiV Home
Alix Goolden Performance Hall
February 16, 2013
If you had any lingering doubts about the entertainment value of another baroque concert, scheduled just ahead of the Pacific Baroque Festival, but not part of it, then this performance must have banished them completely. Programmed to include works from eight well and lesser known composers from late 16th to mid 18th century Italy, it created an arc of delight that had the usually self composed Victorian audience for Early Music literally stamping their approval a couple of times.
The opening canzonas by Frescobaldi for two violins, cello and continuo created a light hearted song and dance atmosphere, an introspective moment between the theorbo and cello a brief interlude before the violins burst back into their vivid dancing.
Salomone Rossi's three sonatas for two violins and continuo began with delicate phrasing and a full sweet sound. Crisp, sonorous and joyful by turns, playing with the tempi, the violins were well partnered by the clarity of the theorbo ( a cross between a lute and a sitar ... an extra long neck to allow for deeper bass sounds, 18 strings, all fingered), while at this point the harpsichord remained like an undercurrent, or the lining of a cloak which enhances the fall and movement of the outer cloth, only occasionally appearing in a dash of colour.
The Canzona for two violins, cello and continuo by Francesco Cavalli, a composer I knew nothing of, showcased the beauties of Nathan Whittaker's baroque cello with its small glowing body and deeply satisfying sound. The sheer confidence of the musical structures, the quietly searching conversation between theorbo and violin creating beautifully spacious and elegant lines, particularly effective in the slow passages, all contributed to a sense of a harmonious world order in which any serious crisis would be hard to imagine.
Dario Castelli's Sonata 1 for violin and harpsichord demonstrated an exquisite balance between the two instruments. From her intense beginning, through lilting lyrical passages and alternating fast and slow tempi, Ingrid Matthews was in complete command, flying like a butterfly through a waterfall, wings never wet, pausing for infinite moments on the edge of silence.
Satisfyingly, Giovanni Picci's Toccata for harpsichord was inserted between Castelli's two sonatas for both instruments, giving us our first exposure to the the harpsichord as a solo instrument. And what a treat to hear such emotionally expressive speed and delicacy, culminating in the drama of the final chord, before returning to the magical garden of Sonata 11, where the long tenutos and quicksilver dashes suggested a pair of mischievous children, full of laughter, imagination and surprises.
Back from the intermission for the Partita in A minor by Domenico Zipoli, Byron Schenkman collected himself for a full minute at the single keyboard of the handsomely carved and painted baroque harpsichord. With its sweet upper, rich mid and surprisingly full bass sounds, he then embarked on a journey of exquisitely precise musicianship, displaying a warmth and variety of touch in a deeply assured shaping of the work's detailed complexity with an effortless grace that held the audience spellbound, and then stamping their ovation.
For the remainder of the programme we were in more familiar territory with Sonatas by Corelli and Vivaldi. All the passion and finesse we had heard in the slighter works were now given full expression. The musicians were on top of their form and enjoying themselves immensely, fully engaged with each other. The Corelli concluded its third movement, the slow climb of the violin ending in tiny high notes evoking a distant lark on a summer dawn.
John Lenti changed his theorbo for the small-bodied early guitar and the Vivaldi Sonatas brought the concert to a close with virtuoso performances all round. Vivaldi epitomises the pleasures of the baroque, the range of moods somber and regal to vivacious, tough to fragile, the pace sinuously slow to a mounting inner frenzy, all contained within the certainties of a simple yet compelling form. The calm confidence of the final chord released yet another bout of stamping from a sated audience.
The musicians never spoke a word. None was necessary.
MiV Home