Antonio Caldara (c.1670-1736) was in his time a celebrated composer. He has left behind a very extensive oeuvre of operas, cantatas, masses, oratorios and motets. On this double CD the oratorio "La conversioni di Clodoveo, re di Francia" is recorded. The oratory, originally in Latin, was the spiritual opposite of the opera; gradually it has separated itself from ecclesiastical performances and became a sort of replacement of the opera during the rest periods of the theater. "La conversione" had its premiere in Rome in 1715. The libretto is based on historical facts. The story is about King Clovis, invincible and only believing in himself and Clothilde, his consort, who directs attention to his inner self and eventually converts him to the Christian faith. The performance is from Le Parlement de Musique led by Martin Gester.
No classical music collection would be complete without the music of the divine Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart! For this installment of the Premium Composers Series, two of the brightest jewels from the hänssler CLASSIC catalogue have been selected. Both of these recordings of Mozart Piano Concertos by Ivan Moravec and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields with Sir Neville Marriner received global acclaim, and remain among the most perfect interpretations of Mozart's Piano Concertos committed to disc!
This is not strictly a compilation of what the British would term "light music," for there is music of substantial weight on these two discs: e.g., Vaughan Williams's The Lark Ascending, Butterworth's A Shropshire Lad, and Elgar's Introduction and Allegro, but for the most part, Marriner and his charges offer less weighty fare that is familiar to many classical music-lovers and certainly dear to the heart of Anglophiles like this writer. From Vaughan Williams's perennial favorites, Fantasia on Greensleeves and the English Folk Song Suite, and George Butterworth's nigh-ubiquitous The Banks of Green Willow to less familiar fare like Delius's Serenade (composed to honor the 70th birthday of Frederick Delius) and the suite from Elgar's incomplete opera The Spanish Lady, this compilation of recordings–originally made in 1968, 1972, 1976, and 1979–embodies the spirit of England and does so faultlessly. This is a well chosen and exemplarily executed collection of English orchestral miniatures proffered by a conductor and orchestra whose names have become synonymous with the repertoire.
Johann Joseph Fux (1660-1740) was an influential teacher, having written 'Gradus ad Parnassum' which codified compositional principles for musical training throughout the classical era. His compositions include abundant church music, operas, and numerous suites and trio sonatas. Counterpoint in his compositions was a hallmark of his style but did not keep him from incorporating modern tendencies in his music. The 'Missa Corporis Christi' was written in February, 1713, probably written for the next Feast of Corporis Christi, which fell on June 15 in that year.
So this is, on the whole, a fine performance. The only other commercial recording of Die Meistersinger to come along in the last couple of decades has been Sawallisch's (for my review see Fanfare 18:3). And that one, despite its many virtues, is seriously disfigured by Weikl's Sachs. So if you want a Meistersinger in up-to-the-minute digital sound, you would do better with Solti. I must add, however, that while the sound on this new recording is very full and clear, it lacks warmth.
Vivaldi is best known as a composer of instrumental music, but the man has also written a lot of secular vocal music, from large-scale operas to the more intimate cantatas. "La Senna festeggiante" is not a real opera, but a 'serenata', a word derived from the Italian 'sereno' (clear). The genre was so named because the spectacles in question were performed outdoors on clear, warm summer nights. Serenatas were usually written by order of a nobleman or high clergyman, as part of large celebrations to mark a special event such as a birthday, the birth of an heir, a marriage, the arrival of an important person, and so on. They were usually performed in the principal's palace garden.
Despite all the praise heaped on this late work by England's greatest 20th-century composer, it remains a very difficult nut to crack. The best adjective to describe it would have to be "gnarly." The music is dark, dissonant, and only elusively melodic until the transfiguring finale, when sunlight finally bursts through the clouds in the form of a lyrical trumpet tune. It takes real concentration on the listener's part, and although the experience is worth the effort, it's something you have to understand from the beginning. Walton's Concerto is easier on the ear, but also of lighter musical substance. Andrew Lloyd Webber plays both pieces with total conviction and considerable tonal beauty.