Georg Philipp Telemann's late work is almost inexhaustible in terms of surprises. How many times have I written this and yet I am not yet embarrassed to proclaim it again. With which creative power the 80 year old opens new worlds of expression at the end of the 18th century, one can only be astonished by his last oratorios. One of the very last - from 1761 - is his Easter oratorio "Die Auferstehung" (not to be confused with the "Auferstehung und Himmelfahrt Jesu", 1760). There is no longer a rigid sequence of recitatives and arias: flexible, almost through-composed, the music follows the strong affects of the (excellent) libretto, always in search of unconventional means of expression, such as a dramatic accompaniment, accompanied only by a highly virtuosic solo violin becomes. Or the beginning of the words: "Du tiefe, tote, grauenvolle Stille" …
Here is another fine recording of Telemann’s magnificent Thunder Ode, a work inspired by the catastrophic earthquake that destroyed Lisbon in 1755. It is coupled with one of the composer’s most jubilant cantatas, and both still impress as works that should be heard much more often, perhaps in lieu of an overplayed composition by Handel or Bach. They are surely in that league. This CD, re-issued in Chandos’ “Chaconne” line, faces inevitable comparison with the performances on Capriccio, conducted by Hermann Max, although the couplings are different. Max’s Thunder Ode is given a whole CD to itself, while his cantata recording contains two additional, and magnificent, Telemann compositions.
Hermann Max betont mit seinem vorzüglichen Ensemble die dominante Seite der Musik mit einem kammermusikalisch sensiblen Klangbild von hoher Transparenz und Plastizität. Ebenso klar und präzise musizieren auch die hervorragenden Vokalsolisten.
It figured that some other prolific composer of Handel’s time would have composed a competing “Water Music,” but Telemann’s half-hour work–otherwise known as an Overture in C–remains relatively obscure. Written for the centenary of the Hamburg Admiralty a few years after Handel’s “Water Music,” it is an invigorating piece of work, consisting of an Overture and nine dance movements with various watery descriptions from mythology that the listener can take or leave.
This new issue by Reinhard Goebel and Musica Antiqua Köln is one of their strongest to date. The programme is imaginative, the content varied and the playing of a very high order. At its heart lie Telemann’s three originally conceived and skilfully crafted concertos for four unaccompanied violins. Two of them featured in one of Goebel’s earliest recordings for DG Archiv but the new version surpasses even the elevated standards set by the other. Hard on the heels of a recent performance by the Berlin Academy of Ancient Music (Harmonia Mundi) comes another reading of Telemann’s Violin Concerto Die Relinge (The Frogs). Heavily dependent upon onomatopoeia, its humour wears a bit thin after a time; but the piece is tautly and rather untypically constructed and, in a performance of such vitality and mischievous humour as this, will probably find a good many takers.
If you're one of those who feel Telemann has gotten a bad rap, your day has come. Here's a disc that will make even diehard skeptics take another listen to this Baroque master. Reinhard Goebel and the Musica Antiqua Köln perform a program of Telemann's chamber music for strings, including a pair of symphonies (which didn't mean nearly the same thing to Telemann as it did to Mozart or Beethoven), a suite, and a series of concertos (which also meant something else to him).
With the release of this second disc in violinist Elizabeth Wallfisch's survey of the complete violin concertos of Telemann, one thing is readily apparent: the Hamburg composer wrote a lot of really fine violin concertos. Taken altogether, the seven concertos on the first volume and now these eight concertos on the second volume form a wonderful body of work as remarkable for its consistency and its diversity. That is to say, all the works are not only superbly written to show off the virtuosity of the soloist and the composer, but they are all markedly different from each other.
Unique to the current catalogue, a keyboard-only version of six attractive suites by the perennially under-rated Telemann, and played with tremendous verve by an experienced specialist in Baroque keyboard masterpieces.