Florio

For more than two centuries Naples was a province of Spain, and after this ended in 1707 the remarkable cross-fertilisation of culture between them did not stop. Much of the Italian music featured here has been edited from sources in Spanish collections. The vast bulk of it is devoted to Leonardo Vinci (one of the most celebrated Italian opera composers of the 1720s). Only one short piece tacked onto the end is actually Spanish: a colourful fandango from José de Nebra's zarzuela Vendado es amor,no es ciego (1744) in which three singers mockingly compare the squabbling goddesses of classical antiquity to bickering mothers-in-law.

Even in these circumspect times‚ the ambitious ‘Tesori di Napoli’ series continues unearthing works whose merit is one thing‚ but whose significance for future generations is a fascinating sideshow. Niccolò Jommelli‚ if not exactly a household name‚ was an established Neopolitan mid18th century ‘master’ whose reputation was founded on operatic successes in several major centres – enough to secure him a fine eulogy from Dr Burney in 1770. For the uninitiated (and knowing only the odd cantata and vespers settings‚ I count myself such)‚ the fluid tonal progression of the recitatives in Jommelli’s comic ‘intermezzo’‚ Don Trastullo‚ has da PonteMozart resonating with illuminating prescience.

Gaetano Latilla (1711-88) is pretty much a footnote, but after its premiere in 1738, this opera, La finta cameriera, was performed at one time or another throughout Europe for the next 20 years. It consists of 44 arias and acres of recitative (indeed, the Parisians objected to all the chatter in 1752). I normally hate these 18th century “intermezzo” operas about people disguised as either the lower classes or their own brothers, particularly because in between the acres of recitative there usually are simple-to-sing, “flavorful” arias. This work, however, is different: many of the arias are very showy and difficult, and require true virtuoso singing.

In Baroque times in Naples, Christmas was a time of sumptuous festivities and theatrical performances. These pieces for the Nativity by Cristofaro Caresana are perfect illustrations of the vivacity and liveliness of Neapolitan music at that time.

The priest Giuseppe Cavallo was Maestro di Canto of the Conservatorio de Santa Maria de Loreto from 1672 until his death in 1684. Otherwise, virtually nothing is known about the composer, and it is only due to the musical archive of the Oratorio di Napoli, a treasure trove of rare scores, that a handful of Cavallo's works survive, including Il Giudizio Universale. This sacred oratorio presents Christ and Saint Michael, a pair of angels, two mortals, and four souls–two damned, two blessed–and begins with Christ commanding the angels to bring on the Last Judgment. What follows is a finely crafted musical drama, except for the confusion caused when the otherwise immaculately presented album fails to reveal which of the seven singers (two sopranos, three tenors, and one bass) is singing which parts.

A new Antonio Florio-directed recording from Glossa, once more focusing on a famous Italian singer from the Baroque era, again features the gorgeous vocal qualities of the modern-day Italian interpreter of such music, Roberta Invernizzi. This new and glorious succession of virtuoso arias captivated audiences in Roman theatres through the vocal chords of one eminent singer from 1718 onwards…

With the 10 arias on Tormento d'amore, Ian Bostridge demonstrates the important place that the tenor voice held in Italian opera from the mid-17th to the mid-18th century - often thought of as the era of the castrato. At this time, there were two main centres of opera in Italy: Venice, where such composers as Cavalli, Vivaldi, Cesti, Stradella, Sartorio and Legrenzi were active, and Naples, home to Provenzale, Caresana, Vinci and Fago. In addition to arias - two of them in world premiere recordings - the album offers five instrumental sinfonie and a traditional Neapolitan song, 'Lu cardillo', or 'The Goldfinch', a songbird closely associated with Naples. Bostridge is partnered by conductor Antonio Florio and his ensemble Cappella Neapolitana.

La Partenope is a rich and colourful production, superbly performed here by I Turchini Orchestra and conductor Antonio Florio, world-renowned specialists of Baroque repertoire. In this version comic intermezzi have been added, as was customary in the eighteenth century.

The Spanish label Glossa seems to be releasing a fair amount of sacred music, especially from the Neapolitan realms of the 17th and 18th centuries, such as the rerelease of the Alessandro Scarlatti Lamentations reviewed elsewhere, though to be fair they are also a conduit, as in this recording, for other European firms as well. This selection of late 17th-century Lessons from Holy Week, along with a few instrumental works for filler, fits nicely within Glossa’s repertoire, which includes Johann Sebastian Bach and Pierre Bouteiller, in addition to a rather quirky offering titled Monteverdi Meets Jazz .

WORLD PREMIERE in modern times of an unknown comic opera which was recently rediscovered along with other three other Leo operas at the Abbey of Montecassino. L Alidoro (Golden Wings) is a lost-and-found story which explores the themes of love and jealousy from different perspectives in particular age and social status interweaving comedy with more serious reflections. Director Arturo Cirillo explains how in this opera, nothing is happening except a subtle and gorgeous relational game among the seven protagonists.