JJohann Gottlieb Naumann, a contemporary of Joseph Haydn, was associated with Dresden, worked in Sweden and travelled in Italy. In his Passione di Gesù Cristo he concentrates on smaller scale emotions and conflicts – albeit in the context of the (conventional) Passion story. It was written, probably, in 1767. That’s quite an undertaking for a twenty-six year old, although Naumann already had several other vocal and choral successes to his name.
Giovanni Paisiello, whose works Mozart thought enough of to study closely, was mostly forgotten in the nineteenth century, and this Passione de Gesù Cristo remained buried until 1998. This is its second recording; a Polish version on the Arts label, from that year, is also available. The oratorio's text is by the preeminent operatic librettist of the eighteenth century, Pietro Metastasio. One can easily understand why the work has never had a critical mass of general listeners, but for those interested in Mozart's world it's truly fascinating. This passion story features neither Jesus nor Pontius Pilate, nor any of the other usual personages. Instead it takes place after Christ's crucifixion, recounted by St. John, Joseph of Arimatea, and Mary Magdalene (in surely her biggest part until Jesus Christ Superstar came along) to St. Peter, with the accompaniment of a chorus of Christ's other followers; in the second part, all bewail the corruption of Jerusalem and look forward to Christ's resurrection.
Marin Marais published his last collection in 1725, eight years after the appearance of his Quatrième Livre de Pièces de Viole . He was no longer playing in the Chambre du Roi by that time and had moved to a house in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau where he cultivated plants and flowers in his garden. He continued, however, to give lessons to people who wanted to improve their viol playing. The Cinquième Livre de Pièces de Viole reflects this image of a peaceful life; today we regard it as the final testament of a musician who was looking back upon his past years as their undisputed master — and which he remains today.
Jean-François Dandrieu was born in August or September 1682 on rue Saint-Louis, Île de la Cité, Paris. He was the eldest of at least four children and showed such musical precocity that it is reported he played the harpsichord for Louis XIV and his court at the age of five. It can be assumed that his reputation led to great demand for his services as a performer, since he travelled outside Paris as a musician on several occasions. He was not the first musical Dandrieu: his uncle, Pierre, trained as a priest and organist in Angers. It is possible that it was he who organised Jean-François’s studies with the harpsichordist and composer Jean-Baptiste Moreau, a fellow Angevin and near contemporary.
Born in New York in 1946, Swiss-American lutenist Hopkinson Smith graduated from Harvard with Honors in Music in 1972. His instrumental studies took him to Europe where he worked with Emilio Pujol, a great pedagogue in the highest Catalan artistic tradition, and with the Swiss lutenist, Eugen Dombois, whose sense of organic unity between performer, instrument, and historical period has had lasting effects on him. He has been involved in numerous chamber music projects and was one of the founding members of the ensemble Hespèrion XX. Since the mid-80’s, he has focused almost exclusively on the solo repertoires for early plucked instrument, producing a series of prize-winning recordings for Astrée and Naïve, which feature Spanish music for vihuela and baroque guitar, French lute music of the Renaissance and baroque, English and Italian music of the 16th early 17th century and music from the German high baroque.
Ever the recycler, Handel cobbled together Oreste from parts of pre-existing scores for his 1734 season at Covent Garden. The work promptly disappeared from the repertory for the next 250 years – a fact that is both understandable, given that it's a less convincing result than his fully original operas, and a shame, since Handel's table scraps are still amongst the most entertaining morsels from the period. The present recording, by George Petrou, the Camerata Stuttgart, and a cast of mostly Greek singers, is its first complete performance on CD and an admirably realized production, characterized by polished, stylish singing and vivid orchestral playing. In style, sound, and dramatic pacing, Petrou's effort distinguishes itself as a fine entry in the Handelian opera catalog, and makes a compelling argument for the musical value of the piece itself.
Handel came to the city of Hamburg in the summer of 1703 and played as a violinist in the theatre at the Gänsemarkt, the local market place. On later occasions, he also played the harpsichord in the orchestra. His first opera – announced as a Singspiel although it has no spoken dialogue – was premiered on 8 January 1705, after being composed in the months directly preceding this. An Italian libretto was written by Giulio Pancieri in Venice in 1691 for Giuseppe Boniventi's opera L'Almira. The German translation used by Handel was made by Friedrich Christian Feustking. The recitatives of the opera are in German, while some of the arias are also in German, others in Italian, as was the custom at the opera house in Hamburg. Almira is the sole example among Handel's many operas with no role for a castrato.
This the work was first given in Vienna during Holy Week, 1729, the first of many collaborations between Caldara and Metastasio. Mention of the great librettist provides a prompt that my original review failed to stress the outstanding qualities of the text. Divided into two halves, the first part of the oratorio relates the story of the crucifixion as witnessed through the eyes of Mary Magdalene, John, and Joseph of Arimathea, who respond to the eager questioning of the remorseful Peter. The second part consists of philosophical commentary on the meaning of the crucifixion. Particularly in Part I, Metastasio draws on vivid imagery to convey the full horror of the event. Here, for example, is John describing the nailing to the cross: "… and some hardened, loutish men, sweating as they worked, bathed his face with their foul perspiration."