A more radiant and gratifyingly robust collection of baroque instrumental works would be hard to imagine. Dedicated to Biber’s patron, Maximilian Gandolph, in the 1676 publication, these 12 sonatas (which broadly translate as ‘sonatas suitable for altar or court’) juxtapose pieces for a rich five- or six-part string palette – pursuing an exhilarating, intensely-wrought, sophisticated and unpredictable musical rhetoric – with quasi-concerted and swaggering trumpets. The two are not mutually exclusive since Biber wrote Sonata VI for a solo trumpet in G minor, a work which stretches the capability of the ‘natural’ instrument and coaxes it into the poignant and refined world of early Italian canzonas.
Biber’s sole extant opera, Arminio, was composed c1692 and first performed in Salzburg. Probably intended as a chamber work, its intimate settings are matched by music of subtle delights, with lovelorn laments, comic scenes and splashes of colour. Barbara Schlick leads a fine team of singers and the period-instrument Salzburger Hofmusik provides spirited support. A real Baroque treat.–Graham Lock
The works for viola da gamba of Elizabethan soldier and composer Tobias Hume are wonderfully eccentric, highly entertaining, and often deeply moving, but not often recorded, so new recordings are always welcome. This 2009 Hyperion disc by German gambist Susanne Heinrich may not be the most poetic, soulful Hume recording ever made – that honor would go to the incomparable Jordi Savall – but it is nevertheless a fine addition to the composer's catalog. With her warm but penetrating tone, polished but passionate technique, and acute sensitivity, Heinrich is a first-class player and interpreter, and her performances are wholly sympathetic to the music. Her account of the bleak "I am Melancholy" is as effective as that of the droll "Tickell, tickell," and her reading of the cheerful "Life" is as moving as that of the grim "Deth." Recorded in transparent and present digital sound, this disc deserves to be heard by all admirers of music for viola da gamba.
In the '80s there were those listeners who thought that Heinrich Schiff might redeem cello performance practice from fatal beauty and lethal elegance. Aside from the burly and brawny Rostropovich, more and more cellists were advocating a performance style whose ideals were perfect intonation and graceful phrasing. In some repertoire, say, Fauré, these are perfectly legitimate goals. In other repertoire, Beethoven and Brahms, say, it is a terrible mistake. In Bach's Cello Suites, as the fay and fragile Yo-Yo Ma recordings make clear, it was a terminal mistake. Not so in Schiff's magnificently muscular 1984 recordings of the suites: Schiff's rhythms, his tempos, his tone, his intonation, and especially his interpretations were anything but fay or fragile. In Schiff's performance, Bach's Cello Suites are not the neurasthenic music of a composer supine with dread and despair in the dark midnight of the soul, but the forceful music of a mature composer in full control of himself and his music.
Johann Gottlieb Graun and his slightly younger brother Carl Heinrich Graun both worked in the Berlin-based court of Frederick the Great, whose musical cabinet also included Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach. Superficially, the music of the Grauns can seem similar enough that in terms of attribution, their works are often confused, particularly when "Graun" is the only name provided on a given manuscript. Curiously, at least concerning the track listing, Accent does not try to identify which of the four concerti on their Graun: Concerti belong to Johann Gottlieb and which to Carl Heinrich. When one gets a little deeper into the notes, the truth is known – the first concerto, in A major for viola da gamba is by Johann Gottlieb, and the other three are the work of Carl Heinrich.
Like many of his German and Austrian contemporaries, Bohemian-born composer Heinrich von Biber was strongly influenced by the Italian school of violin composition that included Biagio Marini (1587-1665) and Marco Uccellini (1603-1680). A noted virtuoso himself, Biber and his teacher Johann Heinrich Schmelzer (1621-1680) were two of the most important figures of the late seventeenth-century Viennese violin style. Biber's keen understanding of the technical and expressive possibilities of the instrument is evident in his innovative use of pizzicato (plucking of the string with the finger), double and triple stops (more than one note played at once creating "chords"), col legno (stick of the bow on the string), sul ponticello (played close to the bridge), and, especially, scordatura (intentional "mistuning" of the strings). Scordatura allowed the performer to play chords in particular keys more easily, extended the range of notes, and provided more open strings in order to negotiate the difficulty of polyphonic writing for a single instrument. Biber's imaginative and original use of these techniques or special effects brought violin virtuosity to an entirely new level of musical expression in the Baroque period. It can be argued that J. S. Bach's masterful Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, written in 1720, are direct descendants of Biber's grounding breaking Mystery or Rosary Sonatas, composed nearly a quarter of a century earlier.
This commemoration of the 300th anniversary of the death of Biber is subtitled ‘In the midst of life we are in death’ and divided into ‘Vita’ and ‘Mors’. The ‘Life’ section consists of the Mass interspersed with all but two of the pieces by other composers listed above; ‘Death’ wraps the Praeludium and Lassus’s Media vita… round the Requiem.
Biber's 15 Mystery Sonatas with their additional Passacaglia for unaccompanied violin were written in about 1678 and dedicated to his employer, the Archbishop of Salzburg. Each Sonata is inspired by a section of the Rosary devotion of the Catholic Church which offered a system of meditation on 15 Mysteries from the lives of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. The music isn't, strictly speaking, programmatic, though often vividly illustrative of events which took place in the life of Christ.