The gift of storytelling may be one of life's most powerful—and envied—skills. A story well told can make us laugh, weep, swell with pride, or rise with indignation. A story poorly told can be not just boring or uncomfortable, but positively painful to experience. Humans seem to be fundamentally hard-wired for stories—they’re how we record both the monumental events of life and the small, everyday moments.
The gift of storytelling may be one of life's most powerful—and envied—skills. A story well told can make us laugh, weep, swell with pride, or rise with indignation. A story poorly told can be not just boring or uncomfortable, but positively painful to experience. Humans seem to be fundamentally hard-wired for stories—they’re how we record both the monumental events of life and the small, everyday moments.
The source for the songs on this release is a manuscript in the library of Christ Church College, Oxford. Its title page bears the following: “Musica del Signor Angelo Micheli/ Uno de Musici della Capella / de Reyna di Swecia / Uppsaliae Martii 21 / 1653 / a 2 et 3 voce.” The mystery of how a collection of Italian secular songs of the mid 16th century was compiled in Sweden and ended up in England is, fortunately, relatively easy to solve. In 1651, Queen Christiana requested that the bass Alessandro Cecconi put together a company of Italian musicians to reside at the Swedish court.
Marc-Antoine Charpentier was neglected for centuries after his death, but by the late 20th century increased frequency of performances and recordings revealed him as one of the geniuses of the Baroque. He had a distinctive, individual voice and a gift for subtle emotional expression capable of evoking the most profound grief, as well as a loopy humor rarely associated with music of his era.