A to Z: A Baroque Exploration
The phrase “baroque music” generally brings up associations with Italian or German composers, and indeed, musicians from those countries initiated developments that would shape western music profoundly. With this program, however, we explore the far-reaching resonance of their innovations, as Telemann and Vivaldi are joined by a Czech bass player, an officer in the Dutch army, and a 21st-century Iranian who lives in Vancouver!
Not only is Henricus Albicastro (1660-1730) not a house-hold name, it is not the composer’s real name at all. It is the pseudonym that was used for the musical publications of Johann Heinrich von Weissenburg, a German who spent most of his adult life in the Spanish Netherlands. (He has been frequently claimed by the Swiss, due to a doubtful reference in a 1732 publication, Johann Walther’s Musicalisches Lexicon; today, scholars believe him to have been born in central Bavaria.) Weissenburg arrived in the Netherlands in 1686, and after a brief employment as a musician by the University of Leiden, spent a career in the Dutch army. He fought in the War of the Spanish Succession (1701-1713) and remained enlisted after the “Peace of Utrecht” (1713); thus he is considered an “amateur” composer, but it is evident that as a musician, both his training and his talent were first-rate. Under the name “Albicastro,” he published books of violin sonatas, trio sonatas, and string concertos, all of which bear the distinct influence of the Roman master Arcangelo Corelli. The Concerto V is notable for an extended double fugue at the center of the work (following a spirited fanfare and a soberly lilting Grave), in which the first entrance is imitated by the third, and the second by the fourth. Albicastro’s writing throughout is both whimsical and heady.
Jan Dismas Zelenka (1679-1745) was a Czech composer who was born near Prague and spent most of his career in Dresden. He played the violone—the largest member of the viol family of string instruments, analogous to the violin family’s double-bass—and joined the Dresden Royal Orchestra in 1710. Over the years, Zelenka assumed many of the duties of the ailing Kappellmeister (Johann David Heinichen), but was turned down when he formally applied for the post. However, Zelenka was retained as a lower-ranking church composer, and produced a vast out-put of sacred music (23 masses!). He was known for the difficulty of his works, both vocal and instrumental; his writing for bass instruments is far more virtuosic that that of most baroque composers, and the demands he makes of the oboe have been described by the great modern oboist Heinz Holliger as “utopian.” The trio sonata heard here is indicated for either violin and oboe, or two violins. It is a large-scale, energetic work, vividly demonstrating Zelenka’s rhythmic, extravagant, and sometimes quirky style.
Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) was widely renowned during his lifetime, and has been listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the most prolific composer of all time—current catalogues count more than 3000 compositions (many of which were destroyed during World War II or are otherwise lost). Telemann might be described as a baroque “renaissance man:” he studied law, languages and science at the University of Leipzig, while mastering numerous musical instruments and traveling extensively. Like his contemporary J.S. Bach, Telemann was masterful in his ability to absorb different musical styles in a cohesive language. Telemann wrote a great number of high-spirited suites for orchestra, many with colorful titles (like the Don Quixote suite, the Overture Burlesque, and La Putain). His Overture des Nations anciens et modernes seems fitting for tonight’s cosmopolitan program: there is a movement for the “Old Germans,” one for the “Modern Germans,” movements for the “Old” and “Modern” Swedes, and Danes as well. Today it seems perhaps better not to read too much into these titles, rife as they are with possibilities for age-ist and nationalist stereotypes! However, the music is so good-humored (and well-written) that surely no offense could be taken. The Overture’s fast middle section introduces a theme fairly described as comical, perhaps alerting us not to take what follows too seriously. A string of short, binary-form dances movements ensues, and the suite concludes with a piece for the “Old Ladies” (Les Vieilles femmes). Here, chromatic two-note slurs lend a sense of having seen it all, as much as they may suggest creaky bones.
“Looking East,” by Amir Koushkani, was written about two years ago, commissioned by the Pacific Baroque Orchestra in Vancouver. The composer began his musical training in Iran, and is widely acclaimed as a master of the tar and setar. Koushkani has focused much of his musical study on radif, a complex Persian classical idiom, and feels that there are remarkable aesthetic similarities between Persian music and baroque western music. The seven short movements correspond to the classical Persian concept of seven steps taken towards the beloved. SBO’s performance of this work represents, obviously, a departure form our norm; but one which we hope will reflect a new sparkle back onto the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century European repertoire. Amir Koushkani would like to thank Marc Destrube and the Pacific Baroque Orchestra for bringing their part in the creation of this piece, and the musicians of SBO add our thanks to his.
Domenico Scarlatti (1685-1757) was the son of another famous composer, Alessandro, who was best-known for his vocal works. Domenico experimented in his early career with various genres, but his genius blossomed with his later focus on keyboard music—he produced an astonishing set of over 500 single-movement sonatas for the harpsichord. These were the product of a long association with the princess Maria Barbara of Portugal. Scarlatti came under her patronage as a young man in Rome, and followed her to Madrid when she ascended to the throne there. Musical life at the Spanish court was thriving and extravagant (due in part to the presence of the famous castrato Farinelli), and Scarlatti enjoyed abundant artistic freedom with which to experiment in depth with the binary-form keyboard sonata which would become his extraordinary contribution to the canon of western music. Scarlatti was interested in the traditional music of the Iberian peninsula, and its spirit permeates much of his writing. These sonatas are concise, well-developed miniatures which Scarlatti himself described as “an ingenious jesting with art.”
The Venetian Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741) is one of the best-loved composers of any era, and for many people his music, with its rhythmic boldness, melodic sensuality and irrepressible energy, epitomizes the spirit of the High Baroque. Vivaldi was the son of a violinist, and an accomplished player himself (as well as an ordained priest). He spent most of his career teaching in one of the state-sponsored oespedali of Venice, La Pieta. This was an orphanage and school for girls in which students were cultivated as musicians; they reached astonishing heights of virtuosity on every conceivable instrument, and were renowned throughout Europe. It can be assumed that most of Vivaldi’s works had their first performances here. The D minor concerto for two violins and cello begins with the three soloists alone, establishing their prominence before moving into a second movement which is much more orchestral in texture. A beautiful 12/8 aria for the first violin follows, giving was to an exuberant last movement in which all the fire and joy for which Vivaldi is famous are delivered in spades.