Magnificat and Musica Omnia are pleased to announce the release of Concerti Sacri, the second volume of the complete works of Chiara Margarita Cozzolani. The digital tracks are already available for download at music.cozzolani.com and the physical CDs will be released at the Boston Early Music Festival in June. This double CD set marks the completion of Magnificat’s project to record all of Cozzolani’s works that survive complete. Volume I, Salmi a Otto Voci, was released in June 2010. The cover artwork is an oil painting on gold leaf by Magnificat creative director Nika Korniyenko.
This recording is dedicated to the memory of Judith Nelson. While Judy’s voice is not heard on these recordings, her spirit – the honesty of her artisrty and the warmth and sincerity of her musicianship - is present throughout. It was Judy who introduced me to Donna Chiara and the performance of O quam bonus es with her in 1997 was the catalyst for all the love and energy we’ve shared with Cozzolani in the years that followed, for which we are all deeply grateful.
Sixteen of the tracks on Concerti Sacri have been available digitally for over a year, while nine tracks are available now for the first time. For those who have purchased the digital recording without the new tracks, or for those who would like to hear only the new tracks they are available independently here. As always those pre-ordering the CD will receive the digital tracks as well as the CD.
In two decades of exploring 17th Century music I have been continually fascinated by the way compositional techniques, modes of expression and ideas of taste and style migrated across Europe. These stylistic journeys most often began in Italy and travelling northward and refracted into spectrum of national styles of the High Baroque. Perhaps because I have spent time as a foreigner recently, encountering different traditions and cultures and learning new ways of communicating, my awareness of the role that the exchange of ideas plays in the development of art and society has been especially keen. The programs Magnificat will present in 2013-2014 all focus on the exchange of techniques and ideas, the generational transfer and elaboration of tradition and the translation of style from one culture to another.
Few events had a more profound influence on the music of the 17th century than the changing of the guard that took place at the Basilica of San Marco with the death of Giovanni Gabrieli in 1612 and the arrival of Claudio Monteverdi from Mantua the following year. Though they never held the post of maestro di cappella at San Marco, Giovanni and his uncle Andrea nevertheless dominated the musical life of the Serene Republic for three decades. Their brilliant polychoral style was appealing and effective and they pioneered the use of obbligato instruments in the service of what we would now call orchestration to give their concertos color and affect in a way that was imitated across Europe. One of Giovanni’s many students from north of the Alps in his final years was Heinrich Schütz, who studied in Venice for four years and returned to Dresden shortly after his teacher’s death, missing Monteverdi’s arrival by a matter of months. But more on that in the next program.
This year, for the first time in two decades, October passed without a set of Magnificat concerts. It has been very gratifying to hear from so many loyal Magnificat fans asking about the season and I am looking forward to coming home next month to see everyone. The program I chose for my homecoming has a special place for me personally and Magnificat as an ensemble and preparing the score and planning the concerts have been a wonderful and meaningful experience.
In many ways the program that Susan and I developed in 1993 to frame Charpentier’s Nativity Pastorale with arrangements of traditional noëls served as the model for many other Magnificat programs. The juxtaposition of sophisticated art music with contemporaneous folk music, the ideal of balance between vocal and instrumental music and each individual musician, all became hallmarks of Magnificat programs.
Along with all who were touched by her, I was deeply saddened to learn that soprano Judith Nelson had passed away earlier this year. Few musicians have had a bigger impact on me personally and Magnificat as an ensemble than Judy. She sang in over 40 Magnificat concerts in the 90s and appeared in one of the title roles (along with Paul Hillier) on Magnificat’s first recording, Cavalieri’s Rappresentatione di Anima e di Corpo. I also had the privilege of working with Judy in California Bach Society projects and in many other situations. But it was as a friend that I remember Judy the best and it is these memories that I treasure most.
The first thing that comes to mind when I remember Judy is how influential she was and how much everyone tried to sing like her but the second thing I think of is how, in fact, no one ever sounded like Judy except Judy. Of course, she sang exquisitely in every style and genre and yet it was always undeniably Judy. Her great gift to me (and to all of us) was in embodying the ideal of using your talent and ability to express who you are with integrity and conviction, which she did as well as anyone I have ever known.
In rehearsals Judy was always a model of professionalism but she also had a sharp wit and everyone who worked with her has plenty of memories of her playful sense of humor and well-timed rejoinders that always contributed to an atmosphere of camaraderie and common purpose. Judy had a uncanny ability to surprise through her vocal artistry and the depth of her understanding of the historical and musical context of the music she was performing, but also through her disarming candor.
While I will miss the joy of sharing a full season of terrific music from the early Baroque with my colleagues and with Magnificat's loyal audience next season, I am very pleased that I will be in California in December to lead Magnificat in a program that it very dear to me. In addition to my personal emotional connection with Charpentier's music, his character and the circumstances in which he wrote, this particular program represents a fascinating period of discovery for me personally.
The first music by Charpentier that I had the chance to perform was the Messe de Minuit(Midnight Mass) - a charming work that seamlessly weaves the folk melodies of noëls, already centuries old during the composer's life with a rigorous contrapuntal ideal. While the Nativity Pastorale does not incorporate noël melodies like the Midnight Mass, there are striking similarities in the poetic imagery of the noëls and their musical ...
While I will miss the joy of sharing a full season of terrific music from the early Baroque with my colleagues and with Magnificat’s loyal audience next season, I am very pleased that I will be in California in December to lead Magnificat in a program that it very dear to me. In addition to my personal emotional connection with Charpentier’s music, his character and the circumstances in which he wrote, this particular program represents a fascinating period of discovery for me personally.
The first music by Charpentier that I had the chance to perform was the Messe de Minuit(Midnight Mass) – a charming work that seamlessly weaves the folk melodies of noëls, already centuries old during the composer’s life with a rigorous contrapuntal ideal. While the Nativity Pastorale does not incorporate noël melodies like the Midnight Mass, there are striking similarities in the poetic imagery of the noëls and their musical character. In Magnificat’s first production of the Nativity Pastorale in 1993, we included several of Charpentier’s instrumental settings of noëls in addition to the Pastorale and I had the chance to learn about these remarkable melodies. I found the noëls especially intriguing because they provided a rare glimpse of the 17th century from a non-aristocratic perspective. Noëls were everyone’s music – nobility and peasants alike shared the joy of these infectious melodies and the often strikingly poignant poetry that these melodies set.
During his decade as master of music for the Jesuit church of St. Louis, Charpentier would have become very familiar with the magnificent altar of the church, which echoed the three level structure of the church’s façade. Five exquisite paintings adorned the altar – three by Simon Vouet (1590-1649,) an artist whose career in many ways followed a similar course to that which Charpentier’s would take a generation later.
I have often said that Marc-Antoine Charpentier never wrote a bad note and with every new work we perform I am amazed anew by the sheer perfection of his technique, the subtlety with which he depicts emotion and his extraordinarily varied harmonic palette. As we prepare for our performances of his delightful Messe de Minuit and the Dialogus inter Angelos et Pastores next month, it seems a good time to look back on Magnificat’s love affair with this most magnificent genius of the French Baroque, to whose music we have dedicated entire programs in twelve of our nineteen seasons.
Patricia Ranum has announced the identification of a theoretical work by Marc-Antoine Charpentier bound in an 18th century collection of manuscripts owned by the Lilly Library at Indiana University. Her convincing argument for the attribution of "Manuscript XLI" to Charpentier, as well as reproductions of the twelve page treatise, can be found at her informative and thoroughly engaging website.
Ranum's analysis suggests that the treatise was related to Charpentier's engagement in the education of Louis XIV’s nephew, Philippe II d’Orléans, Duke of Chartres in the early 1690s and was copied out by the composer himself in Autumn, 1698. Perhaps most the most significant aspect of Ranum's identification is that details of the manuscript suggest that the composer may have written as many as forty other theoretical works besides the few known that have survived in copies. Sadly it would appear that after his death in 1704, Charpentier's heirs did not preserve ...
I was pleased to learn that a variety of rose is named "Marc-Antoine Charpentier." The shrub rose has a dark yellow center flower with pale yellow to cream outer petals and a fine Tea fragrance. Its flowering is enhanced by pale green foliage.
The website Plantes et Jardins notes that the "La Rosa Generosa 'Marc-Antoine Charpentier' Masmacha stands out for its opulence as a shrub with branches that create a soft dome. Many buttons bloom in flower petals of slightly frizzy yellow fading to white vanilla cream. Their fragrance exudes a subtle fragrance of rose tea. Juvenile shoots are tinged with purple."
No doubt the rose was named after the French composer in honor of his delightful divertissement La Couronne de fleurs, performed by Magnificat in 2008.
A month has past since the Berkeley Festival, but the marvelous sounds of Vivaldi, Monteverdi, Cozzolani, Strozzi, and all the others remain fresh. The soaring melodies, bright colors and stinging dissonances in my head are accompanied by fond memories of the extraordinary atmosphere of the Festival, especially on the sunny Sunday afternoon when all the main stage ensembles joined together to celebrate the remarkable music of Seicento Venice.
The Civico Museo Bibliografico Musicale in Bologna is like mecca for scholars of 17th century music. It houses the collection of the renowned 18th century composer, teacher and scholar Giovanni Battista Martini, known as ‘Padre Martini’. Most of his massive collection of music prints (estimated by Dr. Burney at over 17,000 volumes) was donated to the Civico Museo on his death.
The Berkeley Festival & Exhibition Finale will be a celebration of the extraordinary repertoire of music composed by Venetian composers for the elaboration of the office of Vespers during the century following the publication of Monteverdi’s monumental Vespro della Beata Vergine in 1610. The concert will feature works by 12 composers performed by Archetti, ARTEK, AVE, Magnificat, the Marion Verbruggen Trio, Music’s Re-creation, and ¡Sacabuche!
Welcome to the 88th History Carnival. I decided to post a day ahead of schedule in case anyone was spending their Memorial Day or Bank Holiday weekend in front of a screen.
What a pleasure to look through all the excellent work being done in the history blogoshpere. The selections represented here are of course only a sliver of what’s out there, but I tried, with a couple of obvious exceptions, to stay in the vicinity of the 17th Century, Magnificat’s playground. I also wanted to send some love to those who are doing good work in music history and getting it out into cyberspace.
I tried out a different layout that would allow me to have thumbnails for each of these excellent articles. Click on the titles below and enjoy!
All the music that I mention in the blurbs is collected on a Playlist here.
In a post at Mercurius Politicus, Nick Poyntz contemplates the curious children’s rhyme on ‘permanent loop’ at his house at the moment:
The pelican’s beak holds more than its belly can,
Nothing has a beak that’s the size of the pelican’s.
and considered some historical interpretations and extrapolations and their visual representation in various media.
In a similarly ornithological vein, Nick followed up with Brother Fountain and Brother Heron, pondering how this is a reference to Cromwell and Sir Henry Vane.
Atrium Musicologicum posted Giuliana Gialdroni’s overview of the Renaissance Italian master, Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina’s second publication: his first set of madrigals for four voices. The music of Palestrina enjoys a unique historical distinction in Western music as the oldest continuously performed repertoire. Unlike all music before and most since, Palestrina never left the ‘playlist,’ already recognized as ‘classical’, or canonical by the 17th Century. It was the first music to be performed with anything like the contemporary notion of ‘early music’ and provided the point of reference for compositions designated by composers as in the ‘stile antico’ throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, with echoes in the Romantic era.
There are few recordings of Palestrina’s madrigals, as his reputation was and is primarily grounded in his motets and Masses. Rinaldo Alessandrini’s Concerto Italiano has a beautiful recording that I couldn’t find readily available online. Here’s a lovely youtube of the master’s exquisite eight voice Stabat mater performed (I think) by the Tallis Scholars.
As usual there were several visually compelling posts from ‘peacay’ at BibliOdyssey. I was particularly drawn to his commentary on The Sybelline Prophecies, associated for those of who focus on ‘early music,’ with the obscure and sublime Prophetiæ Sybillarum of Orlando di Lasso (or Roland de Lassus if you prefer.) There’s a lovely series of youtube videos mixing the Ensemble Daedalus recording with images from Cranach – here’s a link to Sybilla Lybica.
Peacay posts a striking gallery of images from “the parchment manuscript, ‘Sibylla Prophetae et de Cristo Salvatore vaticinantes’, was produced in Tours in the 1490s. The current evidence suggests that Jean Poyer (or Poyet) was responsible for the elegant series of twenty five miniatures that feature generous shell gold illumination. In addition to the Sibyl framework, the manuscript draws iconographic inspiration from the Hours of Louis de Laval (1475) and devotional influence from the Medieval classic, ‘Speculum Humanæ Salvationis’.”
Also at BibliOdyssey, see Festa della Porchetta.
Last Fall, Mark Samples and Zack Wallmark set themselves a challenge: digest Richard Taruskin’s Oxford History of Western Music over the course of an academic year – and to comment on it throughout the experience. As they point out in their ‘mission statement:’ Literature lovers have Proust’s 7-volume In Search of Lost Time; thespians have the 8-hour Faust by Goethe (and Japanese thespians have even longer Noh plays); opera fans love to get lost in “The Ring” cycle; and for humble musicologists, we have OHWM…the stunning life’s work of one of the greatest minds in the discipline, the product of over ten year’s labor.”
Well, they’ve made it to the Enlightenment and on to the 19th Century. Often Taruskin Challenge will juxtapose historical musics as Zach does in the linked article: the depiction of Chaos in Haydn’s Creation and Wayne Shorter’s “Chaos,” from his album The All Seeing Eye. Here are the two links embedded in their post.
Lucy Inglis at the always brilliant Georgian London examined the fascinating ‘Cries’ of the street traders of London. As she notes, each of the merchants “had their distinctive cries, to which they gave their own voice and often, a special twist.” I found this one especially interesting:
Rare ripe strawberries and
Hautboys pence a pottle.
Full to the bottom, hautboys.
Lucy notes that ‘hautboy’ referred to ‘a small, wild strawberry’. I’m curious about this use of the French word for oboe, an instrument introduced to England, along with French opera, in the last quarter of the 17th century. It continued to be called “hautbois’ and various Franglicizations throughout the 18th century.
My first encounter with the ‘Cries’ was refracted through Luciano Berio’s idiosyncratic setting.
Yannis Deliyannis at Chronicon Mirabilium posted about the nautical display staged on the Arno in Florence in 1608 as part of the three-week long celebration of the marriage of Cosimo II de Medici and Maria Magdalena of Austria.
Yannis surveys several depictions that survive including “a booklet by Camillo Rinuccini entitled Descrizione delle feste fatte nelle reali nozze de Serenissimi Principi di Toscana D. Cosimo de Medici e Maria Maddalena Arciduchessa d’Austria (Florence, 1608.)”
Much of the music performed at the wedding festivities was composed by the virtuoso singer Giulio Caccini. Here’s an exceptional recording of Caccini’s Amor, io parto by Monteserrat Figueras and Hopkinson Smith.