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Reviewer: Bertil
van Boer By 1750, about the time all of these sonatas were written, the viola da gamba was rapidly becoming a has-been instrument. No longer powerful enough to fill out the continuo (which itself was beginning to see the seeds of its demise on the horizon), and not fashionable as a solo instrument, fewer and fewer solo performers were appearing. To be sure, gambists such as Carl Friedrich Abel still were able to practice their instrument in performance, but the repertory was turning towards the string family, such as the cello, which was able to provide the power and sonority to compete with a new generation of expressive keyboard instruments, notably the fortepiano. This did not, however, prevent the gamba from being the inspiration for new works, particularly in those areas such as northern Germany, where it still was performed regularly. The material on this disc comes from the fertile compositional group surrounding the Berlin court of Frederick the Great. The king, a flute player and composer of some talent, favored the more intimate sounds of chamber music for his soirées, and in 1741, the year he instituted concerts by the group at Sans Souci, he hired Ludwig Christian Hesse (1716–1772). Hesse had been trained at the Hessian court in Darmstadt, probably under luminaries such as Graupner, and in France, where both Marin Marais and Forqueray were well-known gambists. Thus his musical training had been mostly in the Baroque style, but when he arrived in Berlin, he found that the newly emerging Classical galant or Empfindsamkeit styles were all the rage. He quickly adapted, but although he continued to compose, his official efforts were largely devoted to making transcriptions for his instrument from works by his colleagues. The majority of works on this disc fall into the transcription category. These include the three C. P. E. Bach transcriptions of a trio sonata, violin sonata, and symphony. The trio sonata is the famous dialogue between sanguinity and melancholy, in which the two opposing humors are outlined in rapid shifts of tempo and mood. Considering that the composer himself originally “envisioned” it as being vocal music in instrumental guise, the third generation transcription might seem far down the original path. The gamba and fortepiano, however, are able to negotiate the often tortuous tempo changes with ease and a deep sense of emotional content. The austere final movement, devoid of the changeable moods, seems to fit the tone of the gamba. The A-Minor Symphony has a much thicker texture, for which the ability of the gamba to do chords seems to fit well. The mincing, slightly sinister Andantino is further sensitized by the full tone of the gamba, something that the original version with a pair of violins makes lighter. The violin sonata transcription too seems quite adaptable to the gamba, though the keyboard part contains most of the interest. Of the two remaining works, only the Graun seems tailor-made for the gamba, with its cheerful main theme that begins with some impressive keyboard work prior to the gamba’s entrance. It is like a miniature concerto, with lots of impressive double stops and brilliant virtuosity that takes the instrument from top to bottom of its expansive register. It is perhaps the most modern of the works, indicating Graun’s knowledge of the instrument and its capabilities. The sole work attributed to Hesse, on the other hand, is less polished and more focused upon virtuoso display. The keyboard part is often more primitive, but it serves as a foil for the expansive gamba part. The second movement has a French feel to it, with stately dotted rhythms and sudden changes in tempo and mood (marked pocco [sic]). The final movement is genteel, almost meant for the solo fortepiano, with the gamba seeming a virtual afterthought. It does engage in some nicely sonorous dialogue, however. These works or arrangements are all nicely crafted, and much of the care can be ascribed to gambist Lucile Boulanger, who shows a facility on the instrument that makes light of the gnarliest of passages. Her tone is warm and full, and the fortepiano accompaniment, one on a replica Silbermann, complements her playing nicely. The tempos are flexible enough to accommodate the often conflicting motivic and rhythmic structures. In short, this is a nice disc, with no real pretense to musical innovation but rather demonstrating a facet of music-making in the Berlin School that one ordinarily might not hear. | |
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