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This is the world premiere recording of Tommaso Giordani’s Sonatas for Fortepiano, Viola da Gamba, and Violin, Op. 30, published in 1782. These stunning and virtuosic works are almost unknown today and yet represent some of the finest music composed for the viola da gamba. Dedicated to Viscountess Lavinia Spencer, herself a gamba player, the sonatas deserve wider recognition as wonderfully lyrical, inventive, and forward-looking music of the classical period.
An ensemble of leading early music specialists, the Luchkow-Stadlen-Jarvis Trio specializes in researching, performing, and recording 17th- and 18th-Century repertoire for violin, viola da gamba, and continuo. The music is performed by Paul Luchkow violin; Sam Stadlen viola da gamba; and Michael Jarvis fortepiano. Marquis Classics ASIN: B07WNKXNKS |
Review from Fanfare Magazine:
GIORDANI Sonatas. op. 30. KAMMELL Sonata in D. op. 1/1. Paul Lucknow (violin); Sam Stadlen (viola da gamba); Michael Jarvis (fortepiano) MARQUIS 81495 (58:09)
Five Stars *****
Fabulous, life-enhancing stuff; music of charm and sophistication in superbly polished performances.
Delving into this impeccable release, the listener is greeted with music and performances of freshness and joy. Admirers of the “London” Bach (J. C.), will feel very much at home here. Born in Naples in 1738, Tomasso Giordani, part of a highly talented musical family that toured Europe; they sojourned in London from 1753 to 1756 after an invitation to perform at Covent Garden before settling in Dublin in 1764; indeed, Tomasso co-produced the first opera seria performed in Ireland, Giuseppe Bonno’s L’eroe Cinese. Giordani returned to Covent Garden again before finally settling in Ireland, where he died in 1806 in Dublin). As a teacher, his most famous pupil was John Field.
The three sonatas that comprise op. 30 are scored for keyboard (“Piano-Forte or Harpsichord”) with obbligato flute/violin and viola da gamba/viola. The booklet notes include commendable detective work as to why the viola da gamba appears here (an attempt to ingratiate himself amongst the nobility). Whatever the case, the music is beautiful; after the chipper Allegro of op. 30/1 (G-Major) comes a charming Largo where the instrumental interchanges between violin and viola da gamba are so effective. The virtuosity of the gamba parts might have come about through Giordani’s exposure to the concerts in London curated by Abel (and J. C. Bach) and, in turn, Abel’s difficult own gamba sonatas. Important to note too, that the finale, a Menuetto affettuoso, is no mere trifle but a piece of some depth.
The performance is superb. Paul Luchkow plays on a Christopher Dungey copy of a 1667 Jacob Steiner (with a bow by Luchkow himself, a copy of a Dodd, c. 1750); Sam Stadlen plays on a six-string Jane Julier copy of an anonymous 1649 anonymous English viol with a Grabenstein bow, while Michael Jarvis plays on a Bakeman fortepiano after Walter, 1785. Pitch is A = 430 Hz, temperament is Thomas Young’s first temperament, 1799 (there are two available in case you were wondering why the “first”). The true chamber music nature of the performances coupled with a sense of nobility and gentilité are remarkable. Listening to Jarvis’ projection of a seemingly never-ending, heavenly melody in op.30/2’s slow movement (a Larghetto e sostenuto) confirms the special nature of this music, and of these performances. There is a depth to this slow movement that bleeds into the finale, lending the work as a whole a satisfying sense of cohesion.
The third Sonata of op. 30 is in B flat-Major again contains a slow movement of transportative powers, with the gamba part notably high (and superbly delivered here by Sam Stadlen). The care the performers lavish on dynamics is utterly remarkable, all caught in a supportive acoustic (the finest compliment I can give the recording is that one does not notice it; attention is purely on the revelations provided by the music with no distractions). Impossible not to smile at the jaunty finale of this last sonata, too.
There is precious little Tomasso Giordani in the catalogs, although those inspired by the present performances (which will be just about everybody with a pulse) might wish to explore a disc of the composer’s six Sonatas for violin and keyboard, op. 4, available on Brilliant Classics performed by Marco Ruggeri and Lina Uinskyte.
If there is not much Giordani available, there’s even less Kammell: precisely zero according to arkivmusic.com. Antonín Kammell, a violinist as well as a composer, was born in Bĕleč, in what we now call the Czech Republic. The two movements of Kamell’s Sonata op. 1/1 reveal a composer of sophistication, and a clear awareness of Affektenlehre in his expressive use of dissonances in the opening Andante. Perhaps most impressive aspect is the music’s unpredictability. Dedicated to Lady Lucy Mann, Kammell’s op. 1 actually comprises six sonatas; one does hope to make the remaining five’s acquaintance. In Paris, they were published as “Six trios pout deux violon e basse”; the dedication features particularly prominently on the London first printing. Although scored for two violins, the second part is low enough to be taken by viol, and the combination works superbly. Just as well: we’re hardly in a position to complain. Michael Jarvis makes more than we might reasonably expect from the modest fortepiano part and does so with panache and style, his little linking flourishes fulfilling their function to a tee. Delightful imitation between the two strings is but one feature of the invigorating final allegro; syncopations, too, fizz with brio. The innocent ear might even posit a chamber reduction of a proto-Mozartean opera overture.
Fabulous, life-enhancing stuff; music of charm and sophistication in superbly polished performances. And just when I thought I had my Wants List sorted …
Colin Clarke
Five Stars *****
Fabulous, life-enhancing stuff; music of charm and sophistication in superbly polished performances.
Delving into this impeccable release, the listener is greeted with music and performances of freshness and joy. Admirers of the “London” Bach (J. C.), will feel very much at home here. Born in Naples in 1738, Tomasso Giordani, part of a highly talented musical family that toured Europe; they sojourned in London from 1753 to 1756 after an invitation to perform at Covent Garden before settling in Dublin in 1764; indeed, Tomasso co-produced the first opera seria performed in Ireland, Giuseppe Bonno’s L’eroe Cinese. Giordani returned to Covent Garden again before finally settling in Ireland, where he died in 1806 in Dublin). As a teacher, his most famous pupil was John Field.
The three sonatas that comprise op. 30 are scored for keyboard (“Piano-Forte or Harpsichord”) with obbligato flute/violin and viola da gamba/viola. The booklet notes include commendable detective work as to why the viola da gamba appears here (an attempt to ingratiate himself amongst the nobility). Whatever the case, the music is beautiful; after the chipper Allegro of op. 30/1 (G-Major) comes a charming Largo where the instrumental interchanges between violin and viola da gamba are so effective. The virtuosity of the gamba parts might have come about through Giordani’s exposure to the concerts in London curated by Abel (and J. C. Bach) and, in turn, Abel’s difficult own gamba sonatas. Important to note too, that the finale, a Menuetto affettuoso, is no mere trifle but a piece of some depth.
The performance is superb. Paul Luchkow plays on a Christopher Dungey copy of a 1667 Jacob Steiner (with a bow by Luchkow himself, a copy of a Dodd, c. 1750); Sam Stadlen plays on a six-string Jane Julier copy of an anonymous 1649 anonymous English viol with a Grabenstein bow, while Michael Jarvis plays on a Bakeman fortepiano after Walter, 1785. Pitch is A = 430 Hz, temperament is Thomas Young’s first temperament, 1799 (there are two available in case you were wondering why the “first”). The true chamber music nature of the performances coupled with a sense of nobility and gentilité are remarkable. Listening to Jarvis’ projection of a seemingly never-ending, heavenly melody in op.30/2’s slow movement (a Larghetto e sostenuto) confirms the special nature of this music, and of these performances. There is a depth to this slow movement that bleeds into the finale, lending the work as a whole a satisfying sense of cohesion.
The third Sonata of op. 30 is in B flat-Major again contains a slow movement of transportative powers, with the gamba part notably high (and superbly delivered here by Sam Stadlen). The care the performers lavish on dynamics is utterly remarkable, all caught in a supportive acoustic (the finest compliment I can give the recording is that one does not notice it; attention is purely on the revelations provided by the music with no distractions). Impossible not to smile at the jaunty finale of this last sonata, too.
There is precious little Tomasso Giordani in the catalogs, although those inspired by the present performances (which will be just about everybody with a pulse) might wish to explore a disc of the composer’s six Sonatas for violin and keyboard, op. 4, available on Brilliant Classics performed by Marco Ruggeri and Lina Uinskyte.
If there is not much Giordani available, there’s even less Kammell: precisely zero according to arkivmusic.com. Antonín Kammell, a violinist as well as a composer, was born in Bĕleč, in what we now call the Czech Republic. The two movements of Kamell’s Sonata op. 1/1 reveal a composer of sophistication, and a clear awareness of Affektenlehre in his expressive use of dissonances in the opening Andante. Perhaps most impressive aspect is the music’s unpredictability. Dedicated to Lady Lucy Mann, Kammell’s op. 1 actually comprises six sonatas; one does hope to make the remaining five’s acquaintance. In Paris, they were published as “Six trios pout deux violon e basse”; the dedication features particularly prominently on the London first printing. Although scored for two violins, the second part is low enough to be taken by viol, and the combination works superbly. Just as well: we’re hardly in a position to complain. Michael Jarvis makes more than we might reasonably expect from the modest fortepiano part and does so with panache and style, his little linking flourishes fulfilling their function to a tee. Delightful imitation between the two strings is but one feature of the invigorating final allegro; syncopations, too, fizz with brio. The innocent ear might even posit a chamber reduction of a proto-Mozartean opera overture.
Fabulous, life-enhancing stuff; music of charm and sophistication in superbly polished performances. And just when I thought I had my Wants List sorted …
Colin Clarke