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Fanfare Magazine: 39:3 (01-02/2016) 
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CPO 7778342



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Reviewer: Barry Brenesal

 

This is a collection of Neapolitan works mostly composed around the midpoint of the 17th century, though Valente’s popular Gagliarda Napolitana (which turns up in identical first position on Jordi Sávall’s Ostinato disc, Alia Vox 9820) dates back as far as 1576. The program’s six short instrumental selections (roughly 20 minutes, total) are anchored by Provenzale’s three chamber cantatas (approximately 12 to 14 minutes a piece) for solo voice.

One curiosity is that two of the cantatas are featured as well on Antonio Florio’s release Il canto della sirena: cantate Napoletane dell’ eta Barocca (Glossa 922603). Setting aside comparisons for the moment, both works have problematic attributions. The liner notes to this album are surprisingly diffident about establishing the authorship of the Lamento di marinetta Moglie di Massaniello: “It is perhaps possible to attribute a curious anonymous composition entitled Lamento … to Provenzale,” and, we might add, perhaps not. Nor do those notes explain why they believe the composer fled Naples for Rome when Massaniello’s revolt took place in 1647: “It is possible that Provenzale was forced to flee….” There is no record of Provenzale’s whereabouts before 1658, so no good reason to assume he was even in Naples first; and certainly no reason the composer would set such a violently anti-Spanish, anti-Hapsburg diatribe even anonymously in favor of a one-month revolutionary wonder when the composer was attempting to build a career in the central and southern Italian States. (The Florio disc credits it to the ever-popular Anonymous.)

Squarciato appena havea is also attributed to Provenzale, though as only one manuscript of it exists in an unknown hand, the allocation remains tentative. It is a sardonic contrafactum of Luigi Rossi’s once exceedingly popular Lamento della Regina di Svezia. The singer is meant to be Maria Eleonora, wife of Sweden’s King Gustavus Adolphus, who according to contemporary report went nearly mad with grief following his death on the battlefield at Lützen. Contrary to the liner notes, Maria Eleonora’s death isn’t described at the end of each stanza, nor is the report of his death followed each time by a different popular, jovial tune. Instead, the popular tunes are inserted into a consistently forward moving narrative, given voice by the Queen, an anonymous spectator, or one of the viewing characters. So, for example, at one point Maria Eleonora gives way to hysteria-derived joy, and speaks of going wherever she will in the city at all hours of night and day. This leads the composer to suddenly break off the dramatic recitative and interpolate Cenci’s La Mantovana, whose original words speak of fleeing from this sky, harsh and dour (“Fuggi, fuggi, fuggi da questo cielo”). The pattern of humor, such as it is, is a matter of hearing very inappropriate, folk-like music at key points in a tragic account.

The best performances of the program are in the six light-hearted selections Echo du Danube choose as interludes-in-effect, influenced strongly by the twin 16th-century Italian musical strands of monophonic song, and court balletti and balli. The ensemble’s mix of harp, plucked accompaniment, bowed instruments, and percussion is especially effective in delineating the light but graceful charm of Strozzi’s four works.

Not quite as much can be said for the cantata performances. Certainly Hannah Morrison possesses agility, a good range, and the important ability here to take stage in these dramatic works. Her main failing is an unflowing, unidiomatic treatment of Italian. A comparison with Pino de Vittorio in Florio’s recording of the Lamento di marinetta Moglie di Massaniello is telling. Morrison is clearly aware of what she’s singing in general, and makes some good theatrical points, but Vittorio throughout gives the impression of bringing to immediate life the language in these chamber cantatas, an important feature for works that often consist of heightened recitative. As much can be said for a live performance currently on YouTube, with Romina Basso displaying the same attention to linguistic rhythms and phrasing that Vittorio provides, and Morrison misses.

The sound is very good and well balanced. The contents page, on the other hand, lists all nine works as having lengths of 12:19, for a total time of 00:00.

If Echo du Danube had supplied cantatas by Provenzale and his contemporaries that were less known, or at any rate in two of three instances not recorded on a single disc by major competition, I would recommend this disc. As it is, I find that Florio’s singers surpass this album handily.


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