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    Reviewer: Robert 
    Maxham  
     
    Violinist Ingrid Matthews, 
    harpsichord player Byron Schenkman, and gambist Margriet Tindemans presented 
    a program of the music of Élisabeth Jacquet de La Guerre on Wildboar 9601, 
    which I recommended for special collections in  
    
    Fanfare 
    20:4. Their program overlapped that of La Rêveuse in the inclusion of the 
    Sonata I in D Minor and the Sonata III in F, but I considered the most 
    striking feature of those earlier performances to be “their uncompromisingly 
    aggressive sonorities.” Le Rêveuse has now recorded three of the sonatas, as 
    well as two others, both in A Minor, with two works for viola da gamba by 
    Jacques Morel and with a transcription for theorbo of a brief harpsichord 
    work by François Couperin.  
     
    In the Suonata secunda, 
    Stéphan Dudamel, playing a 2004 Amati-pattern violin by David Ayache, 
    produces a tone that, like those of violinists such as Simon Standage and 
    Fabio Biondi, synthesizes elements of what once passed as authentic period 
    sound with a more modern one. In the six movements of this work, ranging in 
    tempo and Affekt 
    from the solemn opening 
    Grave 
    to the tangy final 
    Presto, Dudamel and the 
    ensemble play with a lush relaxation (notable in the third movement, an 
    Aria, Affetuoso) 
    that’s only faintly reminiscent of the pinched timbres and edgy manner of 
    many earlier period performances. The composer designated these sonatas for 
    solo violin with viola 
    obligée and either 
    organ, specifically (Suonata 
    prima and 
    Suonata secunda) 
    or continuo, generally (it’s easy to understand why movements like the final 
    Presto would appeal to the group’s co-founder, gambist Florence Bolton). 
    Sonata I, also cast in six movements, opens with a movement with no tempo 
    indication that makes a stately impression similar to that of the opening 
    Grave of the Suonata 
    secunda. As did that 
    work, this one alternates fast and slow movements, with the fast ones, like 
    the second- or the fourth-movement 
    prestos 
    (with the ensemble providing crunchy underpinning to the 
    solo part), bubbling with ebullient energy and the slower ones marked by 
    noble expressivity. The sequential melodic lines, reminiscent of Corelli’s, 
    may be, as Catherine Cessac’s notes suggest, relieved by an admixture of 
    French elements, but those elements seem to spice an essentially Italian 
    entrée. Like its counterpart in the 
    Suonata secunda, 
    the smoothly flowing Aria makes a particularly genial impression in these 
    performances.  
     
    Bolton takes a turn as soloist in two pieces from Morel’s 
    1er Livre de Pièces de Viole 
    from Paris in 1710, the first a somewhat serious Prelude and the second a 
    dance-like but almost equally serious Rondeau, “Le Folet.” The 
    Suonata prima, 
    with only four movements, seems much slighter than its fellow work in A 
    Minor; the Sonata III, the first sonata in the collection in a major key, 
    returns to the multimovement format with five movements, the second, a 
    multisectional one (Presto and Adagio). The fourth-movement Aria, again a 
    striking piece in its own right, features a dialogue-like game of catch with 
    jaunty motives; the sonata concludes with an Adagio. The ensemble’s 
    co-founder and theorbo player, Benjamin Perrot, appears as soloist in Robert 
    de Visée’s transcription for theorbo of 
    Les Sylvains, 
    a sensitive—and sensitively explored—miniature by François Couperin, before 
    Jacquet de La Guerre’s Sonata IV (also in a major key) brings the program to 
    a joyous close. Since three of the sonata’s four movements boast more than 
    one section, the entire work seems like an alternation of brief, contrasting 
    sections.  
     
    While Matthews’ set offered all the sonatas from the 1707 collection, La 
    Rêveuse’s includes only four of them. But the differences lie deeper than 
    the simple choice of repertoire. Matthews and her ensemble played the works 
    with a greater liveliness overall, although also with somewhat pinched, 
    nasal timbres. So, Mirare’s collection affords a fresh look at a rarely 
    encountered composer: a somewhat different program in a somewhat different 
    manner. Recommended, like Matthews’, for special collections; those who have 
    already acquired Wildboar’s anthology should find enough that’s new in this 
    one to justify its addition to their libraries.    |