Baroque Lovers' Afternoon
Saturday August 24 at 3:00 pm
Central United Methodist Church | Free admission
Program Notes
Heinrich Schütz (1585-1672), the most acclaimed German composer of the 17th century, worked mainly at the court in Dresden, where musical life languished during the Thirty Years’ War. Fortunately, he was given chances to travel, and he spent considerable time in both Italy and Denmark, where conditions were much more pacific. His mature music shows an ability to absorb the latest style of his mentor, Giovanni Gabrieli, with whom Schütz studied between 1609 and 1612. Gabrieli cultivated the antiphonal sound of split choirs or ensembles, for which he used the term “sacred symphonies.” Schütz also wrote several settings of the German Magnificat text for two four-part choirs, as well as collections of Italian madrigals. It is through the latter genre that we experience Schütz this afternoon.
The first madrigal, “O dolcezze,” projects the “sweetnesses” referred to in the text through lush, sustained harmonies in the manner of the Renaissance sacred style. Schütz then pivots to more animated material as the text meditates over whether it is better to love and lose rather than never know love at all. Schütz never fully relinquishes the dolorous, reverential sound. In the second madrigal, the key word is “fuggi” (to flee). He sets that initial word as a series of fleeing and chasing imitations across all voices. The gestures again change character in the middle material, but the reappearance of the word “fuggire” toward the close brings back the opening sounds to create a satisfying, rounded design.
In the early 18th century, Germany – though it was not a unified nation at the time – produced dozens of superlative composers, many of whom are now almost unknown, overshadowed by the towering figures of Telemann, Handel, and Bach. Among Bach and Handel’s direct contemporaries was Johann Friedrich Fasch (1688-1758). Born near Weimar, Fasch moved into the home of a relative when his father died in 1700, and it was there that he seems to have received his first musical training. He soon enrolled at St. Thomas’s School in pre-Bach Leipzig, though he was largely self-taught as an instrumentalist. Fasch eventually produced his own suites, which were played by Telemann’s Collegium. In 1708, while studying law at Leipzig University, Fasch actually formed the “second ordinary Collegium musicum.”
Fasch’s Quartet in B-flat Major, scored for oboe, recorder, violin, and continuo, begins with an idyllic Largo before proceeding to a contrapuntal Allegro. The latter makes excellent use of the contrasting timbres between winds and strings. A curiously punctuated Grave section changes the mood dramatically, and Fasch pointedly invites introspective musings in the hypnotic tick-tock effect. All this reverie is swept away by the vigorous finale, marked by passages of close counterpoint between the three solo players.
Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1743) is one composer amongst Baroque music lovers that hardly needs an introduction, so we will keep this one (fairly) brief. The Italian Baroque composer – granted “pop” status today through the ubiquity of his Four Seasons concerto in film scores and ad campaigns – was born in Venice in March 1678. He was the second-oldest of ten children of Giovanni Battista, a young barber-turned-violinist. Concrete details of Vivaldi’s music education are lacking, but the Italian composer likely received his music education from his father. The father-son pair would retain close ties throughout Vivaldi’s adult life. In fact, Vivaldi’s father is believed to have been the composer’s principal copyist between the mid-1710s and mid-1730s, when Battista died.
Beyond the hundreds of instrumental concertos that have formed the core of his reputation, Vivaldi also composed a substantial amount of sacred and secular vocal music. Largely overlooked today are his roughly 40 cantatas, including Cessate, omai cessate from the later stages of his career. The text, of unknown authorship, has not been set by any other composers, raising the possibility that Vivaldi himself penned it. The poetry revels in the anguish of frustrated love, though by the end these emotions have swelled into a full-blown call for vengeance. Such works offer all the musical charm and power of opera without the need for staging, choreography, and elaborate musical forces.
Cessate, omai cessate includes two recitative and aria pairings. It with a posturing Largo redolent of a French Overture style, but it quickly morphs into recitative with the entrance of the countertenor voice. The material is forceful but pales in comparison to the brilliant Larghetto da capo aria that follows, marked by swirling string arpeggios (usually played pizzicato) and wide vocal leaps. Vivaldi keys into the word “lagrimar” (to weep) and features a short, highly contrasting B section before the reprise. After the second recitative, which marks a darker turn in the poetry, Vivaldi closes the cantata with a feverish Allegro that sprints by with almost manic abandon.
© Jason Stell and Emily Masincup, 2024