TARTINI
Violin Concertos: in B♭,
op. 1/12;
in g,
op. 1/1;
in C; in F,
op. 1/5;
in D,
op. 1/4
•
Elizabeth Wallfisch (vn); Nicholas Kraemer, cond; Raglan Baroque Players
•
HELIOS 55334 (70:11)
Elizabeth Wallfisch’s collection of violin concertos by Giuseppe Tartini (four from his op. 1—the 12th Concerto, according to Duncan Druse’s notes, may not be Tartini’s—and a fifth, the Concerto in C Major, from a manuscript in the University of California, Berkeley) originally appeared on Hyperion 67345, which I reviewed in 27:2. I noted there that Wallfisch produced a tone on a 2001 Amati copy by Roger Hargreaves (the notes to the new release on Helios don’t mention the maker) that approached that of a modern instrument. The music hints at Vivaldi in the strikingly virtuosic, arpeggiated sequential passagework and the triadic themes (as in the first movement of the Concerto in D Major), as well as in the high-flying cadenzas of the opening Allegro of the Concerto in G Minor; but Corelli served as Tartini’s hero (the later composer wrote a celebrated set of variations—
L’Arte del arco
—on the Gavotte in F Major from the Master’s solo sonata da camera, op. 5/10). His homage appears in the melodic design of passages like that of the Adagio from the concerto, op. 1/12. But Tartini’s own voice also speaks clearly in these concertos, as Corelli’s and Vivaldi’s did in theirs, even when he comes closest to them. For example, the swirling figuration in the finale, reminiscent of so many similar passages in Vivaldi’s concertos, remains only reminiscent, while Tartini’s voice predominates. The G-Minor Concerto contains an extra movement, a two-and-a-half-minute
Fuga à la breve
, in which the solo violin doesn’t participate. The violin explores the higher registers in the first movement (Wallfisch sounds bright and buoyant in these passages, as well as in the cadenzas), and after a slow movement consisting of an aria-like melody sparsely accompanied by strings, engages the orchestra in exploring a theme, wholly Tartini’s own, based on energetic repeated notes.
Wallfisch adorns the Siciliano of the Concerto in C Major with piquant ornamentation that makes it seem lighter and perhaps wittier than it might in a performance on modern instruments with the soloist pressing from it all the oil that violinists typically extracted from such slow movements several generations ago. I mentioned in my earlier review that while Wallfisch’s lighter way with this music may be far removed from that taken by Felix Ayo and the Symphonia Perusina in their collections of Tartini’s concertos on Dynamic, she never makes her passagework sound like so much crunchy cereal (although the Guglielmos and L’Arte dell’Arco, in their recordings of Tartini’s concertos on period instruments for Dynamic, didn’t always sit down to a breakfast of bran, either). The Raglan Baroque Players provide subtly transparent accompaniments (although they make cocky, dramatic statements of their own, as in the Adagio of the Concerto in F Major) that complement Wallfisch’s sparkling but nuanced solos.
Tartini’s early life, combining swordplay, a secret marriage, flight to anonymity in a monastery, and periods of philosophical and proto-acoustical and harmonic research, approaches the picaresque. Violinist Albert Spalding provided a somewhat fictionalized account of it in his novel
A Fiddle, a Sword, and a Lady
, but perhaps the most vivid portrait of Tartini appears in his concertos and sonatas, so vividly recreated by Wallfisch and the Raglan Baroque Players in clear and detailed recorded sound. I heartily recommended Hyperion’s earlier release, and there’s no cause, upon a second consideration, for diminished enthusiasm. The program should still provide not only a compelling case for Tartini’s concertos for those who don’t know them but an imaginative alternative for those who do.
Robert Maxham
