Il falso Vivaldi

Nicolas Chédeville (1705 - 6 agosto 1782): Sonata in sol minore per oboe e continuo, n. 6 della raccolta Il pastor fido (pubblicata nel 1737 come op. 13 di Antonio Vivaldi). Paul Goodwin, oboe; Nigel North, arciliuto e chitarra barocca; Susan Sheppard, violoncello; Frances Eustace, fagotto; John Toll, clavicembalo e organo.

  1. Vivace [0:09]
  2. Fuga da cappella: Alla breve [1:35]
  3. Largo [2:27]
  4. Allegro, ma non troppo [4:54]

Chédeville

Allegretto vivace

Hans Gál (5 agosto 1890 - 1987): Concerto in do maggiore per pianoforte e orchestra op. 57 (1948). Hartmut Hudezeck, pianoforte; Philharmonisches Orchester Altenburg-Gera, dir. Laurent Wagner.

  1. Allegro energico ma non troppo
  2. Adagio [11:15]
  3. Allegretto vivace [21:10]

Hans Gál

Quartetto per soprano e archi

 
Betsy Jolas (5 agosto 1926): Quatuor II per soprano, violino, viola e violoncello (1966). Mady Mesplé, soprano; Trio À Cordes Français: Gérard Jarry, violino; Serge Collot, viola; Michel Tournus, violoncello.
 

Sehnsucht

 
Siegfried Wagner (1869 - 4 agosto 1930): Sehnsucht, poema sinfonico, da Schiller (1895). Phil­harmonisches Staats­orchester Hamburg, dir. Werner Andreas Albert.
Scritta a 26 anni dal figlio di Richard Wagner e Cosima Liszt, questa composizione fu ritrovata solo nel 1979.
 

Una pastorella, un’oca e il trifoglio

Oswald von Wolkenstein (c1377 - 2 agosto 1445): Ain graserin durch kúlen tau. Ensemble für frühe Musik Augsburg.

Ain graserin durch kúlen tau
mit weissen, blossen fússlin zart
hat mich erfreut in grúner au;
das macht ir sichel brawn gehart,
do ich ir half den gattern rucken,
smucken fúr die schrencken,
lencken, sencken in die seul,
wolbewart, damit das freul
hinfúr an sorg nicht fliesen möcht ir gensel.

Als ich die schön her zeunen sach,
ain kurze weil ward mir ze lanck,
bis das ich ir den ungemach
tett wenden zwischen zwaier schranck.
mein häcklin klein hett ich ir vor
embor zu dienst gewetzet,
gehetzet, netzet; wie dem was,
schúbren half ich ir das gras.
«Zuck nicht, mein schatz!»
«Simm nain ich, lieber Jensel.»

Als ich den kle hett abgemät
und all ir lucken wolverzeunt,
dannocht gert si, das ich jät
noch ainmal inn der nidern peunt;
ze lon wolt si von rosen winden,
binden mir ain krenzel.
«Swenzel, renzel mir den flachs!»
«Treut in, wiltu, das er wachs!
herz liebe gans, wie schön ist dir dein grensel.»

Musica di sua maestà: Giovanni Ernesto di Sassonia-Weimar

Giovanni Ernesto di Sassonia-Weimar (1696 - 1º agosto 1715): Concerto in sol maggiore per violino e orchestra. Thüringer Bach Collegium.

  1. Allegro assai
  2. Adagio
  3. Presto e staccato

Lo stesso concerto nella trascrizione per organo eseguita da Johann Sebastian Bach (BWV 592). Ton Koopman all’organo Schnitger della Martinikerk in Groninga.

  1. (Allegro)
  2. Grave [3:18]
  3. Presto [5:10]

BWV 592

Un Concerto di Michele Stratico, violinista e compositore dilettante

 
Michele Stratico (31 luglio 1728 - 1783): Concerto in sol minore per violino e archi. Giuliano Carmignola, violino; Venice Baroque Orchestra, dir. Andrea Marcon.

  1. Allegro
  2. Grave [6:14]
  3. Allegro assai [14:41]

Carmiglnola Marcon

La Soave Melodia e la sua Corrente

Andrea Falconiero o Falconieri (c1585 - 29 luglio 1656): La Suave Melodia e Su Corrente, dal I Libro di canzone, sinfonie, fantasie… (1650). La Musa Armonica: Lina Manrique, viola da gamba; Parsival Castro, tiorba; Diogo Rodrigues, chitarra barocca.

Folk songs: 20. Barbara Allen

Anonimo (sec. XVII): Barbara Allen, ballad di origine scozzese. Alfred Deller, controtenore; Desmond Dupré, liuto.

In Scarlet town where I was born
There was a fair maid dwellin’,
Made ev’ry youth cry «Well-a-day.»
Her name was Barbara Allen.

All in the merry month of may,
When green buds they were swellin’,
Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen.

So slowly, slowly she came up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when there she came:
«Young man, I think you’re dyin’.»

When he was dead, and laid in grave,
Her heart was struck with sorrow.
«Oh mother, mother, make my bed:
For I shall die tomorrow.»

Farewell, she said, ye virgins all,
And shun the fault I fell in:
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barbara Allen.

Folk songs: 19. Yonder comes a courteous knight

 
Thomas Ravenscroft (c1582 - c1633): Yonder comes a courteous knight, partsong a 4 (pubblicato in Deuteromelia, 1609, n. 22). Pro Cantione Antiqua.

Notevoli il testo, che presenta alla fine una «morale» davvero curiosa 🙂 , e l’armonizzazione, severa e moderna allo stesso tempo, nonché l’interpretazione dell’ensemble Pro Cantione Antiqua.

Yonder comes a courteous knight,
Lustely raking over the lay;
He was well ware of a bonny lasse,
As she came wand’ring over the way.
  Then she sang downe a downe, hey downe derry.

Jove you speed, fayre ladye, he said,
Among the leaves that be so greene;
If I were a king, and wore a crowne,
Full soone, fair lady, shouldst thou be a queen.

Also Jove save you, faire lady,
Among the roses that be so red;
If I have not my will of you,
Full soone, faire lady, shall I be dead.

[Then he lookt east, then hee lookt west,
He lookt north, so did he south;
He could not finde a privy place,
For all lay in the divel’s mouth.
]

If you will carry me, gentle sir,
A mayde unto my father’s hall,
Then shall you have your will of me,
Under purple and under paule.

[He set her up upon a steed,
And him selfe upon another,
And all the day he rode her by,
As though they had been sister and brother.
]

When she came to her father’s hall,
It was well walled round about;
She rode in at the wicket-gate,
And shut the foure-ear’d foole without.

You had me, quoth she, abroad in the field,
Among the corne, amidst the hay,
Where you might had your will of mee,
For, in good faith, sir, I never said nay.

[Ye had me also amid the field,
Among the rushes that were so browne,
Where you might had your will of me,
But you had not the face to lay me downe.
]

He pulled out his nut-browne sword,
And wipt the rust off with his sleeve,
And said: Jove’s curse come to his heart,
That any woman would beleeve!

When you have your owne true-love
A mile or twaine out of the towne,
Spare not for her gay clothing,
But lay her body flat on the ground.