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RECITAL REVIEW
October 6, 2005
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By Anna Carol Dudley
Cecilia Bartoli provided the sparks for Cal Performances' centennial celebration
in Berkeley's Zellerbach Hall Thursday night. She was accompanied, fittingly,
by the Zürich Opera's Orchestra La Scintilla. The program featured music from
Bartoli's hit CD, Opera Proibita — that is, operatic music written
and performed in Rome, thinly disguised as oratorio, in the first decade of the
18th century, when the Pope had placed a ban on opera performance. During
that decade three extraordinary composers of vocal music thrived in Rome
— Antonio Caldara, Alessandro Scarlatti and the young George Frideric
Handel. Their works were celebrated in this concert.
Bartoli framed her program with works of staggering virtuosity, beginning with
Scarlatti's "L'alta Roma" (Noble Rome, adorned with the palms of war)
from San Filippo Neri, and ending with Handel's "Disserratevi, o
porte d'Averno" (Open, O gates of Hell) from La Resurrezione. If
she drives her red Fiat around Rome at the speed with which she can sing, she
must collect a lot of traffic tickets. She raced through a da capo aria two
miles a minute, every note in place, then started over, adding even more notes,
higher, lower and faster. That's baroque embellishment in the original spirit,
never mind whether it was with the original pitches.
But what really sets Bartoli apart from mere mortals is her intense musicality,
combined with her whole-hearted delight in singing. Her face, her whole body
is one with the music, both as she sings and as she listens to the orchestra. She
can spin out impossibly long phrases on one breath, as in Caldara's "Si
piangete pupille dolenti" (Weep, sorrowful eyes), so expressively that the
listener, not only impressed, is deeply moved. At the end of Scarlatti's
"Caldo sangue" (Hot blood) she sang "I am drained and close to death"
so heart-breakingly, so softly, that it was hard to bear an audience member's
premature applause. She delivered Handel's "Un leggiadro giovinetto"
(A graceful boy) lightly, gracefully, seductively. Caldara's "Come foco"
(Like a flame) was a delightful dance.
In all this wealth of beautiful music, Handel stood out as the absolute master. In addition to the angel's aria from La Resurrezione and other florid pieces, she sang "Lo sperai trover nel vero il piace" (I hope to find pleasure in truth) from Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno (The triumph of Time and Disillusion) — an extraordinarily scored piece for soprano and oboe, often unaccompanied and sometimes with just continuo, the orchestra used only for an affecting ritornello at the end of the A section. Oboist Jasu Moisio paired beautifully with Bartoli. One of her encores was the great aria from Julius Caesar, "Da tempeste il legno infranto." And the hit song of the evening was Handel's "Lascia la spina" (Leave the thorn), also from Il trionfo, expressively sung and delicately varied by Bartoli. In fact it must have been a hit when Handel first wrote it; a few years later he decided to re-use it as "Lascia ch'io pianga" ("Let me weep") in his Rinaldo — a reminder of the many Italian duets he wrote in Rome and later converted into choruses for Messiah. The Orchestra La Scintilla, under the sure command of concertmaster Ada Pesch, was indeed "scintillating." The program was greatly enhanced by judiciously placed instrumental pieces, including two Handel overtures. An overture by Caldara began with a faint murmur from cello and bass, picking up instruments as it went along until all were engaged, ingeniously juxtaposing cello spiccato bowing with the pluck of the theorbo. And of course the players took the opportunity to insinuate Corelli into the program: his Concerto Grosso in F, op.6 no.12. He does write wonderfully for strings, and they played him with panache. It was fun to see the women of the orchestra dressed in any number of styles and colors. I think the men should be liberated from their sober tails. Why should the peahens have all the fun? Before the concert began, the audience was informed that Ms. Bartoli had been the victim of a cold, and begged our indulgence. In the event, this almost seemed like bragging. But it does give me the opportunity to attribute a few fleeting lapses in her tuning — mainly in the opening recitative — to the cold. Bartoli gives full value, and had the audience in the palm of her hand from the first note out of her expressive mouth. Two encores in addition to the aforementioned Handel were a setting of "Ombra mai fù" by Bononcini and Scarlatti's "Che dolce simpatico" (How sweetly congenial), enlivened by Esther Fluo-Baumberger's recorder accompaniment. The whole concert was dolce simpatico.
(Anna Carol Dudley is a singer; teacher; member of the faculties of the
University of California, Berkeley; San Francisco State University lecturer
emerita; and director emerita of the San Francisco Early Music Society's
Baroque Music Workshop.)
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Cecilia Bartoli
