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EARLY MUSIC REVIEW
March 20, 2004
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By Joseph Sargent
Philharmonia Baroque's latest offering, a journey to the French court of
Louis XIV entitled "La Musique du Roi Soleil," induced conflicting reactions
during Saturday's performance at Berkeley's First Congregational Church,
ranging from the dramatic to the dull. Heading up the dramatic side was the
ensemble itself, conducted by Bernard Labadie with dazzling energy. On the
dull side were certain portions of the repertoire, made all the more
conspicuous by juxtaposition against music of far greater exuberance.
Fortunately, there was more than enough drama to counterbalance the dull,
thanks to the group's impassioned, impressive performance.
Life for the Sun King was filled with music-concert performances, to be
sure, but also music to accompany the more prosaic events of daily court
life. Among the latter occasions were the king's dinners, for which
composers were required to supply appropriate musical entertainment. Hence the emergence of pieces such as Michel-Richard de Lalande's Symphonies pour les Soupers du Roy, to be played between courses of Louis' sumptuous evening repasts.
Introducing such music into a program sounds intriguing, but the presence of
three Lalande suites, occupying half the concert, made one hunger for more
variety on the menu. Perhaps the music works better in its original context
than in concert form. As concert pieces, the individual movements seem
stylistically generic, with a preponderance of relentless dotted rhythms,
recycled melodic gestures and customary solo/ensemble texture changes. The result could have been dire if not for the ensemble's consummate
craftsmanship, which managed to infuse the pieces with enough panache to
keep things interesting.
Some highlights did emerge among these works. The opening symphony, Concert de Trompettes, designed to accompany the king's entrance into the dining hall, received an appropriately majestic introduction in "Prélude avec les trompettes (Rondeau)." Trumpets and timpani punctuated the movement with jaunty rhythms amid more lyrical episodes and provided bustling energy for the remainder of the work, giving it some pulses of vigor. Recorder and tambourine timbres enlivened the Cinquième Suite, while a set of airs in the work's inner movements, performed by several string and woodwind soloists with grace and polish, showed off the depth of Philharmonia Baroque's artistry. A striking moment of drama followed with the "Grande Pièce in Ge-ré-sol," as an ominous low drone rose and faded again beneath the surface of the upper textures. Notable in the Septième Suite were the snappy opening “Allemande,” the sinewy "Trio de hautbois" and the mysterious, languid closing “Lentement,” giving way to an uplifting faster tempo at its conclusion. The dinner music having been digested, more traditional fare came forth with Jean-Marie Leclair's Violin Concerto in B-flat major, Op. 10, No. 1. The most renowned French violinist of the early 18th-century, Leclair was also pivotal in dismantling national resistance to the Italianate concerto with works such as this, bearing shades of Vivaldi in its forceful unison passages and sequential harmonic motion. The piece displayed Philharmonia Baroque in all its dramatic force. Stylish flourishes and powerful dynamic contrasts punctuated the light, graceful Allegro, while the Andante opened with bold gestures before receding into a lovely, gentle repose. Violin soloist Katherine Kyme gave the work a calm, controlled performance, carefully negotiating the numerous double stops. Occasionally faulty intonation and lack of a certain spark in the early movements yielded to a more fiery demeanor in the closing “Gigue,”> though she didn't always match the ensemble's unbridled enthusiasm.
Jean-Féry Rebel's highly creative ballet Les Élémens was an ear-catching closer. One of the famed "Violons du Roi" (the king's elite 24-member ensemble) and also a versatile conductor, Rebel pulled out all the stops for this masterpiece, with its daring harmonic gestures and vibrant orchestral sonorities. A haunting dissonance opens the first movement, ”Le Cahos,” depicting the chaotic confusion out of which the four elements emerge into their natural order. Each element is depicted musically: The rumbling bass (representing the Earth) arises against lyrical flute lines (the cascades of Water). Soaring piccolo melodies infuse the music with breaths of fresh Air, and sparkling violin lines give the music the crackle of Fire. The ensemble's performance was beautifully evocative, capturing this imagery with luscious sound and highly effective character shifts. Later movements presented a delightful array of textures and moods. Among the piece's most affecting moments was the wonderfully lush violin melody that opens “Loure [I],” set alongside gentle flute lines before yielding to more rapid flourishes. Also engaging was the final “Air pour l'amour: Rondeau-Caprice,” a vivacious movement combining brilliant string passages with tempestuous dramatic swells and moments of uplifting heroism.
(Joseph Sargent, a doctoral candidate in musicology at Stanford
University, is a professional writer and editor as well as a performer, conductor and scholar of early music.)
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Bernard Labadie
Katherine Kyme