Monteverdi:
Madrigals, Books I-IX (complete).
Concerto Italiano conducted by Rinaldo Alessandrini. Naïve. $42.99 (11 CDs).
The madrigal is one of those classical-music forms with which listeners
tend to think they are quite familiar: through-composed secular music for three
to six voices dating to the Renaissance and early Baroque periods, and
perfected above all by Monteverdi. Indeed, the madrigal form was considered so
clearly identifiable that composers of much later time periods liked to use it
for specific sorts of scene-setting – think of the madrigals in Gilbert and
Sullivan’s The Mikado and Ruddigore, and for that matter of Anna
Russell’s creation of a madrigal as part of her parodistic tribute to Gilbert
and Sullivan! But as so often with things that “everyone knows,” it turns out
that the matter of the madrigal is not so straightforward as tends to be
believed – and that although Monteverdi certainly brought the traditional form
to a pinnacle of expressiveness, he was far from its champion: he was actually
responsible for hastening its demise by transforming elements of the madrigal
into dramatic scenes and multi-voice or single-voice works (often with
instruments) comparable to those in his operas.
The true story of Monteverdi and the madrigal comes through with
brilliant effectiveness in Naïve’s 11-disc release of all nine books of
Monteverdi’s madrigals, performed with enormous skill, understanding and flair
by Concerto Italiano under Rinaldo Alessandrini. The eight sets of madrigals
published during Monteverdi’s lifetime appeared over more than half a century
(1587-1638), with the ninth book (1651) being a posthumous collection of
miscellany titled Madrigali e Canzonette;
the recordings gathered for this superb release were made during more than a
quarter of a century (1993-2021). Calling Monteverdi’s and Alessandrini’s
productions prodigious and monumental is equally apt in both cases. There is
simply no better ensemble in Monteverdi’s music than Concerto Italiano, and
although the specific singers and instrumentalists changed significantly over
time – wading through the details of just who performed what and when in this
release is time-consuming and difficult, despite a presentation that, under the
circumstances, makes it as easy as possible to do so (which is to say, not very
easy) – the uniformly high quality of every single performance shows the tremendous
knowledge and care that Alessandrini has always brought to performances by the
group that he founded in 1984.
Alessandrini is not only a superb musical
guide to the Monteverdi madrigals but also an excellent verbal guide, offering a 21-page booklet essay on this repertoire
that is at once erudite and deeply knowledgeable – and chatty and informal, as
if Alessandrini is discussing a good friend (which, on one level, he is). The
writing traces the changes that Monteverdi brought to the madrigal form and
explains how he expanded and then went beyond it, rendering it archaic (if not
obsolete) almost if not quite single-handedly. It also delves into the underlying
characteristics of madrigal expressiveness – most importantly, keeping a
compositional and performance focus on the words and their meaning and not
allowing the musical settings to undermine or interfere with the verbiage. And
Alessandrini points out some pitfalls associated with this very extended
recording project – noting, for instance, that using native Italian speakers as
singers can be a disadvantage as well as an advantage, since deep familiarity
with everyday use of the language can result in de-emphasizing certain elements
of the poetry that should not be glossed over.
The importance of seeing and hearing madrigals as text-focused
productions is further emphasized by a second booklet essay, a seven-page one
by Renzo Bragantini that discusses the specific texts chosen by Monteverdi and
some of the differences among the poets whose works he chose to set. This
writeup also makes some fascinating points, showing how the choice of poetry
changed as the nature of the madrigal itself did, with Monteverdi selecting
different poets over time based on how he wanted his music to develop (and also,
as is noted in passing, based on some political considerations involving the
Italian city-states of his time).
The strong focus on the madrigals’ texts by both Alessandrini and
Bragantini points to the only serious flaw in this otherwise exemplary release:
it contains no texts at all, so that when Alessandrini points to specific
settings of specific words in specific pieces – as he often does – any reader
who is not thoroughly familiar with the Italian language and with the specific
writings set by Monteverdi will be well out of his or her depth. The omission
of the texts – there is not even a link that would lead listeners to them
online – is disappointing and deeply unsettling in light of the cogency of the
arguments by Alessandrini and Bragantini about the words’ importance not only
in madrigals but also in the more-operatic pieces into which they eventually
changed (indeed, all of Italian opera evolved in the direction of prima le parole, notwithstanding
Salieri’s Prima la musica e poi le parole
– it was the German school that put the music first, and the French that kept
both in balance).
Despite the obscurity of some of the learned commentary within this
boxed set as a result of the absence of texts, there is nothing obscure
whatsoever in the performances. They simply glow. The first three books of
madrigals (1587, 1590, 1592) adhere closely to what most listeners will expect
in the form, although even in these earlier works there is a mixture of
homophony and counterpoint that was somewhat at odds with the approach of older
pieces in the form. The fourth and fifth books (1603, 1605) include a shift
toward poetry of a more personal type and settings of increasing emotional
heft. The sixth book (1614) contains elements that appear to be highly
personal, and its madrigals often alternate solo vocal passages with polyphony.
And then the seventh and eighth books (1619, 1638) move far beyond the
traditional dimensions of the madrigal, bringing in settings for one, two,
three, four and six voices and including scenes of high drama that are clearly
and explicitly operatic in their emotional intensity and that, indeed, are
frequently heard without any reference to their origin within sets of works
that are now only nominally madrigals in the original sense: Combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda, Il
Ballo della Ingrate.
The incomparable richness of Monteverdi’s madrigals and madrigals-in-name-only is beautifully matched to the sensitivity and stylistic understanding of Alessandrini and Concerto Italiano. There has never been a survey of this music like this one: so self-assured, so carefully assembled, so sensitively sung and played, so beautifully recorded. Monteverdi’s importance in classical music can scarcely be overstated: his role as creator of the first opera recognizable as such (L’Orfeo, 1607) is commonly considered his greatest achievement, especially when added to his later composition of Il ritorno d'Ulisse in patria (1640) and L'incoronazione di Poppea (1643). This collection shows how, in transforming the polyphonic madrigal of the 15th and 16th centuries into a work of broader scope and considerably more emotional power, Monteverdi paved the way for his and others’ operatic works while producing pieces that, on their own merits, are wonderfully conceived and – as performed by Alessandrini and Concerto Italiano – impeccable in their elegance and beauty.
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