Luogo e data di registrazione		La Chaux-de-Fonds (Svizzera) - luglio 1973 (Flute Concertos [6500 707]) La Chaux-de-Fonds (Svizzera) - settembre 1973 (Flute Concertos [6500 820]) La Chaux-de-Fonds (Svizzera) - luglio 1975 (4 Oboe Concertos) La Chaux-de-Fonds (Svizzera) - settembre 1976 (Five Oboe Concertos) La Chaux-de-Fonds (Svizzera) - settembre 1974 (Konzerte für Fagott)
	Registrazione: live / studio		studio
	Producer / Engineer		-
	Prima Edizione originale LP		Philips - 6500 707 - (1 LP) - durata 52' 27" - (p) 1974 - Analogico - (Flute Concertos [6500 707]) Philips - 6500 280 - (1 LP) - durata 47' 14" - (p) 1974 - Analogico - (Flute Concertos [6500 820]) Philips - 9500 044 - (1 LP) - durata 47' 02" - (p) 1976 - Analogico - (4 Oboe Concertos) Philips - 9500 299 - (1 LP) - durata 47' 34" - (p) 1977 - Analogico - (Five Oboe Concertos) Philips - 6500 919 - (1 LP) - durata 44' 42" - (p) 1975 - Analogico - (Konzerte für Fagott)
	Note		-

FLUTE CONCERTOS The great musical revolutions have tended to occur every three hundred years. The major figures in these revolutions have seen themselves as innovators and have expressly set as their goal the creation of a wholly new and different type of music. In a treatise which appeared in France in 1320 and was entitled “Ars nova,” this latter term is assigned to that refined music which, in its perfect combination of multi-part composition and lyric poetry, raised music for the first time to the level of a free, autonomous art. Soon after 1600 the Florentine composer Giulio Caccini gave the title “Nuove Musiche” to his volume of solo vocal music with keyboard or lute accompaniment. Thus the Baroque era was introduced by a new lyrical art as well as by the new dramatic art of opera. And finally, immediately after the First World War, there came to the fore in Central Europe that progressive form of composition which signalled the imminent demise of late Romanticism, with its dissolution of tonality; this was expressly proclaimed as “New Music.” The revolutionaries are followed by the great masters who put their creative stamp upon what has been delivered into their hands by the “inventors” and theorists of “New Music.” Antonio Vivaldi was a child of such an inventive century (the seventeenth); in his works, stamped with the seal of creative greatness and craftsmanlike mastery, lies the grandiose confirmation and justification of all the foregoing revolutionary tumult, which had completely changed the face of music as it had been known up to that time. In the century before Vivaldi, music had still derived its strength from an indissoluble union between singer and player, a marriage which could not have been broken without losses being sustained. Vivaldi was the first composer to bring about an indisputable emancipation of pure instrumental music, creating a music which only follows its own laws and even claims superiority to vocal music. The former thus attains a new and central musical status. This was a decisive move on Vivaldi’s part, a move of greatest consequence and it received its triumphant justification in the works of Bach, Handel, and the Viennese Classicists. It was only in the instrumental works of Vivaldi that the last echoes of so-called Renaissance music finally died away; a new musical age had superseded the last. All aspects of Vivaldi’s instrumental music also symbolise and provide striking evidence of the social changes of the age. Seldom has a whole family of instruments been as thoroughly eclipsed as when Vivaldi replaced the instruments of Renaissance music with his own fully-fledged Baroque grouping. In place of a body of sound made up of a series of homogeneous sound-groups, which symbolised community, the Baroque substituted a grouping in which a gulf between “ruling” and “serving” instruments became all too apparent. Thus the era of musical absolutism was ushered in. The mass of mere accompanying instruments was subordinated to an élite of instrumental soloists. Many instruments used in Renaissance music now disappeared. There were, however, a few which succeeded in keeping up with and surviving the development in solo virtuosity. Others, which till that point had led a peripheral existence in musical art, emerged from their anonymity and set themselves at the head of the triumphant procession of Baroque music. The violin, thanks to its high-soaring capacity, its penetrating tone, and its potential for virtuoso display, assumed its now unquestioned leading role. For this instrument alone Vivaldi wrote 250 solo concertos, not least because he himself was an excellent violinist. Among the brass and woodwind it was a hitherto little-known instrument, the flute, which, since it shared similar virtues to that of the violin, suddenly came to the fore as a popular and admired solo instrument. Vivaldi wrote for the flute, including besides duets, 11 complete concertos, which resemble in their architectonic structure the three-movement violin concertos. With regard to their characteristic features, however - including the conscious attempt to paint “sound pictures,” - they were wholly tailored for this expressive instrument. Among the flute concertos, there is an unmistakable “programme” work in the G minor Concerto, “La notte,” which by the introduction of a bassoon and a solo violin mysteriously evokes the night. The climax of this great work is an interpolated movement, “Il sonno” (Sleep) which, with its restlessness, suggests to the listener the visions of a dream-like state of consciousness. In earlier epochs of Western music, there was no symphonic programme music, as for example of the kind Franz Liszt and Richard Strauss composed, but there existed “pictorial” compositions. Among roughly 450 instrumental concertos by Vivaldi, there are no small number, a good two dozen in fact, whose titles point to some “pictorial” intention or to that of depicting a particular milieu. Among them there are concertos which, like the cycle “The Four Seasons,” already became famous during the composer’s lifetime and which, in today’s Vivaldi renaissance, have aspired to universal fame. Apart from “La notte” the F major Concerto entitled “La tempesta di mare” (Storm at Sea) also belongs to these “pictorial” works. This piece, apart from the occasional interpolation of brass instruments and a short Largo, has an orchestral character. Especially in the first movement, you feel you can hear and see the waves of the storm-tossed sea rising, falling, and breaking. And even in the Largo the unisono of the storm breaks in upon the peaceful episode between the two tempestuous movements. Karl Grebe OBOE CONCERTOS On August 12, 1703 the Governors of the Pio Ospedale della Pietà, decided to appoint teachers of violin and oboe on the recommendation of the musical director. Later that autumn Vivaldi, newly ordained as a priest, joined the staff, on which he served in various capacities connected with the teaching of the violin and the direction of the orchestra for the best part of 40 years (with several long breaks). Four years later Ludwig Erdmann was appointed as the long overdue oboe teacher. He stayed, however, for only two years at the most, departing to serve the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and the post fell vacant. In June 1713 lgnazio Siber became oboe master, but he left in 1715 and had to be replaced by Onofrio Penati, a veteran of the St. Mark’s orchestra. Penati’s employment ceased in 1722; possibly through death or infirmity, and thereafter the post was left unfilled. Vivaldi may well have written his oboe concertos (20 for one oboe, three for two oboes, one for oboe and bassoon, and two for oboe and violin - not to speak of the instrument’s frequent appearance in ensemble concertos) for any of these three men or their best pupils. Some of the concertos were undoubtedly used - though not necessarily originally written - to fulfil commissions from outside the Pietà. Because very few of Vivaldi’s compositions can be accurately dated, it would be hazardous to claim that his oboe concertos were the first to be written. It is likely that the Germans, who became familiar with the oboe as a vehicle of virtuosity earlier than the Italians, were in the field before him. The earliest published oboe concertos by an Italian were the eight in Tomaso Albinoni’s “Concerti a cinque,” Op. 7, which came out in 1715. Very soon, examples by other Venetians such as Alessandro Marcello and Vivaldi himself also appeared. Because the oboe had not yet fully established itself in Italy, home of the voice and the violin, the style of writing for it was often patently modelled on a pre-existing one: Albinoni tended to treat the solo oboe rather like a vocal soloist, emphasising its cantabile qualities; Vivaldi, as one might expect from Europe’s foremost violin virtuoso, was inclined to treat it very much like a stringed instrument, stretching to the utmost its capacity to execute rapid, arpeggiated passage-work and sometimes leaving the player little opportunity to draw breath. The forms used in Vivaldi’s oboe concertos do not differ from the ones he established at the outset of his career in his violin concertos. The typical form of his outer movements is characterised by the alternation of a ritornello, or refrain, scored for the full ensemble, and various episodes, in which the soloist comes into prominence. Ritornellos are further distinguished by relative stability of key and a common fund of thematic ideas, episodes by their propensity to modulate and the free derivation (or invention) of their musical material. The Concerto in A minor, RV 463 originated as the bassoon concerto RV 500. In its new guise it retains the tutti sections note for note, substituting fresh solo portions. The opening Allegro is interesting for the way in which it introduces ritornello ideas into the episodes as a background to the soloist, a feature more commonly found in Bach. The finale brings a surprise, as it does not return to A minor but stays in C major, the key of the second movement. Mistake or no, Vivaldi did not attempt to correct it when rescoring the work - and with good reason, for this finale is a strong movement with more than a hint of fugue. The Concerto in C, RV 447 exists in two other versions, one for bassoon (RV 470) and the other also for oboe (RV 448), which have different finales. The opening Allegro non molto exemplifies Vivaldi’s “violinistic” treatment of the oboe. Note also the particularly wide fluctuations in harmonic rhythm (the rate of chord change). The Larghetto presents a cantilena over a typically Vivaldian accompaniment of pulsating chords on the upper strings; it is introduced by a sombre ritornello, whose last chords round off the movement. The finale is one of Vivaldi’s fairly rare variation movements, frankly ”concertante” in style. RV 460 was published as No. 6 of Vivaldi’s Op. 11 in 1729. It must have lain on the composer’s shelf for some while, as an adaptation of it for violin appeared as his Op. 9 No. 3 (RV 334, Ricordi 127) in 1727! G minor is for Vivaldi a stormy key; the feeling of restlessness is enhanced in the first movement by the unusual chord (a second inversion of the subdominant chord) on which the ritornello opens. The second movement resembles that of the famous concerto in A minor for two violins, Op. 3 No. 8, in being built over a modulating ground-bass. RV 450 is another bassoon concerto arranged for oboe by the composer. In the opening Allegro molto note the variety and number of musical ideas. The Larghetto, in A minor, is conceived as a very florid cantabile outpouring for the oboe, interrupted from time to time by a short, unison motto on the strings; the first violin adds a few long-breathed phrases. Snatches of canon between the two violins against a buzz of repeated notes on the viola set the tone for the finale, a light-hearted whirl. The Concerto in C, RV 451 is written in a simple, appealing style. The ritornellos of its outer movements both exploit one device of which Vivaldi, anticipating Schubert, was especially fond: the juxtaposition of major and minor versions of the same key. In the slow movement the ritornello is reduced to a simple frame around an extended solo portion. RV 457. is an adaptation by the composer of his Bassoon Concerto RV 485, whose style shows it to be a late work. In the first two movements the ritornellos and, for the most part, the accompaniment to the solo episodes have been taken over as they stand, but the finale has been thoroughly reworked. Note in the finale the “masculine” opening and the “feminine” riposte (where the bass drops out) - a foretaste of the Classical style. The first movement of RV 461 is unusual for Vivaldi in the high degree of thematic integration it evinces. Much of the melodic writing, and even more of the accompaniment, in the solo episodes can be traced back to ritornello material. The slow movement has a simple framing ritornello as in RV 451. “Lombard” rhythms, in which a long main note is preceded by two very short notes beginning on the beat, are prominent in the finale. In RV 453 the ritornello of the first movement begins (disregarding a quaver upbeat) with an anapaestic rhythm very frequent in Vivaldi’s music but rare in that of his contemporaries, and which suggests Slavonic folk-music. The D minor slow movement is scored, like that of a solo sonata, for oboe and continuo alone. A rhythmic subtlety reminiscent of the last movement of Mozart’s Oboe Quartet occurs in the finale: although the metre is 12/8 alla giga, the beats are sometimes divided into four instead of three in the solo part. The surviving manuscript of RV 455 is non-autograph but bears the autograph inscription “per Sassonia” (for Saxony, i.e. the Dresden Court). An unusual feature of the ritornello of the opening movement is the obbligato part of the soloist, who usually merely has to double the first violin. The accompaniment in all three movements is unusually lean, making ample use of unisons, while the solo writing is lively and extrovert. Michael Talbot BASSOON CONCERTOS Composers have been ungenerous to the bassoon as a solo instrument in concertos. Mozart’s early concerto in B flat (K. 191) is probably the only bassoon concerto included in the standard repertoire. But if one composer could make amends for all it would be Vivaldi. Peter Ryom lists 39 solo concertos for bassoon - almost as many as Vivaldi’s concertos for all other woodwind instruments combined! As 37 of them (the remaining two being incomplete) have been made available to modern players in Ricordi’s collected edition we almost have an embarras de richesse (The Ricordi numbers of the Concertos recorded here are, in order of appearance, 71, 28, 266, and 270.) All Vivaldi’s bassoon concertos survive in autograph manuscripts contained in the volumes of the great Foà and Giordano collections now housed in the Biblioteca Nazionale, Turin. It is believed that these volumes are the main repository of works written by Vivaldi for the Pio Ospedale della Pietà during his long years of service there as a violin teacher and leader of the orchestra (the Pietà was an orphanage for girls which, like three other similar institutions in Venice, also served as a musical academy). Vivaldi must have had a talented bassoon-player among his colleagues or their pupils to have endowed this instrument so richly. The autograph score of the Concerto in B flat (RV 502) carries a superscription (later deleted) designating the work for a certain Giuseppe Biancardi, who is known to have been a member of the Venetian instrumentalists' guild. Another concerto (RV 496) bears the name of Count Morzin, the patron to whom Vivaldi dedicated his Op. 8. The two-keyed bassoon for which Vivaldi wrote these works was substantially the same as the modern instrument, save that its lowest note was C instead of B flat. His treatment of the instrument - now broad and lyrical, now perkily virtuosic with wide leaps and rapid scale passages - owes much to the style of his writing for solo cello, rather as his solo parts for flute, recorder, and oboe constantly recall the violin. Nevertheless, Vivaldi was alert to the special needs of his wind-players (such as frequent opportunities to draw breath) and skilfully turned them to musical advantage, as in the “stutters” during the second movement of RV 498. Almost as a matter of course Vivaldi directs his soloists to play together with the corresponding orchestral part during tutti sections, which means that the bassoon doubles the cellos. There was a sound practical reason for this: one could ill afford to dispense with the services of the ablest players during the most weighty passages! Another almost universal practice was the lightening of the texture during solo episodes. At its most economical the accompaniment would consist of cello and continuo alone or (a Vivaldian speciality) a single line on upper strings - unison violins, sometimes reinforced by violas. When the solo instrument - bassoon or cello - lies in a low register the solo instrument - bassoon or cello - lies in a low register one often has the curious experience of hearing what is recognisably a bass line above an obvious melody line! On other occasions the accompaniment may consist of several strands and command interest in its own right, either through its interplay with the soloist or its recall of material from the tutti sections. Walter Kolneder observes that the motivic interest of the accompaniment is particularly marked in the woodwind concertos and suggests that the contrast between wind and string timbre encouraged the composer to write elaborate accompaniments without fear of swamping the principal instrument. Since the same feature is found in the cello concertos, however, perhaps it would be equally correct in the case of the bassoon to explain it by the contrast of register. The form of the fast outer movements conforms to the usual Vivaldian pattern. A lengthy ritornello consisting of a number of complementary thematic ideas opens the movement. It is restated, often in abridged or modified form, three or four times. The last statement is naturally in the home key, while intermediate statements are normally in different keys. Solo episodes intervening between the ritornellos effect the necessary modulations. To allow the soloist the chance of repeating his opening “motto” (often a paraphrase of a ritornello idea) in its original key at the head of the final episode, the ritornello coming immediately before is often given out in the home key or diverted to it in mid-course. The final episode frequently ends with a brief quasi-cadenza over a pedal point. A simplified version of this logical and flexible plan is commonly employed in the slow movements. Sometimes all that remains of a ritornello is a short introduction-cum-conclusion, as in RV 502. The slow movement of RV 489 even dispenses with this, becoming almost indistinguishable from a sonata movement. In these bassoon concertos, which must be products of his full maturity, Vivaldi sometimes approaches the new galant idiom of Galuppi and Pergolesi; one may instance the ritornellos in RV 489. But many features remain uniquely Vivaldian, such as the rocking syncopations in the first movement of RV 502 and the stark unisons in the slow movement of RV 484. In the final analysis, the most original quality of this music is its utter spontaneity - its ability to lead the listener along unexpected paths at the risk of occasionally disappointing him, but more often revealing some rare delight. Michael Talbot