Wednesday 8 December 2010 7.30pm Barbican Hall Cecilia Bartoli sings Handel Cecilia Bartoli mezzo-soprano Franco Fagioli countertenor Basel Chamber Orchestra Uli Weber/Decca Julia Schröder leader tonight’s programme George Frideric Handel (1685–1759) Rinaldo, HWV7 (1711) – Overture; Furie terribili!; Dunque i lacci … Ah! crudel George Frideric Handel Lotario, HWV26 (1729) – Scherza in mar Francesco Maria Veracini (1690–1768) Ouverture No. 6 in G minor ( 1716) – Allegro George Frideric Handel Alcina, HWV34 (1735) – Ah! mio cor! George Frideric Handel Giulio Cesare in Egitto, HWV17 (1724) – excerpts (with Franco Fagioli countertenor): Ouverture Va tacito e nascosto Sinfonia ‘Il Parnasso’ V’adoro, pupille Al lampo dell’armi Che sento? o dio! … Se pietà Dall’ondoso periglio … Aure, deh, per pietà Da tempeste Caro!/Bella! … Più amabile beltà Nicola Porpora (1686–1768) Il Gedeone (1737) – Overture; Perdono, amata Nice (1746) – Overture George Frideric Handel Teseo, HWV9 (1713) – Ah, che sol per Teseo … M’adora l’idol mio George Frideric Handel Amadigi di Gaula, HWV11 (1715) – Mi deride … Desterò dall’empia Dite INTERVAL Porpora items edited by Martin Heimgartner programme note George Frideric Handel: a composer without rival The composers who came after Handel thought him to be without rival as a musician. Mozart made his own performing edition of Messiah, declaring, it is said, ‘Handel understands effect better than any of us. When he chooses, he strikes like a thunderbolt.’ Haydn’s choral masterpiece The Creation bends a knee to Handel’s majestic oratorio and the younger composer’s String Quartet in F minor, Op. 20 No. 5, builds the chorus ‘And with his stripes’ from the work into its fugue finale. For Beethoven, Handel was quite simply ‘the greatest composer that ever lived. I would uncover my head and kneel before his tomb’; and he so admired Messiah that he wrote it out in order that he might get a ‘feeling for its intricacies’ and ‘unravel its complexities’. The English, as is perhaps their wont, celebrated Handel’s greatness when he was gone, by interring his mortal remains in that national necropolis, Westminster Abbey, thus conferring an honorary English status on a German composer who had dominated the London music scene for so much of the first half of the 18th century and made Italian opera a cultural cynosure in the capital before turning oratorio into an English institution. Then there was the Handel ‘Commemoration’ of 1784, organised by the Earl of Sandwich in the Abbey to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the composer’s death. The festival may have set a fashion for large-scale performances of Handel’s works that would culminate in elephantine Victorian performances in the Crystal Palace, with casts of thousands, but in the late 18th century it seems to have become a way of appropriating the composer for cultural and political purposes. A case, perhaps, of ‘nice traditional Handel’ for the aristocracy rather than nasty modern composers who were ingratiating themselves with the rising bourgeoisie in London’s Hanover Square Rooms. The reality is more complicated than that, of course, but the fact remains that by the end of the 18th century Handel had become as British as John Bull and roast beef! And within seven years that archmodernist Haydn would be the star attraction at the West End’s most desirable concert hall, with symphonies newly minted for England. Yet even Handel had his rivals in the 18th century, and nowhere more so than in the opera house in his London glory days – the two decades that ended when the composer retired from the stage in 1741 to devote himself to writing oratorios. Not that these were always glory days at the bank: it is a mark of this composer’s greatness that, while beset by financial and administrative difficulties and caught up in the maelstrom of London’s cultural politics, Handel continued to produce an almost unbroken stream of masterworks. Handel’s rivals fed a newly acquired English appetite for Italian opera and, in particular, the art and the vanity of those stars of the 18th-century operatic stage, the castrati. The Neapolitan composer Nicola Porpora was one such ‘rival’. He had taught both Farinelli – one of the most 3 programme note glittering of the castrati – and his rival Caffarelli. In 1729 an aristocratic clique who had taken against Handel and his company invited Porpora to London. But success eluded the so-called Opera of the Nobility and despite the presence of Farinelli the 1734/5 season was a disaster, with the company who performed in the Lincoln’s Inn Fields theatre filing for bankruptcy. Porpora composed cantatas as well as operas and oratorios and dedicated a set of 12 for solo voice and continuo in 1735 to Frederick, Prince of Wales, who was an accomplished viol player. Porpora reserves his most artful musical thoughts for his singers (as might be expected of a great singing teacher) but there are merits in his orchestral music too, such as the overtures to two of his later cantatas, Il Gedeone (1737) and Perdono, amata Nice (1746), written after the composer had returned to the Continent. What they lack in drama is more than compensated for by Porpora’s gifts for colourful instrumentation, even if it’s music that sometimes seems to be waiting for the human voice! Francesco Maria Veracini first visited London in 1714, four years after Handel had come to England. One of the most celebrated violinists of his generation, he was hired by the Queen’s Theatre to play between acts of operas. Nearly 20 years later, Veracini was back in the English capital, lured – like Porpora – by the Opera of the Nobility to take on Handel. While orchestral concerts had earned him his 4 livelihood, he was unable to resist the challenge to write opera, and among other projects turned Shakespeare’s As You Like It into Rosalinda and set Metastasio’s libretto La clemenza di Tito, which Caterino Mazzolà would adapt for Mozart in 1791. Like Porpora, Veracini also wrote cantatas, although no less a savant than Dr Burney observed that the music he composed for his L’errore di Salomone was ‘wild, awkward and unpleasant; manifestly produced by a man unaccustomed to write for the voice’. The composer’s Sixth Ouverture, though, is mercifully free of voices! It is the last of a set written in the French style in 1716: symphonies in all but name. This is perhaps the finest of the six, with a striking opening Allegro, replete with swooping triplet arpeggios. The woodwind writing demands particular virtuosity. But, for all their skills, Handel had little to fear from his rivals – at least those who were set up as such. From Teseo, composed for the Queen’s Theatre in 1713, to Alcina, written for Covent Garden 22 years later, the composer demonstrated a rare and consistent mastery of the form of opera. And if his sense of dramma per musica was exemplary, so too was his musical imagination: he was always in search of new orchestral colour, constantly embroidering upon what he had done previously and never in doubt about the expressive potential of the human voice. In this respect, the solo aria stands at the summit of Handel’s programme note achievement in the theatre. To experience a programme of arias such as tonight’s is every bit as wickedly pleasurable as eating expensive chocolates in bed! To remove a Baroque aria from its recitative would be to tear it from its dramatic context. But on its own it does represent a moment of repose within an opera, a time when the action is paused and a character can take stock of his or her situation. The rules are simple. The aria is usually in three sections (ternary form), setting two verses of poetry. The opening section is self-contained musically, and properly should end in the tonic key. There is no reason why this first part should not be sung on its own. Then comes a second section, which contrasts with the first in key and mood and sometimes tempo too. Then comes the final da capo section (which literally translates as ‘from the head’), in which the performer returns to the first section, but this time ornamenting the line. This is where the singer’s skills come in to play. The greater the singer, the more spectacular or emotionally affecting these decorations become. A case in point is ‘Ah, che sol per Teseo … M’adora l’idol mio’, Agilea’s recitative and aria from Teseo. Agilea loves Teseo, who has returned to Athens disguising his true identity to fight for his father Egeo. (Teseo is of course Theseus, who abandoned Ariadne on Naxos, having been helped to slay the Cretan Minotaur.) Teseo wins the battle and Egeo announces that he has decided to marry Agilea, who then sings of her hopeless love for the hero. Handel’s aria runs the gamut of emotions – from despair to proud disdain – and where the heart leads, the vocal line follows in ever more dizzying displays. Teseo is Handel’s only five-act opera and it was written for the Queen’s Theatre in London and given its first performance in 1713. The composer was experimenting: there’s a hint of the French as well as the Italian tradition, particularly in the way that the opera – for all its rather baggy plotting – rarely shows the seams between recitative and aria. In Amadigi di Gaula, first performed at the King’s Theatre in 1715, Handel continues to experiment, once again borrowing freely from France and Italy to adorn a plot that is literally full of the kind of magic and spectacle and courtly chivalry that seems to have held a particular appeal for London audiences. Melissa is a sorceress determined to use her black arts to win the hero Amadigi. At the end of Act 2 she is thwarted by her rival Oriana and her desire for revenge knows few vocal limits. But her recitative and aria ‘Mi deride … Desterò dall’empia Dite’ is far more than just an opportunity for dazzling singing, crammed full as it is with all-too-human feeling, complete with virtuoso solos for trumpet and oboe. As Jonathan Keates argues in Handel – The Man and his Music, ‘Amadigi provides an excellent illustration of the ideal functioning of the Baroque recitative- 5 programme note and-aria form in the hands of a master … can it still be said that nothing happens in a Handel aria? So far from invalidating the form, its very artifice helps to convey the atmosphere of those moments when civilised human beings are driven out of their emotional reserve.’ opera. Nonetheless, ‘Dunque i lacci d’un volto … Ah! crudel’, sung by the sorceress Armida after the crusader Rinaldo has rejected her, moves from troubled strings in the recitative to a duet for oboe and bassoon in the opening section of the aria with the kind of originality and musical assurance that are the hallmarks of a great Handel aria. Then come the raging runs It was Rinaldo that made Handel’s reputation as an opera as Armida cries for revenge, invoking her Furies to devise composer in London. First performed at the Queen’s Theatre new and even more terrible punishments for Rinaldo, whose in February 1711, this tale of Christians against Saracens only crime against humanity is to love another, rather simpler, during the First Crusade was probably reworked by Handel woman. We’ve already met Armida’s Furies at the start of the and his librettist as the contemporary story of the Duke of opera, in her opening aria ‘Furie terribili!’. And what a vocal Marlborough’s Protestant armies crusading against the calling card. Cascading runs and demonic decorations make Catholic ‘infidels’ at a time when England was contemplating it abundantly clear that this is the bad girl of the opera. peace with France. Whatever the politics of the piece, the Thrilling but dangerous as she promises to help defeat the singers – who included two of the most admired castrati of crusaders. the era, Nicolo Grimaldi and Valentino Urbani – thrilled the Even Handel, though, had off days. Lotario, written to first-night audience. The special effects were pretty special launch a new Italian opera company at the King’s Theatre too. The Spectator couldn’t resist teasing the show. ‘The opera of Rinaldo’, the magazine announced, ‘is filled with in December1729, cannot be counted one of his most Thunder and Lightning, Illuminations and Fireworks; which successful works, with a lumbering plot that trundles down the audience may look upon without catching cold, and a well-trodden operatic path, complete with terrible tyrants indeed without much Danger of being burnt; for there are and fair maidens in distress. Set in Italy at the time of the several engines filled with water, and ready to play at a Lombard invasions, it’s the devil or rather the villains, Minute’s warning, in case any such accident should happen.’ Berengario and Matilda, who get the best tunes as they try to marry off their son to Adelaide, the widowed Queen of Italy. It is said that Handel composed Rinaldo in just two weeks. Nevertheless Adelaide is given her moment in the vocal sun, Though he was always a fast worker it undoubtedly helped with the aria that ends Act 1, ‘Scherza in mar’, in which she that he recycled material from earlier works for the new refuses to surrender to the schemers. 6 programme note Alcina, written for Covent Garden in 1735, is, on the other hand, a complete triumph – a feast for the eye, a vocal banquet or food for thought, depending on your mood and inclination. Beyond the artifice of the piece, the wonder of Alcina’s enchantments on her magic island, the clash between Charlemagne’s knights and Islam, there is the simple story of a sorceress whose power is undone by human love. The fact that she is also an artist might suggest that Handel is musing here on the price that artists pay for their art. And all of this is there in the arias he writes for Alcina herself. ‘Ah! mio cor’ from Act 2 of the opera finds the sorceress distraught that her captive Ruggiero, whom she longs for, has escaped. As Alcina’s powers begin to fade, Handel has the orchestral accompaniment appear to dissolve before our very ears. With its extended legato and drops through the register this is an aria that demands a special kind of vocal magic from the singer who would be Handel’s sorceress. The composer was at the height of his powers when he wrote Giulio Cesare in Egitto. Its champions would argue that this is not only Handel’s greatest achievement as an opera composer but conceivably the most satisfying of all Baroque opera seria. It was hugely successful at its first performances for the Royal Academy of Music at the King’s Theatre in London in 1724, and for many in the audience that success must have been earned in large measure by the star singers who took the principal roles of Caesar and Cleopatra, the castrato Senesino and the celebrated soprano Francesca Cuzzoni. Giulio Cesare became one of the most admired and most frequently performed Italian operas of the period, with revivals in London in 1725, 1730 and 1732, as well as performances in Paris, Hamburg and Brunswick. History as it really happened takes something of a back seat in Nicola Haym’s libretto, brewed as it is from Plutarch, Corneille and an original Venetian libretto. Above all, this is Roman history with a distinctly Baroque message, that when it comes to the conflict between love and duty, the good ruler has no choice but to lay aside his personal happiness in the best interests of serving his people. Here was a text much preached in the period, but rarely followed: Baroque vice was nice, Roman virtue rather chilly! What makes Handel’s opera so effective is that in the end Caesar gets his cake and succeeds in eating it too, when Cleopatra is crowned Queen of Egypt after her brother Ptolemy’s death and declares herself a ‘tributary queen to the Emperor of Rome’. Men and Emperors rule. What also makes Cleopatra such a winning heroine, and indeed the opera so original, is the way in which Handel and his librettist blend the serious with the comic. Theirs is a Cleopatra who really could ‘Hop 40 paces through the public street’, as Shakespeare had it. Playful, funny, teasing and an unscrupulous operator. If Caesar is properly noble, he does seem to unbend in the Egyptian queen’s presence. 7 programme note And his seduction by Cleopatra disguised as Lydia is tinged with a languorous eroticism. You can feel the old serpent of the Nile rising in the music! Let no one say that Handel knew nothing of sexual feelings. Cecilia Bartoli takes the part of the Egyptian ‘serpent’ and her noble Roman tonight is the countertenor Franco Fagioli. So he is is Caesar near the end of Act 1 in ‘Va tacito e nascosto’, alone and reflecting on Tolomeo’s murder of his old rival Pompey, whose head has been delivered to the Roman general as evidence of the Egyptian’s loyalty. The wise hunter is the hunter who hunts on his own, Caesar muses. Egyptian politics are a jungle, with the siblings Tolomeo and Cleopatra – joint sovereigns – fighting for power. And fighting for Caesar’s favours too. Then in Act 2, after a suitably grave orchestral sinfonia (Handel’s orchestration is sumptuous throughout the opera, and his instrumentation highly original), we find a seductive Cleopatra in ‘V’adoro, pupille’, appearing as Virtue with the nine Muses for her attendants in a scene that perhaps owes as much to a Soho burlesque at The Windmill as it does to ancient Parnassus. ‘Al lampo dell’armi’ finds Caesar flexing his military muscles when the Egyptians stage an uprising against the Romans. He is determined to disregard Cleopatra’s advice to cut and run, while she, left on her own with her protector at risk, implores the gods to aid them in ‘Che sento? o dio! … Se pietà’. At the start of Act 3 Tolomeo defeats his sister and takes her prisoner. Caesar has survived an attempted drowning and in ‘Dall’ondoso periglio … Aure, deh per pietà’, alone at the water’s edge in Alexandria harbour, he considers his options. All is about to come out right, though. Caesar is rescued by his fellow Romans and hurries off, together with Pompey’s widow Cornelia, whose husband’s death he has promised to avenge, to save Cleopatra from Tolomeo’s clutches. In ‘Da tempeste’ Cleopatra rejoices at the way the tables have been turned on her hated brother, who is soon dispatched by Pompey’s son Sextus. All is ready for Caesar to crown Cleopatra Queen in ‘Caro! … Bella! … Più amabile beltà’ and the curtain can fall on Handel’s Roman masterpiece. And as you leave the hall, you can only wonder at how well Handel understands his characters in the arias that he writes for them, how expressivity is just as important as musicality in these solos, yet how the music tells just as much of their story as the words. Possibly it was the smartest move this unrivalled composer ever made, coming to London and writing Italian operas for an audience who for the most part didn't speak or understand Italian. A genuine case of ‘Prima la musica e poi le parole’. Programme note © Christopher Cook 8 text and translation Rinaldo – Furie terribili Furie terribili! Circondatemi, Sequidatemi Con faci orribili! Fearful furies, encircle me, trail flames of terror behind me. Rinaldo – Dunque i lacci … Ah, crudele Dunque i lacci d’un volto, Tante gioie promesse, Li spaventi d’inferno, Forza n’avran per arrestar quel crudo? E tu il segui, o mio core! Fatto trofeo d’un infelice amore! No! si svegli ’l furore, Si raggiunga l’ingrato, Cada a’ miei piè svenato! Ohimè! Che fia? Uccier l’alma mia? Ah! Debole mio petto, A un traditor anco puoi dar ricetto? Su, su, furie, ritrovate Nova sorte di pena e di flagello; S’uccida, sì… ah!, ch’è troppo bello! So are the snare of a face, the promise of so much joy, and the terrors of hell not strong enough to hold that cruel man? My heart, you go with him! You are the trophy of an unhappy love! No: let my anger arise, and find the ungrateful man, let him fall lifeless at my feet. Alas! How can it be? Can I kill the man I love? Ah, my feeble heart, can you shelter a traitor still? Arise, furies, and discover new types of pain and punishment; let him die. Ah, no, for he is too handsome. Ah! crudel, Il pianto mio Deh! Ti mova per pietà! O infedel, Al mio desio Proverai la crudeltà. Ah, cruel man, for pity’s sake, be moved by my tears. Or you will feel my cruelty for having spurned my desire. Ah! crudel, etc. Ah, cruel man, etc. Translation by Kenneth Chalmers, reproduced with kind permission from Decca. Lotario – Scherza in mar Scherza in mar la navicella Mentre ride aura seconda: Ma se poi fiera procella Turba il Ciel, sconvolge l’onda, Va perduta a naufragar. The little boat plays upon the ocean while a favourable breeze blows: but if a fierce tempest then darkens the sky and whips up the waves, it is doomed to founder. 9 text and translation Non così questo mio core Cederà d’un empia sorte Allo sdegno ed al furore, Che per anco in faccia a morte Sa da grande trionfar. This heart of mine will not yield likewise to the scorn and fury of malevolent fate, for though faced with death it will emerge triumphant. Scherza in mar, etc. The little boat plays, etc. Translation by Susannah Howe Alcina – Ah! mio cor! Ah! mio cor! schernito sei! Stelle! Dei! Nume d’amore! Traditore! T’amo tanto; Puoi lasciarmi sola in pianto, Oh Dei! Perchè? Oh, my heart, you are scorned! Oh, you stars! Oh, ye gods! Deity of love! Betrayer! I love you so; how can you leave me alone, in tears? Oh gods! Why? Ma, che fa gemendo Alcina? Son reina, è tempo ancora: Resti o mora, Peni sempre, o torni a me. But what is Alcina doing, complaining? I am queen, and there is yet time: he shall stay or die, suffer eternally, or return to me. Ah! mio cor! schernito sei, etc. Oh, my heart, you are scorned, etc. Based on a translation by Peggy Cochrane, reproduced with kind permission from Deutsche Grammophon. Teseo – Ah, che sol per Teseo … M’adora l’idol mio Ah, che sol per Teseo arde quest’alma; Del Talamo Real, non cura il petto, E non sente altro ardore, Ch’il primo che fu acceso entro del core. Scaccerò dal mio seno, ogn’altro affetto; Ed avrà del mio amor solo la palma Teseo, l’amato bene; E dolci anche per lui saran le pene. Ah, my soul yearns for Theseus alone; my heart cares naught for the royal bed, and feels no other passion than the first love that set it ablaze. I shall drive from my breast all other affections; only my dearest, my Theseus will bear the palm of my love, and sweet will he find its torments. M’adora l’idol mio Gode il mio core Fedel gli sono anch’io; Vivo contenta. My beloved adores me, my heart rejoices, and I am faithful to him; I live in happiness. 10 text and translation Né vuò che de’ miei danni E dei sofferti affanni Il cor si penta. Nor would I have my heart regret my sorrows or the suffering I have endured. M’adora l’idol mio, etc. My beloved adores me, etc. Translation by Susannah Howe Amadigi di Gaula – Mi deride … Desterò dall’empia Dite Mi deride l’amante, la rivale mi sprezza, Ed io soffro, oh stelle. No, non sarà giammai ch’io perda il mio vigor Fra pene e guai. My lover mocks me, my rival scorns me: will I suffer this, O stars? No, it can never come to pass that I lose my strength to grief and woe. Desterò dall’empia Dite Ogni furia a farvi guerra, Crudi, perfidi, sì, sì! I will raise every fury from vilest hell to wage war on you, cruel traitors, yes, yes! Ombre tetre, omai sortite Dall’avello che vi serra, A dar pene A colui che mi schernì! Ye dark shades, emerge now from the tombs that enclose you, to torment the man who has scorned me, Desterò dall’empia Dite, etc. I will raise every fury, etc. Translation by Charles Johnston, reproduced with kind permission from Ambroisie. INTERVAL Giulio Cesare in Egitto – excerpts Va tacito e nascosto Va tacito e nascosto, Quand’avido è di preda, L’astuto cacciator. E chi è a mal far disposto, Non brama che si veda L’inganno del suo cor. Silently and stealthily the cunning hunter moves when he is eager for prey. And he who is disposed to evil does not wish the deceitfulness of his heart to be seen. Va tacito, etc. Silently, etc. 11 text and translation V’adoro, pupille V’adoro, pupille, Saette d’amore, Le vostre faville Son grate nel sen. Pietose vi brama Il mesto mio core, Che ogn’ora vi chiama L’amato suo ben. I adore you, oh eyes, the darts of love, your sparks sweetly pierce my breast. My mournful heart beseeches your pity, since it ceaselessly calls you its dearly beloved. Al lampo dell’armi Al lampo dell’armi Quest’alma guerriera Vendetta farà. Non fia che disarmi La destra guerriera Chi forza le dà. In the shimmering of arms this my warring soul will take revenge. Let not that which gives this warrior’s hand strength now disarm it. Al lampo, etc. In the shimmering, etc. Che sento? o dio! … Se pietà Che sento? o dio! Morrà Cleopatra ancora. Anima vil, che parli mai? Deh, taci! Avrò, per vendicarmi In bellicosa parte, Di Bellona in sembianza un cor di Marte. Intanto, o numi, voi, che il ciel reggete, Difendete il mio bene, Ch’egli è del seno mio conforto e speme. What do I hear, oh gods! Cleopatra will die too. Abject soul, what are you saying? Ah, be silent! To avenge myself in warlike combat I shall have the countenance of Bellona, the heart of Mars. Meanwhile, oh gods, you who rule the heavens, protect my beloved! For he is the comfort and the hope of my heart. Se pietà di me non senti, Giusto ciel, io morirò. Tu da’ pace a’ miei tormenti, O quest’alma spirerò. If you feel no pity for me, just heaven, I shall die. Grant relief to my torments, or this soul will expire. Se pietà, etc. If you feel, etc. Dall’ondoso periglio … Aure, deh, per pietà Dall’ondoso periglio Salvo mi porta al lido Il mio propizio fato. Qui la celeste Parca Non tronca ancor lo stame alla mia vita! Ma dove andrò? E chi mi porge aita? Saving me from the perilous depths, my propitious destiny bore me to the shore. Here celestial Fate has not yet cut the thread of my life! But where shall I go? And who will bring me help? 12 text and translation Ove son le mie schiere? Ove son le legioni, Che a tante mie vittorie il varco apriro? Solo in quest’erme arene Al monarca del mondo errar conviene? Where are my troops? Where are the legions that paved my way to so many victories? Does it befit the ruler of the world to roam alone upon these desert sands? Aure, deh, per pietà Spirate al petto mio, Per dar conforto, oh Dio! Al mio dolor. Dite, dov’è, che fa L’idolo del mio sen, L’amato e dolce ben Di questo cor. Ah, you breezes, pray fill my breast and bring comfort, o gods! to my woe. Tell me, tell me where the idol of my heart, the beloved and sweet treasure of my life is now and what she is doing. Ma d’ogni intorno i’ veggio Sparse d’arme e d’estinti L’infortunate arene: Segno d’infausto annunzio alfin sarà. But everywhere I see the dismal sands bestrewn with arms and corpses. This must be the inauspicious sign of disaster. Aure, deh, etc. Ah, you, etc. Da tempeste Da tempeste il legno infranto, Se poi salvo giunge in porto, Non sa più che desiar. Così il cor tra pene e pianto, Or che trova il suo conforto, Torna l’anima a bear. When the ship, broken by the storms, succeeds at last in making it to port, it no longer knows what it desires. Thus the heart, after torments and woes, once it has recovered its solace, is beside itself with bliss. Da tempeste, etc. When the ship, etc. Caro!/Bella! … Più amabile beltà Caro! più amabile beltà/Bella! più amabile beltà Mai non si troverà Del tuo bel volto. In me non splenderà,/In te non splenderà, Né amor né fedeltà, Disciolto da te./Disciolto da me. My love! a more amiable beauty/My fair one! a more amiable beauty will never be found than your fair face. In me nothing shines,/In you nothing shines, neither love, nor fidelity, apart from you./Apart from me. Caro, etc. My love, etc. Translation by James O. Wootton, reproduced with kind permission from Harmonia Mundi. 13 about the performers Uli Weber/Decca About the performers Cecilia Bartoli mezzo-soprano For more than two decades Cecilia Bartoli has been a leading classical artist, via performances in opera houses and concert halls around the world and through her best-selling and critically acclaimed recordings, which in recent years have centred around the rediscovery of neglected repertoire. Herbert von Karajan, Daniel Barenboim and Nikolaus Harnoncourt were among the first conductors with whom Cecilia Bartoli worked. Since then, she has developed regular partnerships with renowned conductors, pianists and orchestras, 14 most recently period-instrument ensembles including the Les Arts Florissants, Concentus Musicus Wien, Il Giardino Armonico, Basel Chamber Orchestra, Les Musiciens du Louvre, Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and Orchestra La Scintilla. Increasingly, she is involved with orchestral projects for which she assumes overall artistic responsibility, including recent programmes with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. Cecilia Bartoli’s stage appearances include the Metropolitan Opera, New York, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, La Scala, Milan, Bavarian State Opera and the Zurich Opera House. Most recently, her roles have included Handel’s Cleopatra and Semele, Rossini’s Cenerentola and Halévy’s Clari. Recently, she focused on the 19th century, the era of Italian Romanticism and bel canto, and in particular the legendary singer Maria Malibran. Her Malibran album, Maria, received two Grammy nominations. In June she made her role-debut in Norma, in historically informed concert performances in Dortmund conducted by Thomas Hengelbrock. However, most of 2009/10 was dedicated to 18th-century Naples and its castrato stars, a programme she performed at the Barbican a year ago, also releasing an accompanying album and DVD, Sacrificium. Other highlights have included Giulio Cesare with William Christie at the Salle Pleyel in Paris. Among Cecilia Bartoli’s many awards are an Italian knighthood and the Italian Bellini d’Oro prize. She is an Honorary Member of the Royal Academy of Music and was recently given an honorary doctorate by University College, Dublin. She is an exclusive artist of the Decca Music Group. From 2012 onwards, Cecilia Bartoli will be Artistic Director of the Salzburg Whitsun Festival. about the performers Marco Borggreve He gave his first solo recital in Europe last year at the Staatsoper Stuttgart, which was enthusiastically received. Other highlights of last season include Ainadamar by Osvaldo Golijov at the Teatro Argentino in La Plata, the titleroles in Ariodante and Cavalli’s Giasone and Bertarido (Rodelinda). Franco Fagioli countertenor Franco Fagioli was born in Argentina in 1981 and first came to international attention when he won the 2003 Bertelsmann Foundation singing competition in Germany. He went on to perform at the Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires, Bonn Opera, Essen Opera, Zurich Opera, the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris and at the Innsbruck and Ludwigsburg festivals and the Handel festivals in Halle and Karlsruhe. Highlights this season include the role of Nerone (The Coronation of Poppea) for Cologne Opera and at the Staatsoper Dresden. Conductors with whom he has collaborated include Rinaldo Alessandrini, Alan Curtis, Diego Fasolis, Gabriel Garrido, Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Michael Hofstetter, René Jacobs, Konrad Junghänel, José Manuel Quintana, Marc Minkowski, Riccardo Muti and Christophe Rousset. Franco Fagioli’s discography includes Gluck’s Ezio, and Handel’s Teseo and Berenice. His first solo CD was released last month. Basel Chamber Orchestra Founded in 1984 by graduates of various Swiss conservatoires, the Basel Chamber Orchestra now ranks among Europe’s leading chamber orchestras. It is committed to the chamber orchestra tradition created by Paul Sacher; central to this is music-making of the very highest standard and the development of a repertoire that combines music both ancient and modern. The orchestra gives between 60 and 90 concerts a year, most of them in Europe and Switzerland, its own concert series in Basel being an important part of its calendar. It also appears at major concert halls in London, Amsterdam, Cologne, Berlin, Zurich, Munich, Vienna, Valencia and Paris. The Basel Chamber Orchestra was recently awarded the Ernst von 15 about the performers Basel Chamber Orchestra Siemens Musikstiftung (2006) and the first prize by Junge Ohren (‘Young Ears’) for its project designed to introduce young people to music. In 2008 it also received an ECHOKlassik prize for its recording of Beethoven’s Third and Fourth Symphonies under Giovanni Antonini. As well as Antonini, the orchestra regularly works with the conductors Paul Goodwin, Kristjan Järvi, Paul McCreesh and David Stern, and has also appeared with Renaud Capuçon, Julia Fischer, Matthias Goerne, Philippe Herreweghe, Daniel Hope, Emma Kirkby, Angelika Kirchschlager, Jennifer Larmore, Bobby McFerrin, Sabine Meyer, Emmanuel Pahud, Christian Tetzlaff, Pieter Wispelwey, Thomas Zehetmair and Tabea Zimmermann. It has developed its profile as a Baroque ensemble through a number of highly acclaimed tours, with artists such as Cecilia Bartoli, Giuliano Carmignola, David Daniels, Magdalena Kožená and Andreas Scholl, and through its recordings. These include Handel’s opera Riccardo primo and Concerti grossi, Op. 3, and discs with Angelika Kirchschlager, Marijana Mijanović, Nuria Rial and Lawrence Zazzo, and its ongoing Beethoven symphony cycle. Credit Suisse has been the main sponsor and partner of Basel Chamber Orchestra since 2007. Programme produced by Harriet Smith; printed by Aldridge Print Group; advertising by Cabbell (tel. 020 8971 8450) Please make sure that all digital watch alarms and mobile phones are switched off during the performance. In accordance with the requirements of the licensing authority, sitting or standing in any gangway is not permitted. Smoking is not permitted anywhere on the Barbican premises. No eating or drinking is allowed in the auditorium. No cameras, tape recorders or any other recording equipment may be taken into the hall. If anything limits your enjoyment please let us know during your visit. Additional feedback can be given online, as well as via feedback forms or pods around the centre foyers. Confectionery and merchandise including September Organic ice cream, quality chocolate, nuts and nibbles are available from sales points situated in the foyers. 16 Violin I Julia Schröder Matthias Müller Regine Schröder Elisabeth Kohler Regula Keller Noëlle-Anne Darbellay Double Bass Stefan Preyer Violin II Yukiko Tezuka Valentina Giusti Daniela Fischer Nina Candik Heinrich Kubitschek Horn Glen Borling Viola Bodo Friedrich Mariana Doughty Oboe Kerstin Kramp Astrid Koechlein Bassoon Yves Bertin Trumpet Simon Lilly Harpsichord Riccardo Doni Theorbo Rosario Conte Anna Pfister Cello Christoph Dangel Hristo Kouzmanov Georg Dettweiler Barbican Centre Silk Street, London EC2Y 8DS Administration 020 7638 4141 Box Office 020 7638 8891 Great Performers Last-Minute Concert Information Hotline 0845 120 7505 www.barbican.org.uk
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