Libretto languages: Italian, English, French, German, Latin
Time: 124:09
Release Date: 2006
Review
This ambitious German release takes an unusual cross section of music from the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, which is conventionally divided up by composer, country, genre, or patron. Here the Ensemble Daedalus and its director Roberto Festa instead examine a single affect, melancholy, as it manifested itself in various places and contexts. Their findings are buttressed by a real intellectual heavyweight of a booklet, with several essays ranging from Aristotle through the medieval theory of the bodily humors up to Marsilio Ficino and Erasmus, and even beyond, touching in a detour on Renaissance conceptions of madness. The groupings of music made here are nevertheless likely to be controversial ones, but for the listener, especially one who is already in a melancholy mood, they're very exciting. There are two CDs in the package, one devoted entirely to instrumental music and the other vocal, accompanied in some cases by viols and occasionally by lute and/or recorder. The second disc contains madrigals from various places and times, with a version by Luis de Narvez of the canonical text in this discourse, Josquin's Mille regretz. All the music has that dolorous general mood, which might not be the thing for a peppy garden party but is likely to make a strong cumulative impact under the influence of intoxicants at three o'clock in the morning. The playing and singing are superb, flawlessly intoned, and smooth in the instrumental pieces, emotionally involved without going over the top.
The first CD is more problematical. It opens with the Dowland tune known variously as Lachrimae or Seven Teares, reworked into seven different versions -- to use Dowland's words, "figured in seaven passionate pauans, set for the Lute, Viols, or Violons by John Dowland," and introduced as a long meditation on melancholy. Many recordings contain one or two of these pieces; to hear all seven in a row is quite intense. The questionable move comes next; Festa introduces pieces written in the so-called Stile Fantastico, although he concedes that "we cannot maintain with certainty that the Stile Fantastico is derived from the musical grammar of the madrigal." Certainly works like the Consonante stravaganze of Giovanni Trabaci are related to the idea of melancholy, but there is also an aspect of intellectual play to them -- hinted at in the title of Francesco Soriano Romano's Il soprano scherzo col cromatico -- that is coming from somewhere else. A Gesualdo madrigal on the second disc might have tied the program together a bit more tightly -- but then, melancholy is not quite the word for Gesualdo, either. All of which goes to show the simultaneous slipperiness and fascination of the concepts involved on a disc that should probably be on any shelf of Renaissance music, if only for its sheer adventurousness. ~ James Manheim, Rovi