Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, and Something Blue
Program Notes by Jennifer Carpenter

Playing something old is not new for an early music ensemble! Whereas the majority of the music on today’s program would be considered “old” by modern-day musical standards, the dialog, the form, and the technique were quite new once upon a time. We hope to showcase what is new in the old, what is old in the new, how borrowing was a form of flattery and necessity, and how the indigo trade of the 18th century colored some wonderfully creative music. What we’ll discover is that a number of these pieces fit more than one category (old, new, borrowed, blue), and it is in these intersections that the depth of the music and the breadth of the composers’ influence can be admired.

Old and New

The Sonata á 2 per Violino e Violone by Giovanni Paolo Cima (c.1570-1630) is the oldest piece on today’s program. This sonata appears in Cima’s publication Concerti ecclesiastici (Milan, 1610), a collection of compositions that includes sacred music, which looks toward the past, and six instrumental sonatas that are quite novel. For the first time, we see a composer prescribe the instrumentation rather than the parts being designated “treble” and “bass” as was popular in the 16th and early 17th centuries. The collection also includes one of the first trio sonatas - a genre that is very dear to Parish House Baroque! This particular sonata highlights Cima’s mastery of motivic development, where short ideas are presented and elaborated upon in a manner that is idiomatic for instruments (rather than the voice). The violin and the cello are in dialog, with each instrument introducing new melodic ideas, as opposed to a simple echo.

As an early music ensemble, we can have a unique perspective on contemporary compositions and our selected pieces each represent a different version of “new.” There are present-day composers who look back to the Baroque and create historically informed works. There are also present-day composers who are writing contemporary music, using a more modern tonal and melodic language - expanded harmonies, extended techniques, modern societal influences - but for period instruments. And then there are old works that shepherded in a new genre or style of composition. Each can be celebrated as new.

When it comes to sonatas for the cello, we most often think of the great examples from the 19th century - those by Beethoven, Mendelssohn, and Brahms. For much of the baroque era, the cello was an integral part of the continuo section in chamber music. Whereas sonatas for treble instruments were quite abundant by the middle of the 17th century, sonatas for the cello were nonexistent until the 1740s when both Vivaldi and Geminiani published their sets of cello sonatas. The Italian-born composer, violinist, and theorist Francesco Geminiani (1687-1762) helped give new life to an instrument that had little in the realm of solo music (Bach’s unaccompanied Cello Suites (1717-23) being the most famous exception). Geminiani made significant contributions to the development of instrumental composition and string technique. He published several treatises where he advised of the proper performance of ornaments (Treatise of Good Taste in the Art of Musick, 1749), and an innovative method on playing the violin (Art of Playing on the Violin, 1751). Many of his novel ideas are present in the cello sonatas, including the final two movements of his charming 3rd Cello Sonata (1746).

Contemporary composer, harpsichordist and organist Nicola Canzano (b. 1991) focuses on historically informed compositions. These new pieces draw heavily from composition methodologies of the past. Canzano believes that what makes music truly great is not what novelties it may introduce, but how effective it is at accomplishing its goals, and how many times we as listeners feel compelled to hear it again and find new things to enjoy. Creating historically informed compositions does not necessarily mean that the piece will be in the exact same styles as those of the times where these techniques first flourished. The infusion of historical techniques can still forge a new stylistic path, and that is what makes this music successful - the integration of the old and new. His Violin Sonata in A Minor (2019) is a perfect example of looking to the past for the form of the movements and much of the harmonic language; but looking toward present-day sonatas with a greater role being assigned to the continuo player. The harpsichordist becomes an equal member in the musical dialog with the violinist, particularly in the fast movements.

The final new piece on this program draws upon current compositional techniques and genres, but is performed on instruments that are essentially unchanged since the 18th century - recorders. The lack of change to the instrument is what caused its disappearance for nearly 100 years through the 19th century. But the 20th-century revival of the instrument instigated a propagation of new compositions that continues today. Currently, there are more new works being composed for recorders than any other instrument. The fact that the instrument remains unchanged since the 18th century presents a number of challenges for contemporary composers, but it is also an opportunity to create music that is quite unique. Recorder player and composer Glen Shannon (b. 1966) consistently creates music that speaks of his personal style while also highlighting the strengths of the recorder. Imagery is ever-present in his composition for bass and contrabass, Slingshot (2020). Imagine the intensity and focus of finding your target and pulling back a slingshot - Shannon masterfully builds the tension before the thrill of letting go sets in. Once released, it’s magic.

Borrowed and Blue

Baroque composers frequently borrowed musical ideas from one another or from themselves. Self-borrowing was a matter of necessity - imagine having to compose multiple new works weekly as was often required by a church or court! Borrowing from others was a high honor. Bach transcribed in whole several concertos by Vivaldi because he was enamored with the Italian master and his works. George Frideric Handel (1685-1759) is one of history’s more prolific borrowers. Handel, like most baroque composers, learned composition by playing, improvising, copying, and elaborating upon pre-existing compositions. He excelled at taking an existing fragment or whole piece of music and refining it into a more perfect version of itself. Borrowing (more positively referred to as “transformative imitation”) allowed Handel to create large-scale works with great speed. Once he figured out a formula or melody that was well received, why not reuse it?

Handel’s Trio Sonata in F Major, HWV 389 (written between 1717-19; published in 1733) contains borrowed material from a popular set of 11 English anthems known as the Chandos Anthems (1717-18), written while he was in the service of James Brydges who became the Duke of Chandos. The overture to the anthem O sing unto the Lord becomes the first-movement Larghetto in his trio sonata. Parts of the anthem O come let us sing also make an appearance. Around the same time he composed this particular trio sonata, Handel was also working on Parnassa in festa (1734), an Italian opera celebrating a royal marriage. The material from the trio’s larghetto is reworked into a lively overture that opens the opera while the last movement of the trio is reworked into the fugal portion of the overture. The borrowing doesn’t stop there! We also see the trio sonata’s first movement appear in Handel’s Oboe Concerto, HWV 302 (1717-18; also borrows material from another of his Chandos Anthems).

A direct example of Handel’s borrowing is the Allegro in C Minor for Violin, HWV 408 (composed sometime before 1712, it is the existing fragment from a larger sonata), which reappears as the final movement of the Recorder Sonata in A Minor, HWV 362 (c. 1712). He reuses it once again as the final movement of his Trio Sonata in G Minor, HWV 387!

Most of us would naturally think of the genre of the blues when choosing music for a “blue” category; however, we’re going in a different direction, and Handel’s music provides a nice transition into the blues. The trading of indigo dye in the 17th and 18th centuries had a significant impact on the culture and economy of Europe, providing the funding that allowed many composers, including Handel, to thrive.

The complex art of indigo dying and the transportation of that dye into Europe made it a rare commodity through the middle ages. When a new direct ocean route from India to Europe was made possible after 1498 (sailing around the Cape of Good Hope), indigo became widely available and used from dying expensive rare gowns to clothing for the working class. Genoa, the home of Rossi and Stradella, became a center of global trade and textile production where music was performed by professional musicians in banquet halls and opera houses for the wealthy.

The extensive repurposing of the music Handel composed while living in Cannons (1717-19) was largely made possible by the estate of the Duke of Chandos, who financed his large musical establishment through his investments in the South Sea Company, which supplied indigo to colonies in the Americas. Once back in London, Handel benefitted from investors whose wealth grew thanks to the trading of indigo. The London Foundling Hospital (opened in 1741), where Handel held many concerts and fundraisers, was largely financed by the indigo trade. As babies were admitted to the Foundling Hospital, they cut a small sample of cloth from their clothing, sealing half into their admittance form and giving the other half to the mother. If she should fall on better times, she could recover the baby by producing the matching piece of cloth. Thousands of these pieces, many of them dyed with indigo, have been preserved in the London Foundling Museum and are a rare collection of the clothing of the most impoverished people of the 18th century.

Both Michelangelo Rossi (1601/2-56) and Allesandro Stradella (1639-82) worked in Genoa, a famous center for the manufacturing of fine woolens, silks, and velvets. The city was also known for its blue cotton, used for both industrial cloth and for working-class clothing. Rossi was born in Genoa but spent much of his career in other major Italian cities. Rossi was reported to be an outstanding violinist, but no violin compositions survive. His reputation primarily rests on his one surviving volume of keyboard music. The toccatas, including his Partite sopra la Romanesca da toccate e correnti (c.1634), are stylistically quite advanced, particularly in the use of chromatic harmonies.

Stradella spent the last part of his illustrious albeit turbulent career in Genoa, having been forced by his romantic entanglements to flee for his life from both Rome and Venice. A number of his innovative instrumental works experiment with musical dialogue between the voices. His Sinfonia a Tré in D Major displays the close dialog between the treble instruments and the continuo, which has less of a supporting role and becomes an integral voice.

As springtime blossoms around us, it is nice to be reminded of the simplicity and beauty of colorful flowers. Scottish composer James Oswald (c.1711-69) learned early in his career that presenting his work as “traditional” often helped its acceptability, and most of his works are based on folk tunes or familiar scenes from Scotland. He wrote two sets of Airs for the Seasons (1755), each set comprising twelve pieces for each season for a total of ninety-six miniatures. Each miniature represents a plant at its most distinctive period of the year. In celebration of blue, we will present two beautiful blue flowers in the form of small trio sonatas, the “Veronica” and the “Crocus.”