Lachrimae - Capriccio Stravagante

Some weeks ago I took in an online webinar from the Clavecin Society in San Francisco which featured a conversation with Skip Sempé. An invitation followed to contribute to the cost of their recording of his album, featuring the “Renaissance Orchestra” version of Capriccio Stravagante, featuring viols, recorders, cornetti, trombones, and three keyboards (virginals and harpsichord). The album is organized into short scenes:

• Incantation
• Seven Tears 1
• Light Airs
• Seven Tears 2
• Grave Airs
• Seven Tears 3

The notes, as usual for a Sempé production, are presented as an interview with the director. The pieces were arranged for the orchestra, giving this pieces an upgrade in sonic quality and color. I’d go so far to say that the strength of this approach is indeed color. When instruments, similar or dissimilar play together, they are tightly matched, playing as one, which takes some care. Intonation is especially sharply matched between the "choirs."

When I switch to the first track of John Holloway’s album, Pavans and Fantasies from the Age of Dowland (ECM New Series), it adopts what I might refer to as the “typical” sound of Dowland performances. Despite the instrumentarium in this album, Holloway and his colleagues manage to sound like a viol consort, although using violins and violas without vibrato. The sound is warmer, with some slight vibration, from Musica Antiqua Köln’s release from 1999 on Challenge Classic, again, using more traditional strings.

My introduction of this music came via the Virgin Veritas release from 1993 by Fretwork, mirroring the pieces available on Sempé’s album. Lute and viols are the instruments used on that album, and this is likely a good (typical) solution for these works.

But Sempé’s orchestra, filled with a more diverse instrumentarium of color, not only because of the instruments employed, but also because of his arrangements, brought new light to my understanding of these pieces. In some cases it’s helped by quicker tempi, although both albums have a similar overall length of just north of an hour.

For those interested in the recorded quality, it’s good. There’s a nice stereo image of the performance space, with plenty of width. We’re appropriately close. There are a few moments where I’m surprised by the bass presence. There’s a noticeable air when they are not playing, but it disappears during the performances well enough. I enjoyed both my sessions with headphones as I did on my main stereo hifi.

In The Earle of Essex Galiard the full compliment of the orchestra is used, changing colors between phrases. The blend of sounds from each group is well-balanced. As a pretty familiar piece to me, hearing it this scored this way was fun. Lots of energy, including the rich contributions from the three keyboards. This is a dance and feels like it. I dare say I sometimes don’t feel it in Dowland recordings—and this one delivers.

The “Seven Tears” pieces embrace the quality of melancholy. I appreciate the fact that Sempé programmed these throughout the recording, rather than overwhelming us with all that sadness together. Lachrimae Tristes (track 12) benefits from the use of cornetti. The transition to all viols is an interesting twist. They play alone, giving us that purity of one type of sound. The only sound I’m missing, honestly, is from a lute, which is not employed in this production. The transition to the cornetti and trombones is more of the same, in terms of a pure tonal color. One might imagine these “choirs” in different physical spaces in a large environment, such as the choir loft of a church, giving the music even more spatial benefits to the sound effects.

Another familiar piece to me is the Semper Dowland, semper Dolens. I think they are smart to start with the gambas. One of the longest pieces on the album, the monotony of that viol sound doesn’t weigh this piece down; unlike the dances, it’s more of a serious, introspective piece, but credit goes here to Sempé and company’s intelligent arrangement, ending finally with some intensity, which feels right.

Finally, the The King of Denmark’s Galiard benefits from the brassy, buzzy, sound of buzzed winds (cornetti and trombones). I’m brought back to my days performing at the Boar’s Head Dinner at the University of Rochester, playing a number of renaissance pieces in brass consort.

When I learned about this project, I had some skeptical thoughts. Dowland, like Gibbons, is good in small doses, but it surprised me that they’d take this repertoire on after already having a number of performances by viol specialists in the catalog. Both these interpretations and their arrangements are like hearing these pieces anew. This isn’t only because of the arranged aspect—as much as I think these pieces benefit from the changing kaleidoscope of colors—but also through the interpretations. Its as if the pieces move within their phrases better through these musicians, that the phrasing is tied to breathing, with good (but sometimes subtle, other times less subtle) dynamics shifts. The Lachriame Amantis is a good exemplar of this type of good phrasing.

Please place any biases I may have aside, but I am proud to have contributed in small way to this recording’s publication. Praise go to Sempé and his Renaissance band for an extremely high affect interpretation that’s aided in this case by employing a number of instruments germane to the period.