• Performer(s): Luca Pianca, lutes
• Recording, editing & mastering Andrea Dandolo
• Recorded: Oratorio San Rocco in Manno, April 2022
• Label: [[passacaille.be]]

We're leaving the recent focus on Bach behind. I’ve noticed recently that Luca Pianca has been putting out some solo albums. Like many readers, you may have previously experienced him playing continuo with orchestras, such as the long foundational role with Il Giardino Armonico. This latest release features French music by Robert de Visée, Ennemond Gaultier, Charles Hurel, the father and son Pierre Dubut and Antonie Forqueray on lute and theorbo.

The sound from Passacaille Records via Qobuz was clear and bright, in high resolution (96kHz) but without a booklet. (As of 6 Dec 2023 a booklet is now available via Qobuz, thank you!) The lute was captured closely with significant reverb, which was more ideal I thought, on loudspeakers than headphones. Headphones made Mr. Pianca’s breathing more noticeable. Which reminds me how my fellow students in college complained of Paul O’Dette’s breathing in his records until we heard him live and realized he was a loud breather (as if his breathing was directing his sense of phrasing, as he might be using the air to sing). Pianca seems to come from the same mould. I know extraneous noise is a bother to some listeners. The commentary on, say, jazz pianist Keith Jarrett vocalizing or Glenn Gould humming is voluminous. However the effect here is nothing close. Be that as it may, it’s a side effect of capturing a tender instrument such as a lute. On repeated listens the effect faded from my conscience.

Pianca can play both slowly and quickly while engaging the listener. The faster faire reveals his technical artistry, he never makes those pieces such as the Gaultier gigue (track 5) sound tiresome. De Visée’s La Royalle is played at a moderate tempo, and here the rich harmonies are enhanced by Pianca’s warm lute and the environment in which he performs. One can feel the pulse driving the music as the foundation below all of the composer’s special effects, which Pianca displays brilliantly.

One might imagine some of these works being performed on harpsichord; the execution of dotted rhythms in some dances almost feels too playful for a keyboard player but lends the pieces an especial French flavor (check out the Courante on track 25) as he plays here on the lute. Of course, lute and guitar music had its influence on keyboard music. The most famous example might be the opening to Bach’s Well-tempered Clavier. La Lionne, the final track of this album, goes into plucked territory where the facsimile effect on a keyboard would fail.

The eighteenth track, titled “Mascarade,” ends as few pieces do, with a literal fade-out. I of course don’t have access to the score, but this isn’t the first time that a musician leaves us with a repetitive sequence like this. These always raise questions to performance practice, in light of the fact that baroque musicians did not have a fade slider on their mixers. Did they start a new piece anew? Were they walking and move out of earshot?

The booklet notes by Brenno Boccadoro and performance notes by Pianca are well-done. A quote, that focuses attention on the importance of the lute at Louis XIV’s court:

The lute became the emblematic image of Apollo’s lyre – the god himself being rep- resented by Louis XIV, the Sun King–and became the instrument par excellence of the nobility, cultivated by the monarch and the court. Ennemond Gaultier, known as “Le Vieux”, flourished in Versailles, where he was lute master to the entire court, from Marie de Médicis to Cardinal Richelieu; he was followed by François Dufaut, the two Pierre Dubuts, father and son, Denis Gaultier the younger, Antoine and Jacques Gallot, Charles Mouton and many others.

This album is therefore not encyclopedic, but rather gives of a taste of some of personalities at Versailles.

In perhaps true baroque form, Pianca takes to arrangements and improvisations as part of this recorded recital. The de Visée Passacaille (track 19) is a great illustration of how spun-out variations on a repeated harmonic pattern might serve as the backdrop to other entertainments. Unlike the form, as taken up by later composers, the piece seems to embody the same humor throughout. Tracks 20-22 feature the pen of Antoine Forqueray, here re-purposed for the lute; among the pieces, they are the ones most familiar to me. My only want, perhaps, was to hear these a duet.

This album joins at least two previous releases by Pianca to explore pieces for the lute, joined together in thematic programs. I found this one enjoyable and an easy remedy for allowing me to partake in a historical reverie during the time of Louis XIV. The lavish detail present in the period’s art has an analogue in the ornate, rippling plucking that Pianca’s lute makes.