Tuma: Vesperæ
My good friend has been a real fan of Roman Válek’s recordings, appearing upon the Supraphon label from the Czech Republic. Having auditioned several of them myself, I was always surprised at the high quality of musicianmanship from both the instrumentalists and singers. In this release, continuing their exploration of the music by Czech composer Frantisek Ignac Antonin Tuma, we’re treated to an Overture in C and the Stabat Mater, which have been recorded before. Newly recorded is the Vesparæ de confessore, the Litaniæ Reginæ Martyrum, and two instrumental works. Fresh to our ears, indeed.
My first exposure to Tuma came from the recording of instrumental works by Concerto Italiano, which I fell in love with. The pieces here are all played by the full orchestra. The soundworld of this album takes a bit to get used to, especially so if you stick to the instrumental numbers as a warm-up; the sound is not close, and the majority of the music comes from the left side of the stereo image. But the picture in the liner notes doesn’t betray how this music was performed, in situ, in a church. The Czech Ensemble Baroque Orchestra here, as well as my memory serves, is in good form. Their compliment of strings is bolstered by winds, including trombones, cornettos, trumpets, and drums.
The first work I listened to was the Litaniæ Reginæ Martyrum, for which the ears get a real treat. The church is as much on display here as the music, with a generous reverb and it supports the full frequency spectrum well. With the choir, the music envelopes us. It’s a supportive sound.
I’m not an expert Christian liturgy, and so I can’t speak to the purpose of this work specifically, but it appears to be a special mass setting. Thankfully, the booklet notes for this release give us some welcome details about the purpose behind this music: this piece is described a special feast day music. The five part piece, according to the booklet, was performed often in Tuma’s day. The festive character is hard not to admire.
The work’s closing movement, Agnus Dei opens without all the pomp of drums and trumpets, with just the choir, supported by the organ. A short solo appears before the composer unleashes the full gamut of orchestral forces. The piece is short, but it packs a punch!
Tuma had tried to get posts in Prague but eventually made his way to Vienna, absorbing different musical styles, from French, to Neapolitan. He lived during an interesting time, when musical tastes were under quite a shift. Dates for his instrumental pieces aren’t provided, but they are clearly written in a high baroque style. The opening Overture is more forward leaning than the other included pieces; they have a modernity about them that similar fanfares by the older works by Charpentier lack. The French-style piece, however, is a grand opener for what little doubt would have been a feast-day celebration. The similarity, to my ears in the fugal section to something we might have expected in an opera opener, speak to the splendors that might await, given the full orchestral forces. If you didn’t know this was by Tuma, you might expect this to be an opener for something performed at Versailles. It’s well done.
The Vesperæ de confessore was written in 1753. LIke the other two vocal works on this recording, Tuma’s movements are not long or drawn-out. To my ears they are not conceived as pure vocal works, but instead, the instrumental components are equally important. The solos from soprano Zuzana Badarova are nicely rendered with a pure tone. Matus Simko is a very strong tenor; both Jiri Mirosalv Prochazka (bass) and Lucie Karaflatova (alto) are also good contributors, but the tenor and soprano parts for me were the ones I admired most. As we expect Bach’s choir worked, the soloists are also members of the choir and sing in ensemble as well. The choir disposition is three per part. The clarity of the soloists against their singing in ensemble is well done.
For Tuma’s writing, he’s fond of stopping and allowing us to enjoy the church’s acoustic; musically, he changes the texture and configuration in his movements quickly enough to maintain a high level of interest from the audience. My analogy is echoed in the artwork in many churches, go to a large European church and more often than not, there is a lot to delight the eye from one’s vantage point. If you grow tired of the view, something new and different is just a few feet away. Tuma I feel is writing for his audience. In this way, I think his writing is very modern compared to, say, Bach or Handel. The musical material, to be honest, isn’t as rich, but it still is, I think, interesting, if not very pragmatic.
Take the minor-moded fugal passage in the Laudate Dominum. Comes from no where and is immediately something you take notice of. And before you know it, it’s all over!
I know as I expose many family members to baroque music, for which they do not share my own passion, getting into vocal music can be a tall order, like turning someone onto fish when they’re only used to beef and chicken. I find all the works on this album are ripe for sampling something new. The music is approachable, even if you don’t care to follow the Latin text, it washes over us (as may anyone present years ago in a church) with the character of something sacred, special, and festive.
While I have not lived with this album for long, I recognize that Tuma’s music, as presented, is easy to fall for. He’s aware of what it takes to tickle our ears in the right places. The Czech ensemble here is on top-form. Their director, Roman Válek, is a good interpreter. Most interesting to me, historically, is how he’s writing from what I can tell, as an instrumentalist. His vocal works and handling of solo parts show his skill at orchestration. He leaves the legacy of church music behind in solutions that speak more to his time and place rather than history.
I applaud Válek and company for bringing us new music to hear for the first time in modern times. This album may be the ideal place to start your journey with this group and their exploration of Tuma’s music.
