Biber's Mystery Sonatas - Alan Choo - Apollo's Fire
- Performer: Alan Choo, violin; Apollo’s Fire, dir. Jeanette Sorrell (harpsichord)
- Label: Avie
- Recording: St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Cleveland Heights, Ohio (2021-2023)
- Recording Producer and Editor: Erica Brenner
- Recording and Mix Engineer: Daniel Shores
- Mastering Engineer: Paul Blakemore
Introduction
This past year has seen a renewed interest in Biber’s ‘Mysteries of the Rosary’ sonatas, the 16 that employ scordatura depicting stories from different rosary prayers. I regret not going to see Alan Choo when he performed in the DC area this past year. I have heard Apollo’s Fire many times in their earlier, formative years, when I was living in Cleveland and attending CWRU’s music department (where Choo earned a doctorate in historical performance).
The booklet is one that includes the engravings that gave the sonatas their name; notes are provided by Sorrell and by Choo. Unlike many European releases, the booklet is only in English which speaks to the volume of writing which is a bonus (if you read English, of course!).
There is a decision every violinist makes with recording this work: what kind of continuo do I provide? Sorrell and company have elected to use a very rich continuo, including gambas, plucked instruments, harp, organ, and ‘percussion.’ The most famous rebuke of a large continuo ensemble may have come from the former baroque violinist Andrew Manze, who recorded the works with just a single keyboard (played by Richard Egarr). Most violinists however guild the lily in some respect, but no recording it quite so atmospheric in sound.
The argument against such a group belongs to the idea that these were private, devotional pieces intended for solemn prayer. However the virtuosity involved I think clouds our judgement, would such pieces have been only enjoyed by a private patron, or a larger audience?
The effect in this album is almost like surround sound, with lute plucks and harpsichord twang coming from both sides of the stereo image. The simpler menagerie used by Goebel (1990, DG Archiv) is lean by comparison (using lute, keyboard, and cello, not necessarily all at once).
The other decision is how many violins to use; the retuning required to play these in sequence means that the violin cannot easily be retuned (and stay that way) without days adjusting to the unique tunings for 14 of the 16 sonatas. Again, Manze thinks that using one instrument allows you to really show-off the color change that the re-tunings provide to one instrument, and so his recording features just the one violin.
Choo uses six, in total, some borrowed. It is the one aspect of this recording that is interesting, I don’t care for all the instruments used to the same degree.
Sound Quality
Listening to this album several times now, there is a mostly attractive aspect to the generous soundstage that is afforded this music. The decision to record in a church (a Cleveland church, perhaps more appropriate than a large European cathedral) is suspect, although one cannot deny that churches are fun to play in because of the acoustics. The natural reverb aside, it can provide challenges for not letting the music (or a soloist) get lost in the wash of sound.
The sound doesn’t have a highly-engineered sound to it, but overall perhaps the reverb sometimes comes at a cost of feeling like I’m in a chamber space. So goes the chamber-idea, of listening to these in solemn prayer. However for the modern listener, there’s just a loss of intimacy lost in choosing to step so far away from the group.
On the plus side, as mentioned above, there’s an atmospheric aspect to the recording. At times, a continuo instrument sticks out a bit too much, or an odd sound is detected somewhere in the background with an indeterminate source.
My assessment is that the recorded sound is consistent and in general is interesting for its spatial presentation; I’d probably rank the sound 4/5 on its own, very good, with potential for some tightness (less reverb). That said, this sound probably well-mimics a concert performance in a church space or medium-sized hall.
(That said, I wonder if Kulas Hall at CIM is available for recordings at a reasonable rate? Having played in there many times, the acoustics were superb.)
Musical Performance
It’s been fun to watch Alan Choo’s career unfold. As it was with Gunar Letzbor at a young age, to record these works as an ambitious project, it seems equally ambitious for Choo. Choo in general is hard to pinpoint around a particular violin school (i.e. German, Italian, French, British, etc.) as a Singaporean who came to the U.S. to study after his education at home. The “American” baroque school may not be as easy to detect; Choo is an extroverted player, I think, but not the ultimate extreme of some (i.e. a Biondi or Minasi).
The style and interpretive side of these performances were very engaging. I felt his interpretations were his own, not a copy of some other player’s. His solutions around how to articulate or handle multi-stopping sometimes surprised me (in a good way). He certainly didn’t squander his opportunity to make a big solo, multi-disc album.
The continuo contribution is well-done. The contributions from William Simms on theorbo and guitar stood out well; Sorrell on harpsichord was sometimes hard to hear within the texture, but I appreciated the sound of her instrument not being artificially amplified. The continuo instruments more or less sounded as loud as they should be in real life.
Choo’s intonation throughout is very good.
Sonata 1: The Annunciation
I listen carefully to this sonata across every album. One of my favorites comes from Patrick Bismuth, not to mention Monica Huggett’s. The opening has enough of that stage presence that this work seems to call for. There’s no real holding back from Choo’s perspective, and while I’ve heard that some go even more extrovert, this one is kept in check. Nice final ornament in the first track.
When the ostinato comes, Choo sounds somewhat free above the repeated foundation. The effect when the lirone comes in is nice. The instrument is one that was often used to accompany singers. Choo meshes with the sound, save for a little ornamental flourish to remind everyone that he’s still here. It’s in the kick-up of energy toward the end that I wanted more of Choo’s sound to come out; it’s no fault of his, but in the way this is recorded (and the result may well be authentic sounding as far as instrumental balance, depending where you are situated). I still wanted to be closer to his sound.
The release of this one, like many, is so well done. All sounding instruments come together each time together and release together with good balance. Here the acoustic is to their favor.
Sonata 9: Carrying of the Cross
This opens with an opulent sound from Choo’s violin. It’s brilliant when Choo (or any violinist) lands on a long note after a histrionic run, locked solid in intonation. Choo’s interpretation adds some nice little ornamental touches near many of the cadences. In the second track of this sonata, I like Choo’s phrasing in a faster sequence of notes, not playing them all evenly, but instead emphasizing the lead notes in the logical phrase groupings. A little ad lib from René Schiffer (probably the only member of Apollo’s Fire on this album, along with Sorrell, from the early days when I saw them live) before the repeat is a nice touch that comes up elsewhere in the album as well.
Choo does an admirable job with the ending (finale), double stopping, and in phrasing.
Sonata 11: The Resurrection
Can you imagine writing music to represent someone coming back to life, an ultimate miracle? This one opens with the harp and organ (which is not used as frequently). The harp’s use does evoke angelic associations, which, well, it’s nice. In the opening track I like how Choo gets that nice gritty sound in the lower register with his articulation. The echo effects are realistic. The echo-ing is done with flair. I almost feel as the boulders are being pushed aside by the end of the track.
The continuo comes out of the woodwork in the second track, with the violin quoting a hymn melody. It unfolds nicely. Choo’s switch from lower register to high is seamless. The octave playing is always a challenge; although Choo doesn’t perhaps play this section over-confidently, he manages to keep the intonation in check. The effect is still an interesting one in the way he plays it, partly the tuning used for the violin.
The final section (third track) asks for the violinist to continuo with double stopping. Choo and company phrase this well, I think, as if the music is sung, taking requisite time to breathe.
Sonata 16: The Guardian Angel
This final piece returns to the standard G-D-A-E tuning for the violin but sounds without continuo. It is difficult not to draw a parallel to this piece and Bach’s Ciaccona from BWV 1004. This is a simpler affair, but frankly, cut from similar emotional fabric. For this track I felt the acoustic with reverb was more acceptable (no balance issues to speak of). This instrument is one that I’m not as in love with as some of others he used. In my one setup with speakers, I was using a room correction algorithm in Roon that made his double stops grate a bit. Listening again using my MacBook Pro speakers (real audiophile, I know) the effect wasn’t nearly as pronounced.
There is plenty of quickness afoot in his interpretation, but he also affords himself more time for contemplation as well. If ever there was a baroque piece that gets you naked in front of an audience, this is it. I love Alan’s interpretation and the result sounds natural and heart-felt.
Maybe best of all, it is different enough from others I have also enjoyed. That in itself is part of the consistent theme here. Choo, along with Sorrell’s direction, has produced a record that has its own artistic voice, and one that is viable and beautiful.
Conclusion
This music is difficult to play well. I have been disappointed by more than one recording, but it is difficult to be overly critical with music that provides challenges for an ensemble of continuo instruments, not to mention a violinist who is reading music where the notes you are touching on your fingerboard aren’t the ones that sound, given that the written music is presented in a type of tablature, given the re-tuning that’s called for. On top of that, the music is highly rhetorical, calling on every imaginative trick up the violinist’s sleeve. Double stops, in octaves, quick bowings, and on top of that, the invitation to improvise? There’s a reason Biber’s reputation was so high. He may have been to the violin as Bach was to the organ—a master.
Many years ago when I first discovered Sorrell’s band, “Cleveland’s Baroque Orchestra” wasn’t on the same par as many European ensembles with historically-informed practice. It was exciting to see an American ensemble (no less, in my own backyard) taking on HIP performance.
Those days are over. With this album, Sorrell and her band have moved into an enviable first-class position. While Choo is the star, the overall concept is one that depends upon a menagerie of players playing in close consort. The overall effect works splendidly to amplify the emotional potential of this music.
We are at a wonderful point in recorded music arts to have multiple excellent recordings of this set. I won’t list them all here again, but I have been pretty focused on trying to review them all given my soft spot for Biber’s violin works.
Maybe I am a bit surprised, but happily so. Alan Choo has an achievement with this recording that he and his Cleveland comrades should be very proud of. This album is of the highest class and while I think there is a small improvement for overall sound quality (closer miking or less reverb) I can also understand the engineer’s decision to capture the church’s natural acoustic without letting it go to waste. Highly recommended; this is an achievement.
