Concerti per violoncello - Hanna Salzenstein

One of the things I admired about this new recording on first glance was the line-up of music, pitting now-familiar Vivaldi concertos next to some that are by less-familiar composers, including three recorded world premiers. In total, it’s seventy minutes of music, featuring music by composers born between 1659 and 1697.

While the Ensemble and Orchestra versions of “Le Consort” appear on harmonia mundi, my guess here is that Salzenstein’s contract with Mirare has brought them over for their second release this month.

Out of the gate, let me say that the Orchestre Le Consort is sounding good across this album; there is strong support from the first violins that comes across clear in the left channel; the width of sound given to the ensemble through their captured performances is generous, with ample bass support. While my first thought was that they sounded even better in the harmonia mundi release recorded at L’Arsenal featuring the Four Seasons by Vivaldi, this release stands on its own with good sound. Again, the generous options with continuo adds both texture and interest, with harpsichord, organ, guitar, and lute.

I also credit the artists for choosing a strong program of music featuring the violoncello. I’d like to start with the middle movement of the Platti concerto, WD 651. Here the balance of the cello with the orchestral forces is ideal. Salzenstein’s presence against the orchestra is perfect, with enough transparency to appreciate the sound of her instrument. Unfortunately this isn’t always the case, as I’ll discuss below.

The Jacchini “concerto,” which I’d classify more of an orchestral work with obbligato cello, compared to the more formal structure used by Vivaldi, is an interesting work, overall short. It’s written in a quasi-four movement structure, with a very short second movement that lets the orchestra steal the spotlight.

One of my favorite pieces for cello is also included on this album, the double concerto in G minor by Vivaldi, RV 531. I’ve heard this countless times, including in live performances. Many times when it’s done, there’s a guest cellist who then joins a cellist from the orchestra. They may not have a long relationship and not sound, well, in-sync with one another. At least that is the sense I’ve gotten with some live performances. The duo here, with Albéric Boullenois joining Salzenstein, are well-paired, I think, both in style and in sound. The slow movement is an opportunity to hear them both, thankfully separated in the stereo image. I think there’s a missed opportunity in how this slow movement is played, with opportunities to inject a little more rhetorical punch, pushing the tempo, at least in places. The style instead is clearly focused on letting things relax and fade a bit. I think it was the easier way to approach this movement, and certainly less creative, but otherwise, well-enough played. Relaxing approaches like this work when the outer movements have fierce energy, and they bring it here.

There are several tracks where we get to hear Salzenstein on her own, including the opening piece by Domenico Gabrielli (with minimal accompaniment), the Sanguinazzo Ricercar in D, and the dall’Abaco Caprice in A (for solo cello). These short pieces help to add pauses between the concertos, including those by Vivaldi (RV 401, 400), an anonymous Venetian one, and one by Antoniotto in G minor.

I do take issue with how Salzenstein’s instrument was captured. She plays on a period cello from 1711, and its sound does not come across as very assertive. Be that as it may, the way it was captured I think robs the album of its impact.

There are some things the orchestra does quite well in terms of the fast movements. The anonymous concerto that opens in track 2 is played at a perfect, virtuosic tempo. The guitar played by Nacho Laguna helps push the group forward, just as it does in the third movement of the Vivaldi double concerto. I felt things slow just a bit once the soloists enter, which was a bit disappointing (RV 531.3). Vivaldi’s writing in this concerto backs the orchestral forces during the solo episodes for the two cellos, but even so, I wanted to hear the two cellists in the spotlight. Instead, they are well-blended into the orchestral textures, which at times, places them into the shadows.

I’d fallen in love some years ago with Roel Dieltiens performing RV 401 with his group, Ensemble Explorations. Here, with Le Consort, with the strings playing muted, the balance improves. Salzenstein’s articulation is easy enough to appreciate, but because of the way I think this album was captured, she doesn’t dominate the texture in the way Dieltiens does in the older recording.

For the Antoniotto concerto, bassoon is included as part of the continuo which is another nice touch. The performance is a world premier, and when the bassoon and cello have their day in the sun, the contrast in timbres is perfect. Yet, yes, the bassoon is easier to follow than the cello!

With a lot of minor-moded pieces on this album (yes!), the Platti concerto is like a breath of fresh air, written in D major. He borrows inspiration, I have to think, from Corelli, at least in the harmonic language that opens this concerto. The orchestral support in the outer movements is perfect; but yes, I still want to hear more of the soloist against the band. It’s a matter of volume, on one hand, but also presence.

While I will of course admit that I wasn’t in the room for the performance, I can’t speak to how naturally the balance is represented in this recording. My guess would be that there was a purposeful effort to adhere to the natural balance. But in this case, the album would have been even more enjoyable with Salzenstein’s sound tailored a bit; she’s a sensitive player, one who I think applies the appropriate amount of vibrato for expression. Her instrument’s voice just needs more grip when the ensemble around her is playing at moderate to full volume.

For comparison, I pulled out Salzenstein’s teacher’s, Christophe Coin’s recording, with L’Onda Armonica made in 2018 for naïve classics and compared RV 400. There’s a brighter component to Coin’s instrument, but that aside, the cello is clearly bathed in the light. It’s a metaphor, yes, but the orchestral forces appear lighter, being pushed back, and the sound of the cello is clear and centered. For another comparison, I pulled out my favorite Dieltiens recording, made in 1997 for harmonia mundi. Played 1-per-part, again the balance gets an improvement here. While Dieltiens is far-less out front than Coin in his recording, the natural balance of using a smaller orchestra puts favor in the balance for the cellist. This recording, in my opinion doesn’t have the best recording balance, using microphones that are likely too far from the performers, with a lot of environmental bloom, but even still, I get more cello from the recording.

Those comparisons made, I prefer the orchestral fullness in this recording from Orchestre Le Consort. In RV 400’s last movement, there are moments when we do get enough of Salzenstein, but then when the dynamics from the orchestra take over? She disappears again into the shadows of their sound.

This recording follows Salzenstein’s debut on Mirare, entitled É il violoncello suonò, featuring the artist paired with chamber partners, personalities also present on this disc. The Vivaldi sonata RV 40 shows off the cellist’s strengths. But there, too, is a clearer representation of her instrument’s sound, which has a quality about it that I think contributes to what I’m hearing in the concertos disc, it’s muted a bit, and the best way I have to describe this quality is of a person’s voice when their nose is stuffy. There are certain overtones missing that would help project her sound, especially when taking on solo roles. The fifth track of the earlier album, played just with Taylor on harpsichord and Salzenstein on the cello? The brightness of the harpsichord dominates the texture.

Conclusion

A lot of my musical listening of baroque music today is dominated by French musicians, wherein the 80s and 90s were dominated first by the English, and then we saw a shift to the Italians. Le Consort has emerged as a favorite go-to ensemble of mine, with fresh style from well-accomplished musicians. This is the time for their cellist to shine, and this album has a lot going for it, not to mention the musicians behind the production.

This album’s strengths lie in its programming, combining well-known and obscure music to co-exist, showcasing the bounty of the period. Salzenstein is a strong cellist who excels equally with the faster material as she does the slower, cantabile material.

This album more than once had me wanting more, in terms of juicing more of her sound and the details of her playing, especially so when playing in tandem with Le Consort’s louder moments. While I think part of this is the character of her instrument’s timbre, it should have been assuaged by the sound engineers. It’s the small detail that has me holding back half a star.

All this said, I’d encourage these musicians to continue on their path of putting out both well-known and less-well-known works in their concert and recording pursuits. At the same time, I think they could add value to their performances by exploring for opportunities to have their own voices stand out. They know how to make a well-polished recording. For me what’s holding them back is to capture our attention with novel subtleties. It starts with taking the slow, generous melodic lines in slow movements and using that as the bedrock for a newly rendered solo line. It’s by using their power as rhetoricians to let us hear the harmonic and rhythmic frameworks left by the composers in a different way. And if they don’t do it, someone later may, in an effort to differentiate themselves from what’s already on record.

I wrote about this in the Orchestre Le Consort’s other recording released this month, featuring Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. What I’m craving now is the opportunity to hear these musicians live. I’d like to know if they are risk takers in live situations versus how they make their recordings.

To be sure, they have what it takes to be on the very top. This recording is evidence of that; again, I think the ensemble support on this album is ideal. De Swarte’s leadership as lead violinist comes clear in the recording, and like the Vivaldi album, the support from the continuo team is overtly present, strong, and satisfying.

My reservations aside, this was an enjoyable album, and I’d encourage you to seek out Salzenstein’s earlier chamber release on Mirare as well; the last track is a lot of fun!