The Scale Knitters - Music by Marais
The year is 1723, and on deck are three pieces by Marin Marais, the by now famous French gamba performer. In just five years he’ll be dead, so these are unquestionably “late pieces” by the student of Lulli and Sainte-Colombe. Little known about Marais, perhaps, is how productive he was in the bedroom, producing nineteen children with his wife, Catherine d’Amicourt.
The trio of pieces feature the violin:
- La Gamme (en forme de un petit opéra),
- Sonate a la Maresienne
- Sonnerie de Sainte-Geneviève du Mont de Paris
I remember receiving a gift CD for a birthday of the “Bells of St. Genevieve” featuring the third of these pieces. For reasons I don’t recall, I ended up returning the CD unopened! My next introduction to Marais was seeing the 1991 film at college, Tous les matins du monde, featuring Jordi Savall and Fabio Biondi performing the music.
This recording features a new ensemble (to my knowledge) calling themselves the Scale Knitters. The ensemble includes violinist Fiona-Émilie Poupard, two gamba players (Marion Martineau and Atsushi Sakai), theorbo (Magnus Andersson), and harpsichord (Brice Sailly).
About the name of their ensemble, they write:
As evocative and yet mysterious as the title of this work, the name of our ensemble— The Scale Knitters — arose from our shared curiosity about all kinds of music and of the art of knitting. Just as infinite combinations of textures, colours and reliefs can be created from two stitches, a multitude of melodic and harmonic patterns can be created from scales, modes and râga.
La Gamme (The Scale)
The piece is written in three parts, here realized by violin, gamba, and basso continuo. The presentation, sonically, is rich. Marais’ writing here is interesting, focusing upon the musical concept of a scale, which opens the work, but different sections seem to tease out the various musical characteristics through the different notes of the scale. The mention of it being written in the style of an opera speaks to the characteristics Marais is looking for the instruments to mimic, offering a wide variety of rhetorical devices normally afforded to voices in a stage production. Performers have the option to go full tilt with expressive interpretation, and taking advantage of Marais’ improvisatory flourishes, modulations, and ornamentation.
I felt throughout that the Scale Knitters were up to the challenges left by Marais. The liner notes point out how virtuosic the role Marais has given, across these pieces, for the violin. They also point out that his earlier work for the viol, the Labyrinthe, which traverses many keys, may have played a prototype to La Gamme.
The whole ensemble plays well together, but the contributions from Poupard are especially compelling. She and her musical companions I think well understand the style of this music.
La Gamme is a long piece, taking on this album over 44 minutes to perform. The length of the piece is an oddity, one that is again highlighted in the suggestion that it’s wrought as a small opera. This was high art, which illustrates part of the way we might summarize innovation throughout the baroque period, born from vocal music, wherein the instruments, over time, after given the same prominence by composers and audiences, allowing instruments to out-do the voices, with a progression of more virtuosic challenges. The idea here of writing chamber music that was to hand over to instruments the wide gamut (yes, I used that word on purpose!) of human emotions without a text, must have been seen as novel by some, if not seen as the ultimate kind of player’s challenge. I can’t say if Marais would have recognized the dual interpretation of “Gamme” as I have used it, but I have to think the variety of stylistic devices he depends upon is suggestive of him putting all he knew into one piece. In this way, the piece’s length speaks to the composer’s audacious attempt to showcase the power of music, through all its tones.
We have to recognize that Bach, in some ways, was after the same concept in his writing of the Well-Tempered Clavier. Whether he was aware of Marais’ piece, I cannot say. While I think to a great degree this is lost on us today, the keys of music to Marais’ audience was to each have its own character which in some ways was amplified by the tuning systems in use.
Sonate à la Marésienne
In this piece, Marais gives the limelight to the violin, containing the viol’s role to the basso continuo. The six-movement suite provides ample contrast between its movements. The style is reminiscent of Marais’ works for viol, but there’s also a modern aspect to the writing, which no doubt owes something to the rise in popularity in Italian music. The second movement gives some really nice fodder for the violin to lean into the harmonic drama. It’s hard for me to not think Poupard isn’t in love with this music. Both her tone and ability to give ample voice to the length of notes, for me make her playing a joy.
During the Sarabande, Marais’s harmonic language gives an opportunity for the violin to really sink into the second beat, which I felt might have been exploited more. The leaps might have sounded interesting to his audiences, they are idiomatic more so to instruments than voices, and are an interesting attempt to showcase the virtuosity of his violinist, exploring a higher range of the violin.
The penultimate movement starts by shining attention on the basso continuo team. The Scale Knitters are well-equipped for it. The violin writing isn’t entirely idiomatic, but I rather enjoy how Marais, not to exclude these musicians, seem to be having some fun.
The violin is forced onto the hot seat for the final gigue, which again, is commendably performed.
Sonnerie
Perhaps today, the most recognizable piece in this collection is this one, built on a repeating bass line that evokes the sound of tolling bells. Equally compelling music is written here for both a gamba and violin, which is reinforced with continuo in a third line. The direction given is “Légerèment” which, as far as I can tell, indicates something light; something slower rather than quick.
The Scale Knitters take a relaxed tempo, which allows the violin part a little more grace to realize the ornaments; it also aids the viol part, later, to vary its articulation. What I found interesting is how the violin part is kind of subdued in the start of the piece; I am not sure its intentional or not, but I am used to hearing this piece presented more violin-forward. At m. 118 when the violin and gamba join forces to play together, both musicians seem well poised to play in the same style, which is nice.
Also notable about this piece is that dynamics are called for; the dynamics are rendered in this performance, but not to the greatest of contrasts. Part of that opinion may well be because the ensemble is not intimately close to the microphones. In fact, for this piece on the album, I was disappointed in how things were captured. The preceding work has a sharp focus in the sound, especially so from the violinist; in Sonnerie, the whole ensemble is more distant, and the sound quality I’d describe as veiled.
When one thinks of church bells, in terms of tempo, they are not typically played quickly. While Marais doesn’t play with tempo changes across this piece, some ensembles have played a bit with quickening one section up, while slowing another down (double lines and key changes make for specific points where it’s been done). The Scale Knitters don’t take the bait, maintaining a tempo that for me meets the spirit of what Marais has called for. That said, many of the recordings I’ve enjoyed are finished before the ten minutes it takes this ensemble to complete the work.
Comparison
Back in 2013, Monica Huggett, and her aptly named ensemble, recorded these three works by Marais, alongside one of A. Forqueray’s viol suites, featuring Emilia Benjamin. The recording therefore acts as a direct comparison to this new one.
The Sonnerie is performed in under 8 minutes by Huggett and friends. The sound is very different from that in the newer recording, with the engineers getting far closer to Huggett and her small band. They hardly benefit from the acoustic, which may not be ideal, but we get a much more transparent account of each part.
Sonnerie’s forces are not as filled-out as those used in this newer recording. I ultimately favor their rendition of the piece inspired by bells. Part of it is the treat of being closer to the musicians, but the other is the tempo. It may not be Légerèment but it does make feisty fair for the ears.
Listeners should note that La Gamme is cut up differently between the two albums, appearing as one has fewer movements; this is somewhat explained in the liner notes from The Scale Knitters, who mention that dividing tracks precisely with the composer’s divisions “of the scale” doesn’t work well.
While Sonnerie are a very competent band, I felt in comparing these two albums that the flavor of Huggett’s playing came across with less French flavor. Her instrument is brighter, and comes across clearer, but the effect I think is more about how Poupard shapes the line, ornaments, and captures the goût français.
Therefore, I have to give preference to this new recording when it comes to performances of La Gamme and the Sonate à la Marésienne. The Scale Knitters offer a richer continuo team, if that is more to your liking.
Conclusion
For me, the music of Marin Marais is always a treat, but while it may be easy to get led astray in just listening to his books for the gamba, these three pieces for me represent some of his best music. As odd as it may be that a composer who’d been dedicated to the viol might write compelling music that features the violin, here it is! Who is to say what compelled the composition of these works, but it marks a high spot in French baroque music before new voices such as that of Jean-Marie Leclair would continue this work weaving the Italian violin into French repertoire with a voice that didn’t fully abandon the French style, while also progressing the writing of the instrument in new directions.
This album for me let me down in terms of how the final work was presented sonically, but what comes across in all three works is this ensemble’s affection for the music and their coordinated application of French flavor in their playing. In the case of timing they are not as fleet as Ensemble Sonnerie, but at least across La Gamme and the solo sonata, I never felt things were too slow. Maybe, yes, just right.
