1 post tagged “manze”
In a world sorely in need of more good period soloists – not to mention good period groups – Andrew Manze almost makes us forget we should be concerned. How? Manze, more than any other period soloist, brings life to what can honestly be called dying music.
Perhaps I should clarify: As inherently rich as these works are, they’re not even remotely recognizable. With the exception of some warhorses by Bach and Handel and some concerti by Vivaldi, most Baroque music is very nearly dead. There are two major reasons for this: (1) most Baroque music, especially that by lesser-known composers, is sorely neglected, and (2) most Baroque music is interpreted formulaically.
Which is where Manze comes in. Unlike most period instrumentalists, Manze is an interpreter. He phrases. He meanders. But most importantly, he delights in the music.
Baroque music, due largely to many lethargic interpretations, tends to fit an ever-abiding stereotype: all music written before the Classical period sounds the same. In Manze’s hands, nothing could be further from the truth. Take the fantasias, for example. They’re about as varied and dynamic as anything Bach wrote for solo violin. And in Manze’s hands, they grow into something rather large – especially the first and last two, which seem to jump from the speaker (not to mention the page). Above all, though, Manze never seems satisfied to merely play what’s before him. The slow sections are full of confident searching, and the more upbeat passages are unapologetically exuberant. (Many Baroque interpreters seem to use fast movements as a kind of reward to both the listener and themselves – a musical tragedy, if there ever was one.)
The Gulliver Suite is an apt conclusion to this recording, what with the feast of exploration one finds in the fantasias. Although brief (five movements, about seven and a half minutes in all), the work is anything but small. If anything, it seems as though it were composed as a study in pronouncement. Such is what Manze and Caroline Balding make of it. In their hands, two violins seem more than adequate. In fact, throughout the work, their bowing raises the music to the level of something more percussive and penetrating. Like Gulliver, we are awed by what’s before us. Unlike Gulliver, however, we aren’t happy when it’s all over.