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Artists: Pacific Baroque Orchestra, Alexander Weimann, dir., harpsichord
The concerto is all about bringing things together: the term derives from Latin concertare, meaning “to work together with someone,” “to agree.” That same root word, however, also means “to contend, dispute, or debate,” suggesting that the concerto brings its participants into creative tension, even friendly competition. If the Baroque concerto models a kind of relationship, it’s one in which some lively argument is productive, in the end, of a sweeter and more satisfying harmony.
Programme
C.H. Graun (1704-1759)
Concerto for flute, violin, gamba, cello, and strings, in G major
G.P. Telemann (1681-1767)
Concerto for flute, violin, and strings, TWV 53:A2
C. Graupner (1683-1760)
Concerto for flute, viola d’amore, and strings, GWV 725
G.F. Handel (1685-1759)
Concerto grosso op 3/3, HWV 314
Programme Notes
The concerto is all about bringing things together: the term derives from Latin concertare, meaning “to work together with someone,” “to agree.” That same root word, however, also means “to contend, dispute, or debate,” suggesting that the concerto brings its participants into creative tension, even friendly competition. If the Baroque concerto models a kind of relationship, it’s one in which some lively argument is productive, in the end, of a sweeter and more satisfying harmony.
The early uses of “concerto” often referred to compositions mixing voices and instruments, but by the time of Handel and Telemann the term had come to designate more precisely one of the prime instrumental genres of the day. Still, compared to its Classical and Romantic successors, the Baroque concerto was remarkably diverse; a piece called “concerto” could call for a string orchestra with one soloist, or several, or none at all. Typically, though, the magic of the concerto lay in that sense of contrast, contention, and camaraderie; composers experimented with colourful combinations of solo instruments, all the while bringing together a range of emotions, styles, and national idioms.
Composers in the eighteenth century must sometimes have felt some sense of contention themselves as they jostled for position and salary, scrounged for performers and instruments, and negotiated the whims of patrons while maintaining their own standards of musical craftsmanship. Nevertheless, letters, gifts, and musical tributes survive as evidence of warm friendships between composers like Graupner, Telemann, and Handel, friendships that transcended—in the spirit of concertare—any professional rivalry.
Concerti, depending on the composer’s circumstances, were written for court performances, for the enjoyment of amateur music societies (such as the collegium musicum Telemann founded in Leipzig in 1701), or, increasingly as the century went on, for public concerts and the publishing market. Georg Friederich Handel’s (1685-1759) op. 3, published in London in 1734, masterfully reworked material from the past few decades into fully fledged concerti. No. 3, in G major, showcases the flute—a favourite of many Baroque concerto-writers—with dazzling solo episodes in the second movement and operatic melodies in the short but beautiful slow movements. Not to be outdone, the “violino concertino” (or solo violin) breaks out of the texture now and then to soar above the rest of the string ensemble. The last movement is a tour de force of orchestral counterpoint, weaving the solo and tutti forces into a tight, energetic unit.
Giovanni Bononcini (1670-1747), though little known today, was one of the great names in European music around 1700. A renowned opera composer, Bononcini had an international career that brought successes in Italy, Austria, France, England, Spain, and Portugal. Although mainly known for his cantatas and dramatic works, he was also publishing his own instrumental music by the age of fifteen. This particular concerto survives only in a manuscript copied in Dresden, a city that was key to the spread of Italian styles through the German-speaking world. The Dresden copyist attributes the piece to Signore “Giovanni a Roma,” which casts some doubt on the composer’s precise identity; the virtuoso cello writing, however, is one hint in favour of Bononcini, who was widely recognized as “indisputably the first” among the cellists of his day.
Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) was exposed to Bononcini’s operas early in his career, and he mixed this strain of Italian lyricism with his own thoroughly eclectic style. Telemann enjoyed perhaps unmatched fame in his lifetime, and his extraordinarily rich and extensive musical output measured up to his popularity. The Concerto for flute, violin, and strings (TWV 53:A2) was included in the composer’s Musique de table collection of 1733, a compendium of chamber music styles and genres. Telemann professed to be uninterested in the concerto genre as a vehicle for virtuosic display; he used it rather to explore imaginative effects of texture and tone colour. In this concerto, he experiments with plucked pizzicato accompaniments, echo effects, and a simple, perhaps pastoral, harmonic language. The flute and violin tend to join in a tender duet, alternating or playing together in parallel—the cello, meanwhile, stands out as a solo voice in its own right. A multi-instrumentalist himself, Telemann knew how to make each voice in his ensemble sing with its own individual character.
Christoph Graupner (1683-1760), like his friend Telemann, was an esteemed and very prolific composer. Noted for his exceptional skill as a keyboardist, Graupner thrived in the opera and court scenes of northern Germany. His orchestration in the Concerto for flute, viola d’amore, and strings (GWV 725) is strikingly effective, even mysterious. The inclusion of viola d’amore demonstrates Graupner’s feel for contrasts in timbre. The viola d’amore, played under the chin like a viola or violin, has two sets of (usually seven) strings, one of which is played with the bow while the other vibrates sympathetically. The instrument’s special sweetness of tone probably led to its association with love. In any case, the viola d’amore’s rich resonance and the soft tones of the flute certainly make for a complementary marriage as they bring out the best in each other.
Sometimes composers extended the group of solo instruments (or concertino) beyond two or three, as in Carl Heinrich Graun’s (1704-1759) Concerto for flute, violin, gamba, cello, and strings, in G major. As well being a skilled cellist, Graun sang in his own operas and composed, at the apex of his successful career, for the court of Frederick the Great of Prussia. A generation younger than Graupner and his contemporaries, Graun was especially attuned to the galant sensibilities of the later century: an emphasis on even, elegant phrases and tuneful melodies. Graun’s own affection for the flute as a solo voice may have been heightened by Frederick’s enthusiasm for the instrument. Nevertheless, no one instrument takes control of the conversation in this concerto; the high and low instruments, rather than competing with each other, pair off in a spirit of equal and amicable dialogue.
Pacific Baroque Orchestra
The ‘house band’ of Early Music Vancouver, The Pacific Baroque Orchestra (PBO) is recognized as one of Canada’s most exciting and innovative ensembles performing “early music for modern ears.” Formed in 1990, the orchestra quickly established itself as a force in Vancouver’s burgeoning music scene with the ongoing support of Early Music Vancouver. In 2009, PBO welcomed Alexander Weimann as Director. His imaginative programming, creativity and engaging musicianship have carved out a unique and vital place in the cultural landscape of Vancouver.
PBO regularly joins forces with internationally-celebrated Canadian guest artists, providing performance opportunities for Canadian musicians while exposing West Coast audiences to a spectacular variety of talent. The Orchestra has also toured throughout BC, the northern United States, and across Canada. Their 2019 East Coast Canadian tour with Canadian soprano Karina Gauvin culminated in a critically acclaimed album, Nuit Blanches, released by Atma Classique.
Alexander Weimann, dir., harpsichord
The internationally renowned keyboard artist Alexander Weimann has spent his life enveloped by the therapeutic power and beauty of making music. Alex grew up in Munich. At age three he became fascinated by the intense magic of the church organ. He started piano at six, formal organ lessons at 12 and harpsichord at university (along with theatre theory, medieval Latin and jazz piano.) He is in huge demand as a director, soloist and chamber player, traveling the world with leading North American and European ensembles. He is Artistic Director of the Pacific Baroque Orchestra in Vancouver and teaches at the University of British Columbia where he directs the Baroque Orchestra Mentorship Programme.
Alex has appeared on more than 100 recordings, including the Juno-award-winning album “Prima Donna” with Karina Gauvin and Arion Baroque orchestra. His latest album series “The Art of Improvisation” (Volume 1: A Prayer for Peace; Volume 2: Ad libitum; and Volume 3: Caravan Variations, released on Redshift, 2024) unites his passions for both baroque music and improvisation on organ, harpsichord, and piano.
