Fanfare Reviews | Le Memorie Dolorosa

On Good Friday, 1678, Holy Roman Kapellmeister Johann Heinrich Schmelzer (c. 1623–1680) produced a sacred drama at the court in Vienna. Unlike its models, which were the Roman oratorios of composers such as Carissimi, it has no plot, but rather belongs to a type of work known as a sepolcro that was common in the central European domains. These were contemplations held in large dioramas, where the events of the Passion could be reproduced using the scene as a backdrop. The work was a one-off, not intended to be repeated, and therefore there is no recollection of how it was received. The main subject matter is the death of Christ, here viewed from the perspective of various characters; the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, the Apostles, Joseph of Arimathea, and one or two others. Indeed, the text by poet Nicolò Minato seems to dwell upon death to a monomaniacal fashion. It is therefore somewhat ironic that the composer himself should perish about a year later from Fanfare November/December 2019 381 NovDec 2019 43.2.qxp_c 9/24/19 7:00 PM Page 381 the plague, with this being perhaps his own swan song. Although there is a brief introduction, the various sections seem to be divided by instrumental sonata that bears no resemblance to the drama itself. These, however, don’t distract from the vocal portions, but rather provide a moment of respite. The A-Minor Sonata, for example, has a nice passage of scurrying violins that cascade about before turning into an instrumental stylized dance. The following quartet (“La vera luce”) is made all the more transparent texturally as a result. Throughout a pair of angels provide commentary in brief interludes in parallel thirds, but with major and minor modes varying according to the sentiment of the text. These are provided by Tenet members Molly Quinn and Virginia Kelsey with light and airy tones. The Virgin Mary (soprano Jolle Greenleaf) has a richer, yet light and resonant tone that provides enough solo power but always leads. The opening sequence in which the angels and Virgin discuss the event is pure tonally and floats in and out of arioso passages, interspersed with the occasional quasi-recitative. Their conclusion, that Christ has died, is particularly poignant, though this sentiment alternates with some stylized dance rhythms. Sad, yes, but with the overlay of hope. Male voices comprise the Apostles Peter, James, and John. Their darker toned voices are mirrored by the lower register instruments, marking a rather vivid contrast to the ethereal women’s characters. Here the counterpoint is clear, with all three in imitation. A dialogue between them and the Virgin is filled with literary imagery, but even given the graphic descriptions, the tone is positive, as seen by the major keys used by Schmelzer. The aria that concludes the second part, “Morte à Christo,” is one of three movements apparently composed by Emperor Leopold I himself, which may explain why Schmelzer’s singular score has survived; it is found in the Emperor’s private library collection. The aria is well written, if a bit old-fashioned. The modulations are simple, as is the harmony, but he does have a knack for a good melody, albeit one that is lugubrious and solemn. The work concludes with all singing an accompanied madrigal (“Sospirate”) that uses a strophic form, while the actual finale is a moral that would not be out of place in a Buxtehude cantata. The sentiment is filled with hope and there is a bit of nice imitation that provides variety. The performance by both groups is clear and the tempos don’t drag, which would be one of the pitfalls of this type of work. It literally flows, and each of the voices blends well with the instruments. The straight-tone singing allows for no deviation, and there is none. The only awkwardness is in the translation of the text, where someone has not been paying enough attention to translation theory. (Example: “Croce à DIO!” becomes “Cross, begone,” when it probably should be “Crucify God!” with a gloss on à Dio becoming addio.) In any case, that doesn’t detract from a fine performance, and if one is inclined to include such sacred pieces from the Austrian Baroque in one’s collection, this should be one of them. Bertil van Boer