Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber (1644-1704): Sonatas on the Mysteries of the
Rosary.  Gunar Letzbor, violin; Lorenz Duftschmid, bass viol; Wolfgang
Zerer, organ; Wolfgang Gluexam, harpsichord; Axel Wolf, lute/archlute;
Michael Oman, viola da gamba; Ulli Fussenegger, contrabass.
ARCANA A901 (2 CDs, about 2 hours total).

As some here may already have guessed from other postings of mine, I think
that one of the best kept secrets of classical music is the 17th century,
perhaps the peak of the Baroque era (at least in the arts as a whole).
Whether one looks at the early part of the 1600s, with its obvious echoes
of the Renaissance, or to the development of musical forms such as the
sonata and opera, this was a century with more than its share of discovery
and the pushing of new boundaries.  Beginning with Monteverdi, and ending
with the tunefulness of Purcell, the concerti of Corelli, the operas and
liturgical mastery of the French, it is a century still too often dismissed
with terms such as "Baroque wallpaper".

Yet the exploration of the 1600s helped to pave the way for Handel and
Bach, Vivaldi and Rameau.  So too, the development of playing techniques
for newer instruments such as the violin was present in music throughout
this century, affecting what is done even today.  Much of this development
of innovative string playing technique took place in areas such as Austria,
not least of which is seen in the remarkable string music of Biber, written
mostly in the years between 1670 and 1700 in Salzburg.

This set of 16 sonatas is probably Biber's most famous work, yet it seems
amazing that its recording history apparently goes back only a little more
than 30 years to the trailblazing set on Vox by Suzanne Lautenbacher (still
available on CD).  This present version (1997) seems to have recently shown
up here in the U.S., though I don't know if it has been around longer in
Europe.

The dates of these sonatas' composition are uncertain; Letzbor in his notes
to the recording seems to ascribe them to ca.  1670, whereas other sources
place them later.  They probably did not come any later than the early
1680s, the reason to be obvious shortly.

The name Mystery, or Rosary Sonatas, was not given to these works by Biber.
However, an original manuscript has each of the 15 main sonatas (as well
as the 16th, the unaccompanied Passacaglia of the Guardian Angel) preceded
by an engraving that illustrates episodes in the life of Mary (and in turn,
that of Jesus).  These are grouped into the three sets of five Joyful,
Sorrowful, and Glorious Mysteries, perhaps a reflection of the Rosicrucian
revival that came after the Thirty Years War.  As Biber's employer in the
main period of his career was the Archbishop of Salzburg, there seems to
have been a ready audience for these sonatas.

Are these, then, "programmatic" works in the sense that we normally use
the word? Perhaps, but only very loosely; maybe the more appropriate terms
are that these create "impressions" or emotions, tied to the engravings.
Even then, the context can change the "program", as is seen in the most
remarkable case of the 10th Sonata, depicting the Crucifixion.  It is this
sonata that was taken by Andreas Schmelzer (son of J.H.  Schmelzer, an
older colleague and possible teacher of Biber's), who transposed it up one
tone, added a small concluding movement, then retitled it "The Victory of
the Christians over the Turks" in ca.  1684 (after the siege of Vienna by
the Ottomans was lifted).  The switch of this music from its depiction of
a crucifixion to that of a battlefield scene perhaps underscores how in
these contexts, the notion of a "program" is somewhat flexible!

The other facet of these works which makes them famous is of course,
Biber's signature use of scordatura tunings in the violin.  This deliberate
change in the tunings of the four strings (from that of g, d1, a1, e2)
occurs in all but the First sonata and the concluding Passacaglia.  While
part of the reasons that composers have used scordatura has been to change
the range of the violin, or to allow for multiple stoppings that would be
much more difficult in the "cordatura" mode, Biber's purpose also seems
to be to create instrumental colors that the violin cannot otherwise
create, not to mention a certain level of symbolism.  In fact it has been
speculated that Biber, with his documented high level of intellect, put
layers of symbolism throughout these sonatas tied to schools of thought
such as Hermetic philosophy, that we cannot yet decode today.

In addition, while I've been told that scordatura traditionally means that
a string is detuned to a lower pitch than normal, the scordaturas in the
Mystery Sonatas (all of which are given in the notes to this recording,
and which Letzbor confirms in his essay) often require the strings to be
retuned UPward in pitch.  In the most celebrated case, the 11th Sonata on
the Resurrection apparently requires the violin's middle two strings to be
switched in position (in effect, according to one reference I've read, to
be crossed over below the bridge) so that the scordatura is now g, g1, d1,
d2.  While I don't know whether this sort of effect is truly practicable,
the result is that the violin becomes two instruments, each with two
strings in g and d.  Not only is there the obvious physical symbolism of
the crossed strings, but this is also reflected in the music, in the form
of a dialogue between differing registers in the sonata's opening movement.

As to my impressions of this particular recording, I found it very moving
to listen to, even though I have no familiarity with the tradition of
Rosary prayer.  Letzbor is not well known in the U.S.; he is from a region
of Austria not too far from Salzburg.  He seems to be something of a Biber
specialist, with a background that includes monastery studies, and time
spent with such ensembles as the Musica Antiqua of Cologne (with Reinhard
Goebel) and the Wiener Akademie.  He presently has his own ensemble, the
Ars Antiqua Austria.  Like most of the younger generation of early music
violinists, he has technique to burn, a good sense of pitch (useful if
one is to play with only occasional vibrato in today's period instrument
performance school), but also a darker, huskier tone to his playing that
gives me the impression of a typical "mittel-Europa" sound.  What he
sometimes may lack in pure beauty of tone is made up for in the level of
emotional expression he provides.  In this recording he uses both an 18th
century instrument and a modern copy of a Baroque instrument.

I don't know how "authentic" is his use of the additional musicians on
this recording.  It is definitely the largest, most diverse group of
continuo players of all the available Mystery Sonata recordings to my
knowledge (some of them are names familiar to those who follow groups like
Hesperion XX and the Harp Consort).  But beyond the core players (violin,
bass viol and organ), the others are used on an occasional basis, with
some forethought evident as to how they can add to the instrumental
colors.  For example, the lute is added to reinforce the violin's harsh
multiple-stopping that occurs in Sonata VII (the scourging of Christ).  In
some cases, the keyboard instruments are foregone for the use of the bowed
or plucked bass ones.  The brighter, happier works use harpsichord (the
variations and Gigue in Sonata XIV, the Virgin's Assumption, positively
dance with exuberance).  And the addition of the gamba or contrabass in
others adds a welcome weightiness to the sonatas of the Annunciation,
Crucifixion, and the Glorious Mysteries.  The sound is quite acceptable,
though with the usual up-closeness, and a slight amount of reverberation.

If you've read this far, I must confess that I have little knowledge of
other recordings to make comparisons.  I've always wanted to obtain the
Virgin release with John Holloway and the continuo group Tragicomedia,
but this seems to be out of print at this time.  What little snippets I've
heard of the recordings from the 60s (Lautenbacher's and another by Eduard
Melkus), I found to have less impact by the scordatura effect, mainly from
what seems to be more extensive use of vibrato.  Still, if one's preference
is for a modern instrument recording but with a reasonable continuo
complement, then the Lautenbacher Vox set is probably still the way to go.

The one direct comparison I can make is of the Passacaglia, with that by
Andrew Manze on Harmonia Mundi (part of the famous Romanesca recording
of the 1681 Sonatas, with the Rosary #16 thrown in).  Manze's tone is a
little sweeter, and his version is more than a minute more leisurely than
Letzbor's, who seems to take his Passacaglia with a bit more forward
propulsiveness.  Still, Letzbor makes his point, and while I prefer Manze,
both are very valid approaches.

Manze has also recorded the Schmelzer "Victory" sonata as part of the
Romanesca disk that includes J.H.  Schmelzer's 1664 Sonatas "unarum
fidium".  This is a treat not to be missed, with Manze's rather jazzy
(Turkish?) orientalisms spicing up the performance.  Of course, this style
of playing would not be appropriate in Biber's context of the Crucifixion,
where Letzbor seems not to indulge in extremes, except for the opening
movement's slashing chords (the striking of the nails into the Cross?).
Instead, the impression Letzbor gives is of a resigned sadness, but leading
appropriately enough to the anticipation and joy of the following sonata.

I am not sure that I agree with the part of Letzbor's essay in which he
implies that the listener's being "seized" by the mysticism and religious
message of the Rosaries is necessary to best fulfill the intent of his
performance, but it is clear that he feels this music deep in his own
roots and being.  In that, his listeners can only be the beneficiary of
his efforts.  No problems recommending this one.

Bill H.