Il Furibondo Back

Early eighteenth-century musical life in London was dominated by two remarkable figures. One was the celebrated composer Handel, but it is the other whose nickname lends itself as the title of this concert. Il Furibondo (the wild man) was the formidable Italian violinist, composer, teacher and writer, Francesco Geminiani, who was so described by his contemporary and compatriot Guiseppe Tartini.

Born in Lucca, Tuscany, in December 1687, Geminiani talent on the violin was evident from a young age when taught by his father, and he later went on to study with that famous master Archangelo Corelli in Rome. It is also believed that Geminiani studied composition with Alessandro Scarlatti whilst he was Leader of the Opera Orchestra in Naples. Geminiani’s close associations with these eminent Italian musicians is significant as many of the18th century’s finest composers, including Handel, were visiting Rome and Naples during this era when Italian music was becoming increasingly popular across Europe.

Then, as now, Londoners had an enthusiastic interest for foreign art and culture, and so many a virtuoso from abroad found a warm welcome and thriving music scene in this city. Handel moved to London in 1710, followed by Geminiani in 1714.

The London Handel Orchestra, which was established by Denys Darlow in 1981, draws together some of London’s finest baroque musicians to perform in the annual London Handel Festival. Adrian Butterfield, a professor of Baroque violin at the RCM, and harpsichordist Laurence Cummings, currently direct the LHO who were joined this evening by soprano Julia Doyle.

A concerto grosso by the concert’s title composer opened the evening’s program: op.2 no.6 in E minor. Led by Butterfield on the violin, silken warm strings captured the rhapsodic character of the first adagio and the recitative countenance of the second. The contra-directional lines for violins I and II during the first allegro, as well as the offbeat rhythms of the second, were played out with clearly pronounced phrasing, animated gestures and joyful relish by Butterfield with Clare Salaman.

Concerto Grosso op.3 no.8 in D major, composed by Geminiani’s pupil Michael Festing was the next item on the program. With its prominent violin I solos this piece, chosen by Butterfield, this had the feel of a violin concerto, complete with an ample displays of violin gymnastics. The fast movements featuring fiery runs in the higher registers, as well as rapid string crossing, were thrillingly performed with a vibrancy evoking the spirit of Geminiani’s virtuosic influence.

A visit to 18th century England’s musical life would hardly be complete without opera, and indeed the program included a delightful choice of arias from Handel’s operas Arcina, and Ariodante, and also two delightfully silly arias from John Frederick Lampe’s The Dragon of Wantley. These were sung by the soprano Julia Doyle, a rising star who is fast establishing her solo career as a specialist in baroque repertoire. Just a few of Doyle’s highlights have included: performances of Handel’s Israel in Egypt with the Concertgebouw Amsterdam, English Baroque Soloists and John Elliot Gardiner, Purcell’s The Fairy Queen with the Salzburg Mozarteum and Roger Norrington), and acclaimed recordings such as Lutoslawski Dwadziesci Koled for Sony BMG, with the BBC SO and David Zinman.

For this concert Doyle sung a selection of roles linked with Cecila Young (later Mrs Arne), another pupil of Geminiani who was one of the greatest sopranos of her time. We were told by Butterfield that she was particularly famous for her ‘fine shake’ – that is her ability to sing thrills. In her first appearance on stage, Doyle sung for us: ‘Tornami a vagheggiar,’ and ‘Ama sospira, ma non t’offende,’ from Alcina. The opera relates the complicated and doomed love lives of two sorceress sisters, Morgana and Alcina, that live on an island full of Alcina’s former conquests who have been turned into plants, stones and animals. The first aria comes at the end of Act 1, when Morgana triumphantly sings of her love for Ruggerio whom she believes has fallen for her. Doyle enchanted us with the beautifully clear tone of her voice as she smilingly thrilled effortlessly up and up on the words ‘amar’ and ‘caro’. Changing mood for the next aria, taken from Act 2, scene 5, we heard a woeful Morgana sing about her sister and Ruggerio’s troubled romance. There was seamless connection between the instrumentalists and singer as the ritornellos and recurrent violin I refrain evocatively interweaved, as if voicing the unsung emotional tensions of the scene.

Bringing the first half of the concert to dancing end, the LHO performed Corelli’s concerto grosso op. 5 no. 3 in C major (an arrangement of Corelli’s violin sonata no.3 made by Geminiani). There were more fiery runs as the violins chased through the allegros, whilst a gentler and warmer touch produced some captivating moments during the adagio before abandon returned at last in the form of a joyful jig.

A violin concerto from another of Geminiani’s pupils, Charles Avison, began the second half of the concert. Avison, who remained in London for only a few years before returning to his home city of Newcastle to serve as a church organist, is a valuable reminder of the English musical scene alive beyond the capital. Although classified as a violin concerto, op.4 no. 1 in D minor, rather like the piece by Festing, verges on being a concerto grosso. The LHO managed to capture the expressive, gravity piece of this piece while maintaining a sense of momentum, giving the menuetto affettuso an air of sad mingled with nobility.

Following this, we came to what the program notes described as the ‘jewels in the concerto grosso crown,’ Handel’s op. 6 set, which was composed in just one month! From this, the LHO performed no.12 in B minor. A stylistic difference between those concerto grossi by Geminiani and his students, and this by Handel, was tangibly clear right from the grippingly foreboding opening largo in which the harpsichord could be heard solemnly ringing through the texture of the ensemble. Where as Geminiani’s influence seemed to perhaps highlight the element of virtuosic display, in Handel’s concerto grosso there seemed to be greater emphasis on creating dramatic effects with the whole ensemble. For instance: the lovely interchanges between first and second violin, as well as between solo and tutti sections, throughout the first elegantly bright allegro before the mood becomes sweet yet passionate during the larghetto in E major. The unusual diminished seventh harmonies of the largo interlude were sensuously brought out by the LHO, and then we were straight into the fugal allegro in B minor. Its quirky dotted rhythm subject is taken by sections of the ensemble in turn and then together, at times contrasted against legato runs.

The final part of the program was dedicated to arias taken from popular operas of the early 18th century. The first two songs were from John Lampe’s burlesque opera, The Dragon of Wantley. The story centres on the dramatics of down-to-earth villagers who have to defend themselves from a troublesome dragon. As if this wasn’t enough, the hero must also contend with two prime donne! Singing the role of Margery (originally sung by Cecilia’s sister Isabella Young), Doyle’s delivery of the absurd text in a suitably pitiful and languishing manner really brought out the humour of such lines as:
‘But to see the children mutter,
when they’d lost their toast and butter…’
‘…scrambling for a Barley-cake,
Oh! ‘twould make one’s Heart to ache.’
Demonstrating the witty brilliance of Lampe’s writing, the mocking and satirical effect was completed as the strings repeatedly echoed the vocal refrains as if in sympathy for the characters’ plight. Indeed, The Dragon was the 18th century’s most popular burlesque opera after The Beggar’s Opera!

Changing character from a frivolous prima donna to an indignant and angry heroine, Doyle brought the program to a close with her final aria, chosen from Handel’s Ariodante. ‘Neghittosi, or voi che fate?’ is from the role of Dalinda, yet another part once sung by Cecilia. The song is her outpourings against the heavens for their indifference to her predicament, having been tricked and betrayed. Here outbursts of lighting erupted from the violins each time the Doyle sung the word ‘fulminate,’ to evocatively realise Handel’s use of picture painting.

The enthusiastic applause from the audience brought the performers back on stage for an encore piece: ‘Gentle Morpheus, Son of Night,’ from Handel’s Alceste. This sweetly serene piece, sung with poise and impeccable phrasing, ended the concert on a charmingly tasteful note.