The “proibita” of this CD’s title comes from the Catholic Church: For most of the first 10 years of the 18th century, dramatic performances in theatres, believed to be places of evil and immorality, were banned in Rome. What were guys like Alessandro Scarlatti, Caldara, and Handel to do? Well, they composed oratorios–unstaged dramas on religious (or quasi-religious, i.e., moral and allegorical) subjects–and they wrote arias for them that are as showy and difficult as any they might have penned for the stage. The music is well worth unearthing and is presented here with inspiration, dedication, and passion by soloists and orchestra.
One of the remarkable things about this CD is that it is perfect fodder for those who adore as well as detest Cecilia Bartoli–rarely is there an artist who can arouse such contrary emotions in her audience. Her rapid-fire coloratura, accurate and manic at once, her barely audible cooing through soft passages, her breathy delivery, and her biting emphases on key words all have their appeal and at the same time contain such tics that they can make some people scream. It is startlingly self-conscious artistry, but it is most assuredly artistry.
The opening aria on the CD, a call for peace in the name of Jesus, is in fact a dazzling martial air with trumpets blaring and the voice going through an amazing array of coloratura fireworks. It shows Bartoli at her most aggressive. The listener is practically hurled back from the speakers when she begins, with runs and trills and cascades of notes, all perfectly in place. Showy arias are offset by several tender ones, such as “Lascia la spina” from Handel’s Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno (which four years later returns in the composer’s Rinaldo, as the now-famous “Lascia ch’io pianga”), and Caldara’s “Aria di Santa Eugenia” from Il Trionfo dell’Innocenza, in which Bartoli exhibits her many, many levels of pianissimo and sensitive phrasing. Then, in Handel’s “Come nembo che fugge col vento” she yelps and wheezes in a manner that makes you want to run–all, of course, to the dramatic good. Marc Minkowski and his Musiciens are just right for this repertoire, and they back Bartoli up superbly. This is a fascinating project and has great merit, but if ever an artist’s style were a matter of taste, this is it. [10/20/2005]
