David Starobin. Bridge Records Bridge 9567.
By Bill Heck
This is getting to be a habit: several of my recent reviews have explored lesser-known corners of classical music, finding interesting and delightful works in unexpected places. (I apologize to the dedicated and knowledgeable musicians for whom the corners are well-known, and the places expected, but I believe that I speak for many readers here.) Well, not to bury the lede: here we go again.
Wenzeslaus Thomas Matiegka is hardly a household name today, but in the burgeoning classical music scene of early 19th century Vienna, it certainly was. Born in rural Bohemia (then part of the Hapsburg empire) in 1773, he moved to Vienna, the city of Beethoven and Schubert in 1800, starting as a piano teacher. Matiegka quickly adopted a new instrument and blossomed into one of the city’s most influential composers for guitar – this at the time of a guitar craze in the city.
Multiple musical threads and trends were coming together in Vienna in the early part of the century, say 1800 – 1830: the influence of Beethoven, and before him Mozart, is obvious, but there were plenty of other composers, including names such as Mauro Giuliani and Anton Diabelli – yes, the Diabelli of Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations. (And there was Schubert, but sadly he was little known to the public at the time.) But in addition to Vienna’s status as a hotbed of compositional talent, music publishing as an industry was really getting rolling, and musical instruments were evolving into the forms that we see today.
On the guitar front specifically, I quote from a private communication from my friend, John Finn: Multi-movement sonatas are very important in 19the century guitar music literature. There are not many, and they are the jewels of the repertoire. Giuliani, Carulli, and Sor wrote both single movement (single pieces in sonata allegro form, or sinfonia) and multi-movement sonatas (complete with an allegro in sonata form and one to three following movements, following the pattern of Hadyn and Mozart). These composers were inventing “classical” guitar to make the instrument relevant to the art culture of their time. This was vital for these musicians because the physical guitar had just evolved (in the late 18th century) from the five-course [string] guitar of the late Baroque to the six-string “modern” guitar we all know and love. Matiegka was among these inventors.
The public may sometimes associate “classical guitar” solely with Spanish composers and musical traditions. While it is true that many Spanish and Latin American composers have written for the guitar, and that there have been superb guitarists from both regions, the works here demonstrate that the instrument also drew the attention of musicians across Europe and beyond, with both compositional and performing practices based on the broad traditions of western classical music.
Fascinating as this background is – and we have barely skimmed the surface – it is time to move on to the album itself, which gives us six of the Matiegka’s twelve published sonatas. Once I settled in to listen, my reaction to the first piece was that it was competent, workmanlike, historically interesting – but for modern ears, what was all the excitement about? The second sonata came along, bringing some more interest, but it was in the third sonata where the music truly came to life: harmonically more adventuresome, rhythmically complex. By the end of number six, I felt as though I had taken a metaphorical musical tour of courtly proceedings, country festivals, and outbursts of song and dance, with both good fun and a dose of imaginative counterpoint along the way, capped with a visit to the coming land of full-blown Romanticism. Were these all really by the same composer?
A clue to the nature of the progression is provided by the sequence of keys: C natural, then its relative minor (A minor), then G major….ending in D major and B minor. Matiegka was a teacher, after all, not to mention a working stiff who needed to sell his compositions, so perhaps he was presenting works to be played – not necessarily by beginning students but rather by intermediate and up performers – that increase in difficulty and, not coincidentally, in musical interest. A second clue is on title page of the score: Six Sonatas Progressives pour Guitare: Matiegka clearly meant these works to be more challenging as one went along. While most listeners will not care about the pedagogical or financial issues, they should be aware that, musically speaking, things get better…and much better…and still better as you go along.
By Bill Heck
Wenzeslaus Thomas Matiegka is hardly a household name today, but in the burgeoning classical music scene of early 19th century Vienna, it certainly was. Born in rural Bohemia (then part of the Hapsburg empire) in 1773, he moved to Vienna, the city of Beethoven and Schubert in 1800, starting as a piano teacher. Matiegka quickly adopted a new instrument and blossomed into one of the city’s most influential composers for guitar – this at the time of a guitar craze in the city.
Multiple musical threads and trends were coming together in Vienna in the early part of the century, say 1800 – 1830: the influence of Beethoven, and before him Mozart, is obvious, but there were plenty of other composers, including names such as Mauro Giuliani and Anton Diabelli – yes, the Diabelli of Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations. (And there was Schubert, but sadly he was little known to the public at the time.) But in addition to Vienna’s status as a hotbed of compositional talent, music publishing as an industry was really getting rolling, and musical instruments were evolving into the forms that we see today.
On the guitar front specifically, I quote from a private communication from my friend, John Finn: Multi-movement sonatas are very important in 19the century guitar music literature. There are not many, and they are the jewels of the repertoire. Giuliani, Carulli, and Sor wrote both single movement (single pieces in sonata allegro form, or sinfonia) and multi-movement sonatas (complete with an allegro in sonata form and one to three following movements, following the pattern of Hadyn and Mozart). These composers were inventing “classical” guitar to make the instrument relevant to the art culture of their time. This was vital for these musicians because the physical guitar had just evolved (in the late 18th century) from the five-course [string] guitar of the late Baroque to the six-string “modern” guitar we all know and love. Matiegka was among these inventors.
Fascinating as this background is – and we have barely skimmed the surface – it is time to move on to the album itself, which gives us six of the Matiegka’s twelve published sonatas. Once I settled in to listen, my reaction to the first piece was that it was competent, workmanlike, historically interesting – but for modern ears, what was all the excitement about? The second sonata came along, bringing some more interest, but it was in the third sonata where the music truly came to life: harmonically more adventuresome, rhythmically complex. By the end of number six, I felt as though I had taken a metaphorical musical tour of courtly proceedings, country festivals, and outbursts of song and dance, with both good fun and a dose of imaginative counterpoint along the way, capped with a visit to the coming land of full-blown Romanticism. Were these all really by the same composer?
A clue to the nature of the progression is provided by the sequence of keys: C natural, then its relative minor (A minor), then G major….ending in D major and B minor. Matiegka was a teacher, after all, not to mention a working stiff who needed to sell his compositions, so perhaps he was presenting works to be played – not necessarily by beginning students but rather by intermediate and up performers – that increase in difficulty and, not coincidentally, in musical interest. A second clue is on title page of the score: Six Sonatas Progressives pour Guitare: Matiegka clearly meant these works to be more challenging as one went along. While most listeners will not care about the pedagogical or financial issues, they should be aware that, musically speaking, things get better…and much better…and still better as you go along.
As to the performances, readers of Classical Candor who may not have heard of Matiegka are more likely to have heard of David Starobin, a well-known and very influential classical guitarist with multiple Grammy nominations and various awards to his credit. Recently retired from the concert circuit, Starobin has not left the musical world; he remains active with teaching and writing and as head of Bridge Records.
In these works, Starobin’s playing is excellent. I would call it expressive but straightforward, not in the sense of uninvolved or uninteresting, but in the sense of playing the music as it was written without imposing odd or idiosyncratic effects. By the time we reach the later sonatas, the difficulty level has become significant, e.g., handling the dotted rhythms in the later sonatas or maintaining the multiple voices in the Scherzo of number 6, but Starobin sails through with no difficulty. The detailed and informative liner notes are by Paul Cesarczyk, who provides extensive background about Matiegka and musical Vienna. Finally, the sound of the guitar is well-represented, with natural-sounding reverberation from the hall (perhaps a church?) but not so much as to obscure the music.
Competition? There’s not much: a quick search turned up a total of four CDs or CD sets mainly featuring Matiegka’s music for guitar. Among these, the only other way to get all the Op 31 sonatas is on the Brilliant Classics complete works set (not evaluated here). Given the quality of Starobin’s playing, the excellence of the Bridge recording, and the quality of the music itself, the current disk would be worthwhile addition to the library of any classical guitar fan – or any lover of early Romantic music. My only “complaint” is that this album is rumored to be Starobin’s last, that he has retired not only from public but also from recorded performance. Might we persuade him to provide us with one more helping of Matiegka in some future project?
Special thanks to John Finn, an accomplished amateur guitarist and one far more knowledgeable than I about the goings-on for guitar in Matiegka’s time. John provided much of the information used in this review.
BH
