Paisiello Giovanni - Passione di Gesu Cristo (Diego Fasolis) [2007]

Giovanni Paisiello, whose works Mozart thought enough of to study closely, was mostly forgotten in the nineteenth century, and this "Passione de Gesù Cristo" remained buried until 1998. This is its second recording; a Polish version on the Arts label, from that year, is also available. The oratorio's text is by the preeminent operatic librettist of the eighteenth century, Pietro Metastasio. One can easily understand why the work has never had a critical mass of general listeners, but for those interested in Mozart's world it's truly fascinating. This passion story features neither Jesus nor Pontius Pilate, nor any of the other usual personages. Instead it takes place after Christ's crucifixion, recounted by St. John, Joseph of Arimatea, and Mary Magdalene (in surely her biggest part until "Jesus Christ Superstar" came along) to St. Peter, with the accompaniment of a chorus of Christ's other followers; in the second part, all bewail the corruption of Jerusalem and look forward to Christ's resurrection. This setup does more than provide the opportunity for operatic grief, although there is plenty of that. Metastasio's libretto was set by various composers, including Salieri and Niccolò Jommelli, whose version was probably even more vocally flashy than Paisiello's own. But even with Paisiello, the music is either unsatisfactory or instructive, depending on your point of view, in that it has none of the concessions to the traditions of sacred style found in Mozart (with the restrictions he faced in Salzburg and the later contrapuntal tendencies of his music) or Haydn (over whom loomed Handel's example). It is pure opera. Sample Mary Magdalene's aria "Vorrei dirti il mio dolore" (I would tell you of my pain), CD 1, track 8, to get an idea of what you are getting into as a buyer here. But it is not just the operatic style that makes the work intriguing – it is Metastasio's conception and Paisiello's response to it. The hearer of this work is experiencing the Passion story in a secondhand way that tells you a lot about the late eighteenth century and its peculiar brand of faith, which was formalized, compartmentalized, and aestheticized. The performances here are among the best in CPO's catalog, and Swiss conductor Diego Fasolis, best-known for his Bach recordings, makes the transition to Classical-period music more easily than many other Baroque-oriented musicians, and those who have not yet had the chance to hear his frequent collaborator, soprano Roberta Invernizzi, should take this chance to do so – she is heard in the role of Peter, for a SATB solo configuration. Surely this rather curious work is not an essential possession, but this is a fine recording that helps bring the world of the late eighteenth century alive. ~ James Manheim, Rovi All Music Guide

Well traveled and skillfully epigrammatic, Giovanni Paisiello had an affection for the texts of the Italian court poet Metastasio, whose given name of Pietro Antonio Domenico Trapassi could serve as the basis for four characters in a romping family comedy. Himself a rascally, spiritual, secularist, Paisiello was one interesting blend of a man, someone whom I’d venture would have been fine company for a bumper of wine. These days, what credit he gets as a composer tends to center on how Mozart, in his early years, was moved by Paisiello’s Neapolitan creations, with their skillful restraint and judicious coloratura, later finding at least part of his inspiration for Le nozze di Figaro in Paisiello’s version of Il barbiere di Siviglia. A born careerist, Paisiello made his way from Sicily to Russia and back again, in search of his next windfall and comfortable post, running out on Catherine the Great at one point—with a year’s worth of future wages in his pocket—and double-dealing King Ferdinand IV back in Naples. If ever a composer deserved to be the subject of a picaresque novella, it was Paisiello, who also—as you will hear with this set—was a master of shearing the musically inessential from what was paramount to a piece’s success and its identity as a cohesive balance of text and setting. And while his name may sound like the conflation of some blood-borne disease and a comic book villain, Metastasio was often as not the court poet one turned to if you were a composer of Paisiello’s generation—and the generation before, in fact, given Metastasio’s especially lengthy life by the standards of the time. Having approached him early in his career in the aim of having a text written to order, Paisiello was rebuffed, but in 1783 decided that with Metastasio’s quasi-liturgical text there for the taking, why not have a go?
Beginning with a string movement that proceeds through a series of bellows—as though delicate answers to delicately posed questions—Diego Fasolis establishes a mood of reflection, which is quickly doubled by the sopranos and their hushed, halting, but clearly inquisitive and open, vocal introductions. You know the cast of characters by now: Mary Magdalene, a chorus of disciples, John and Peter as both initiates and servants of arguably history’s most important philosopher. The piece, intriguingly, has the feel of a secular work, in opposition to the arch religiosity that typically accompanies this kind of undertaking, and that I think even the most dogmatically minded must regard as oppressive. Ornamentation without representation, if you want to throw some Colonial symbolism into the mix, more the music of angels than the common man and where he might see himself in the work. No such worries with Paisiello, nor this presentation of his Passione, which pulses with energy and an intimation that adventure is afoot. Additional delights—a flute embellishing the lightest violin stirrings, for example—reveal themselves with each listen, almost as much as a tribute to the sound quality as the playing itself. Anyone interested in branching out to hear another Passione that perhaps affords more insight into Paisiello the composer and his various identities than it does into this given work, should hunt down Arts Music’s version with the Warsaw Symphony and Wojciech Czepiel conducting. You might see it as pan-Neopolitanism with Slavic attributes. – FANFARE: Colin Fleming