From Cd

Sonata II - Andantino  417 Kb

Sonata III - Allegro  588 Kb

Sonata II - Rondo  593 Kb

Sonata V - Non tanto Allegro  1 m

In the most recent studies on 17^th and 18^th century Italian instrumental music, the character of what could be defined as a proper Neapolitan school of violin is emerging in greater evidence, represented by Gian Carlo Cailò, Pietro Marchitelli, Nicola Matteis, Angelo Ragazzi, Nicola Fiorenza, Michele Mascitti, and the two Barbella brothers.These are musicians whose activity took place over more than a century, from the 1670’s to the end of the 1700’s, and who legitimately belong to the group of Italian instrumentalists and composers who, with their research, marked important stages in the progress of violin technique, contributing to keeping instrumental music alive in a society increasingly dominated by the development of operatic melodrama. One of the most interesting figures of this group is Emanuele Barbella, originally trained by his father Francesco, composer and “Master of String Instruments” at the Conservatoire of S. Maria di Loreto. After the premature death of his father in 1733, Barbella continued to practice violin with Angelo Zago and Pasqualino Bini (student of Tartini), also studying composition with Michele Caballone, Leonardo Leo, and, probably, with Father Martini in Bologna. In 1753 he became lead violin of Teatro Nuovo in Naples, and three years later he entered into the service of the Neapolitan Royal Chapel; starting from 1761 he played in the orchestra of Teatro S. Carlo, also teaching at the Conservatoire of S. Onofrio. Charles Burney, who got to know Barbella during his stay in Naples in October 1770, spoke of him as the “kindest human being that I’ve ever known”, blessed with a character which was as “sweet as the sound of his violin”.

Most of the reputation enjoyed by Barbella, both during and after his epoch, derived precisely from the opinions of Burney, whose respect for him was accompanied by some reserve, above all with regard to his playing style: “If he was more brilliant, if he gave more voice to his instrument, if his style was more varied, his way of playing would be irreproachable, and maybe superior to most European violinists”; on the other hand, his judgement on the composer was rather favourable: “He knows music well, his compositions are rich in imagination and have a stamp, not at all displeasing, of rare eccentricity”.

The works of Barbella had a certain diffusion in Europe, given that, between 1762 and 1774, ten of his collections of sonatas, duets and trios were edited in Paris and London – the two major centres for the publication of chamber music in the third quarter of the century. These compositions, together with others which remained as manuscripts, mostly met the expectations of the public of the time, which asked for simplicity and agreeableness; but the occasional harmonic surprises and calling on folk motifs – characteristics in which one can maybe find the influence of the Tartini school from which Barbella descended -  also brought that wave of “rare eccentricity” noted by Burney, that could have represented an attractive aspect for the most cultured and up-to-date public.

In fact, such a refined connoisseur as William Hamilton, British Ambassador at the Bourbon Court, was the greatest protector and appreciator of Barbella in Naples and probable intermediary with the London editors. To him were dedicated the Six Trios for Two Violins and Violoncello, published in London by Welcker in 1772; compositions that typify the evolutionary phase of a genre widely cultivated towards the end of that century (amongst others by Haydn and Boccherini), precisely for what today we regard as its transitional nature. In these trios by Barbella the prescription of violoncello in place of the more ambiguous “basso”, would seem to fit into the larger phenomenon which by then was seeing the genre break away from the trio sonata; but the presence of numbers in the ’cello part represents the opposite possibility, not justifiable only on the basis of the editorial praxis which, for obvious commercial reasons, continued to maintain the numeric abbreviations of the basso continuo, even when a keyboard instrument wasn’t really requested. The sometimes quite wide distances between the parts, the recurrent indications of “tasto solo” corresponding to notes played by the bass, the almost orchestral feel of certain pages, let us believe that the harpsichord is still necessary here. To counterbalance this conservative aspect, there is writing which appears in line with the prevailing trends of those years, not only for the secure formal choices but also for the simple and melodic breath of the scoring. The collection presents an evident homogeneity in the writing: the distribution of the roles sees the 1^st Violin as protagonist, sometimes accompanied by the other two instruments, at other times engaged in brief dialogues with them; the structure is still in three movements, with a constant succession in respect of which only the 5^th trio is an exception (opening with a larghetto, which is followed by a broad central allegro with a sparkling character, and finally a soft andantino). The initial movement is always the most complex, with a bipartite form and a harmonic progression that leads towards the dominant at the end of the first section, returning to the tonic for the repeat of the opening theme; corresponding to the symmetry of this structure is a syntactic rhythm, animated by recurrent irregularities and asymmetries. The other two movements are, in general, simpler and less surprising: the central movement (larghetto or andantino) privileges an affectionate and discreet melodic line; the final movement, in the form of a rondò, unwinds through brief and incisive phrases. In all these pages Barbella declines the conventions of the Gallant style with a vitality that appears to be steeped in the spirit of the Neapolitan Opera Buffa, and yet tends towards a euphony which is purely instrumental: the shortage of melodic inventions, the very scarce presence of ornamentation, the occasional dynamic effects, the humoristic ideas, are always balancing on the boundaries laid out by Tartini’s rule of “good taste in accordance with nature”.

Pier Paolo De Martino  - Egidio Mastrominico -

Translated by John Dean