Classical music is, whether you like it or not, often used as a tool by many a listener. It’s made apparent by playlists and compilations like “relaxing classical” or “dinnertime classical.” But here’s something I find particularly curious — when it comes to both productivity and leisure, baroque’s the genre that pops up over and over again, whether as inspiration in the boardroom or balm in the bathtub. Its efficacy for improving your life isn’t in question here; rather, the query is: “who.” These lists are dominated by Bach, Vivaldi, and, if the authors are feeling particularly adventurous, Handel or Telemann. This is revealing, unintentionally or not — as far as pop culture is concerned, “Who is baroque?” is embarrassingly limited.
Hopefully, the aptly-titled album from Augusta McKay Lodge, Beyond Bach & Vivaldi: Rare Unaccompanied Works for the Baroque Violin, can shake things up.
McKay Lodge has put together a collection of solo violin works by criminally underperformed and under-remembered composers, the most recognizable of which might be Arcangelo Corelli, and even then the East Side Gentleman has only one piece on the set (the third movement of a violin sonata, Op. 5, No. 6 to be exact). Nicola Matteis, Pedro Lopes Nogeuiria, and Johann Georg Pisendal dominate the baroque power hour, an unimpeded tour of dexterity on McKay Lodge’s noble instrument.
Conceptually, the idea of solo violin music that isn’t by Bach or Vivaldi is broad, and so of course, the tone of these pieces, as a cohesive collection, is wide-ranging. While scattered priorities and sounds is usually a knock on an album, in this context it acts as a kind of ultimate sample platter, giving your ears a deeper taste of what they thought they already knew. It explains why McKay Lodge can open with the ethereal arpeggios of Matteis’s “Alia Fantasia,” find herself in the energetic dances of Thomas Baltzar a few selections later, take a turn with John Walsh compilations that are no longer than 90 seconds long, and close out the program with von Biber’s lyrical Passacaglia in G Minor.
This album appears to exist thanks to the necessity of circumstance. Clearly, lots of us are attracted to the sound of the violin in this setting — it’s a simple explanation of the enduring popularity of Bach’s sonatas and partitas, which have been recorded countless times. But McKay Lodge’s set was released on Naxos — a label that has demonstrated a reluctance to dip back into repertoire they’ve already recorded. Releasing another Bach collection would be warmed-over turkey; McKay Lodge venturing outside of Johann’s time and space and bringing something new to the party is a smart move. For those of us that have heard a lot of Bach but relatively little Locatelli, this collection is like a musical bonus round — a discovery of deleted scenes, post-credit goodies. Although they shouldn’t be relegated to the back of the music bin.
Kudos to the producers and engineers, too. Beyond Bach & Vivaldi sounds bright and colorful and expressive — McKay Lodge’s violin is a reminder of why this kind of music can be so golden and so delicious when consumed with a bang-up pair of speakers. “Intimate” might be overused in this context, but we’re talking about solo violin here: it’s just you and the instrument. The violin is speaking with a clarity that makes it impossible not to focus on the sounds being coaxed out of it. That’s a wonderful experience, and the reason I wouldn’t suggest putting it on as background music to get you through the work slog. McKay Lodge’s performance is begging you to listen to what the music has to say, to engage with the art of folks we might have forgotten. And if you don’t give it all the attention it’s due, you’re liable to feel a tiny bit guilty.