Longo, Ferroni, Cilea: Controluce

Description

One of the many myths of musical historiography which need – at least – revising, if not outright dispelling, is the one regarding Italian instrumental music between the Baroque and the contemporary era. After centuries of splendid flourishing, with the likes of Frescobaldi, Corelli, Vivaldi, Scarlatti – to name but a few – and up to Clementi, it may seem that the Italian culture of instrumental music had turned itself into a Sleeping Beauty for approximately one and a half centuries. During that enchanted sleep, so the tradition goes, opera absorbed and exhausted all the creative energies of Italian composers.
As said, this is a myth, or – to remain in the domain of Sleeping Beauty – a fairy tale; as all myths or fairy tales, it does contain a grain of truth, but is far from representing the whole picture. The true aspect of the story is that the operatic craze did really conquer the hearts and souls of most Italians in the long nineteenth century; and it is evident that the Italian peninsula gave the world some of the finest operas ever during that hundred or hundred-and-fifty years. Certainly, furthermore, the enthusiasm elicited by opera (even in terms of social and political life!) was unmatched by the interest in instrumental music.
However, by no means were these phenomena universal, or without exception. First of all, there are several composers who wrote mainly or only instrumental music and who achieved universal fame, even during that period of seeming silence – Paganini is the first name which comes to mind, but there are many others, for instance among guitarists, or organists such as Morandi whose complete organ works are being issued by Da Vinci. Secondly, many operatic composers left important works also in the field of instrumental music: among them one could count Rossini, with his piano works; Verdi’s and Puccini’s compositions for string quartet; etc. Thirdly, especially toward the end of the nineteenth century, a new generation of composers looked favourably to instrumental music and began composing major works in all of its genres.
This Da Vinci Classics album encompasses four works by three Italian composers whose masterly ability and genius are worthily represented by their music. One of them is best known for one of his operas, and is in fact normally counted among the Italian operisti (Francesco Cilea); however, as we shall see, Cilea’s operas brought him both success and sorrow, and his response to the fiasco of his last opera encouraged him to turn his attention to other musical genres. The others, as we shall presently see, are prized for their output in its most varied forms.
Another trait shared by all of these composers is their common provenance from Southern Italy. The Peninsula achieved its political unity only in 1861, despite many centuries of ideal cohesion, marked by a commonality of language (notwithstanding its many dialects) and culture. However, its unity was undermined by what was known as questione meridionale, i.e. the different degree of industrialization and education found in its northern and southern regions. Southern Italy had been the cradle of Italian culture, from the Greeks’ time onwards; it had known moments of glorious flourishing, witnessed by the magnificent architectures and artworks which punctuate it, and by the rich literary and musical heritage it transmitted. Furthermore, it was and still is a land with a blessed climate, whose effects include the cultivation of delicious fruits and vegetables, and, consequently, the foundation of the “Mediterranean” lifestyle.
However, at the time of Italy’s unification, the principles held by the northern regions, and heralded by the Savoy monarchy, were not unanimously shared in the South; there were ample regions where analphabetism was normal; there were pronounced social tensions embodied by the phenomenon of brigandry and other similar problems.
In spite of this, the great cities of the Italian South were still harbours of high culture and artistry; in particular, the Conservatory of Naples – which had inherited the glorious tradition of the Neapolitan Conservatories, the Southern equivalent of the Venetian ones – was a haven of musical creativity, where countless important musicians studied, taught, performed, and composed. The Conservatory of Naples thus represented a focal point for all those with musical interest and genius coming from the regions south of Rome; the city under the Vesuvio became a true capital of musical culture.
Alessandro Longo’s example is paradigmatic. He was born in the region of Calabria (the “Boot’s tip”) in a musical family. His father, Achille, was a piano teacher, and he played the organ in the Franciscan Friars’ church. Furthermore, he was a wind-band conductor: indeed, the reality of wind-bands was particularly important for the creation and dissemination of musical culture (being also favoured by the Italian climate, encouraging open-air musical practices). Achille provided his son with the first musical education; at fourteen, the boy left his native land to study at the Conservatory of Naples. At that institution, he was welcomed in the class of legendary Beniamino Cesi, considered as the founder of the Neapolitan piano school. Alessandro’s fellow students were Giuseppe Martucci, Florestano Rossomandi, Cesi’s own sons (Napoleone and Sigismondo), and Ernesto Marciano: together, these six pianists became the pillars of that school. Longo also studied composition with Paolo Serrao, and graduated in piano and organ.
At 33, he became professor of piano at that same Conservatory, where he would remain stably until 1934. Ten years after his retirement, during the dreadful period of World War II when all young males were fighting, Longo was asked to assume the directorship of that same institution, which he would maintain for the remainder of his life – just one year, since he would die in 1945.
In the musical world, Longo’s name is mainly associated with that of Scarlatti. Longo was proudly patriotic, although he would not fall into the traps of Fascism. When instrumental music was dominated by the Germans, he wished to show that Italy had produced musicians of primary importance; and just as Germany was championing the rediscovery of Bach, he wished a similar attention to befall on Scarlatti. Thus he edited (with late-nineteenth-century editing criteria) the complete Sonatas by Scarlatti, and had them published, thus actively contributing to his rediscovery. For decades, prior to Kirkpatrick’s catalogue, Scarlatti’s Sonatas were identified by Longo’s numbering (L.).
Longo was also an expert in piano technique, and he propounded the classical principles of the “Italian” style of articulation (one highly indebted to harpsichord technique). He wrote treatises, compilations for technical proficiency (many of which are still in use today), and fostered the musical development of the next generation of musicians (such as Tito Aprea, Paolo Denza, Lya De Barberiis, Franco Alfano).
His interest in early music is revealed also in his Suite recorded here, which comprises a Prelude, Intermezzo, and Finale. It is a brilliant and varied work, where Longo’s skill in understanding the idiosyncratic features of both instruments is revealed; his vein for noble melodies and refined harmonization, along with his contrapuntal thought, are also evidently shown. The composer himself played this work in a concert organized by the Conservatory of Milan, and whose programme was entirely made of his own compositions, on March 11th, 1900.
Vincenzo Ferroni is less known today. He was born in Basilicata; his father, a tailor, encouraged his two sons in their musical studies – Vincenzo began his musical life as a horn player and Domenico as a violinist. In 1870 the family emigrated to Uruguay, but four years later Vincenzo, then aged sixteen, clandestinely returned to Europe and went living in Paris. At nineteen, he was admitted at the Conservatory; his student years were extremely hard, but he easily earned the faculty’s approval and admiration as a talented and hard-working young man. In particular, Ferroni attracted the attention of Jules Massenet, who mentored him and promoted his works enthusiastically. Claude Debussy was his fellow student, and after his graduation Ferroni remained in the French capital as a teacher and composer. He won a composition competition organized by Le Figaro Illustré with his Hymne d’un pâtre lydien, and this success encouraged the Italian institutions to try and convince him to return to his homeland. In 1887 he was the winner of a chair of composition at the Conservatory of Milan; this also encouraged him to write operas such as Rudello, on the story of troubadour Jaufré Rudel. Other works in his catalogue were performed internationally, and conductors such as Mascagni and Martucci were happy to premiere them. He had also a religious vein which he expressed with some sacred works, dedicated primarily to the Virgin Mary. His Violin Sonata is a major achievement, where numerous themes and colourful atmospheres blend successfully to create a fascinating musical texture.
Francesco Cilea is the best known among the three composers represented here, and little needs to be told about his biography. Originally from Calabria, he studied in turn at the Conservatory of Naples with Beniamino Cesi. After the success of his graduation opera, Gina, he was commissioned further operas by Sonzogno; if L’Arlesiana was partially acclaimed (but he would constantly return to its score, ceaselessly revising it), Adriana Lécouvreur became one of the most successful operas of his time. Gloria, perhaps too modern for his era, was not appreciated as it would have deserved, and, after its meager success, the composer abandoned the operatic domain for concentrating on the concert stage. His Suite is a brilliant composition, which he would later arrange for violin and orchestra; here too reminiscences of ancient musical styles blossom into novel forms of creativity. His Theme with Variations bears witness to the fecundity of his inspiration and to his skill in thematic elaboration, as well as to his ability in composing for two very different instruments.
Together, these works are a welcome reminder that the Italian instrumental tradition was alive and kicking when, allegedly, it should have been just a Sleeping Beauty. A Beauty it was, but it was very much awake.
Chiara Bertoglio © 2025