This recording brings into conversation two of Vivaldi’s motets — one sacred, one secular — alongside a contemporary setting of the Stabat Mater. The pairing is intentional. In Vivaldi’s writing, the boundary between sacred and secular expression is often permeable; both are animated by a vivid sense of drama and emotional urgency. Placed side by side, these works trace a shared expressive language across differing contexts, revealing how intensity, ornament, and narrative unfold in both devotional and theatrical forms.

Although my own work draws upon Baroque forms and gestures, it does so from a different center of gravity. Where much of this repertoire reflects an instrumental imagination — shaped by motion, brilliance, and gesture — my own approach begins from the voice, from breath, line, and the inflection of text. These are not opposing perspectives, but parallel ways of inhabiting the same expressive world, each revealing its own path toward clarity and intensity.
Yet for me, this language was not discovered abstractly, but in a moment of immediate, almost visceral recognition.

My first encounter with the “Alleluia” from In furore iustissimae irae was electrifying. Its virtuosic vocal line, propelled by relentless energy and brilliance, carries a kind of fire that feels almost elemental. That intensity — direct and unyielding — resonated deeply with my own musical instincts. While my Stabat Mater does not seek to mirror that same level of virtuosity, its most heightened moments, particularly in the Inflammatus, draw upon a similar sense of urgency and propulsion.

If In furore embodies fire, then Cessate, omai cessate offers a different but equally compelling kind of drama. Its unfolding feels almost operatic in scope, shaped by an arc that moves through tension, anguish, and release. This sense of continuity — music as narrative — proved a powerful point of inspiration. In approaching the Stabat Mater, I was drawn not only to the text itself, but to the drama contained within it: a libretto of striking poignancy and clarity, whose verses seem to invite musical shaping.

The origins of my Stabat Mater trace back to 2016, when I conducted Gioachino Rossini’s setting of the text. Immersing myself in the hymn revealed its openness, 20 verses that have inspired widely varied interpretations across centuries. No single setting feels definitive; each offers a distinct lens through which to encounter the text. That sense of multiplicity — of tradition coupled with freedom — remained with me.

The idea took clearer form following a performance I conducted at Merkin Hall in New York, featuring Vivaldi’s Gloria and the “Alleluia” from In furore iustissimae irae. In the wake of that concert, I began to imagine a work that would engage the Baroque idiom not as a style to be reproduced, but as a living language — one capable of sustaining a contemporary voice while retaining its essential clarity and sense of line. From this impulse emerged a 21st-century Stabat Mater.

While the text centers on Mary’s suffering at the Cross, my setting approaches that grief through a distinct dramatic lens. The work was conceived for three male voices — countertenor, tenor, and bass — with the countertenor embodying Christ while simultaneously giving voice to Mary’s lament. In this recording, however, the upper line is sung by mezzo-soprano Daveda Browne, whose voice — rich in its lower extension and shaped by a warm, resonant depth — preserves the intended expressive weight while offering a distinctive and compelling color. The tenor, Scott La Marca, and bass, Justice Yates bring a lyric sensibility that allows the work to unfold with intimacy rather than weight.

In contrast, the soprano writing of In furore iustissimae irae is realized here by Olanna Goudeau, whose bright, agile voice lends the music brilliance and lift. In the virtuosic passages of the Alleluia, as well as in more reflective moments, her sound seems to hover just above the ensemble. In Cessate, omai cessate, the mezzo-soprano returns in a more introspective role, shaping the work’s dramatic arc with warmth and depth.

The instrumental forces, drawn from the ongoing collaboration with the Bronx Arts Ensemble, reflect a similarly intentional approach to texture. The omission of the double bass from the continuo creates a more transparent sonority, allowing the vocal lines and text to remain at the forefront.

Beneath this clarity of texture lies a unifying structural idea. The number three serves as a unifying thread throughout the Stabat Mater, appearing in the vocal forces, instrumental groupings, and rhythmic structure, including the 3/8 meter of the “Inflammatus.” These elements reflect the three figures at the Cross, with Mary’s presence emerging as a distinct and often solitary voice.

Composed between February and April 2025, the Stabat Mater was originally intended for performance on Good Friday. It received its premiere on May 8, 2025, at the Church of St. Philip Neri, followed by a second performance at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Structured in seven movements and spanning approximately fifteen minutes, the work moves between moments of stillness and intensity, tracing an emotional arc that mirrors the text itself.
From moments of quiet suspension to passages of heightened intensity, A BAROQUE FANTASY: DIALOGUES WITH VIVALDI invites the listener into a space where past and present meet — not in imitation, but in dialogue.

– Courtney Carey

Courtney’s Stars of Tomorrow
This project was made possible through the generous support of Cecilia Morris. Additional funding for the recording was provided in part by The Alice M. Ditson Fund.

Support for the live performances was provided in part by the New York State Council on the Arts.

Bronx Arts Ensemble
This program is supported, in part, by public funds from the New York City Council, Councilmember Eric Dinowitz, District 81 Assemblymember Jeffrey Dinowitz, NYC Department of Cultural Affairs, and New York State Council on the Arts.
Additional support is provided by the Howard Gilman Foundation.