Alio Modo: When Scarlatti Meets Soler and Friends – A Classical Joyride You Didn’t Know You Needed
Let’s get one thing straight: Alio Modo isn’t your grandma’s dusty classical album (unless your grandma is secretly a harpsichord-loving badass). Released in 2019 by the Stradivarius label, this Italian gem dives headfirst into the Baroque and Classical worlds with Domenico Scarlatti as its ringleader. But wait—there’s more! Toss in some Soler, De Albéniz, De Albero, and López for good measure, plus Amaya Fernández Pozuelo tickling the harpsichord keys like a boss, and you’ve got yourself an album that feels both timeless and refreshingly quirky.
The whole thing has this “we’re doing fancy stuff but also kinda vibing” energy to it. Credit goes to Andrea Dandolo, who wore so many hats during production—art direction, recording supervisor, producer—that he probably needed a nap afterward. The cover art? A Louis-Michel van Loo masterpiece that screams “royal drama,” which fits perfectly because, let’s face it, these composers were basically the rock stars of their day.
Now, onto the tracks. With twelve sonatas and variations on deck, there’s plenty to unpack. But two numbers stuck out to me like mismatched socks in a laundry pile—both weird and wonderful in their own way.
First up: Sonata K 84 (R 413) In Re Maggiore: Allegro. This little firecracker kicks off with a melody so jaunty it practically begs you to grab a powdered wig and start waltzing around your living room. It’s playful without being obnoxious, intricate without making your brain hurt. If I had to describe it in three words, they’d be “sassy, clever, alive.” Listening to it feels like overhearing a witty conversation at a coffee shop—you can’t help but lean in closer.
Then there’s Variaciones Al Minué Afandangado, which is just begging to be turned into a TikTok trend. Why? Because it grooves harder than most modern pop songs while still wearing its Baroque heart on its sleeve. The piece twists and turns like a musical Rubik’s Cube, blending elegance with just enough spice to keep things interesting. Every variation feels like opening another door in a house full of surprises. By the time it ends, you're left wondering how something so old-school can feel so fresh.
Here’s the kicker about Alio Modo: it doesn’t try too hard to impress you. Instead, it lets the music speak for itself, with all its quirks and flourishes intact. That’s rare in today’s world of overproduced everything. And maybe that’s why it sticks. Or maybe it’s because listening to harpsichords makes me feel smarter than I actually am. Who knows?
Final thought: If aliens ever land and ask us to explain human creativity, handing them this album might not be a bad idea. Sure, they’d probably prefer Beyoncé, but hey—at least we tried.
