REVIEW:

Thankfully, as presented here by the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra, this is no one-to-a-part, minimalist realization. I should probably have mentioned well before getting this far into the review that this recording, originally released on Sony Classical, was made at a time, 1997, when period-instrument ensembles still had more than four or five players on their payrolls. Thus, the performance here includes 11 violins, three violas, three cellos, two double basses, three bassoons, contrabassoon, four horns, three trumpets, timpani, and harpsichord continuo. So, for all intents and purposes, the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra sounds like a modern-instrument ensemble, which, from my perspective, is a good thing.

This is a wonderful disc, and not just for Handel lovers. The music is invigorating, splendidly performed, and exceptionally well recorded. I recommend it to everyone.

— Fanfare

Boris Begelman, the highly acclaimed leader of Concerto Italiano, frequently takes on the role of soloist in the many concerts that Rinaldo Alessandrini’s celebrated orchestra devotes to the music of Vivaldi and his contemporaries. High time then for Begelman to take centre stage in one of the Vivaldi Edition’s solo violin recordings. This ninth concerto volume sees the welcome return of Rinaldo Alessandrini’s ensemble, which already features in thirteen albums of the Vivaldi collection. In this purely instrumental repertoire they excel as much as they do in vocal music, deploying generously sweeping melodic lines, inspired dynamics, and a musical language already mastered to perfection yet always interpreted anew.

“After several decades of debate, it is now firmly established that the Art of Fugue was composed for harpsichord. The notation on four staves could lead to confusion and wrongly suggest that the work was intended for an ensemble of four instruments. But this scheme of notation for a keyboard instrument was not uncommon in the past (e.g. it was used by the Italian Girolamo Frescobaldi in his Fiori Musicali), as it facilitates the visualization and grasp of each individual voice's progression and beauty. I am convinced that played appropriately and with artistic integrity, the piano can serve Bach's music superbly. In this recording I have played entirely without pedal so that the splendour of the contrapuntal lines is fully rendered. In some cases, for instance an appoggiatura, the piano allows for perfect imitation of a form of vocality, like a singer following the tonic accents of a language and pronouncing one syllable more quietly than another. The harpsichord can only imitate this by agogic inflections, by playing in an irregular rhythm. Some vocally inspired passages can therefore sound magnificent on the piano.“ (Eloïse Bella Kohn)

How would have Bach composed if he had had access to modern instrumentarium: a violin with Tourte’s bow that produces a higher volume of sound, a trumpet with an entire chromatic scale or a contemporary grand piano? Would he be inspired by the art of virtuosos of today, such as the Leipzig ensemble of Collegium Musicum, as he was known to have composed for distinguished artists? Would he forgive pop or computer game composers for using his music? How would he judge changes in the key of pieces, which played a vital role in the intellectual and emotional rendition of music according to Baroque rules? Or else, would he adjust to the vibe of our epoch and make use of samples instead of real performers? In any case, he would definitely appreciate the interpretations by Jaroslaw Nadrzycki, Krzysztof Kaczka and L’Appasionata, a Verona-based chamber orchestra. The energy that these young musicians display while playing Bach’s pieces would certainly match the composer’s spirit. If we observe Bach’s portraits for which he would pose in a dignified wig as we listen to his grand music, we might think that Bach was a placid and serious man. Yet not once did his contemporaries have to cope with his fits of anger or turbulent character; on the contrary, he must have also been high-spirited and humorous, which we may deduce from his numerous pieces.

The musicians of the Berlin Baroque Soloists, who for the most part are members of the Berlin Philharmonic, are well known to Radek Baborák from his time as solo horn player of the orchestra from 2003 to 2010. “That is why the recording with the Berlin Baroque Soloists was not such an unusual project,” says Radek Baborák, “but it was a dream of mine to play something by Bach with this ensemble, which plays modern instruments. Some eight years ago, we played together in a program of works by Telemann and Zelenka. That was a thrilling time. What particularly appealed to me about my colleagues was that for all their concentration on the work in hand, they still had a relaxed approach. They were orientated towards historical performance practice, but without the dogmatic rigor that one sometimes finds in specialist ensembles.” To make his dream come true, and drawing on his encyclopedic knowledge of Bach, Radek Baborák trawled the composer’s works. He comments: “I am not a musicologist, in the first place I am a musician. When I find something I like, I use it for my purposes. If the material is robust – and it always is with Bach – it doesn’t matter what you play it on: the harpsichord, the organ, with strings, with choir, it will always sound good.”

Musical anniversary celebrations have inevitably been curtailed in 2020, and overshadowed by Beethoven, but Giuseppe Tartini was renowned throughout Europe as the pre-eminent genius of the violin – not only as a performer but as a composer of works which demonstrated his extraordinary gifts, and as a teacher who welcomed students from across Europe to his home in the north-Italian city of Padova, where they learnt every sophistication in the art of violin playing; not only virtuoso trickery but the sustaining of a true legato like a great singer. Tartini’s concertos have laid down the gauntlet to great violinists down the ages, even if many of them have been forgotten and only recently revived. Now Giulio Plotino joins their number, selecting three of the best-known concertos to complement what is still Tartini’s best-known work, the ‘Devil’s Trill’ Sonata whose title and fearsomely intricate figuration was apparently inspired – almost diabolically dictated – by a dream of the composer’s. The concertos chosen for this recording, from among the 125 or so in the Dounias catalogue, conform to the traditional quick-slow-quick construction. In contrast to the Vivaldian template, however, Tartini integrates the material of the opening tutti within the solo passages, and shuns passagework of sequences even in the outer movements, but most particularly in the solemn and tender slow movements, where Tartini the technician gives way to Tartini the singer and the maestro di capella, composing for himself and his ensemble to accompany the liturgy.

This fascinating set provides a refreshing window onto a much studied, much idolized, and oft performed master of composition, allowing many of his familiar works to appear in a new light, recognizable and yet transformed. Bach’s music is often described as indestructible, in the sense that no matter how it is performed, or in whichever arrangement, its essential spirit survives. Many of the transcriptions included here represent the work of contemporary, world-class performers bringing Bach’s masterpieces into the repertoire of their own instruments or ensembles, thereby giving new timbres to the genius of Bach’s contrapuntal lines. The much-loved Goldberg Variations, for example, are given not one, but two new arrangements, as the interwoven voices for keyboard are divided between the members of a string trio and a recorder quintet. Others are scholarly reconstructions of concertos for what might well have been Bach’s originally intended instruments – versions that were subsequently lost to future generations.

From 1729 Bach directed the Leipzig Collegium Musicum, an association consisting of students and musical citizens, and for his performances with them Bach needed to provide secular works. But his time was largely absorbed with writing sacred music for St Thomas’s Church in his role as Kantor. So Bach devised harpsichord concertos by adapting concertos he had originally written for other instruments. Musicologists believe that the seven works known today as Bach’s concertos for solo harpsichord were initially composed as violin or oboe concertos. A third category included here might be called Bach transcriptions by 20th-century “giants”. The great Dutch harpsichordist Gustav Leonhardt arranged for the harpsichord various major works by Bach – five from solo violin works, three from solo cello suites and two movements from a partita for solo flute and a suite for solo lute respectively. These are classics of the arranger’s art, refined and thoroughly idiomatic.