title: Nobody would go wrong with this version if there weren't better ones, and as cheap

text:
A recording licensed from ASV, whose original edtion is here, [[ASIN:B000025RUW Flötenkonzerte]]. Published in 1991, it offers a fine version of Vivaldi’s popular Opus 10 cycle played on transverse flute and modern strings, whose only limitation is that even better ones have been published, before (Camerata Köln, [[ASIN:B00000E6VA Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op. 10 - Camerata Köln [Deutsche Harmonia Mundi]]], but that version isn't exactly comparable, as it is of the original versions in the form of chamber concerti, and played on recorder) and after (the incomparable Il Giardino Armonico, also the original versions played on recorder, [[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]. The main reference on transverse flute and modern strings is the recording of Emmanuel Pahud with the Australian Chamber Orchestra, from 2005 [[ASIN:B000DZ6VWS Flute Concertos]]. There’s an excellent version also with modern strings with the Cologne Chamber Orchestra conducted with dynamism and zest by stalwart Helmut Müller-Brühl on Naxos, [[ASIN:B00005RVO8 6 FLÖTENKONZERTE]], but flautist Daniel Rothert plays them also on recorders, and only Op. 10 No. 4 on the transverse. And the versions on period instruments are too numerous to mention).

Here the Allegros are usually played with commendable dynamism and energy, although usually not as much as in those other versions – the two framing movements of Tempesta di Mare are a good case in point: they are not shameful, even better than many, but Il Giardino Armonico, Pahud’s Australian Chamber Orchestra have brought more tempestuousness to the music, and Müller-Brühl more drive and excitement. The basses of the Orchestra of St. John’s are a bit boomy, making the tutti sound a bit thick and depriving them of some bite, but a nice touch is that the first violin part is often attributed to the solo instrument, in unison or in dialogue with the solo flute. Bassoon in the continuo is a discreet but welcome presence, adding character and crispness. Exceptions to the rule of nicely or reasonably dynamic Allegros are are the opening movement of No. 5 - but hereVivaldi’s indication of “Allegro ma non tanto” makes it a customary option to play it very moderato, and it is beautifully tender that way also (and the Finale of the same concerto is played with exciting vivacity), and the first movement of Op. 10 No. 6, in which the tutti trudge musingly and without vigor.

Largos don’t drag sentimentally, but there is more imagination, bite, and hence tension and drama in the string accompaniment in the Largos of Tempesta and Notte with Il Giardino Armonico or Sébastien Marq and Jean-Christophe Spinosi ([[ASIN:B000076H2W Recorder Concerti: La Notte]]), and even Pahud’s Australian Chamber Orchestra – Lubbock’s St John’s Orchestra plays the notes, but only the notes, where they interpret the notes and play beyond the notes. But the cantabile of Gardellino and the Largo Cantabile of No. 5 flow nicely, with a beautiful bareness to the latter, with the continuo reduced to punctuations of cello.

Stallman’s flauting is spirited in the Allegros, and he adds imaginative, profuse and beautiful ornamentation the Largos of Il Gardellino, No. 4 and No. 6, more discreet in the Largo cantabile of No. 5. The ornamentation in the Largo of Il Gardellino is particularly exquisite – I’ve never heard ornamentation there that evoked as much as Stallman’s a bird’s cooing, and he even adds a cadenza with wild chirping at the end of the Finale. He also ornaments occasionally in the Allegros, and I regret that he doesn’t do it more, because whenever he does he offers some beautiful flights of fancy.

As a complement, Stallman offers the concerto RV 441, listed as a concerto for recorder in Peter Ryom’s now authoritative Vivaldi catalog, but played here at the transverse flute as was customary in a time when the 1948 catalog of Marc Pincherle ruled, which designated it as a concerto for “flauto”, with some uncertainty as to which instrument exactly Vivaldi had in mind. Stallman’s and Lubbock’s reading lacks again a touch of dynamism in opening Allegro and plods in the Finale, and the effect is elegant and laid-back, not particularly exciting. There’s no great drama either in the perfunctorily tossed off orchestral introduction of the Largo. Things are better in the solo unfolding, with a bare dialogue of flute and cello, and nice ornamentation from Stallman.

Nobody would go wrong, and in fact everybody would go right with this version of the Opus 10 concertos if it was the only one available on the market. But it’s a vast and competitive market and there are better ones. My first choice for the Opus 10 on transverse and modern strings is Pahud, and at the time of writing it sells as cheap as this one on the marketplace – and you can hardly get cheaper than that. I'll keep Stallman for his ornamentation.


title: predictably Messiaenic

text:
The problem with the Ondes Martenot is that it seems to be limited to two typical sounds – the mystical appeal to heaven, eyes rolled upwards and fingers clinched together, or the goary sci-fi or horror movie when the Martians land on earth or Dracula rises from the tomb (which is little more than the electrical version of the musical saw) – and Messiaen has explored them all.

Jacques Charpentier was a pupil of Messiaen and, say the liner notes, his music was strongly influenced also by a trip he made to India in the early 1950s - just like Messiaen earlier in his Turangalila-symphony. So maybe it’s not surprising that his works for Ondes should break no new grounds, be strongly reminiscent of Messiaen and not make you discover anything you didn’t think you knew already about the instrument. And adding the organ doesn’t help, as that too is an instrument that Messiaen has branded of his seal. The first composition on the disc runs a very long 45 minutes – and only one cue ! – and its title announces it all: “Tu es Pierre et sur cette pierre je bâtirai mon église”, which is from Matthew 16:18 (with a play on the greek words Petrus = Peter and petra = rock, which translates easily into French, Pierre = Peter and pierre = rock, but not in English and which makes it incomprehensible in the English standard version, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church”. King James should have called Peter “Rocky”) but sounds very much also like a title Messiaen would have been likely to use (but, apparently, never did).

I had just attended a concert of Ondes Martenot and electronics which made you discover new ways of making the instrument sound and, when I went to the record shop a couple of days later, they were selling for quite cheap the great and rare 4-CD set of Charpentier’s masterwork for piano, Etudes Karnatiques, by Anne Gaëls on Disques DOM, not listed here as I write but it's on the French sister company, ASIN B0000285ZD – which I didn’t buy because I have it already, and wouldn’t know who to offer it to – and this one. So I thought I’d give a try to Charpentier as a composer for Ondes. Disappointement. Oh yes, at 14:48 he explores the “bassoon” register of the Ondes, but it lasts only a few seconds, and around the 29-minute mark, after a long, motionless meditation, something dramatic happens to wake you up, like the clouds opening up and the light of God descending upon you – but it’s still that kind of sound and atmosphere, and after three minutes it’s over (yes, God’s presence on earth is always very short, and then it takes mankind one or two thousand years to make sense of it). And just as the flower in the desert feeds on the smallest drop of water, the big and long crescendo which unfolds over an organ ostinato after a pause at 34:50, followed at 39:30 by a big climax ending at 41:05, is okay – again, nothing that isn’t predictable, but at least it’s moderately dramatic. Stèles, a 17-minute piece, again for Ondes and organ but adding a soprano voice singing four phrases of André Malraux, offers little relief – it too has dramatic moments, but from the organ; the Ondes is its usual Messiaenic self, and the voice’s melismata imitate the Ondes. The words are incomprehensible without text, liner notes and text are in French only, obviously the producers didn’t think there was a market for this outside of France, and they were probably right.

This is a record for those who can’t get enough of Messiaen’s Catholic mysticism – and of his scoring for Ondes Martenot. But if you want to discover Jacques Charpentier, try Etudes Karnatiques, it’s a great cycle, unjustly unknown, it should be as famous as Messiaen’s Vingt Regards, and I see that a new version has been recorded, by Michael Schäfer on Genuin, [[ASIN:B009AJR5WS 72 Etudes Karnatiques Pour Piano]]. I’ve already clicked on the “buy” icon.


title: & 1/2: the Pro Arte edition of a pionneer and trail-blazer, surpassed by his successors

text:
First, the product image is false. Obviously Amazon has used here an image uploaded by a customer, and it is for this recording alright, but not for this edition and label. This entry is for barcode 015095022929, which is Pro Arte CDD 229, released in 1986, and the correct front and backcover images are those I've uploaded with this review. What is used by Amazon as its cover image is in fact for RCA Red Seal RD 70951, also released in 1986, barcode 0035627095122, whose legitimate entry is here, [[ASIN:B00004SNJI Vivaldi: 6 Flute Concertos Op. 10]]. Pro Arte had licensed that recording for distribution in the US even since the LP release, in 1980, and obviously the licensing agreement was still running.

And the music, then. This is not exactly the cyle of 6 flute Concerti op. 10, as it was published ca.1728 by Amsterdam publisher Michel-Charles Le Cène, that Brüggen and consort play. Five of these six concertos exist in previous and alternative versions, including four as Concerti da Camera or chamber concertos: No. 1 “La Tempesta di Mare = RV 98 (instead of RV 433), No. 2 La Notte = RV 104 vs 439, No. 3 Il Gardellino RV 90 vs 428 and No. 6 RV 101 vs 441. The main differences are in orchestration, the chamber versions being based more on an interplay of solo instruments, especially oboe, bassoon and solo violin with flute/recorder, rather than, as in the full concerto versions, pitting the solo trransverse flute against strings and continuo, and for that reason I find the chamber concertos way more interesting. Just to give one example, the finale of RV 428, the “full- concerto” version of “Il Gardellino / The Bullfinch”, for flute and strings, is simply no match to the voluble chirping together of flute (or recorder) and oboe, pitted against violin and bassoon of RV 90. Some movements are different too, as the Largo and Finale of Tempesta di Mare, but for some obscure reason reason Brüggen plays not the Largo of RV 98 but a conflation of RV 433 and RV 98. In various Allegros, as those of Il Gardellino / The Bullfinch, the op. 10 versions are abridged. In the case of op. 10/5 aka RV 434, its original version is RV 442, scored for recorder and not transverse flute. So RV 435/op. 10 No. 4 is the only one that exists only in the form published in the Opus 10 collection.

Brüggen was the first one, in 1979, to return to those earlier versions. Of course, it is not entirely appropriate then to refer to these works as “opus 10”, but that doesn’t matter much. Another observation to be made is that the chamber character of the pieces doesn’t derive only from their instrumentation, but also from the kind of instrumental lineup utilized: even the “full-concerto” versions of RV 435 and 442 acquire a chamber-like character, when they are played with a limited body of strings: here it’s one a part, plus the continuo. Nowhere is this more in evidence than in the first movement of RV 438, the only one for which there is no other version, which Brüggen turns, at times, into a sonata for flute and two violins, and I find it more convincing and ingratiating that way than when played with a larger body of strings. Since Brüggen, I am aware of three more that returned to the earlier versions: Michael Schneider and Karl Kaiser (alternating recorder and transverse) with Camerata Köln on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi in 1988 ([[ASIN:B000026HA2 Vivaldi: Flute Concertos op. X]]), Il Giardino Armonico for Teldec in 1990 ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]), and one that I haven’t heard, the Tokyo Bach-Mozart Ensemble on Denon from 1991 ([[ASIN:B0000034VC Vivaldi: 6 Concerti for Traverse Flute (Denon)]]). There may have been more that I missed, but most other ensembles, even period-instruments, play the concertos op. 10 as published.

While much is still valid in Brüggen’s  readings from 35 years back, as ground-breaking as he was back then, he now tends to sound his age. The combinations of instrumental timbres register with great color – but this is, in view of what came after, a very gentle version, and the choice of tempos often verges on the trudging. If, in the “Tempest at Sea”, you want a storm like the one which Wagner thought he’d die and which inspired him to write Fliegende Holländer, go to Il Giardino Armonico. Brüggen’s is playful, non aggressive, a cozy regatta by gentle or moderate breeze, 3 or 4 on the Beaufort scale. There are nice colorisitc touches in the slow movements of “La Notte” (track 2), the bassoon always registers with great character and sauciness, but the spectres (“Fantasmi”, 1:37) are more an exciting ride than, as with Il Giardino, a frightening nightmare, and likewise with the two other Allegros (3:10 & 6:07). The opening chirping cadenza of the bullfinch (track 3 at 0:28) has plenty of character, but tempos in the two Allegros trudge, which is not without (rustic) character (although possibly better suited for Michel Corrette than for Vivaldi), but doesn’t picture a very excited birdy. Brüggen’s Finale of the RV 90 is bullfinch engaging into courtly and distinguished wooing of the oboe – Il Giardino Armonico is Casanova or Don Giovanni in the harem. But the middle lento, reduced to the bare dialogue of flute and bassoon, is beautiful – other ensembles, and that includes, alas, Il Giardino Armonico, have filled the bass line with harpsichord or lute continuo, apparently not realizing that the wistful beauty of the movement comes from the very bareness of the textures – and Brüggen adds tasteful ornamentation in the repeats. Character but more moderate to trudging tempos again in the framing Allegros of RV 435 (No. 4), and too bad Brüggen doesn’t ornament at all in the middle Largo. It is true that the opening Allegro of No. 5 (RV 435) is temperered by the indication “non molto”, but, despite the felicities of his one-to-a-part approach (see above), Brüggen takes it so moderato that he makes the music sound like a music-box: not without character again, but not a very exciting character either. But, as in Il Gardinello, the very bareness of the middle Largo is quite beautiful, and the Finale is played with vivacity and verve. And I find that No. 6 RV 101 fares well particularly well. The thumping continuo in the Largo and the progressive acceleration of the finale until the final deceleration of the coda, are two great imaginative touches.

Still, even limiting yourself to those versions that have adopted the original versions, Camerata Köln and, at the top of my own pantheon, Il Giardino Armonico, have brought these works more colors, more verve, more dynamism, more imagination, more excitement. TT 53 minutes. Other than, possibly, price (that's a transient factor on the marketplace), one advantage of the Pro Arte edition over RCA's is that each movement is cued - RCA offered only one cue per concerto. I hear no significant sonic difference between both editions. Seon USA has also issued this recording, but with welcome complements, for a total time of 77 minutes, [[ASIN:B0000029VR Vivaldi: Concerti for Flute, Strings and Basso continuo, Op.10, Nos. 1-6; Marcello/Platti: Concerti for for Oboe, Strings and Basso continuo]] or [[ASIN:B000024ZIP Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op.10]] (but the latter has again the wrong product image, corresponding to the original European RCA issue without complements).

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title: 2 minutes are great - the rest was stylistically hopelessly passé even when it came out 35 years ago

text:
Hans-Martin Linde recorded this program of Vivaldi recorder and flute concertos in 1978, and it shows. He later became, in the 1980s, an early champion of period-instruments with his Linde-Consort – but in 1978 he wasn’t there yet. It’s not mainly the fact that he plays with a modern chamber orchestra, the Prague Chamber Orchestra (which he also conducts). Others since have done that, in nonetheless "historically informed" performances, and they are great (see my review of Emmanuel Pahud's recording of the Opus 10 concerti, [[ASIN:B000DZ6VWS Flute Concertos]]). It’s that Linde's tempos are always, in view of what came later, a bit too plodding, his strings a bit too thick, his expression not jubilant and dynamic enough – and it starts with the opening Allegro of RV 429, track 1 (here listed according to its now out-of-use Fanna catalog number, FVI:10 – for the reissue EMI might have taken the pains to give us the modern Ryom catalog numbers by which Vivaldi’s works are now designated): Linde doesn’t lack spirit, but go to Pahud, who plays it as a complement to his Opus 10, and hear the verve, the dynamism, the ebullient joy that makes this Concerto one that would have been worthy of those assembled in the famous Opus 10 collection. Heard after Pahud’s Australian Chamber Orchestra, Linde’s Prague strings are thick and plodding. But worse comes soon: the impossibly dragging and lachrymose tempo adopted in the Andante – “Andante”, e.g. “moving along”, Linde doesn’t even have the excuse of a “Largo” indication! – not relieved by Linde’s timid ornamenting in the repeats. What did he have in mind, some kind of courtly French pavan? The Finale is a little more animated, but still joyless compared to Pahud or Janet See, [[ASIN:B000027O0K Vivaldi: Flute Concertos]].

The antiphonal exchanges between first and second violins don’t register at ll in F.VI,4 = RV 443 (tracks 10-12), and, despite Linde’s saucy sopranino recorder, the Allegros plod impossibly, with a joyless air of solemnity. But the middle Largo, despite again a continuo that is too thick and an instrument that’s a bit too piercing for the movement’s meditative and wistful poetry, is quite effective, with very imaginative and beautiful ornamentation.

RV 435 e.g. Op. 10-4 (tracks 4-6) is played with a nonchalant elegance, even a touch of laziness – this is Vivaldi for the aristocratic court, and the French court of Louis 15 rather than Venice’s doge, I’d say. But for Vivaldi at Carnival, go to Il Giardino Armonico ([[ASIN:B000024ZIP Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op.10]]) or Camerata Köln ([[ASIN:B00000E6VA Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op. 10 - Camerata Köln [Deutsche Harmonia Mundi]]]). But there is true poetry and beautiful ornamentation in the middle Largo. In RV 434 / Op. 10-5 (tracks 7-9), despite Linde’s fine ornamentation, tempos trudge again, strings and continuo sound thick, elephantine even in the middle Largo. At least the finale is played with vigor, vivacity and plenty of verve.

In the chamber concerto RV 108, it’s not so much Linde’s very pedestrian tempos again in the Allegro, because if you don’t have in your ears all the others who have been way more exciting there, you might not be bothered. But that Linde uses as accompaniment the full body of strings, entirely belies the chamber concerto nature of the work, scored for recorder, two violins and continuo. Back in 1966 Jean-Pierre Rampal played it with transverse flute rather than piccolo, but the accompaniment was suitably lean and tempos way more lively ([[ASIN:B0000026YG Vivaldi: The Flute Concertos]]).

With Rampal, as well as Severino Gazzelloni with I Musici ([[ASIN:B0000041F2 Vivaldi: Complete Flute Concertos]]) already on the market back then, all this was stylistically passé even when the LP came out in 1979. But with all that, the middle Largo of RV 108 has, other than the nicely flowing tempo and Linde’s fine ornamentation, one great touch that would all by itself justify keeping this disc: the two violins are played not “arco” as indicated and as everybody else does, but pizzicato, and the effect is wonderful, poetic, pensive and melancholic. Possibly Linde was inspired here by Vivaldi’s indication on the manuscript of his mandolin concerto RV 425, that “the violins can play pizzicato” – and the mandolin concerto with violins playing pizzicato suddenly goes from a nice but ordinary work to one of Vivaldi’s most sublime inventions (about this, see my review of Il Gardino Armonico’s recording, [[ASIN:B000000SK4 Vivaldi: Concerti per Liuto e Mandolino]]); same here. But that's 1:59 minutes of music.

Linde uses a number of instruments – one dubbed “Flöte” which I understand is the transverse, in RV 429 (F.VI-10) and 435 (Op. 10-4), soprano recorder in 434 (Op. 10-5) and RV 108 (F XII-11), sopranino recorder (playing an octave above the soprano) in 443 (F VI-4). In Ryom's catalog RV 434 appears however as a concerto for transverse flute, but there is a previous and companion version for recorder, RV 442, in which, supposedly, the middle Largo is one tone below the version for transverse published in the Opus 10 collection; but every recording that I've heard claiming to play RV 434 or 442 play exactly the same concerto, in the same key. Anyway, given the ambiguity of many indications of Vivaldi and the uncertainty about which instrument exactly he had in mind, and the greater timbral similarity of 18th century recorder and transverse, flautists have always considered that choice was theirs, depending on the character they wished to convey in the respective pieces, and I have no objection.

This reissue was made in 1990 by German EMI (EMI Electrola) on their budget series “Meisterwerk” – no liner notes, no modernization of the old and out-of-use Fanna catalog listings, the booklet’s inside pages just list the other issues in the collection. On top of all that, TT is a stingy 43 minutes. But given the interpretations, and despite the Largo of RV 108, better too short than too long. Buyer’s choice if the 2 minutes of the Largo of RV 108 and the few other fine Largos justify paying the price of this CD.


title: elegant and undisturbing background music

text:
Jean-Pierre Rampal was a pioneer of Vivaldi’s Opus 10 Flute Concertos. His first recording – and the cycle’s recording premiere - was made for Vox circa 1950, with Louis de Froment conducting his own ensemble (reissued to CD by Tuxedo, [[ASIN:B00000DFMH Six Flute Cti Op 10]], or [[ASIN:B0000282H9 Sechs Flötenkonzerte op.10]], and also available in download form from Denon, [[ASIN:B00E8ASY1A Vivaldi - Six Flute Concerti]] or Musical Concepts, [[ASIN:B005EURVW6 The Young Rampal - Vivaldi Flute Concertos (VOX Reissue)]]). He then re-recorded it for Les Discophiles français, and with Karl Ristenpart’s Saarland Chamber Orchestra in 1954 (reissued on [[ASIN:B000XTLVNS Les Années Ristenpart /Vol.1]]), in, according to the contemporary reviews, much improved sound (and that LP was soon complemented by another one with other flute concertos). So this here is Rampal’s third go at the cycle, recorded with Claudio Scimone’s I Solisti Veneti in January 1966 by Erato. Of course, by then, Rampal wasn’t alone any more in the field, main competition coming from I Musici, first in 1958 with Gastone Tassinari (who had also previously recorded the complete flute concertos, for Vox, in the mid-1950s, with an ensemble called “I Musici Virtuosi di Milano” – not the same as “I Musici”, based in Rome), not reissued to CD, then in 1969 with Severino Gazzelloni (I'm sending the product links of all the non-Rampal versions mentioned in this review to the comments). Still, Rampal led the field for many years, and it’s not a coincidence that his recording with Scimone, complemented with two others (RV 429 and RV 441) were part of Erato’s early batch of CD reissues in 1986, ECD 88189 - this is it. Note that the version of the same Opus 10 Concertos published by CBS Masterworks in 1985, MK 39062, also with Scimone and I Solisti Veneti but with no fillers, [[ASIN:B0000025XQ Vivaldi: 6 Flute Concerti Op. 10]], is NOT the 1966 recording, but Rampal's fourth recording of the cycle. It is very similar in approach to 1966.

That said, things move on fast in the domain of interpretation, especially of early 18th century music, and once trail-blazers soon sound terribly dated. The first period-instrument ensembles started recording Vivaldi in the late 1970s - Harnoncourt’s Concentus Musicus Wien, Hogwood’s Academy of Ancient Music (who recorded the Opus 10 concertos with Stephen Preston in 1977), Pinnock’s English Concert (with Linda Beznosiuk in 1987) - and they were soon superseded by new ensembles emerged in the late 1980s and early 1990s, like (to limit myself to those who recorded the complete Opus 10 cycle, or its original versions in the form of chamber concerti) Camerata Köln (1988, chamber concerti versions) and Il Giardino Armonico (1990, also chamber concerti). In turn, those changes and advances in Vivaldi interpretation influenced even modern-instrument performers, as illustrated by Emmanuel Pahud with the Australian Chamber Orchestra in 2005 – an outstanding version.

And heard after them and a few others, Rampal and Scimone do sound terribly dated. Allegros often trudge terribly and orchestral textures are thick, as in the opening of La Tempesta di Mare (track 1) or the “Fantasmi” of “La Notte” (track 5), when not elephantine as in the Largo of No. 5 (track 15), where, to boot, the harpsichord sounds like scraping the teeth of a comb, or in the opening Allegro of The Bullfinch (track 8) where Rampal’s fluting also sounds non-committally elegant. Many Largos are nonchalantly elegant but not very evocative (as the one after “Fantasmi”, track 5 at 1:05, or the one of Opus 10 No. 4, track 12), more appropriate for galant French music for the aristocratic salon than for the Venetian Carnival. Rampal’s flute is playful enough in the opening Allegro of 10-4; but the orchestral support again lacks dynamism and verve and sounds a touch lachrymose, and there’s also a touch of sentimentalism I find in their phrasings in the Largo. Again string textures are thick rather than vigorous and punchy in the opening of 10-6. RV 441, one of the two complements here, is originally a work for recorder, but after all, the Opus 10 cycle, which is specifically designated for transverse flute, is often played on recorder; so why not the other way around. The opening Allegro is dynamic enough although string texture is again somewhat thick and, compared to the recorder, Rampal’s transverse is, well, elegant and “distinguished”, e.g. lacking character and sauciness. In the Finale the strings are impossibly thick and heavy.

What’s left? Oh, sure, a number of things: Rampal’s commendable effort at ornamenting; the robustness and welcome playfulness of the Finales of Tempesta di Mare (track 3), Opus 10-4 (track 13), Opus 10-5 (track 16) and Opus 10-6 (track 19), the vigor of the second Presto and of the Finale of La Notte (track 5 at 2:26 and track 7) and of the Finale of the Bullfinch (track 10), the unsentimental elegance of the middle Largo of the Bullfinch (track 9), the wistfulness and beautiful ornamentation of the Largo of Opus 10 No. 6 (track 18), the laid-back tenderness of the first movement of Op. 10-5 (track 14). There’s an affecting elegiac mood in the Largo of RV 441 (track 21), and great élan, almost frenetic even, in the first movement of RV 429 (track 23), which, together with RV 441, serves as a filler, and a gently flowing Andante – but the Finale is back to the impossibly plodding, alas, as if Rampal and Scimone had tried to change it into a “solemn” concerto.

But even with that, there’s more drive, more vigor, more imagination in timbres and phrasings, more evocativeness, and more excitement, in any of the versions mentioned above, and a few more on period instruments which I haven't mentioned. This is best reserved to those who prefer their Vivaldi clean, proper, elegant, and none too challenging, suitable for background music.

If (still) interested, check for availability and best price on the disc's subsequent reissues, same program on Erato when it was taken over by Warner, [[ASIN:B00000E8SX Vivaldi: Flute Concertos - Concerti Per Flauto Op. 10; Due Concerti per Flauto, RV 429-441 [Erato #2292-45401-2]]], on a cheap CBS twofer with the other flute concertos but in somewhat more opaque sound than Erato's transfers, [[ASIN:B0000026YG Vivaldi: The Flute Concertos]], and on later Erato/Warner reissues with two other complements from the complete flute concertos, RV 414 and RV 427, [[ASIN:B000005E8U Vivaldi: Flute Concerto Op. 10, Concertos RV 427 & 414]] or [[ASIN:B00I7V61IE Vivaldi: 8 Concertos for flute & orchestra]]. There's also a reissue of that on Warner's budget label Apex, ASIN B00009RAY7, but I'm out of authorized product links.


title: a version of the opus 10 concerti that can be easily recommended to those who’d find Il Giardino Armonico too high-strung

text:
Frédéric de Roos and the ensemble La Pastorella, recorded in 1997, play with fine poetry in the slow movements and great drive and energy in the fast ones – the lessons of Il Giardino Armonco have been well-learned ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]), although the ensemble isn’t recorded as transparently as Il Giardino Armonico: textures are somewhat thicker, dynamic contrasts and timbral invention aren’t as pronounced, which may be seen as a positive by many listeners: this Vivaldi isn’t as high-strung and aggressive as Il Giardino’s. Note that it’s not the Finale of Concerto RV 437 as published in the Opus 10 collection (No. 6) that they play, but its predecessor in the form of a chamber concerto for flute, oboe, violin and bassoon, RV 101 (but playing the other woodwind parts with strings), reinstating the cuts made for the Opus 10 publication. Not that I blame them: when they exist (in Concertos No; 1, 2, 3 and 6), those previous chamber concerto versions, based not on the opposition of the flute soloist and string accompaniment but on combinations of solo woodwind timbres, are way more interesting, and if a regret, it would be that Pastorella didn’t do like the ground-breaking Frans Brüggen in 1979 ([[ASIN:B0000029VR Vivaldi: Concerti for Flute, Strings and Basso continuo, Op.10, Nos. 1-6; Marcello/Platti: Concerti for for Oboe, Strings and Basso continuo]]), followed by Camerata Köln in 1988 ([[ASIN:B00000E6VA Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op. 10 - Camerata Köln [Deutsche Harmonia Mundi]]]) and Il Giardino Armonico in 1990, and play the original versions. It would have made their recording even more attractive than it is.

Given the tempi, De Roos’ recorder playing is virtuosic, and he adds imaginative ornamentation. Apparently he uses a variety of recorders, although which exactly is not specified – in La Tempesta di Mare, Il Gardellino and RV 435 / Op. 10-4, playing by ear, it’s the high-pitched, almost piercing sopranino recorder. As to why De Roos plays these works, specifically designated for the transverse flute in Michel-Charles Le Cène's Amsterdam publication from c. 1728, this is explained in the liner notes (the recorder and transverse flute, the latter much in vogue in northern Europe, were competing instruments in the early to mid-18th century), but anyway it has become common practice ever since Michala Petri's recording in 1980, [[ASIN:B00000E2UD 6 Concerti, Op. 10, for recorder, strings and continuo]]. In fact the liner notes, by De Roos himself, are by far the most informative and interesting I've ever read on the very blurred line between recorder and transverse in Vivaldi's scoring. Imaginative continuo, becoming somewhat too profuse, thick and trudging for the music’s own good in the slow movementy of Il Gardellino and there the dragging tempo doesn’t help. The movement should elicit a sense of pastoral nostalgia, even wistfulness, yes, but not at the expense the simple sense of moving. But that’s a very small proviso, and this is one of the best versions of the Opus 10 concertos (or their original versions) I’ve heard among a good dozen. It won’t replace Il Giardino in my affections and preferences, but it certainly takes second place (among a few others, like Camerata Köln’s on period instruments for the original versions and Emmanuel Pahud’s on modern instruments for the published Opus 10 concertos, [[ASIN:B000DZ6VWS Flute Concertos]]), and it is a version I can easily recommend to those who find Il Giardino Armonico’s Vivaldi too aggressive and high-strung, or, with Pahud's, as a "best" version of the published Opus 10 collection.

Indivudal movements not cued. TT is a short 49 minutes –  CDs with opus 10 sometimes add a couple of concerti, but not always. The recording has been reissued, together with de Roos’ recording of other Vivaldi concerti da camera with flute, on [[ASIN:B000HT3RT0 Chamber Concertos]] and [[ASIN:B0001MQKEW Vivaldi: Flute/Chamber Concs]].


text:
Frédéric de Roos and the ensemble La Pastorella, recorded in 1997, play with fine poetry in the slow movements and great drive and energy in the fast ones – the lessons of Il Giardino Armonco have been well-learned ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]), although the ensemble isn’t recorded as transparently as Il Giardino Armonico: textures are somewhat thicker, dynamic contrasts and timbral invention aren’t as pronounced, which may be seen as a positive by many listeners: this Vivaldi isn’t as high-strung and aggressive as Il Giardino’s. Note that it’s not the Finale of Opus 10 No. 6 e.g. Concerto RV 437 that they play, but its predecessor in the form of a chamber concerto for flute, oboe, violin and bassoon, RV 101 (but playing the other woodwind parts with strings), reinstating the cuts made for the Opus 10 publication. Not that I blame them: when they exist (in Concertos No; 1, 2, 3 and 6), those previous chamber concerto versions, based not on the opposition of the flute soloist and string accompaniment but on combinations of solo woodwind timbres, are way more interesting, and if a regret, it would be that Pastorella didn’t do like the ground-breaking Frans Brüggen in 1979 ([[ASIN:B0000029VR Vivaldi: Concerti for Flute, Strings and Basso continuo, Op.10, Nos. 1-6; Marcello/Platti: Concerti for for Oboe, Strings and Basso continuo]]), followed by Camerata Köln in 1988 ([[ASIN:B00000E6VA Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op. 10 - Camerata Köln [Deutsche Harmonia Mundi]]]) and Il Giardino Armonico in 1990, and play the original versions. It would have made their recording even more attractive than it is.

Given the tempi, De Roos’ recorder playing is virtuosic, and he adds imaginative ornamentation. Apparently he uses a variety of recorders, although which exactly is not specified – in La Tempesta di Mare, Il Gardellino and RV 435 / Op. 10-4, playing by ear, it’s the high-pitched, almost piercing sopranino recorder. As to why De Roos plays these works, specifically designated for the transverse flute in Michel-Charles Le Cène's Amsterdam publication from c. 1728, this is explained in the liner notes (the recorder and transverse flute, the latter much in vogue in northern Europe, were competing instruments in the early to mid-18th century), but anyway it has become common practice ever since Michala Petri's recording in 1980, [[ASIN:B00000E2UD 6 Concerti, Op. 10, for recorder, strings and continuo]]. In fact the liner notes, by De Roos himself, are by far the most informative and interesting I've ever read on the very blurred line between recorder and transverse in Vivaldi's scoring.  Imaginative continuo, becoming somewhat too profuse, thick and trudging for the music’s own good in the slow movementy of Il Gardellino and there the dragging tempo doesn’t help. The movement should elicit a sense of pastoral nostalgia, even wistfulness, yes, but not at the expense the simple sense of moving. But that’s a very small proviso, and this is one of the best versions of the Opus 10 concertos (or their original versions) I’ve heard among a good dozen. It won’t replace Il Giardino in my affections and preferences, but it certainly takes second place (among a few others, like Camerata Köln’s on period instruments for the original versions and Emmanuel Pahud’s on modern instruments for the published Opus 10 concertos, [[ASIN:B000DZ6VWS Flute Concertos]]), and it is a version I can easily recommend to those who find Il Giardino Armonico’s Vivaldi too aggressive and high-strung, or, with Pahud's, as a "best" version of the published Opus 10 collection.

Indivudal movements not cued. TT is a short 49 minutes –  CDs with opus 10 sometimes add a couple of concerti, but not always. The recording has been reissued, together with de Roos’ recording of other Vivaldi concerti da camera with flute, on [[ASIN:B000HT3RT0 Chamber Concertos]] and [[ASIN:B0001MQKEW Vivaldi: Flute/Chamber Concs]].


title: the version of these versions to have if Il Giardino Armonico is too much for you

text:
“Flute Concertos op. X – Original versions” says the disc’s cover. Meaning what?

Meaning that when circa 1728 Amsterdam publisher Michel-Charles Le Cène published Vivaldi's Six concertos for flute op. 10, five out of the six were reworkings of earlier compositions that came into being, most of them, as “concerti da camera”, Chamber Concertos: No. 1 “La Tempesta di Mare” RV 433, catalogued RV 98 in its earlier form, No. 2 “La Notte” RV 439/104, No. 3 “Il Gardellino / The Bullfinch” RV 428 / 90 and No. 6, RV 437 from RV 101. In the case of op. 10 No. 5, RV 434, its original form is as a Concerto for recorder, RV 442. So only No. 5, RV 435, exists only in the form found in the Opus 10 collection, and only it and No. 4 exist in “full-concerto” form only. So what Camerata Köln, recorded in December 1988, have done is to return to these original versions. They are not the first ones to have done so. The ground-breaking recording in that respect was Frans Brüggen’s, in 1979 ([[ASIN:B0000029VR Vivaldi: Concerti for Flute, Strings and Basso continuo, Op.10, Nos. 1-6; Marcello/Platti: Concerti for for Oboe, Strings and Basso continuo]]), and in turn Camerata Köln were followed very closely by Il Giardino Armonico, in 1990 ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]). I’m aware of one more, which I haven’t heard, by the Tokyo Bach-Mozart Ensemble on Denon from 1991, [[ASIN:B0000034VC Vivaldi: 6 Concerti for Traverse Flute (Denon)]].

The differences between the Opus 10 concertos and their concerto da camera predecessors are mainly in terms of instrumentation, with the “full-concerto” versions pitting solo flute against strings, while the chamber concerto versions are more about combination and dialogue of solo timbres, of flute, bassoon, violin and oboe, underpinned by continuo. That’s what leads flautist and leader of Camerata Köln Michael Schneider to write in his liner notes that “the change resulted in an only too noticeable loss of consistant timbre quality and expressive emphasis” – and I entirely agree. The full-concerto versions are quite beautiful in their own right – after all, all the melodic and coloristic invention, the buoyancy, the dynamism of Vivaldi are fully there – but the chamber concerto versions are SO much more interesting timbrally. In comparison, the Opus 10 Concertos sound almost like “reductions”.

Other than the orchestration, there are other differences as well in some individual movements. The middle Largo and Finale of Tempesta di Mare are entirely different. Usually the Allegros of the original chamber concerto versions are more extended than their opus 10 counterparts.

Now, “full concerto” vs “chamber concerto” doesn’t necessarily mean that one is an orchestral piece and the other a chamber piece. In the 1960s Julius Baker and I Solisti di Zagreb recorded the chamber concerto version of La Notte, RV 104, with full accompaniment of string orchestra, turning it into an orchestral double concerto for flute & bassoon ([[ASIN:B000K2NFFA Antonio Vivaldi: Concertos for Diverse Instruments]]). Conversely, play the “full-concerto” string accompaniment one to a part, as Camerata Köln does in RV 442 (e.g. No. 5), and you get, in the first movement, a wonderful sonata for flute and two violins: it is very effective that way, with more ideal balances I find than with a larger body of strings. And the other way around too.

And to all those differences, performers can add even more: namely, depending on which flute(s) the concertos are played with. The published opus 10 cycle specified transverse flute, but then the transverse flute in the age of Vivaldi was much closer in timbre to the recorder than to the modern instrument. The earlier versions of No. 1 and 2 also called for flute, but apparently there are different manuscripts of the chamber concerto version of the Bullfinch calling respectively for flute and recorder. Anyway it seems that Vivaldi’s indication “flautino” is ambiguous – some say recorder, some say piccolo. Bottom line: performers have always considered that the choice of instrument – modern or period transverse, sopranino or soprano recorder - was theirs.

I’m bringing this up because here, Camerata Köln decided to combine, playing some on transverse (Gardellino, Notte, op. 10-4, played by Karl Kaiser) and some on recorder (Tempesta di Mare, op. 10-5 & 6, Michael Schneider). In 1979 Brüggen had done the same, and his specific choice was different only for Tempesta di Mare, which he played on transverse. That said, the timbral differences between the soprano recorder and period transverse aren’t striking. I have a recording of the Bullfinch in its chamber concerto version played by Paolo Faldi and L’Astrée on “flauto diritti”, e.g. recorder, and I don’t hear any striking timbral difference with Brüggen’s or Kaiser’s transverse ([[ASIN:B00004ZBJW Concerti Da Camera 1]]). On the other hand, these differences are huge with the piercing “flauto sopranino” (we are not told whether piccolo or sopranino recorder, but I believe the latter) adopted in the same piece by Giovanni Antonini from Il Giardino Armonico.

Now, why Camerata Köln, or Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, decided to present the works on the CD not in their order of op. X publication, but following the sequence 3, 1, 4, 5, 2, 6, is not explained.

Interpretively, Camerata Köln strike a fine middle ground between the robust and characterful but sometimes dangerously trudging Brüggen, and the super-excited, high-strung to the point of turning almost berserk, Il Giardino Armonico. Great timbral colors and combinations (the bassoon registers with great sauciness in its dialogues with flute in “La Notte”), vigor in the articulation but without aggressiveness or precipitation in the tempos, fine poetry and imagination of Kaiser in the cadenzas of the Bullfinch. And Camerata Köln are commendable also for, unlike others, NOT adding any continuo to the bare dialogue of flute and bassoon in the middle Largo – as Brüggen had shown already in 1979, the beauty comes from the very bareness. A nice touch I find in the first movement of “La Notte” is that Kaiser doesn’t play the trills as indicated, but alters his intonation to the quarter-tone; it is nightmarish, and quite effective (but note that the Fanfare reviewer, back in 1991, took strong exception with it). Their RV 442 (No. 5) is also particularly beautiful, with an affecting tenderness to the first movement, enhanced by the one-to-a-part approach mentioned above (although Il Giardino Armonico are even more imaginative in that respect), a beautifully bare Largo and a lively Finale. And their Largo and Finale of RV 101 / No. 6 are have great touches of coloristic invention (an obstinately thumping continuo in the Largo, a few cat-meowing glissandi in the Finale), by which Camerata Köln almost – only almost – rise to the level of Il Giardino Armonico.

This won’t diminish in any way my own affections and preference for Il Giardino Armonico’s approach, I think they’ve taken the interpretation of Vivaldi far far beyond, but they are likely to sound way over the top and over-aggressive to many – their Storm at Sea is a life-threatening experience, their Notte is one stalked by Freddy Krueger, their Bullfinch is on cocaine. To music lovers wishing for a more gentle Vivaldian experience – and to lovers of Il Giardino who’d like a more gentle alternative version – Camerata Köln can be easily recommended as the, or the other, version to have of these “original versions”.

The recordings were made in December 1988, but what Deutsche Harmonia Mundi doesn’t tell you is that RV 442 / Op. 10 No. 5 is the same recording that was already included in Michael Schneider and Camerata Köln’s CD of the recorder concertos, made on 16-20 February 1987 ([[ASIN:B000001TW7 Vivaldi: Concertos For Recorder / Camerata Köln]]). I hear no striking sonic difference with the rest. The CD is completed with a rare composition – I think it was its first appearance on disc –, RV 779, called here a “Concerto” but referred to in Peter Ryom’s catalog as a “Sonata”, for the rare instrumental combination of violin, oboe and organ (there’s an optional chalumeau as well, an ancestor of the clarinet, doubling the organ's left hand, but it’s an option not exercised here by Camerata Köln). There is nothing in the quality of the work that would justify its neglect. It is a well-known observation that, unlike his great contemporaries Bach, Haendel and Scarlatti, Vivaldi didn’t leave any compositions for the solo keyboard. The Sonata provides a superb opportunity to hear that he was as expert and virtuosic in his writing for the instrument as with all others. There’s still so much to discover with Vivaldi. TT 65 minutes. This is the European first edition, Deutsche Harmonia Mundi RD 77156: check on the recording's other editions for cheapest price: first US edition 77156-2-RC [[ASIN:B00000E6VA Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op. 10 - Camerata Köln [Deutsche Harmonia Mundi]]], budget issue on DHM's "Baroque Esprit" seres, [[ASIN:B000001TVN Baroque Esprit]] (but beware, there is an issue with that listing), recent reissue under the auspices of Sony, [[ASIN:B008H29Z68 Vivaldi: Concerti Da Camera]].


title: Cheaper editions elsewhere of a recording that once was a trail-blazer, but has now been surpassed

text:
A cheap French edition of a recording made in 1979 and already realesed on CD by Pro Arte ([[ASIN:B00B00P8VU Vivaldi: Six Flute Concertos op. 10, Frans Bruggen, Orchestra of the 18th Century]]), RCA Red Seal ([[ASIN:B00004SNJI concerti per flauto / archi e 14722 embalo opus 10]]) and, with a complement, RCA Seon ([[ASIN:B0000029VR Vivaldi: Concerti for Flute, Strings and Basso continuo, Op.10, Nos. 1-6; Marcello/Platti: Concerti for for Oboe, Strings and Basso continuo]]), and selling much cheaper at the time of writing in one or the other of those editions.

Back in 1979, Brüggen was the first to return to the original versions of the Flute Concertos published in Amsterdam circa 1728 by Michel-Charles Le Cène as Vivaldi's Opus 10: four existed as chamber concertos, pitting not the flute against the strings but instituting a dialogue between flute and other solo instruments, oboe, violin, bassoon: those are RV 98, become in the Opus 10 collection No. 1 “La Tempesta di Mare" RV 433, RV 104 = No. 2 "La Notte" RV 439, RV 90 = No. 3 "Il Gardellino / The Bullfinch" RV 428 and RV 101 = No. 6 RV 441. Op. 10 No. 5, RV 434, also existed as a recorder concerto, RV 442. So No. 4 / RV 435 is the only that exists only in the form published in the Opus 10 collection. As beautiful as are the six concertos Opus 20, te original versions are, I find, way more colorful and interesting. But even in the "full concertos", RV 442 and RV 435, playing them one to a part, as Brüggen and consort does, pulls them in the direction of the chamber concertos.

While much is still valid in Brüggen’s readings from 35 years back, as ground-breaking as he was back then, he now tends to sound his age. The combinations of instrumental timbres register with great color, but this is, in view of what came after, a very gentle version, and the choice of tempos often verges on the trudging. Even limiting yourself to those versions that have adopted the original versions, Camerata Köln in 1988 ([[ASIN:B000026HA2 Vivaldi: Flute Concertos op. X]]), and, at the top of my own pantheon, Il Giardino Armonico in 1990 ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]), have brought these works more colors, more verve, more dynamism, more imagination, more excitement.

Anyway, even if interested by Brüggen, better go to the RCA Seon release, with its two complements. See my review there for more detais. The filler here - Bach's Badinerie with Jean-Pierre Rampal and the English Chamber Orchestra under Raymond Leppard, is unsubstantial, and doesn't add much to the CD's TT.


title: & 1/2: A pionneer and trail-blazer, surpassed by his successors

text:
This is not exactly the cyle of 6 flute Concerti op. 10, as it was published ca.1728 by Amsterdam publisher Michel-Charles Le Cène, that Brüggen and consort play. Five of these six concertos exist in previous and alternative versions, including four as Concerti da Camera or chamber concertos: No. 1 “La Tempesta di Mare = RV 98 (instead of RV 433), No. 2 La Notte = RV 104 vs 439, No. 3 Il Gardellino RV 90 vs 428 and No. 6 RV 101 vs 441. The main differences are in orchestration, the chamber versions being based more on an interplay of solo instruments, especially oboe, bassoon and solo violin with flute/recorder, rather than, as in the full concerto versions, pitting the solo trransverse flute against strings and continuo, and for that reason I find the chamber concertos way more interesting. Just to give one example, the finale of RV 428, the “full- concerto” version of “Il Gardellino / The Bullfinch”, for flute and strings, is simply no match to the voluble chirping together of flute (or recorder) and oboe, pitted against violin and bassoon of RV 90. Some movements are different too, as the Largo and Finale of Tempesta di Mare, but for some obscure reason reason Brüggen plays not the Largo of RV 98 but a conflation of RV 433 and RV 98. In various Allegros, as those of Il Gardellino / The Bullfinch, the op. 10 versions are abridged. In the case of op. 10/5 aka RV 434, its original version is RV 442, scored for recorder and not transverse flute. So RV 435/op. 10 No. 4 is the only one that exists only in the form published in the Opus 10 collection.

Brüggen was the first one, in 1979, to return to those earlier versions. Of course, it is not entirely appropriate then to refer to these works as “opus 10”, but that doesn’t matter much. Another observation to be made is that the chamber character of the pieces doesn’t derive only from their instrumentation, but also from the kind of instrumental lineup utilized: even the “full-concerto” versions of RV 435 and 442 acquire a chamber-like character, when they are played with a limited body of strings: here it’s one a part, plus the continuo. Nowhere is this more in evidence than in the first movement of RV 438, the only one for which there is no other version, which Brüggen turns, at times, into a sonata for flute and two violins, and I find it more convincing and ingratiating that way than when played with a larger body of strings. Since Brüggen, I am aware of three more that returned to the earlier versions: Michael Schneider and Karl Kaiser (alternating recorder and transverse) with Camerata Köln on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi in 1988 ([[ASIN:B000026HA2 Vivaldi: Flute Concertos op. X]]), Il Giardino Armonico for Teldec in 1990 ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]), and one that I haven’t heard, the Tokyo Bach-Mozart Ensemble on Denon from 1991 ([[ASIN:B0000034VC Vivaldi: 6 Concerti for Traverse Flute (Denon)]]). There may have been more that I missed, but most other ensembles, even period-instruments, play the concertos op. 10 as published.

While much is still valid in Brüggen’s  readings from 35 years back, as ground-breaking as he was back then, he now tends to sound his age. The combinations of instrumental timbres register with great color – but this is, in view of what came after, a very gentle version, and the choice of tempos often verges on the trudging. If, in the “Tempest at Sea”, you want a storm like the one which Wagner thought he’d die and which inspired him to write Fliegende Holländer, go to Il Giardino Armonico. Brüggen’s is playful, non aggressive, a cozy regatta by gentle or moderate breeze, 3 or 4 on the Beaufort scale. There are nice colorisitc touches in the slow movements of “La Notte” (track 2), the bassoon always registers with great character and sauciness, but the spectres (“Fantasmi”, 1:37) are more an exciting ride than, as with Il Giardino, a frightening nightmare, and likewise with the two other Allegros (3:10 & 6:07). The opening chirping cadenza of the bullfinch (track 3 at 0:28) has plenty of character, but tempos in the two Allegros trudge, which is not without (rustic) character (although possibly better suited for Michel Corrette than for Vivaldi), but doesn’t picture a very excited birdy. Brüggen’s Finale of the RV 90 is bullfinch engaging into courtly and distinguished wooing of the oboe – Il Giardino Armonico is Casanova or Don Giovanni in the harem. But the middle lento, reduced to the bare dialogue of flute and bassoon, is beautiful – other ensembles, and that includes, alas, Il Giardino Armonico, have filled the bass line with harpsichord or lute continuo, apparently not realizing that the wistful beauty of the movement comes from the very bareness of the textures – and Brüggen adds tasteful ornamentation in the repeats. Character but more moderate to trudging tempos again in the framing Allegros of RV 435 (No. 4), and too bad Brüggen doesn’t ornament at all in the middle Largo. It is true that the opening Allegro of No. 5 (RV 435) is temperered by the indication “non molto”, but, despite the felicities of his one-to-a-part approach (see above), Brüggen takes it so moderato that he makes the music sound like a music-box: not without character again, but not a very exciting character either. But, as in Il Gardinello, the very bareness of the middle Largo is quite beautiful, and the Finale is played with vivacity and verve. And I find that No. 6 RV 101 fares well particularly well. The thumping continuo in the Largo and the progressive acceleration of the finale until the final deceleration of the coda, are two great imaginative touches.

Still, even limiting yourself to those versions that have adopted the original versions, Camerata Köln and, at the top of my own pantheon, Il Giardino Armonico, have brought these works more colors, more verve, more dynamism, more imagination, more excitement. One cue per concerto, individual movements not cued, no filler, TT 53 minutes. Seon USA has also issued this recording, but with welcome complements, for a total time of 77 minutes, [[ASIN:B0000029VR Vivaldi: Concerti for Flute, Strings and Basso continuo, Op.10, Nos. 1-6; Marcello/Platti: Concerti for for Oboe, Strings and Basso continuo]].


title: Vivaldi in the 1960s – sometimes “before” is not better, and you’re glad to be “now”

text:
That I received this double-CD set without its booklet didn’t make it easier to establish exactly which pieces are played, since the back cover track listing doesn’t give any catalog numbers, just “Concerto for 2 Mandolins, Stirngs & Organ in G Major” – easy enough, this one, Vivaldi wrote only one Concerto for 2 Mandolins – or “Concerto for Strings and Harpsichord in A major”, so it sent me on Wikipedia and the International Music Scores Library Project checking all the string concertos in A major of Vivaldi. Well, after a little bit of sleuth work, here it is, as well as the discographic origins of this compilation from various records and ensembles.

CD 1 tracks 1-16 brings back Vanguard/The Bach Guild BG 665 (mono) / Stereolab BGS (stereo) 70665, “Concertos for diverse instruments”, published at the end of 1964, all performed by I Solisti di Zagreb under Antonio Janigro (The Bach Guild was Vanguard’s famous early music sub-label). Contents are:

- Concerto for 2 Mandolins RV 532 with Anton Ganocki and Ferdo Pavlinek
- Concerto for Flute “La Notte” op. 10-2 RV 104 with Julius Baker (flute) and Karl Hoffmann (bassoon)
- Concerto for strings RV 158
- Concerto for Bassoon RV 495 with Rudolf Klepack
- Concerto for Violin & double string orchestra “Per la Ss Assunzione di Maria Vergine” RV 581 with Jelka Stanic.

The Concertos weren’t attributed any catalog number back then, but the presence of the solo bassoon in “La Notte” makes it unmistakably the Chamber Concerto version of that work, RV 104, and not the Concerto version, RV 439. Note that the continuo harpsichordist is Herbert Tachezi (an information retrieved from online photos of the original LP), better known as the harpsichordist of Harnoncourt and his Concentus Musicus Wien.

Tracks 17-19 is the Concerto for flautino RV 445, Julius Baker again (playing the piccolo) but with the Vienna State Opera Orchestra under Felix Prohaska, from Vanguard VSD 71170 (“The Virtuoso Flute vol. 3”), an LP released in 1967 which, other than RV 445 (back then referred to according to the numbering in the Pincherle catalog, P83), featured Concerto for flautino/piccolo RV 444 (P78), Mozart’ Flute Concerto No. 2 K314 and Gluck’s Dance from the Blessed Spirits. Too bad Vanguard missed the opportunity to include RV 444. It’s been reissued to CD with the complete contents of 71170 on Vanguard SVC 55, [[ASIN:B0000023BL The Virtuoso Flute, Vol. 3]].

CD 2
Tracks 1-12 are again with I Solisti di Zagreb under Antonio Janigro. Tracks 1-6, the two flute concertos played by Julius Baker, are from Vanguard VSD-71153 “The Virtuoso Flute vol. 2”, released in 1966. They are the Flute Concerto RV 428 (P 155) “Il Gardinello / The Bullfinch” and Flautino/Piccolo Concerto RV 443 (P79). The LP also had Mozart’s Concerto for Flute No. 1 K313 and Andante K315. The complete program can be found on CD Vanguard SVC 54, [[ASIN:B0000023BK Virtuoso Flute 2]], with the addition of Vaughan Williams’ Greensleeves Fantasia..

Tracks 7-12, the two Concertos for Guitar (in fact mandolin Concertos RV 425 and an orchestral arrangement of the trio for violin and mandolin RV 82), played by Alirio Diaz, are the Vivaldi part of LP Vanguard VSD 71152 (recorded in 1965) which also had guitar concertos of Kohaut and Castelnuovo-Tedesco. The full program and more can be found on [[ASIN:B0000023A0 Virtuoso Guitar]] (US edition), [[ASIN:B000024YRD The Classical Guitar]] (European edition), or [[ASIN:B0000CABIH Guitar Masterpieces: (2cds) Four Centuries of Spanish Guitar + Virtuoso Guitar Concertos]] (a compilation of that recording and another one by Diaz).

Tracks 13-18, with the Sinfonia for strings RV 149 and Concerto for Two Trumpets RV 537 performed by Marc Bennett, Andrew Crowley and Camerata of St. Andrew under Leonard Friedman are excerpted from a CD published not by Vanguard, but on the companion label of Vanguard founder Seymour Solomon, Omega, OCD 1012, [[ASIN:B00000239B Virtuoso Vivaldi]], in 1988. Fine, but it would have been more coherent of Vanguard to offer Antonio Janigro’s recording of the same Concerto, originally on Bach Guild 5041 “Virtuoso Trumpet” with Helmut Wobisch and Adolf Holler (released in 1962), now on CD OVC 2008 [[ASIN:B0000023AA The Virtuoso Trumpet, Vol. 1 (The Bach Guild / Historical Anthology)]] and various other Vanguard CD reissues.

Finally, tracks 19-21 send us far far away and way way back in the early 1950s, Jan Tomasow playing Violin Concerto Op. 12-1 (RV 317) with the Chamber Orchestra of the Vienna State Orchestra, with Gustav Leonhardt at the harpsichord, recorded in 1953, first published in 1954 on The Bach Guild BG-538, “A Bouquet of Vivaldi Concerti”, with miscellaneous concertos, VC in A minor op. 3-6 (e.g. RV 356, also with Tomasow), “Concerto Grosso” in D minor op. 3-11 (in fact 2 violins RV 565), Flute Concerto op. 10-3 “The Bullfinch” with Ludwig Pfersmann.

So, other than the last tracks, this is decidedly Vivaldi from the mid-1960s. Back then, in the realm of Vivaldi interpretation, reigned ensembles like I Musici, Renato Fasano's I Virtuosi di Roma, Angelo Ephrikian and his Orchestra della Scuola Veneziana. Many among the older generation of music lovers grew up with that, but in the 1970s new groups appeared who became great Vivaldi champions, like Claudio Scimone’s I Solisti Veneti and Neville Marriner and his Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields (and I Musici continued), and they were superseded by the first period instrument ensembles in the early 1980s, Trevor Pinnock’s English Concert, Christopher Hogwood’s Academy of Ancient Music, Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s Vienna Concentus Musicus, and even they were the springboard to new generations of Vivaldi interperters that emerged in the 1990s, many of them from Italy, like Il Giardino Armonico or Fabio Biondi’s Europa Galante.

So, other than the nostalgia effect on those older generations, how does Janigro’s or Prohaska’s Vivaldi hold up today? Well, what did you expect? They sound like Vivaldi in the 1960s.

Heard on its own, without any references, this kind of Vivaldi playing may, at its best, seem convincing. After all the music is beautiful, sunny, buoyant, colorful.

But as soon as you start comparing, it appears, even at its best, as a bit too thick, a bit too ponderous, a bit too proper and solemn and lacking true jubilation, a bit too overtly sentimental in the slow movements: and Concerto for strings RV 158 is very typical: there’s so much life and dynamism with Concerto Köln (see links to all these comparative versions in the comments section) - and Tachezi’s loud and clanging harpsichord doesn’t help either in the saccharine Andante. Julius Baker in “La Notte” (CD 1 tracks 4-7) is not to blame but - to limit myself to recordings of the chamber concerto version, RV 104, Camerata Köln in 1988, and even more Il Giardino Armonico in 1990 have brought so much more expression, imagination and drama in that work - and revealed how much the work gains being played one to a part: Vanguard’s La Notte is pretty, theirs takes my breath away (and don’t miss, on You Tube, flautist Sebastian Marq and Jean-Christophe Spinosi live on Mezzo in the "full concerto" version, RV 439, played one to a part: this is not “classical music” anymore, it’s rock & roll!). Same comments can be made about Baker's flautino/piccolo Concerto RV 443 (CD 2 tracks 3-6); in itself it might seem fine, even its thick and trudging finale, which has a certain bonhomie to it, but listen to Michala Petri in the same work and hear so much more spirit, zest and enthusiasm in the outer movements – and an imaginative continuo accompaniment by George Malcolm, as opposed to the plump-plump basses of I Solisti di Zagreb (plus the fact that the antiphonal exchanges between strings hardly register). Baker commendably avoids the kind of languid tempo (in fact his is exactly the same as Petri’s) and saccharine expression that one might have feared in the Largo – but there’s simply more poetry with Petri and Malcom, lighter string tone, imaginative ornamentation in the repeats (Baker just repeats as is), beautiful sentiment without any sentimentalism. Compared to Klaus Thunemann with I Musici in 1994, Rudolf Klepac and I Solisti di Zagreb in the Bassoon Concerto RV 495 (CD 1 tracks 11-13) sound positively trudging. Klepac’s tone is fine enough, but Thunemann ornaments profusely and imaginatively, and it sounds great.

The Concerto for 2 mandolins RV 532 (CD 1 tracks 1-3) and Concerto for mandolin RV 425 (CD 2 tracks 10-12) sound again colorful, but pedestrian in the outer movements, too grand and heavy in their orchestral textures and too loud, verging dangerously on the solemn at the expense of the jubilant, Vivaldi in St. Marc rather than at Ospedale della Pietà. But the middle Andante of RV 532 – a beautiful “raindrop” movement – is still today entirely valid, despite the higher pitch and hence more crystalline sounds of the two mandolins compared to what one is accustomed to hearing nowadays, and the Finale of the same concerto is taken with a drive and enthusiasm that leaves even most modern period-instrument ensembles behind and that I’ve seen emulated only by Il Giardino Armonico. The two mandolinists in RV 532, Anton Ganocki and Ferdo Pavlinek, are superb (and the stereo separation is great), and wouldn’t disgrace a period-instrument ensemble of today, but RV 425 is played by Alirio Diaz on modern guitar.

But sometimes, you don’t even need to compare to anything else to sense that something is wrong, as in the Violin Concerto with two antiphonal orchestras RV 581 (CD 1 tracks 14-16): thick textures, heavy and trudging basses. This feels like, “ouch”. And go to Fabio Biondi – not with his Europa Galante ensemble but with counter-tenor Gerard Lesne’s Seminario Musicale – and hear not a big, juicy romantic tone like Jelka Stanic’s, much leaner, but hear also imaginative violin playing, going way beyond the written notes, adding wild improvisation at the cadential points in the first movement… and letting you fantasize what it might have been with Vivaldi himself played it. Giuliano Carmignola, with the Sonatori de la Gioiosa Marca on Divox, is much more score-bound than Biondi in the outer movements, yet his violin playing is still way more interesting than Stanic’s; and then, his middle Largo is even wilder than Biondi, a long and ornate improvisation over Vivaldi’s melodic line. But, to be entirely fair, there is something to be said also in favor of Stanic’s simplicity there, just playing the notes as written.

In the “Bullfinch” (CD 2 tracks 1-3), as soon as the strings play tutti, they are so overblown. Without even going to recent recordings, there was more dynamism, but also more refinement, finesse and elegance with Rampal and Claudio Scimone’s I Solisti Veneti in 1966 – and some very welcome ornamentation in the repeats of the middle Largo, which again Baker plays "straight". But it’s even worse with the Piccolo Concerto RV 445, now conducted by Felix Prohaska (CD 1 tracks 17-19): sure, the piccolo will always be a nice and playful instrument, but the tempos, and orchestral textures! They are elephantine. If you want to hear life, zest, bounce, go to Michael Schneider and Camerata Köln.

And let me not even comment on the last Violin Concerto performed by Tomasow in the early 1950s: this is, truly, the prehistory of Vivaldi interpretation. For what it’s worth, the two pieces performed by Camerata St. Andrew are excellently done, their two trumpet Concerto is one of the best I’ve heard.

This is Vivaldi for nostalgics of the 1960s, then, people who grew up with that style of interpretation, learned their Vivaldi that way and want to stay there. Note that for these, a better offer is probably the compilation of much of Janigro’s Vivaldi, the Four Seasons, the Concertos played on the original “Concertos for diverse instruments” LP and the Concerto for two trumpets from The Virtuoso Trumpet (but not the two flute concertos from Virtuoso flute and guitar concertos played by Alirio Diaz), on Vanguard ATM-CD-1188 [[ASIN:B0000ADXFO Vivaldi: The Orchestral Masterpieces, Vol. 1- The Four Seasons & Other Concertos]] or ATM-CD-1264 [[ASIN:B0009NCPW4 Vivaldi Orchestral Masterpieces: Four Seasons and other concertos, Vol. 1]].

But for me, interpretation of music from the 17th and early 18th century is one of the rare areas which makes me happy that “today” replaced “before” (the other one would be having the world as a marketplace for my CDs of classical music, all two clicks away).


title: Reissuing Vanguard classics for trumpet from the 1960s and early 1970s - and sounding their stylistic age, too...

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The history of the Vanguard label on CD is a complicated one, because the catalog moved from hand to hand. At the advent of the CD it was still in the possession of the original founders Seymour and Maynard Solomon, but they soon sold it to a Welk Music Group, which released some of it on CD but was more interested in Joan Baez and the pop catalog. In the early 1990s Solomon repurchased the classical catalog through his company Omega Records, in cooperation with a Dutch company, Arcade, which retained the distribution rights in Europe. The two eventually fell out and, upon Solomon’s death in 2002, the catalog was acquired by an Artemis company of New York which initiated a serious and intelligently conceived series of reissues – some of them new to CD. But that lasted less than a decade and since then the catalog has fallen in less recommendable hands (from many comments I’ve read, the label called “Musical Concepts” is best avoided). A company called The Bach Guild, “A Division of Entertainment One Ltd.” or eOne Music, established in 2012, is reissuing a lot of that material, in so called “Big Box” Sets, but in download form only. Never heard any so I can’t tell about the quality of the transfers, but the comments about each box on their website are always intelligent, enthusiastic, and relatively well-informed about the history and heritage of Vanguard.

All this to say that, when the catalog was co-owned by Solomon’s Omega and Arcade, many of the reissues were made on both sides of the Atlantic – but not all. There were a few cases of material reissued in the US and not in Europe, but most discrepancies are, surprisingly, publications in Europe and not the US, including some very improbable ones, like Leroy Robertson’s Oratorio on the Book of Mormon, for which you would have thought the interest was limited to Salt Lake City and its surroundings (about this, see my review of [[ASIN:B0000254I8 Oratorio from the Book of Mormon]]).

This twofer, "The Virtuoso Trumpet", Vanguard 08 9136 72, is a case in point. It was published by Arcade in 1993 and reissues a few classic recordings of Vanguard. Some of those had already been brought back to CD, or were subsequently released on individual CDs, on both sides of the Atlantic, some only on one side, but some seem to have gotten their only CD publication right here. So here’s the deal:

CD 1 tracks 1-16 reissues Vanguard VCS 10098 / VSQ 30012 (Quadraphonic) Cardinal series, from 1971, with Martin Berinbaum, the English Chamber Orchestra under Johannes Somary, Harold Lester harpsichord. The full program is reissued: Hummel’s Trumpet Concerto in E-flat S. 49, Albinoni’s Trumpet Concerto “Saint Marc” in B flat major (arranged from his Trattenimenti Armonici per Camera op. 6/11, for violin and continuo), Torelli’s Sonata a Cinque in D major G. 7 and Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto in E-flat major Hob. 7e/1. Original LP sells here, [[ASIN:B002UW4QEC Martin Berinbaum - Introducing The Great Young American Trumpet Virtuoso]]. The full program was reissued – but as late as 2000 – by Vanguard US/Omega on an individual CD, Vanguard SVC 136, [[ASIN:B00004NKH6 Martin Berinbaum plays Trumpet Concertos by Albinoni; Haydn; Hummel; Torelli]] (using the cover photo of the original LP of The Virtuoso Trumpet vol. 1, see hereafter!)

All the rest are Vanguard classic recordings from the 1960s (in excellent sound and excellent transfers, as is the wont of Vanguard) performed by I Solisti di Zagreb under Antonio Janigro, Helmut Wobisch first trumpet, Adolf Holler 2nd Trumpet.

CD 1 tracks 17-30 reissue tracks from Vanguard / The Bach Guild BG 617 (mono) / Stereolab BGS 5041 “The Virtuoso Trumpet”, recorded on May 5-9, 1961, in Baumgartner Hall, Vienna, Austria and published in 1962: Jeremiah Clarke’s so-called “Trumpet Voluntary” (in fact, an arrangement of “The Prince of Denmark’s March” from “A Choice Collection of Ayres” for harpsichord, 1700), Vivaldi’s Concerto for Two Trumpets RV 537, Gicomo Perti’s Sonata for 4 Trumpets ( Josef Hell and Gerarld Contrath are credited as trumpet players 3 & 4), Purcell’s Trumpet Overture from (Act III of) “The Indian Queen”, Domenico Gabrielli’s Sonata for Trumpet (No. 6 - and both the CD and original LP mis-spelt his name as GabrieLi, but this is the composer from Bologna, unrelated to the GabrieLis of Venice) and John Stanley’s “Trumpet Tune” (in fact, an arrangement for trumpet and strings of the Trumpet Voluntary Op. 6 No. 5, written not at all for trumpet but for the trumpet stops of the organ!). Missing from the original program are Purcell’s Sonata for trumpet & strings (z.850), Torelli's Sonata for trumpet G. 13 and Sinfonia for 4 Trumpets G. 33, and Corelli’s Sonata for Trumpet, Violin & continuo WoO 4. The original LP sells here, [[ASIN:B003PK4P0S The Virtuoso Trumpet: Music for One, Two and Four Trumpets By: Vivaldi, Torelli, Purcell, Gabrieli, Clarke, Corelli, Perti]]. The complete program has been reissued many times to CD in the US and in Europe, first by the Welk Music Group, [[ASIN:B00797OCBU The Virtuoso Trumpet - Music for One, Two and Four Trumpets]], by Vanguard US, OVC 2008, [[ASIN:B0000023AA The Virtuoso Trumpet, Vol. 1 (The Bach Guild / Historical Anthology)]], and on various European releases.

CD 2 tracks 1-13, originally on BG 641 (mono) / Stereolab BGS 5053, “The Virtuoso Trumpet vol. 2”, published in 1963 (but I've found online library sources that indicated that it had been recorded at the same sessions as volume 1): Biber’s Sonata a 7 for 6 trumpets, timpani and continuo (C. 111 in Biber’s catalog of works, indicated neither on the original LP nor on the CD. And I haven’t been able to find out who the four other trumpet players were, only Wobisch and Holler are credited), Francesco Manfredini Concerto for 2 Trumpets, Strings, Harpsichord and Organ, Giuseppe Matteo Alberti Sonata for 2 Trumpets, Leopold Mozart Concerto for solo clarino and Torelli’s Concerto for 2 trumpets (the LP didn’t say, but it’s G.18) - all in D major: - are all trumpet pieces written in that key? Well, no: missing from the reissue is Haydn’s Concerto in E-flat. Original LP sells here [[ASIN:B0017R512W The Virtuoso Trumpet, Vol. 2]], reissued on an individual CD by Vanguard USA, OVC 2535, [[ASIN:B0000023C6 Virtuoso Trumpet 2]], I haven’t found a European equivalent.

Anton Heiller is the harpsichordist in these two programs.

But where it becomes interesting is with CD 2 tracks 14-38, which reissues BG 685 (mono) / BGS 70685 (stereo) from 1966, “The Virtuoso Trumpet vol. 3” (subtitled “Its Golden Age in Bologna” – Herbert Tachezi now harpsichordist, better known as the long-time harpsichordist of Nikolaus Harnoncourt), because, so far as I’ve been able to establish, this one was never reissued to CD in any other form, neither by the Welk Music Group in the 1980s, nor by Omega records or Arcade or by Artemis Records of New York. And the full program is on the CD: Torelli’s Sinfonia with Two Trumpets G. 20 (mistakenly called “Sonata” on the CD), Sonata with Strings and Trumpet G. 1 (titled here “Concerto”) and Sinfonia for 2 Trumpets G. 30 (called “Sinfonia with Oboes, Trumpets and Violins” on the original LP), Giuseppe Maria Jacchini’s Concerto per due Trombe (“Sonata with Two Trumpets”), Domenico Gabrielli’s Sonata for trumpet No. 5, Giuseppe Aldrovandini’s Sonata for two trumpets and Anonymous’ Sinfonia for two trumpets. LP sells here, [[ASIN:B00DHN8AXG The Virtuoso Trumpet Vol. 3: Helmut Wobisch & Adolf Holler Trumpet, I Solisti Di Zagreb, Herbert Tachezi, Harpsichord, Antonio Janigro, Conductor, Works of Torelli, Jacchini, D. Gabrielli, Aldrovandini]].

Can’t blame Vanguard Europe for the pieces they left out from the original LPs – both CDs are filled to the brim as it is, 75 and 73:30 minutes, and it would have required a (shortish) third CD to fit all.

With those discographic minutiae established – what about the music? How does it hold up, half-a-century (!!!) later? Well, a little too much like half-a-century away, I’m afraid.

Granted, it’s hard to resist the brilliance and excitement of the outer movements of Manfredini’s Concerto for 2 trumpets (CD 2 tracks 2 & 4), Alberti’s Sonata for 2 Trumpets (tracks 5 & 7), Jacchini’s Concerto for two trumpets (tracks 24-27) or Aldrovandini’s Sonata for two trumpets (36-38), even in comparison to recent recordings on period instruments when they exist (rarely), like the one by Concerto Köln in Manfredini (but I've exhausted my quota of authorized product links, and must send all the rest to the comments section). But, in the slow movements, especially the Adagio of Manfredini, they lapse into the kind of saccharine sentimentality so characteristic of the interpretation of early 18th century music half-a-century ago, that would be perfectly in situation in Michael Tippett’s Fantasia on a theme of Corelli, but sounds awkward today in 18th century music.

I pulled the set out of my shelves to do some comparison on Vivaldi’s Two Trumpet Concerto. In other Vivaldi works I haven’t found that Antonio Janigro/I Solisti di Zagreb’s recordings from the 1960s held up too well: so much water has flown under the interpretive vivaldian bridges since, and they sounded, well, very 1960s: always a little (or a lot) too slow, too ponderous, too thick in their instrumental textures, too solemn rather than jubilant in expression (see my review of the companion Vanguard Vivaldi collection, link in comments). But RV 537 starts with an excellent first movement, both regal and jubilant, and another nice feature is the imaginative and voluble harpsichord of Anton Heller in the slow movement. a short bridge passage for strings alone between both Allegros. The Finale is brilliant, at times dramatic, but lacks a touch of animation and jubilation.

But, generally speaking, in the other works, the trumpet or trumpets sound brilliant enough, but the interpretive style is firmly rooted in the 1960s traditions still, with tempos usually trudging in the Allegros, and strings too thick and romantic-sounding. Not an issue in Biber’s Sonata (CD 2 track 1), since the accompaniment is organ and timps, and I Solisti di Zagreb are way more animated and jubilant than Harnoncourt and his Concentus Musicus Wien in 1971 and then Philip Pickett’s New London Consort in 1988, making them seem impossibly solemn and soporific - but Richard Kapp and his Philharmonia Virtuosi are even more animated and exuberant.

But take for instance the Torelli works of CD 2 and compare to Thomas Hammes’ brilliant recording on Brilliant Classics: There’s great enthusiasm with Wobisch and I Solisti di Zagreb in the opening movement of G.1 (track 17) – with them you wouldn’t really know that it is an “Andante” – and the large body of strings gives it the feel of a full concerto rather than the Sonata it is. Hammes there is more in the character of the score, if less immediately exciting. But come the Allegros, both there and in G.20, and it’s no contest: now Wobisch and Solisti di Zagreb sound like Andante or Moderato – and what took them to play the Finale of G20, track 16, as a solemn Largo? - and with strings that, in comparison, sound elephantine, while Hammes takes them as jubilant Allegros indeed (and he adds great ornamentation too). The third movement of G.1, “Grave”, is without trumpet but with solo violin, and the fiddler from Hammes’ European Chamber Soloists make it infinitely more interesting than I Solisti di Zagreb’s concertmaster, while their tempo, about double as fast, loses nothing of the “grave” character but gets rid of the romantic ponderousness, and the same comment applies to the beautiful Andante of G20. Vanguard doesn’t cue the ensuing Allegro for 2 violins and strings, starting at 0:59 into track 15: I Solisti di Zagreb play it with much enthusiasm, more even than the European Chamber Soloists, but the music’s antiphonal effects are lost, and, without a score (not available alas from the International Music Scores Library Project) you wouldn’t even know there were two violins dialoguing, if you hadn’t heard it clearly on Brilliant’s recording. And without even needing to make any comparison with Hammes, the strings are so thick and heavy in the opening Largo assai of G18, track 10, you’d think it were a big cheesecake melting under the sun. But the two Allegros are played with much enthusiasm. There’s less of it however in the “staccato” (e.g. fast) part of the Adagio. The timpani in the Allegros must be Janigro’s addition – I don’t hear them with Hammes.

And the same comments can be made about Martin Berinbaum’s Sonata a Cinque G.7 on CD 1 tracks 8-13, despite the commendable efforts of both soloist and strings to ornament the melodic line. But it doesn’t make their adagios less wailing and sentimental (they take the middle one more than twice as slow as Hammes, and, with their larger body of strings, it makes a huge difference in expression), their allegros are less animated and exciting than Hammes’, and their phrasings less imaginative.

Back to CD 2, Torelli’s Sinfonia for 2 Trumpets, 2 Oboes and much more (violins, cello, and again timpani which may not be authentic) G. 30, tracks 21-23, is a great work, and I have no comparison, because unfortunately Hammes hasn’t recorded it (despite the disc’s indication of “complete”, the works recorded stop at G.24. The only recent version I am aware of is Sergio Vartolo’s (recorded in the very resonant acoustics of the San Petronio basilica in Bologna where many of these works were originally performed) in a 3-CD set published by Bongiovanni in 1994, adding G26 to 33, but now selling very expensive on the marketplace.

Too bad the two Torelli pieces from the 1962 LP were left out: From the samples I've heard samples they seemed played with great enthusiasm.

I haven’t done the same kind of detailed comparison on the remainder of I Solisti di Zagreb’s program on CD1, because what I did was conclusive enough, and anyway you don’t need any comparison to recognize that the 19th century bastardizations for trumpet and strings of the pieces of Clarke (track 17) and Stanley (track 30) are impossibly thick and solemn, music for Queen Victoria rather than Queen Anne and the first three King Georges, and that the strings lack life and zest in Purcell’s Trumpet Overture to The Indian Queen. On the other hand later repertoire, mid-18th century onwards, doesn’t fare too bad, because there I Solisti di Zagreb’s body of strings is perfectly suited. In fact Janigro’s Trumpet Concerto of Leopold Mozart (CD 2 tracks 8 & 9) is better than most, because his opening Andante is nicely animated and avoids the kind of soporific boredom favored by most others including Maurice André. The Finale is spirited as it should be. But Wobisch doesn’t approach the tonal refinement of André, he sounds even a bit awkward at times. I haven’t done any detailed comparisons on Berinbaum’s Hummel and Haydn Concertos.

So, in the end, this is best reserved to fans of trumpet virtuosity who are not too interested in matters of stylistic authenticity.

Note that all this, including the missing tracks from the original LPs save I Solisti di Zagreb's Haydn Concerto which would have doubled Berinbaum's, and more, has been reissued on one of those “Big Box” downloads I mentioned in my opening paragraphs, at a price that can’t be beat:  [[ASIN:B017743GJ8 Little Big Trumpet Box]].


title: Vivaldi for the nostalgics of the 1960s

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The entry's associated barcode and the backcover photo uploaded by Bejart7090 tell me that this must by the edition licensed from Vanguard by the Musical Heritage Society. The original Vanguard CD, OVC 2006, is here: [[ASIN:B0000023A8 Vivaldi: Concerti for Diverse Instruments]]. There are other editions but at the time of writing this one sells cheapest.

It brings back an LP published at the end of 1964, Vanguard/The Bach Guild BG 665 (mono) / Stereolab BGS (stereo) 70665, “Concertos for diverse instruments”, all performed by I Solisti di Zagreb under Antonio Janigro. Contents are:

- Concerto for 2 Mandolins RV 532 with Anton Ganocki and Ferdo Pavlinek
- Concerto for Flute “La Notte” op. 10-2 RV 104 with Julius Baker (flute) and Karl Hoffmann (bassoon)
- Concerto for strings RV 158
- Concerto for Bassoon RV 495 with Karl Hoffmann
- Concerto for Violin & double string orchestra “Per la Ss Assunzione di Maria Vergine” RV 581 with Jelka Stanic.

The Concertos weren’t attributed any catalog number back then, but the presence of the solo bassoon in “La Notte” makes it unmistably the Chamber Concerto version of that work, RV 104, and not the Concerto version, RV 439. Note that the continuo harpsichordist is Herbert Tachezi, better known as the harpsichordist of Harnoncourt and his Concentus Musicus Wien.

This is Vivaldi from the mid-1960s; then. Back then, in the realm of Vivaldi interpretation, reigned ensembles like I Musici, Renato Fasano's I Virtuosi di Roma, Angelo Ephrikian and his Orchestra della Scuola Veneziana. Many among the older generation of music lovers grew up with that, but in the 1970s new groups appeared who became great Vivaldi champions, like Claudio Scimone’s I Solisti Veneti and Neville Marriner and his Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields (and I Musici continued), and they were superseded by the first period instrument ensembles in the early 1980s, Trevor Pinnock’s English Concert, Christopher Hogwood’s Academy of Ancient Music, Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s Vienna Concentus Musicus, and even they were the springboard to new generations of Vivaldi interperters that emerged in the 1990s, many of them from Italy, like Il Giardino Armonico or Fabio Biondi’s L’Europa Galante.

So, other than the nostalgia effect on those older generations, how does Janigro’s Vivaldi hold up today? Well, what did you expect? It sounds like Vivaldi in the 1960s.

Heard on its own, without any references, this kind of Vivaldi playing may, at its best, seem convincing. After all the music is beautiful, sunny, buoyant, colorful. But as soon as you start comparing, it appears, even at its best, as a bit too thick, a bit too ponderous, a bit too proper and solemn and lacking true jubilation, a bit too overtly sentimental in the slow movements: and Concerto for strings RV 158 is very typical: there’s so much life and dynamism with Concerto Köln ([[ASIN:B000001WM0 Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti For Wind And Strings / Concerto Koln]])  (and Tachezi’s loud and clanging harpsichord doesn’t help either in the saccharine Andante). Julius Baker in “La Notte” (CD 1 tracks 4-7) is not to blame but - to limit myself to recordings of the chamber concerto version, RV 104 - Camerata Köln in 1988 ([[ASIN:B00000E6VA Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op. 10 - Camerata Köln [Deutsche Harmonia Mundi]]]), and even more Il Giardino Armonico in 1990 ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]) have brought so much more expression, imagination and drama in that work - and revealed how much the work gains being played one to a part: Vanguard’s La Notte is pretty, theirs takes my breath away (and don’t miss, on You Tube, flautist Sebastian Marq and Jean-Christophe Spinosi live on Mezzo in the "full concerto" version, RV 439, played one to a part: this is not “classical music” anymore, it’s rock & roll!). Compared to Klaus Thunemann with I Musici in 1994, [[ASIN:B00000133A Vivaldi: 7 Bassoon Concertos]], Rudolf Klepac and I Solisti di Zagreb sound positively trudging. Klepac’s tone is fine enough, but Thunemann ornaments profusely and imaginatively, and it sounds great.

The Concerto for 2 mandolins RV 532 (tracks 1-3) sounds again colorful, but pedestrian in the outer movements, too grand and heavy in its orchestral textures and too loud, verging dangerously on the solemn at the expense of the jubilant, Vivaldi in St. Marco rather than at Ospedale della Pietà. But the middle Andante – a beautiful “raindrop” movement – is still today entirely valid, despite the higher pitch and hence more crystalline sounds of the two mandolins compared to the one is accustomed of hearing now, and the Finale of the same concerto is taken with a drive and enthusiasm that leaves even modern period-instrument ensembles behind and that I’ve seen emulated only by Il Giardino Armonico. The two mandolinists, Anton Ganocki and Ferdo Pavlinek, are superb, and wouldn’t disgrace a period-instrument ensemble of today.

But sometimes, you don’t even need to compare to anything else to sense that something is wrong, as in the Violin Concerto with two antiphonal orchestras RV 581 (tracks 14-16): thick textures, heavy and trudging basses. This feels like, “ouch”. And go to Fabio Biondi – one of his first recordings, not with his Europa Galante ensemble but with counter-tenor Gerard Lesne’s Seminario Musicale, [[ASIN:B00000DNW5 Vivaldi - Salve Regina / Biondi · Il Seminario musical · Lesne]] – and hear not a big, juicy romantic tone like Jelka Stanic’s, much leaner, but hear also imaginative violin playing, going way beyond the written notes, adding wild improvisation at the cadential points in the first movement… and letting you fantasize what it might have been with Vivaldi himself played it. Giuliano Carmignola, [[ASIN:B0000245ZI Antonio Vivaldi Vivaldi: Violin Concertos / Concerto for Strings]], is much more score-bound than Biondi in the outer movements, but his violin playing is still way more interesting than Stanic’s; but his middle Largo is even wilder than Biondi, a long and ornate improvisation over Vivaldi’s melodic line. But, to be entirely fair, there is something to be said also in favor of Stanic’s simplicity there, just playing the notes as written. But the few individual moments or movements that still hold up today aren't enough to make this style of Vivaldi interpretation still valid today.

So, ultimately, who is this for? Nostalgics of the 1960s, people who grew up with that style of interpretation, learned their Vivaldi that way and want to stay there. But sometimes "before" is not better, and, in matters of Vivadli interpretation at least, I'm personnally glad to be "today".

TT 53:00. Most of Janigro's Vanguard Vivaldi, including this program, the Four Seasons and the Concerto for Two Trumpets RV 537, has been later reissued on Vanguard ATM-CD-1188, [[ASIN:B0000ADXFO Vivaldi: The Orchestral Masterpieces, Vol. 1- The Four Seasons & Other Concertos]] and ATM-CD-1264, [[ASIN:B0009NCPW4 Vivaldi Orchestral Masterpieces: Four Seasons and other concertos, Vol. 1]]. If you really want Janigro's Vivaldi, this is probably the set to get.


title: Vivaldi for the nolstalgics of the 60s - but cheaper editions elsewhere

text:
This used to be the budget edition, from Vanguard Europe, Vanguard 08 6128 71, of a CD first published as 08 2006 71 in Europe, [[ASIN:B0000254LU Concertos for diverse Instruments]], and OVC 2006 in the US, [[ASIN:B0000023A8 Vivaldi: Concerti for Diverse Instruments]]. Well, no more budget on the marketplace, and at the time of writing the US edition is a much better bargain. There's also an edition licensed by the Musical Heritage Society, which currently sells even cheaper, [[ASIN:B000K2NFFA Antonio Vivaldi: Concertos for Diverse Instruments]].

They are the reissue of an LP published at the end of 1964, Vanguard/The Bach Guild BG 665 (mono) / Stereolab BGS (stereo) 70665, “Concertos for diverse instruments”, all performed by I Solisti di Zagreb under Antonio Janigro. Contents are:

- Concerto for 2 Mandolins RV 532 with Anton Ganocki and Ferdo Pavlinek
- Concerto for Flute “La Notte” op. 10-2 RV 104 with Julius Baker (flute) and Karl Hoffmann (bassoon)
- Concerto for strings RV 158
- Concerto for Bassoon RV 495 with Rudolf Klepack
- Concerto for Violin & double string orchestra “Per la Ss Assunzione di Maria Vergine” RV 581 with Jelka Stanic.

The Concertos weren’t attributed any catalog number back then, but the presence of the solo bassoon in “La Notte” makes it unmistably the Chamber Concerto version of that work, RV 104, and not the Concerto version, RV 439. Note that the continuo harpsichordist is Herbert Tachezi, better known as the harpsichordist of Harnoncourt and his Concentus Musicus Wien.

This is Vivaldi from the mid-1960s, then. Back then, in the realm of Vivaldi interpretation, reigned ensembles like I Musici, Renato Fasano's I Virtuosi di Roma, Angelo Ephrikian and his Orchestra della Scuola Veneziana. Many among the older generation of music lovers grew up with that, but in the 1970s new groups appeared who became great Vivaldi champions, like Claudio Scimone’s I Solisti Veneti and Neville Marriner and his Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields (and I Musici continued), and they were superseded by the first period instrument ensembles in the early 1980s, Trevor Pinnock’s English Concert, Christopher Hogwood’s Academy of Ancient Music, Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s Vienna Concentus Musicus, and even they were the springboard to new generations of Vivaldi interperters that emerged in the 1990s, many of them from Italy, like Il Giardino Armonico or Fabio Biondi’s L’Europa Galante.

So, other than the nostalgia effect on those older generations, how does Janigro’s Vivaldi hold up today? Well, what did you expect? It sounds like Vivaldi in the 1960s.

Heard on its own, without any references, this kind of Vivaldi playing may, at its best, seem convincing. After all the music is beautiful, sunny, buoyant, colorful. But as soon as you start comparing, it appears, even at its best, as a bit too thick, a bit too ponderous, a bit too proper and solemn and lacking true jubilation, a bit too overtly sentimental in the slow movements: and Concerto for strings RV 158 is very typical: there’s so much life and dynamism with Concerto Köln ([[ASIN:B000001WM0 Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti For Wind And Strings / Concerto Koln]])  (and Tachezi’s loud and clanging harpsichord doesn’t help either in the saccharine Andante). Julius Baker in “La Notte” (CD 1 tracks 4-7) is not to blame but - to limit myself to recordings of the chamber concerto version, RV 104 - Camerata Köln in 1988 ([[ASIN:B00000E6VA Vivaldi: Flute Concerti Op. 10 - Camerata Köln [Deutsche Harmonia Mundi]]]), and even more Il Giardino Armonico in 1990 ([[ASIN:B000000SEM Antonio Vivaldi: Concerti da Camera, Vol. 1 (Concerti, Op. 10) - Giovanni Antonini / Il Giardino Armonico]]) have brought so much more expression, imagination and drama in that work - and revealed how much the work gains being played one to a part: Vanguard’s La Notte is pretty, theirs takes my breath away (and don’t miss, on You Tube, flautist Sebastian Marq and Jean-Christophe Spinosi live on Mezzo in the "full concerto" version, RV 439, played one to a part: this is not “classical music” anymore, it’s rock & roll!). Compared to Klaus Thunemann with I Musici in 1994, [[ASIN:B00000133A Vivaldi: 7 Bassoon Concertos]], Rudolf Klepac and I Solisti di Zagreb sound positively trudging. Klepac’s tone is fine enough, but Thunemann ornaments profusely and imaginatively, and it sounds great.

The Concerto for 2 mandolins RV 532 (tracks 1-3) sounds again colorful, but pedestrian in the outer movements, too grand and heavy in its orchestral textures and too loud, verging dangerously on the solemn at the expense of the jubilant, Vivaldi in St. Marco rather than at Ospedale della Pietà. But the middle Andante – a beautiful “raindrop” movement – is still today entirely valid, despite the higher pitch and hence more crystalline sounds of the two mandolins compared to the one is accustomed of hearing now, and the Finale of the same concerto is taken with a drive and enthusiasm that leaves even modern period-instrument ensembles behind and that I’ve seen emulated only by Il Giardino Armonico. The two mandolinists, Anton Ganocki and Ferdo Pavlinek, are superb, and wouldn’t disgrace a period-instrument ensemble of today.

But sometimes, you don’t even need to compare to anything else to sense that something is wrong, as in the Violin Concerto with two antiphonal orchestras RV 581 (tracks 14-16): thick textures, heavy and trudging basses. This feels like, “ouch”. And go to Fabio Biondi – one of his first recordings, not with his Europa Galante ensemble but with counter-tenor Gerard Lesne’s Seminario Musicale, [[ASIN:B00000DNW5 Vivaldi - Salve Regina / Biondi · Il Seminario musical · Lesne]] – and hear not a big, juicy romantic tone like Jelka Stanic’s, much leaner, but hear also imaginative violin playing, going way beyond the written notes, adding wild improvisation at the cadential points in the first movement… and letting you fantasize what it might have been with Vivaldi himself played it. Giuliano Carmignola, [[ASIN:B0000245ZI Antonio Vivaldi Vivaldi: Violin Concertos / Concerto for Strings]], is much more score-bound than Biondi in the outer movements, but his violin playing is still way more interesting than Stanic’s; but his middle Largo is even wilder than Biondi, a long and ornate improvisation over Vivaldi’s melodic line. But, to be entirely fair, there is something to be said also in favor of Stanic’s simplicity there, just playing the notes as written. But the few individual moments or movements that still hold up today aren't enough to make this style of Vivaldi interpretation still valid today.

So, ultimately, who is this for? Nostalgics of the 1960s, people who grew up with that style of interpretation, learned their Vivaldi that way and want to stay there. But sometimes "before" is not better, and, in matters of Vivadli interpretation at least, I'm personnally glad to be "today".

TT 53:00.