It is well known that there was only one composer working 
          in London in the 18th century. Pity any musician who had the misfortune 
          to be active at the time that Mr Handel was doing his thing. Handel’s 
          titanic genius notwithstanding, he was actually a representative of 
          his era, and it was an era packed with musical activity. London in the 
          Georgian era was the musical capital of Europe and it is undeniable 
          that there were periods when Handel was out of popular favour. Music 
          still went on and it was those obscure contemporaries who were filling 
          the concert halls. The trouble with most of them is that they sound 
          like Handel - but aren’t Handel. This underlines the point, of course, 
          that Handel was but a representative voice of his era. His great contemporaries 
          in London were the two senior native-born composers; William Boyce and 
          Dr Thomas Arne. This double disc of music by Arne includes a great variety 
          of his wonderfully skilful writing. Especially as a vocal melodist Arne 
          was highly revered and his settings of the English language are masterly. 
          The recording here of ‘The Soldier tir’d’ from Arne’s most famous stage 
          work - Artaxerxes - is a wonderfully un-modern performance which breaks 
          all the rules of period performance interpretations. But can Joan Sutherland 
          sing? Forget the stodgy playing of the Royal Opera House Orchestra, 
          or that the harpsichord sounds like it’s strung with fencing wire. When 
          La Stupenda gets going up to her top C the result makes your 
          hair stand on end. The track is only 4’03" long, but it makes the 
          whole double disc worthwhile. 
        
 
        
Other singers include Robert Tear, recorded in 1969. 
          Usually, this writer comes down heavily in favour of period instrument 
          performances and vocal styles, but like Sutherland, the sheer quality 
          of Tear’s voice makes one forgive any number of ‘unstylistic’ features. 
          His diction is superb; his phrasing is impeccable and he sounds like 
          he really understands what he is singing about, albeit in the 
          manner of the late 60s. In comparison, Emma Kirkby with the Academy 
          of Ancient Music in songs from Comus, Rosamond and The Tempest, sounds 
          rather too thin and virginal to be completely satisfying. The earliest 
          recording is the final track of disc 2, sung by Jennifer Vyvyan with 
          Ernest Lush at the piano. While this may also be interesting in its 
          own right, the piano accompaniment of an orchestral song of the 18th 
          century is just too far from the original to be viable. Given that both 
          the discs are well over 70 minutes long, it was an inclusion that would 
          have been better left out. 
        
 
        
Of the orchestral works, the highlight must be the 
          eight overtures that make up most of disc 1. The Academy of Ancient 
          Music on period instruments play these works with a lightness and grace 
          that really brings out the character. Made in 1973, even these are nearly 
          historic recordings and the intonation and ensemble is certainly a lot 
          rougher than we expect from period bands of today. However, there is 
          an excitement in the performances that is often found in recordings 
          from the early days of the period instrument revival; a sense of rediscovery 
          and of saying something really new. The later highly polished performances 
          too often lack that missionary zeal. In comparison with these, the keyboard 
          concertos make only ‘interesting’ listening. The performances of George 
          Malcolm at the harpsichord, with the Academy of St Martin-in-the-Fields, 
          and of Jean Guillou at the organ of an unidentified Lutheran Church 
          in Berlin, accompanied by the Berlin Brandenburg Orchestra, are enjoyable 
          inasmuch as they remind us of the way baroque music used to be performed. 
          There is much beauty (too much, in the case of some of the string playing, 
          where accompaniments become over important) and some fine musicianship, 
          but the ‘language’ of the instrumental sound is all wrong. As in some 
          of the orchestral continuo, George Malcolm’s harpsichord sounds like 
          Beecham’s famous description of two skeletons copulating on a tin roof. 
          Reconstructions of 18th century harpsichords were still a few years 
          away, and the 1960s versions were basically characterless. The organ 
          has the same sort of problems. It is not a bad sounding instrument and 
          it is very well played, but it is not an English 18th century sound 
          and this is important. Arne, like Handel, did not write for pedals or 
          reeds and had in mind an instrument that was basically a box of recorders 
          with a keyboard. Thus, aspects of articulation and ‘chiff’ (the way 
          the sound from an organ pipe begins) are very important. 
        
 
        
It must be admitted that this double disc is enjoyable 
          to listen to. However, as with so many compilation discs made from the 
          back-catalogue, the choice of recordings is limited to what is available 
          in that catalogue, or, as here, becomes too much of a pot-pourri of 
          period- and non-period performances; of bits of this and bits of that. 
          If Decca had decided on a pair of single discs they could have avoided 
          some of the less pleasant juxtapositions and still had two discs of 
          interesting Arne. However, taken in the knowledge of what type of disc 
          this is, it is a worthwhile listen. 
        
 
         
        
Peter Wells 
         
        
        
See also review by Jonathan 
          Woolf