The
disc’s title derives from some lines of Richard Steele’s
in the epilogue to his The Tender Husband,
written in 1706 – “From Foreign Insult save this English
Stage/No more th’Italian squalling Tribe admit/In Tongues
unknown; ‘tis Popery in Wit.” Naturally kicking a foreigner
for being Italian brings with it the delicious corollary
of being allowed to kick Catholics as well. But Steele’s
politico-linguistic protectionism was of little avail and
a continental quilt of composers covered the Court and
the concert hall and the music room. In much the same way,
over two centuries later, British musicians went to the
Ministry of Labour and demanded restrictions on foreign
imports – as if musicians were like coal, or cars, or footballers – and
were similarly rebuffed.
The
familiar cry has always been that it takes time to succeed
in London but when you do you’re made for life there. True
or not, the composers here all made careers, long or short,
in London. Barsanti and Matteis were new to me and their
contributions are of the ultra-populist “Scotch” variety.
Barsanti’s collection, from which a selection has been
chosen, is majorly a solo trip for the recorder. For long,
stark moments it spills its folksy highland ditty without
any support. Matteis is made of stronger musical stuff,
despite the protestations of his title, Ground after
the Scotch Humour. Once again it’s written for recorder,
the fine Annette Berryman taking the honours - as she does
elsewhere on the oboe. Vigorous and short though the ground
may be this is a winning acquaintance and is full of subtle
touches.
Handel’s
Concerto HWV 287 is notable for the oboe playing of Brian
Berryman in the Sarabande. Their Trio is quite stylishly
done. In the main La Ricordanza, an original instrument
group, offers Handel playing that is middle of the road
in terms of asperity. There’s little of the Brook Street
Band’s rather larger than life chamber playing. They’re
closer to the suaver kind of sound cultivated by the London
Handel Players.
Gottfried
Finger’s Sonata is over in a flash – some pretty arabesques
but rather a conventional work. Abel’s Concerto cleaves
to the Handelian model, though it does so attractively.
Of more forward-looking impulse is J.C. Bach’s Quintet – it’s
a buoyant piece, a touch Baroque-by-the yard maybe, but
splendidly set out for flute, oboe and strings.
This
is an entertaining look at expatriates in London in the
eighteenth century. The music is not, in truth, overwhelming
but the performances are just, if a touch reserved. Slightly
too spacious a recorded perspective but that’s a very minor
point.
Jonathan Woolf
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La Ricordanza 
