It
is a great pleasure to have Iona Brown’s recording of Telemann
concertos back in the catalog – courtesy of the Decca/Philips
Eloquence series. This has been a favorite record ever since
I bought my copy as a college freshman. Listening to it now,
several years later, it is as much a joy to hear as it was then.
Deducting nostalgic attachment and the ‘emotional footprint’
that such long-cherished recordings leave in one’s perception,
the 1983 recording stands up very well to the very little competition.
The
five concertos are played a little more
tamely than we are now used to from
“HIP” baroque bands and those influenced
by them. There’s a charming and broad,
unapologetic old-fashionedness about
the Academy’s bright playing (A=440hz),
and this suits these Telemann concertos
which are themselves neither particularly
challenging nor deep works. I should
add that they include the apocryphal
concerto “No.11” in B-flat major which
is not the recently discovered TWV 51:B1
but most likely from the skilled hand
of Johann Ludwig Horn.
Telemann
himself just short of disavowed these early works from his time
in Eisenach. He says, in his 1718 autobiography: “I have to
admit / that they have never grown dear to my heart / even though
I wrote quite a lot of them. … I find in them many difficulties
and crooked leaps / but little harmony and worse harmony, still…”.
He
may have been a little harsh on himself, because slight or not,
they present a baroque pleasantry in the best sense. And surely
we care little today, some 300 years later, whether his style
was old-fashioned - akin to Corelli, Albinoni, and Torelli;
often employing the “Sonata da chiesa” – slow-fast-slow-fast
– form - in the light of the ‘modern’ Vivaldi concertos that
appeared at the time.
The
combination of soloist and the string orchestra is striking
for its coherence and eschews the flashy parts for a dominant
soloist. Instead they are more interested in give and take between
tutti and soloist. The last of the five concertos on this disc
is the lovely G minor concerto with its plaintive slow movement
that was good enough to be transcribed by Bach for harpsichord
(BWV 985).
There
are not many recordings of these semi-precious concertos around
– and between the few there are, there is little overlap. Direct
comparison to Elizabeth Wallfisch’s excellent recordings of
the Telemann concertos meanwhile (volumes
1 and 2
reviewed by Jonathan Woolf) is not terribly enlightening. Apart
from the different pitch, there is much grater intensity, seriousness,
agility and explosiveness to be had with the L’Orfeo Barockorchester
than ASMF. Next to each other, they
almost sound like different pieces. Much as I like Wallfisch,
the almost lush renditions with Iona Brown soaring above it
all have a charm that is more than just old-fashioned: they
are plain good. Chicken Soup for the Baroque Soul.
Included
on the other disc is the recording of Telemann’s Twelve Fantasias
for Violin Solo by Arthur Grumiaux. There is no need to pretend
that these works are anywhere near the Bach Sonatas and Partitas
but high-quality baroque repertoire for solo violin is relatively
scarce and this is, alongside the Rosary Sonatas of Biber, at
the top of the heap. They may well have inspired the musical
romantic notion of a “Fantasy” because Telemann, too, adheres
to no model or concept. They are similar only in length – and
then only roughly.
I
adore Grumiaux and most of his recordings – but I’ll gladly
admit that I find his solo Bach dispiritingly monotonous. His
Telemann is better in that regard, daring the occasional variation
in timbre and dynamic shading. This 1970 recording is worlds
away from the more recent HIP renditions of Andrew Manze (HMU)
and Rachel Podger (Channel Classics). The latter players’ flexibility
pays dividends – especially as regards speed or lack thereof:
both Podger and Manze dare to be slow. As such this is a fine
document of Grumiaux and an excellent bonus to the Iona Brown
concertos rather than the primary reason for purchase – even
if he does get top billing.
The
sound is very good for both recordings if perhaps a tad boxy with
the Fantasias. There are two errant, unidentifiable ‘plops’ on
track four.
Jens Laurson
Arthur Grumiaux (violin,
fantasias)
