As The Flautadors point
out in their booklet note there’s contemporary
evidence that recorders were often used
both in court and the theatres in Purcell’s
time, though "the recorder quartet
never appeared as such". Soprano,
alto, tenor and bass recorders can play
music in four parts mainly intended
for strings. However, their fuller tone
and rather more diffuse sound creates
a subtle change in the impact of the
music.
Fantazia 6 begins with
a very bright, assertive descant soprano
recorder and the others lively in imitation.
Its slow section (tr. 6 1:32) is tense
in its sustained deliberation after
which its quick one (2:37) is cheerful
and at peace with itself before the
slow coda (3:18) formally rounds things
off. I compared a consort of viols,
the 2005 recording by the Ricercar Consort/Philippe
Pierlot (Mirare MIR 012). Their beginning
is sheenier in its top line and lighter
in imitation, a more cultivated sound
and flowing contours but not as buoyant
in character as the Flautadors whose
emotion is more up front. The Ricercar
slow section has more poise and telling
harmonies in its quieter, more reserved
manner but the Flautadors provide a
more direct tension. The Ricercar quick
section is lightly joyous, the Flautadors’
has more glistening delight and glee
about it before a satisfying coda even
if it doesn’t have the Ricercar dignity.
In Fantazia 7 the Flautadors
start coolly contemplative. The chromatic
harmonies have an icy clarity and there’s
a pleading that’s fraught and insistent
with a slightly faster pulse than the
Ricercar, overall timing 4:17 against
4:10. By contrast the Ricercar opening
is warmly ruminative and the pleading
quality is gentle. The Flautadors’ brisk
section (tr. 7 2:01), on the other hand,
has a stimulating, piping manner where
the Ricercar is lighter yet with an
element of abandon. The Flautadors’
slow section (2:31) remains assertive
before a neat quick one (3:16) and slightly
more sedate ‘drag’ coda (3:31). The
Ricercar find more nuance later in the
slow section, after the rests, still
some abandon in the quick one and a
rather more spacious coda.
Fantazia 11 is well
suited to recorders: with their gently
rising sunny nature the entries come
serene and confident. The Ricercar recording
is of a more reflective cast but still
quite appreciative and glowing. A more
wary, clouded spell occurs in the section
marked ‘drag’ (tr. 19 1:27), directly
addressed by the Flautadors though not,
like the Ricercar, tenderly, searchingly
expressive. In the brisk section which
follows (2:12) the sunshine bursts out
again and the recorders piquantly display
a cheery ebullience in the abundant
running quavers, though the Ricercar
faster tempo, 3:17 against the Flautadors’
3:32, allows the viols a defter, more
darting, glinting character here.
Fantazia 12 begins
with a more sober, soulful theme. The
Flautadors are more outward looking
and dramatic than the Ricercar inward
looking, expressive flowing lament.
The Flautadors’ quick section (tr. 20
2:05) is more animated and agitated.
Only one other currently
available CD presents Purcell chamber
and theatre music on recorders, that
by La Simphonie du Marais/Hugo Reyne
(Virgin 561937 2). Just 3 tracks out
of 27 both have in common. The Prelude
for unaccompanied recorder is presented
by the Flautadors, it’s not documented
which one, in sepulchral register of,
I presume, bass recorder, with something
of the gravity of its ground bass foundation
yet also able to take wing in semiquaver
runs. The contrasts in timing and phrasing
give the piece an improvisatory feel.
Hugo Reyne plays an alto recorder in
more lively fashion and with more emphasis
on progression, timing at 1:02 against
the Flautadors’ 1:11, but the latter
account makes a fair case for its greater
measure.
The chaconne ‘Two in
one upon a ground’ from Act 3 of Dioclesian
is presented by the Flautadors with
a smooth ambience yet also a lively
dancing character as befits a theatrical
piece. Use of recorders alone, without
continuo, emphasises this basic quality.
In this performance the ground itself
is repeated as a solo at the end, echoing
the beginning. Reyne’s account uses
two recorders above bass viol and guitar,
to more sultry, luxuriant effect but
the Flautadors are considerably pacier,
2:20 without the ground repeat against
Reyne’s 3:14, which makes the imitation
between the upper two recorders seem
more spontaneous and the whole more
freshly appealing.
‘Three parts upon a
ground’ is given a performance by the
Flautadors with theorbo continuo which
is creamy in tone yet flows with appreciable
purpose, bubbling over with happy imitation
between the recorders, a celebration
of assured delivery and convivial atmosphere.
Particularly memorable are the scampering
semiquavers in the eighth appearance
of the ground bass (tr. 27 1:09), the
emphatic cavorting dotted rhythms from
the twentieth appearance (3:12) and
the fluttering semiquavers in the twenty
third (3:42). Reyne’s account is rather
stiffened by a much heavier bass provided
by bass viol, theorbo and harpsichord
though the recorders chirp away over
it in the faster rhythms merrily enough.
The Flautadors are a little slower,
4:52 against Reyne’s 4:43, less flightily
virtuosic, but the piece’s structure
and contrasts are thereby more apparent
while the performance itself is engaging
enough.
Purcell’s stage music
is featured at the beginning of this
CD with the Chaconne from King Arthur
perkily done and a performance of
attractive transparency, especially
the two uppermost recorders skipping
together a third apart in the seventh
appearance of the ground (tr. 1 1:14)
and even the appearances in F minor
from 2:02 seem just cool. Later this
CD presents a Theatre Suite of pieces
in G minor. The Overture (tr. 21) is
one attributed to The Tempest
and possibly not by Purcell. The Flautadors
give us a concentrated, formal slow
introduction and neat, quick second
section. In the Curtain Tune from Timon
of Athens (tr. 22) the ground bass
is heard on its own first so you’re
clear about it and can more readily
appreciate the 3 recorder parts’ embellishments
over it becoming more elaborate, first
rhythmically and melodically, then in
terms of harmony. The Air from Abdelazer
(tr. 23) is sparklingly fast and uninhibited.
Were it on strings you’d call it folksy
but I doubt they could play it as fast.
The Triumphing Dance from Dido and
Aeneas (tr. 24) then lets the sunshine
in, a C major holiday in this G minor
suite, recorders exuberant in high register
and guitar adding spice to the repeat.
The Jig from Abdelazer (tr. 25)
gets a terrific performance, the first
recorder imaginatively ornamenting the
repeats of the melody and then the whole
repeated with guitar and even more embellishment.
You can see a dancer on stage really
getting into his stride. The final Air
from Abdelazer (tr. 26) makes
for a fizzing close.
There’s also a Theatre
Suite of pieces by Matthew Locke, who
showed the possibilities of individuality
in theatre and chamber music before
Purcell. The ceremonial flourish of
the opening of ‘The Fantastick’ (tr.
8) gives way to a lively dance and then
from 0:50 a vivacious yet quite courtly
Corant. The following Aire (tr. 9) is
an assertive, confident dance with somewhat
gaunt, pungent harmonies. The Symphony
at the descending of Venus (tr. 10)
is the only item which can specifically
be placed theatrically, in Psyche
(1675), as this music assists her chariot
to glide smoothly down, a moment of
wonder and beauty. The Act Tune (tr.
11) can be nonchalant or, in its repeats,
bracing, depending on the recorder on
the top line. A jaunty Symphony (tr.
12), with the last 4 bars here repeated
a second time, rounds the suite off
decisively. In the heading I’ve put
the page numbers of the items in the
modern edition in Musica Britannica
volume 51.
Two of Locke’s six
suites from the ‘Consort of Four Parts’
also feature. Suite 4’s opening Fantasia
(tr. 2) has clear entries of the four
parts in turn, a bold manner, now a
chirrupy progression, now sober contrast
and stately close. Its following Courante
(tr. 3) is cheery, its Ayre (tr. 4)
more reflective but still bright in
sonority, especially at the close. Its
Sarabande (tr. 5) is light, jolly and
closest to an actual dance. Suite 3’s
Fantasia (tr. 15) is fuller in texture
and more intensely contemplative from
the outset, the imitation in the second
section (1:59) coming as a sunny relief.
But its blithe Courante (tr. 16) is
increasingly merry, its Ayre (tr. 17)
neatly turned if a little studious here,
while its Sarabande (tr. 18) trips along
without a care in the world.
These recorder performances
don’t displace the better known ones
on strings but they do offer a fresh
perspective. Here is dedicated music-making
and an airy recording which make you
respect the Flautadors’ initiative,
but the exuberance of the theatre pieces
is very enjoyable as well.
Michael Greenhalgh
for details
The Flautadors Recorder Quartet 
