Antonio VIVALDI (1678-1741)
Vivaldi’s Children: Six Concertos Op. 10: No. 1 “La
Tempesta” [6:13]; No. 2 “La Notte” [8:56]; No. 3 “Il Gardellino” [9:02];
No. 4 [6:58]; No. 5 [8:09]; No. 6 [7:32]
William Boustany (flute)
Peter Manning, Stephen Morris (violins); Philip Dukes (viola); Tim
Hugh (cello); Mary Scully (double bass); Steven Devine (cembalo)
rec. 19-21 February 1998, St George’s Brandon Hill, Bristol
NIMBUS NI6167 [47:21]
On the surface there is little to distinguish this disc of Vivaldi’s
Op. 10 flute concertos. The cover art is rather eclectic and there
is little (if any) explanation in the booklet note as to why the disc
has been given the title it has. However, the playing is lovely throughout
and it’s certainly worth a second look.
You can tell from the list of players that this is an “occasional”
ensemble, in the sense that they have no name - all the players are
credited individually - and so must have been assembled specially
for the purpose of recording this disc. This testifies to a special
commitment to this music and this disc. It’s also likely that the
players must all have known one another, and that helps to give the
music a sense of communal enterprise that never once sounds amateur.
They play on modern instruments, so the sound is rather akin to some
of the Vivaldi playing we were used to before the “period” movement
began, but not so big-boned as there are only seven performers. Wissam
Boustany’s flute playing, which leads the ensemble, is very appealing,
both lyrical and virtuosic, especially in the quickfire finale of
No. 6. The string band upholds him beautifully.
As for the music itself, the disc gets off to a delightful start with
a light-as-a-feather account of La Tempesta which features
an especially impressive first movement. La Notte, on the
other hand, is appropriately languid, with its faster interludes tapered
by the overall nocturnal mood. The trilling of the goldfinch is beautifully
evoked in the slow movement of No. 3. No. 4 is dominated by a light-hearted
drone which lends a touch of weight to the first two movements. This
is then thrown to the winds with a light-hearted, dance-like finale
which trips and lilts its way across the music. However, the most
interesting concerto on the disc, for me, was No. 5. The first movement
has a lighter tone in general, with the delicacy of a painting by
Fragonard. This is followed by a Largo of disarming seriousness,
the flute singing a poignant lament against the gently thrumming bed
of strings. The finale then eschews this former seriousness with a
tripping Allegro that seems to kick off all the drama of
the preceding movement. It’s extraordinary, if only for its schizophrenic
personality.
Good music and good playing, then, and some of the proceeds from the
disc also go to charity. My principal complaint is that, at less than
50 minutes of music, the disc isn’t very generously filled.
[Mr Boustany has said: “Your point about the short playing time of
the cd is also very important, of course. When I made the recording
I thought of including a couple of other pieces, but this group of
six concertos was so tidy and self-sufficient ... it felt like adding
more would somehow diminish the impact of these exquisite musical
jewels. I didn’t want to stuff the cd, just because there was time
left, so I decided in favour of keeping the cd lean and focused. Maybe
I was wrong to do that, but when you buy a beautiful book that is
a complete statement within itself, you don’t measure it by the pages
in relation to the cost - I believe the true value should lie in the
completeness of message within. More is not always better, in my view
(oh no... I am beginning to sound like George Osborne and his tiresome
austerity measures now!). Seriously though, I do concede that
some people might feel short-changed by the length of the playing
time (hopefully the charity dimension might help make up for this?)”]
Simon Thompson
see also review
by Brian Wilson
