Vilém Veverka’s new disc combines six oboe concertos by the three greatest
baroque composers: Three of Vivaldi’s, who wrote a total 17 (see
Robert Hugill’s review), one of Telemann’s, who wrote a
total of 8 (see
Michael Cookson’s review), and two of Bach’s, who wrote none. The
latter alchemy is not unusual in Bach—Veverka takes the very incomplete
Concerto for Harpsichord in D minor, BWV 1059, stuffs it with gorgeous
cantata movements, and
voilŕ: Taxidermist-Bach (with all-Bach
ingredients) that’s gorgeous enough not to question how it’s sewn together.
Similarly the concerto that gets billing as BWV 49 / 169. Those are
cantata-numbers, as the keen Bachian will observe, and again it needed a
call to Dr. Frankenstein to turn two Köthen cantatas, specifically the
sinfonia and another movement of BWV 169 (
Gott soll allein mein Herze
haben) and the last movement of BWV 49 (
Ich geh und suche mit
Verlangen), into a new concerto. There’s rhyme and reason to this: the
former stems from what may or may not been a concerto for flute or oboe or
sackbut or jazz-harmonica and the latter from an equally hypothetical and
plausible but lost concerto that in turn stood model for the Keyboard
Concerto, BWV 1053. As a Bach-lover and keen on the oboe (as was Bach
himself), I’m all for that sort of thing.
Veverka, a former member of the Berlin Phil, has an assertive, pure tune …
not so much charming-beautiful but cutting-beautiful … like the woman (or
man) you would adore from afar, but not the type to cuddle up with. There’s
a captivating, almost entrancing perfection to his playing, a solidity, that
makes this disc eminently listenable. In displaying that, I find he also has
a way of making everything on this disc sound the same … which might be
thought of as elevating Vivaldi and Telemann or, less kindly, bulldozing
Bach. That’s too unkind, actually. Vivaldi and Telemann, however prolific
with concertos, are masters in this genre and treat the instrument most
movingly. The virtuoso flash in Vivaldi doesn’t come as a surprise, but the
extraordinarily dancing quality might. The first movement, in particular, of
the Vivaldi Concerto RV455 is pure dance, as are his fast movements
generally: lots of pep and pop and with an uplifting energy. Telemann
infuses a human warmth and wistful, singing element into the concertos that
is repeatedly fascinating. A plangent shift in harmony in the slow movement
of the Telemann concerto (TWV51:d1) sounds like a glorious goose singing a
funeral lament. Serenely touching, lest you dislike geese.
Nor is that above quip quite the gist I get from the disc. I am much
rather struck by a notion how this sounds like a “standard-setting, go-to
recording” of this repertoire, but in the way there were such first-choice
recordings in the more homogenous record market of, say, the early 1990s.
I’m reminded of Ludwig Güttler in trumpet concertos, although Veverka and
Ensemble 18 naturally display to every degree the increased
perfectionism in performance since then and to some degree the increased
awareness of historic performance practice. The record makes me want to hear
more of Veverka but it also makes me want to seek out original instrument
recordings of each of these concertos. The 9-piece
Ensemble 18 is
relegated to backup music-making, but they do that with spunk and a sense
for drama. Slightly souring is the English translation of the liner-notes;
the better German translation is revealing.
Jens Laurson
