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An 18th-Century treat for 21st-Century commoners
Buxtehude Consort plays Telemann and Handel
Tom Purdom
George Phillipp Telemann claimed he didn't like concertos, although he wrote 125 of them between 1716 and 1725. The concerto puts the soloist in the spotlight; Telemann preferred a "conversational style" that treats all the instruments as equals.
Telemann's concerto in F Major for recorder and bassoon satisfies both ideals. The two soloists display their talents in proper concerto style, but they engage in a genuine dialogue with each other.
The Buxtehude Consort opened its latest concert with a performance of Telemann's F Major Concerto that teamed two guests from Tempesta di Mare with a warm, resonant period instrument orchestra. Gwyn Roberts contributed an exceptionally expressive recorder line. Anna March's bassoon is a less assertive instrument by nature, but its soft murmur added an indispensable element to the mood of the piece.
Arrogant lover
The evening's headliner was Handel's cantata Apollo e Dafne. As the story begins, Apollo has just slain a world-threatening monster, and he boasts that the deeds he accomplishes with his bow outclass the trivial escapades that Eros initiates with his little weapon. Eros responds with a two-pronged attack: Apollo gets hit with an arrow that makes him fall in love with Dafne, and Dafne receives a blunt arrow that makes her run from love.
Apollo begins as a boastful conqueror, and he isn't any more likeable as a lover. He woos Dafne by arrogantly reminding her that he is a god and she is a mere mortal whose charms will soon fade. He doesn't come to his senses and display some human decency until Dafne flees to her father, the river god Peneus, who saves her from rape by turning her into a laurel tree.
Baritone John Fowler could have supplied more force when he delivered Apollo's opening boasts. He also could have added more ornamentation to Apollo's part, in my opinion. Trills and other ornaments may look like excessive decoration to modern minds, but they play important roles in Baroque music. They accent emotion and provide displays of technique that generate the same kind of excitement that violinists produce with their hands when they tackle bravura passages.
But Fowler's dialogues with Dafne captured the spirit of their repartee. Soprano Clara Rottsolk played Dafne with the passion of someone who understands why Italian is the natural language of operas and romantic cantatas.
Palace entertainment
Apollo e Dafne lacks a part for Eros, and the text skips directly from Apollo's boast to his encounter with Dafne, with no mention of Eros's mischievous assault on Apollo's hubris. Handel and his librettist could assume an educated 18th-Century audience would be familiar with the story.
Apollo e Dafne is essentially a high-class entertainment created for the pleasure of small groups of culturally sophisticated aristocrats gathered in their palaces and country houses. It radiates the civilized warmth that's one of the major charms of much of the Baroque repertoire.
The Buxtehude Consort successfully reproduced that atmosphere, and an audience of modern day commoners got to bask in its glow. We middle class types may be falling behind the 21st Century super-rich, but at least we can claim we've caught up with the 18th-Century aristocracy.
Telemann's concerto in F Major for recorder and bassoon satisfies both ideals. The two soloists display their talents in proper concerto style, but they engage in a genuine dialogue with each other.
The Buxtehude Consort opened its latest concert with a performance of Telemann's F Major Concerto that teamed two guests from Tempesta di Mare with a warm, resonant period instrument orchestra. Gwyn Roberts contributed an exceptionally expressive recorder line. Anna March's bassoon is a less assertive instrument by nature, but its soft murmur added an indispensable element to the mood of the piece.
Arrogant lover
The evening's headliner was Handel's cantata Apollo e Dafne. As the story begins, Apollo has just slain a world-threatening monster, and he boasts that the deeds he accomplishes with his bow outclass the trivial escapades that Eros initiates with his little weapon. Eros responds with a two-pronged attack: Apollo gets hit with an arrow that makes him fall in love with Dafne, and Dafne receives a blunt arrow that makes her run from love.
Apollo begins as a boastful conqueror, and he isn't any more likeable as a lover. He woos Dafne by arrogantly reminding her that he is a god and she is a mere mortal whose charms will soon fade. He doesn't come to his senses and display some human decency until Dafne flees to her father, the river god Peneus, who saves her from rape by turning her into a laurel tree.
Baritone John Fowler could have supplied more force when he delivered Apollo's opening boasts. He also could have added more ornamentation to Apollo's part, in my opinion. Trills and other ornaments may look like excessive decoration to modern minds, but they play important roles in Baroque music. They accent emotion and provide displays of technique that generate the same kind of excitement that violinists produce with their hands when they tackle bravura passages.
But Fowler's dialogues with Dafne captured the spirit of their repartee. Soprano Clara Rottsolk played Dafne with the passion of someone who understands why Italian is the natural language of operas and romantic cantatas.
Palace entertainment
Apollo e Dafne lacks a part for Eros, and the text skips directly from Apollo's boast to his encounter with Dafne, with no mention of Eros's mischievous assault on Apollo's hubris. Handel and his librettist could assume an educated 18th-Century audience would be familiar with the story.
Apollo e Dafne is essentially a high-class entertainment created for the pleasure of small groups of culturally sophisticated aristocrats gathered in their palaces and country houses. It radiates the civilized warmth that's one of the major charms of much of the Baroque repertoire.
The Buxtehude Consort successfully reproduced that atmosphere, and an audience of modern day commoners got to bask in its glow. We middle class types may be falling behind the 21st Century super-rich, but at least we can claim we've caught up with the 18th-Century aristocracy.
What, When, Where
Buxtehude Consort: Telemann, Concerto a 6 in F Major (Gwyn Roberts, recorder; Ann Marsh, Baroque bassoon); Handel, Apollo e Dafne (Clara Rottsolk, soprano; John Fowler, baritone). John Fowler, Artistic Director. February 17, 2012 at St. Peter’s Church, Third and Pine Sts. www.buxtehudeconsort.org.
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