This is part of an
Apex reissue series devoted to the recordings
of I soloisti Veneti and their director
Claudio Scimone. As with many of the
others – Tartini with Piero Toso, Vivaldi
with Jean-Pierre Rampal and Albinoni
– the recordings were made in the 1970s.
This one has a difference of opinion;
the jewel box claims 1979 for the Amoyal
Sonatas but the booklet notes claim
1977. It’s good in any case to welcome
them back to the fold.
It’s the Frenchman
who bears the greatest burden in this
set, which makes the democratic artwork
so unrepresentative and the blizzard
of blank pages in the booklet does speak
of a certain level of ungenerosity.
Toso is a good fiddle player but he’s
not in Amoyal’s class – so I’d have
preferred some typographical credit
for the man who has nearly both these
discs to himself, the excellent and
eloquent Amoyal. His tight silvery tone
illumines the E minor Concerto even
if a recurring problem of the disc is
immediately apparent; he’s been placed
rather too far forward of I soloisti
Veneti for entirely comfortable listening
and they do sound rather distant behind
him. His elegant phrasing and the cloudy
veil that Scimone summons from the orchestra
give expressive feeling to the slow
movements. Amoyal even enlivens proceedings
with some discreet portamenti; his cadenza
in the opening Allegro of the G major
Concerto is also suitably grand. Toso
proves a commendable soloist in the
D minor and cellist Zannerini despatches
the A major well enough – though there’s
an odd moment of pitch lurch in the
finale. Good performances these in the
main though the bass attacks are somewhat
over forceful and the luscious orchestral
string tone can be rather unremitting.
The second disc has
the sonatas and not just the Devil’s
Trill. There’s good balance between
the trio and I was taken by the genial
and warm way they span the Affettuoso
first movement of the G major, not as
easy a feat as it may seem. Amoyal varies
his vibrato cannily in the Adagio of
the F major – slowing appreciably to
good effect - and his trill and bowing
are on good form in the same sonata’s
finale. It’s certainly of value to hear
an essentially modern minded fiddler
playing with a quasi-authentic set up
of harpsichord and anchoring cello.
To my ears, though, his anti-virtuosic
performance doesn’t really take flight
in the Devil’s Trill – but then
perhaps that was part of the musical
point he was making.
Jonathan Woolf