Jean-Philippe 
                Rameau was roughly a contemporary of Bach, and began his musical 
                career as an organist and composer of several books of harpsichord 
                music. In 1741 he published a set of Pièces de clavecin 
                en concerts, or harpsichord "concerts". These works are neither 
                concertos nor sonatas, but rather compositions where the harpsichord 
                and violin have equal importance. While similar works generally 
                featured only a violin in addition to the harpsichord, Rameau 
                added to his a bass viol, giving these pieces more depth. In fact, 
                while the violin parts in these works are simple, and sound like 
                mere embellishments, the viol parts are complex. (The liner notes 
                by Charles Medlam suggest that they are "in some instances close 
                to unplayable".)  
              
 
              
But 
                these works don't come at all close to the intensity or the harmonic 
                universe of Rameau's operas, for which the composer is best known. 
                These highly attractive pieces are light and enjoyable, and full 
                of melodic invention — just because they don't attain the same 
                level of quality as Rameau's operas does not mean that they are 
                inferior works. Rameau explores a variety of harmonic and contrapuntal 
                effects among the three instruments, and the viol is never fully 
                a solo instrument nor is it ever entirely a continuo instrument. 
                 
              
 
              
One 
                can appreciate this very good recording, and especially its excellent 
                sound, yet remain unmoved by the interpretation offered by London 
                Baroque. While technically the pieces are performed impeccably, 
                they lack inspiration at times. The slow movements often sound 
                slow; not deep, intense or emotive. The second movement of Concert 
                No. 2 seems to plod, and the beauty of the harmonies between the 
                harpsichord and violin don't become apparent. Comparing this with 
                London Baroque's previous disc (a transcription of Bach's trio 
                sonatas for organ) shows that this recording pales in comparison. 
                In the Bach, London Baroque make the slow movements intense meditations. 
                Here, I cannot feel very much apart from the notes.  
              
 
              
The 
                musicians are more effective when playing the fast movements, 
                and Rameau's inventiveness comes through here very well. The final 
                movement of Concert No. 3 has the tone of some of the orchestral 
                interludes included in his operas, and London Baroque perform 
                this energetic music convincingly. The same is the case for the 
                final movement of Concert No. 5, La Marais, where the violin 
                takes off into the higher ranges and sings over the articulate 
                harpsichord. But here, as in some other movements, the harpsichord 
                is recorded too far back, and the listener hears more of a violin 
                sonata than a "concert for harpsichord".  
              
 
              
Perhaps 
                my criticism is unjust, and in part fuelled by the excellent quality 
                of the several recent recordings of these works. Comparing this 
                recording with the one made by Blandine Rannou (for Zig-Zag Territoires) 
                shows that Rannou infuses these works with much more vigour and 
                verve, while London Baroque are more staid.  
              
 
              
London 
                Baroque give a commendable performance, but one that remains too 
                much on the surface and doesn't plumb the depths of these fine 
                works.  
              
 
              
Kirk 
                McElhearn