This ‘Concord of Sweet
Sounds’ is, as the title suggests, a
real sweetie of a disc; what the Dutch
call a ‘snoepje’, a word which has been
known to cause sane men almost to leave
the country. I particularly wanted to
hear this disc, having admired Lisa
Beznosiuk’s playing with the English
Concert under Trevor Pinnock, but also
because I had lessons with her for a
short time at the R.A.M. I think I must
have been her worst student, swiftly
realising how difficult it would be
to manage all of those new fingerings
and mastering the art of playing a perforated,
hollowed-out branch in tune. I also
had the disadvantage of being given
the worst travesty of a traverso from
the R.A.M. stock cupboard: a heavy,
thick-walled black lump of tree with
all the resonance of a wet sock. A bad
workman blames his tools, yes, but even
so the thing had what looked like chewing
gum in some of the finger holes – someone’s
attempt to coax the thing into some
kind of very mean temperament. The case
was a beautiful wooden box, but the
contents inspired only the musical equivalent
of baroque road-rage, which (for the
uninitiated) manifests itself by severe
handkerchief waving, incipient back
trouble, a revolving wig and antique
words like ‘domme’ muttered under the
breath.
Enough warm nostalgia:
this CD was recorded a year or so after
the above memories became engrained
into my musical experience, so our soloist
apparently suffered no ill effects.
For those of you unfamiliar with the
sound of early flutes, think of the
sound of a fairly large recorder – an
alto or bass – but with more volume,
greater expressive and dynamic range,
and more flexibility in terms of tone
forming in general. The elliptical,
beautifully supple sound Beznosiuk makes
is one you can listen to for a very
long time indeed, and Nigel North’s
accompaniments are equally sensitive
and perfectly balanced.
The programme is also
delightful. Locatelli’s light melodic
touch never fails to please, and the
famous Bach Sonata BWV 1033 shows Beznosiuk’s
natural feel for colourful virtuoso
articulation. The more intense expressive,
emotional, sometimes even dramatic content
of C.P.E. Bach’s Sonata W.128 makes
for an excellent progression through
the first half of the programme, and
the impression that we should have had
our interval coffee by the next piece
is reinforced by a change of accompaniment.
The Gran Duetto Concertante very
much demands more ‘modern’ forces, and
the guitar and 8 keyed flute bring us
straight into a more romantic domain.
The Menuetto in this piece is
genuinely dance-like, and the final
Rondo militaire give us some
fine variations and opportunities for
display from both instrumentalists.
It is entirely appropriate, though unusual
to hear Schubert and Beethoven in this
instrumentation, and Anton Diabelli,
being both a publisher and guitarist,
saw mileage in arranging these great
names to include his own instrument.
Familiar tunes by Schubert for piano
solo are transformed into delightful
miniatures for duo which must be as
much fun to play as to hear. The Beethoven
Potpourri begins surprisingly
with a fragment from the Pastoral
Symphony, and cleverly becomes a
game in which the listener is teased
into guessing which piece might be being
quoted – hits in Beethoven’s time, but
a stretch for most casual listeners
these days. The booklet notes by Nigel
North are helpful in this regard.
This is a sheer joy
of a disc: a large helping of seemingly
unassuming musical jewels, but played
and recorded in such a fragrant, musically
responsive and subtly sensitive way
that, when it finished, you just want
to hit ‘play’ and start all over again.
Dominy Clements