Recorded 16-18 December 2006 and 2-5 January 2007 in the ballroom at the Sheffield City Hall, Sheffield, England and 29-30 September 2007 at the Henry Wood Hall, London, England, these performances of Bach by the eponymous Brandenburg Ensemble enjoy a warm, intimate sonic patina that often reminds one of their antique antecedents, that the small ensemble sound derives from motet configurations of medievalism. I am thinking primarily of the interplay in the F Major Concerto, BWV 1046, whose Adagio elicits no end of ‘ancient style’ antiphons. Even the second F Major excursion into the piccolo trumpet’s aerial virtuosities–courtesy David Blackadder–maintain a serene, close ambiance whose naturalness of style–given the original instruments’ nasal, piercing timbre and Pinnock‘s use of baroque pitch of A415–proves affectionate and refreshed.
Kati Debretzeni plays a 1660 Jacob Stainer piccolo violin of sweet tone for the third, fourth, and fifth of the concertos, while Robert Ehlich and Antje Hensel make lovely flourishes on their two recorders in the G Major Concerto. Katy Bircher, flute, and Beatrix Huelsemann, violin, join Trevor Pinnock’s harpsichord dexterity for the D Major Concerto, whose first movement cadenza stopped all domestic activities and distractions in my home. The Third Concerto, with its motoric homogeneity of strings, adds an extended improvisation from violinist Kati Debretzeni in lieu of an absent or one chord Adagio. Violinist Bojan Cicic plays another fine instrument, a 1698 Giovanni Grancino, for Brandenburgs One, Two, and Four. The Presto of the G Major combines improvised figures with an earthy, rhythmic bounce to a finely-honed realization, transparent as it is spontaneous. My perennial favorite, the Sixth in B-flat Major, projects a dark, burnished chest of viols led by Jane Rogers, supported by Pinnock’s gentle continuo. Pinnock keeps one player per part, so the sextet and harpsichord fill the sound-space with a luxurious contemplation, intimations of both transience and immortality. An eerie, tragic lugubriousness pervades the Adagio, a sound that might accompany a gallery of paintings by van Eyck, Rembrandt, or Vermeer. The last movement of No. 6, Allegro, reminds us of how much festivity there exists in these distillations of Baroque music-practice–and that the entire enterprise means to celebrate Mr. Pinnock’s sixtieth birthday. Lovely.
— Gary Lemco
