Time to revisit the Italian violinist-composers of the eighteenth century

There is a large cohort of Italian violinist-composers of the eighteenth century, lurking in the shadows cast by Arcangelo Corelli and Antonio Vivaldi. Giuseppe Torelli, Giuseppe Tartini, Pietro Locatelli and Francesco Geminiani list amongst them, all highly prolific composers who rarely get a look-in from programmers today, despite their huge influence at home in Italy, and on British music-making in the eighteenth century. Add to that list Francesco Manfredini, a pupil of Torelli, whose Concerto Grosso in D major, Opus 3, No. 9 was the highlight of the first half of last night’s concert by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment.

Sandwiched between a Suite from The Alchemist and Concerto Grosso in A minor, Opus 6, No. 4, both by Handel, Manfredini’s short but exemplary concerto grosso began with a daringly-exposed slow movement written for the two solo violins alone, cooing in thirds, before exploding into a fast movement.

The virtuosity of violinists such as Manfredini in the eighteenth century must have been quite stupendous if the players of the OAE are anything to go by. Soloists Margaret Faultless and Rodolfo Richter trod the line tantalisingly between control and chaos in intricate dialogical passages. As suspensions cascaded in the fast movements, forming delicious moments of tension and release, the players anticipated every move effortlessly. It was taut ensemble playing at its best.

The second half saw a rare performance of Handel’s cantata Apollo e Daphne. Written in 1710 between Venice and Hanover, it preempts the sophistication of Handel’s operatic writing in the years to come. Handel stretches the fleeting but fatal interaction between Apollo and Daphne into a work lasting 40 minutes.

James Newby played the proud Apollo well, albeit rather one-dimensionally up until the recap of his final aria, when a rare sighting of fragility and sorrow was unfortunately accompanied by intonation issues. His navigation of tricky passage-work was impressive, but he lacked a bit of welly on the low notes, making for a rather bottomless deity.

Katherine Watson was captivating from the off, really drawing the audience of the packed-out QEH in towards her, and brought a whole raft of complexities to her character, Daphne. At times scathing, at times beguiling, Watson had power to unleash up top, and a pleasingly chesty lower register for her more insistent lines.

Jonathan Cohen, as is his wont, leaves much of the communication up to the players, occasionally intervening to spring a surprising segue into action. With his back to audience, one can occasionally see the edge of a curl of a smile on his face as he indulges in a moment with the violas, for example, but Cohen’s presence at the harpsichord and organ was so well integrated into the ensemble it would be easy to forget he is only an occasional guest director with the OAE. He’s the real alchemist here.