The Scotsman: Review EIF - Benedetti Baroque Orchestra
By Ken Walton
Saturday marked the Scottish debut of her recently-formed Benedetti Baroque Orchestra(****) By midweek she’d cut a lone figure on stage in a musical monologue dedicated to the art of the violin virtuoso. Still to come at the time of writing was her final appearance this weekend with hand-picked contemporary ensemble player-directing Stravinsky’s Faustian music theatre piece, The Soldier’s Tale.
Interest in the Benedetti Baroque Orchestra had already been ignited by its digital presence in last year’s online BBC Proms, and more recently through the release of its Decca debut album, featuring much of the same repertoire as Saturday’s concert. In this live context, it was a joy to have confirmed the supreme symbiosis that moulds this ensemble around the centrifugal force of Benedetti.
From Geminiani’s gutsy Concerto Grosso in D minor, La Folia, fuelled by apt and quirky idiosyncrasies, and the perfectly contrasting trio of Vivaldi concertos (including Summer from the popular Four Seasons), to the heart-melting lyricism of the Largo-Andante from Tartini’s A major Violin Concerto, the interpretational choices were a constantly exciting fusion of stylistic purity and spontaneous self-expression.
There was no lack of innate musicality in Benedetti’s playing, visually expressed in supple physicality and unquestionable sincerity. Now and again, her ensemble failed to respond with the same distinctive edge. And in the earlier of the evening’s two performances, instances where her own technical grip loosened, affecting both intonation and tone-production, were briefly unsettling.
The same ambivalence informed the initial Baroque half of Tuesday’s solo presentation – The Story of the Violin (****) – at Old College Quad. If the title was somewhat overambitious for an hour-long event, Benedetti made it work through minimal informal chat and a selective series of virtuoso pieces by four composers whose influence on violin repertoire was game-changing.
She began with Heinrich Biber and JS Bach, the latter’s gargantuan Chaconne casting Biber’s less sophisticated Passacaglia from the Mystery Sonatas into the relative shadows. The sheer technical prowess displayed in Benedetti’s performances was unquestionable, together with her skill in eliciting ephemeral, scintillating textures. What didn’t come over so convincingly was the unstoppable momentum of the Bach, occasionally roughly-hewn and aggressive towards a monster with a compulsive mind of its own.
The contrast introduced by the ensuing Paganini Caprices and Ysaÿe’s Sonata No 3 was instantaneous. Here was Benedetti in her absolute element, effortlessly defying the superhuman wizardry of Paganini’s notorious demands, and drawing out a beguiling soulfulness from the more austere 1920s’ language of Ysaÿe.