The late morning light spilled through the top windows of the Amsterdam Concertgebouw as Skip Sempé and the Helsinki Baroque Orchestra took to the stage last Sunday. It was an ideal setting for this historically-informed Baroque ensemble, using one of the world’s most famous venues for large modern orchestras and stripping it to an intimate atmosphere. The orchestra itself comprised between fifteen and eighteen musicians, varying throughout its program – which ranged from Muffat to Telemann and finally dazzled us with J.S. Bach’s Cantata no. 202 with the vocal graces of the soprano Johannette Zomer. The most impressive aspect of this program was the group’s dedication to ensemble performance, during tutti sections but also soloistic moments featuring the stylings of Julien Martin on recorder. The combination of the use of period-style instruments, an intimate instrumentation and the raw talent of its musicians showcased not only the soloists but primarily the orchestra itself as the star of the day.
Under the leadership of Skip Sempé, we saw some of Helsinki’s best Baroque musicians in combination with a few familiar faces to the early music scene here in Holland, including members of Sempé’s own Capriccio Stravagante. It was apparent from the beginning with two selections from Georg Muffat’s Armonico tributo just how intricately connected these musicians were to one another and also to this specific repertoire. As the opening, almost overture-like Allemande wound down to a close, the strong bass section swept the group along to the following Passacaglia. Never a dull moment was felt as the violins struck syncopations with such fire and elegance en masse, creating delicate shifts of character as the opening motif returned again and again.
The orchestra’s range expanded even more evidently to us with Julien Martin’s rendition of a Telemann Suite for recorder, strings and basso continuo. Clearly experimenting with the French suite structure, Telemann used several movements whose titles tell the whole story: “Les plaisirs”, “Air à l’italien”, “Réjouissance”, etc. This particular suite offers delicious suppleness while at the same time heating the soul with pseudo-violent gestures demanded of the bow. We are swept along a path with captive attention, awaiting and enjoying the outcome of such surprises of subtlety. For example, the juxtaposition of the very French-influenced “Les plaisirs” offers the most vulnerable softness in the beginning with a deliberate avoidance of a clear downbeat. The ear wanders around the circulating melody, only finding solace in the sonority of the blending strings rather than a rhythmic certainty. Take then the “Air à l’italien”, which brings us strictly into a binary rhythm and thriving on the assurance of time and space. Telemann was truly playing with his musicians and audience by offering such contrasts in music, which enlighten the contrasts in cultures.