Remarkably, Hespèrion XXI is in its fiftieth year, with founder Jordi Savall now into his eighties, but on the basis of this Wigmore Hall outing, you wouldn’t have known. In an expertly curated programme, Savall and friends took us through two centuries of wide-ranging European consort music. To mix things up, there were dances – sedate pavans and sprightly triple time galliards, free fantasias and rattling musical battles. The other vital ingredient was judicious use of lively percussion; as glorious as the sound of six viols played so expertly was, the injection of percussive energy, as well as occasional bright guitar strumming helped to cut through the warm bath of the luxurious string sound.
With 26 works plus two encores, one can't cover everything here, but it was also the overall journey from one contrasting piece to the next that was so effective. Drums were used to great effect to announce and accompany the battle pieces, such as the rat-a-tat rhythms of Gioseffo Guami’s Canzon a4 sopra “La Battaglia”, with virtuosic ornamented lines from Savall at the top of the texture. The anonymous Pavane de la petite Guerre et Galliarde that ended the first half combined that battle energy, complete with treble viol fanfares, strumming guitar and rattling repeated note motifs, with the formal pavan and snappy galliard rhythms. In the second half, Alfonso Ferrabosco’s mournful Four-note pavan was followed by William Brade’s Galliard a6, with its lively bounce and cascading lines, parts tumbling into one another. As we moved into the 17th century, harmonies got more intense, with rich, upward-sliding suspensions in John Jenkins’ The Bell Pavan, and chromatic lines in William Lawes’ achingly sad Pavan. And Henry Purcell’s glorious Fantasia upon one note was full of swells and surges, with the treble viol lines in particular weaving in and out over the constant drone. Savall and friends delivered every gem with assured and effortless precision, letting slip an occasional sense of their enjoyment in their craft at the more boisterous moments.
Coming towards the end of this wonderful survey of consort music, the Contrapunctus 9 from Bach’s Art of the Fugue made perfect sense. The treble viols set off the fugue, first Christophe Coin, then Savall, and the building of the complex and virtuosic fugal entries, with the main slower subject chiming through the texture, was the perfect extension to the evening’s programme. But as ever, this serious, almost academic example was immediately contrasted with a lively finale, the Oberture e Corrente Italian by Cabanilles. So the drums announced the majestic opening, then there was a deft switch from theorbo to guitar for the livelier rhythms of the Corrente, with tambourine and cascading viol lines dancing to the very end.
Now they were really on a roll. For the first of their encores, we left Europe for Lima, for Tonada del Chimo and Caccua Serranita, from the Codex Martínez Compañón of the 1780s. Rocking theorbo rhythms and joyous dance energy from the players was topped with virtuosic riffing from Savall. And finally, they went back a century or so for an anonymous Scottish tune, Savall snapping the rhythms, before dying away to nothing to finish.
There is so little overt showiness to Savall and friends’ performances, you might be forgiven for thinking they were going through the motions. But the velvet viol sounds, the spirited percussion, the subtle theorbo or strumming guitar, with occasional virtuosic bursts of ornamented energy proved that this music is their joy, and it was a privilege to witness it. Happy 50th birthday, Hespèrion XXI!
