‘Arie Amorose’ was the title of a lovely album recorded by Janet Baker with the Academy of St Martin in the Fields and Neville Marriner back in 1978 (it was reissued in 1992 by Philips, 1/93). It consisted almost entirely of what recitalists tend to call arie antiche – popular numbers culled from once all-but-forgotten operas by, among others, Pergolesi, Martini, Caldara, Caccini, Paisiello and Durante (to name only Monica Groop’s selection here) but in soupy modern orchestral arrangements. Nowadays, of course, complete operas by these composers are not unheard of, even on disc, but anyone expecting stylish interpretations from Groop should think twice before buying this disc. The arie antiche are done in new orchestral clothing by Till Koster and make an anti- climactic group at the end of the programme of baroque and classical opera arias by Handel, Purcell and Gluck – Janet Baker territory again.
The Finnish mezzo is a feisty performer, however, and opens with a swaggering account of Ruggiero’s bravura ‘Sta nell’Ircana’ from Handel’s Alcina. This is hardly an aria amorosa, but then neither are ‘Dopo notte’ from Handel’s Ariodante (an opera which, contrary to the liner note, is not based on ancient mythology, but on renaissance literature, Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso ), Giulio Cesare’s ‘Va tacito e nascosto’, nor, especially, Dejanira’s great mad scene, ‘Where Shall I Fly?’ in Hercules. Dido’s lament, Orfeo’s ‘Che puro ciel!’, Ruggiero’s ‘Verdi prati’ and even Xerxes’s famous ‘Ombra mai fu’ – an ironic ‘love song’ to a plane tree – are arguable too. In Dido’s lament and the Handel arias, Baker is clearly Groop’s model – she handles the dazzling syncopations of Ariodante’s ‘Dopo notte’ as effortlessly as the older singer – but her taste is not as impeccable: in Giulio Cesare’s huntsman aria, she indulges in an extended cadenza in competition with the horn soloist in a style which belongs to a later age than Handel’s.
Groop’s is an attractive but not especially individual voice: in the lower-lying numbers – ‘Che puro ciel’ and ‘Che faro senza Euridice’ from Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice – the plumminess of her tone brings an unwelcome whiff of the oratorio contralto, but she lightens and brightens it for a winning account of ‘O del mio dolce ardor’ from the same composer’s Paride ed Elena (please can we have a complete recording of this beautiful opera some time?). Fans of this singer may be keener than I am on her old-fashioned approach to arie antiche and the aggressive playing of the Ostrobothnian Chamber Orchestra under Juha Kangas in the faster numbers is not to my taste. This is certainly an enjoyable disc, however, if not a particularly memorable one