Tartini’s Op. 1, containing 12 violin concertos, was published in Amsterdam, probably in 1728, though other slightly later dates have been variously suggested. At least one of the works had been written some time earlier, however; the Sixth Concerto of the set (D89), for instance, is known in a Dresden manuscript dated 1724. These are all comparatively early works by Tartini, which is suggested not only by the opus number but, more significantly, by the straightforward ritornello statements and their relationship with solo passages.
L’Arte dell’Arco is a period-instrument group which takes its name from the 38 Variations in F major by Tartini on a Gavotte from Corelli’s Violin Sonata (Op. 5 No. 10). The solos are shared between Giovanni Guglielmo, his brother Federico, and Carlo Lazari. Four further members of the group complete this ensemble of single strings with harpsichord/chamber organ. The pitch has been set at today’s standard A=440, some evidence having been found to support the hypothesis that an equivalent or even higher tuning may have been in use around Venice in Tartini’s time. The ensemble’s claim to have presented the first complete recording of these concertos is for once entirely justified.
All but one of the pieces conform with the fast-slow-fast scheme established by Vivaldi; and the layout of the flanking movements is, by and large, Vivaldian too. The music itself is varied though perhaps not always rewardingly so. The opening movement of the First Concerto, for example, lacks a strong focal point and suffers from inelegant shifts of key. The beauty of this work, as so often with Tartini, lies in the expressive siciliano slow movement, in which the soloist is accompanied by a single violin without continuo. In many of the outer movements Tartini made provision for modestly proportioned caprices or cadenzas for solo violin. Generally he left the soloist to improvise but, sometimes, as in the Fourth Concerto, he wrote them in himself. It was not until later, however, that Tartini introduced coded poetic mottoes to the movements of his concertos in order to point the performer in an appropriate expressive direction.
The playing of L’Arte dell’Arco is sometimes decidedly rough and ready, a tendency that is emphasized by a rather hollow recorded sound and by the careless clipping of reverberation at the end of movements. The string sound, both solo and tutti, can also be sour as for example in the finale of the Third Concerto, and the players do not always get the better of Tartini’s more demanding passagework. But in spite of this, I listened to the music several times over, finding more and more to enjoy in Tartini’s fertile invention, his irresistible blend of technical athleticism and expressive exuberance, and his extended passages of elegiac lyricism. Once heard, a distinctive Tartini idiom is hardly less apparent than that of his illustrious, slightly older Venetian contemporary. A fascinating release notwithstanding technical shortcomings.'