The Freiburg Baroque Orchestra's reputation is growing apace, much as that of Tafelmusik did a year or two back, though the latter have moved into classical territory rather quicker than one imagines the German group will; one hopes that is the case since it would be a great shame if this dynamic and thoughtful ensemble were to abort on repertoire which badly needs period playing of this calibre. It was perhaps a little disconcerting for the xenophobes amongst us to recognize how naturally the Freiburgers took to Purcell's elusive instrumental style in their second recording for Deutsche Harmonia Mundi (3/92). Most recently their consort offshoot has produced a classic in an exquisite release of Biber and Muffat's concentrated sonatas (see page 100). Anyway, here we have more Purcell in a compilation of incidental music from the composer's initial 'operatic' triumph, Dioclesian: instrumental music interspersed creatively with examples from the famous Masque of Cupid which concludes Act 5 and miscellaneous vocal extras (such as If music be the food of love).
Such is the inherent flexibility of this quasi-dramatic music that so long as one follows the spirit, Purcell's more inspired creations can perhaps be afforded an improved context—outside a fully fledged production—with a sensitive concert-plan. Here, 18 movements are given just that. The Overture sets the scene, its Lullian rhythmicality juxtaposed with a brooding forbearance, both of which the orchestra enliven with supreme self-assurance. Those who know the Masque as a complete entity may be shocked to hear so early the jaunty G minor dance which usually precedes the penultimate chorus. Never mind. This is a suite with its own modus operandi and the Germans give to each movement an attentiveness to texture and articulation which almost always casts a convincing spell on the music. The ''Dance of the Furies'' is magically executed with its placid opening (inspired, surely, by Locke's Tempest) and then unleashed with that risky abandon which gives the Freiburgers' approach such vigour. Well-judged characterization extends to the songs where Nancy Argenta (following her recent and impressive Purcell solo disc, Virgin Classics, 6/94), is joined by Michael Chance; Lost is my quiet is equally impassioned.
Handel constitutes the remainder of this disc with a dramatically conceived account of the G minor Concerto grosso, Op. 6 No. 8. The opening Largo is delivered with an astute feeling for the gravitas of the rhetoric and maintained until the sharply contrasted Musette radiates its warm glow. Again, the orchestra manages to bring a sense of rightness to this music without either dogmatic or self-important gesture. The cantata, Il duello amoroso dates from Handel's years in Rome, 1708 to be exact, and shows how remarkably briskly Handel learnt how to size up a libretto and respond to it with instinctive candour. That said, it still fails to stand up musically to what has gone before despite some fine singing from Argenta and Chance. As the only available version at present, it should perhaps be welcomed more vociferously; it would have been had the Freiburgers not already given us such plentiful bounty.'