The stylistic problems facing users of modern instruments in early music may be—and these days commonly are—solved to the satisfaction of all but the most demanding ears; those arising from the characters of the instruments themselves are not always so. In reviewing the set of Brandenburgs by the Consort of London (Collins Classics) NA found it strange, as I do, that whilst the trouble had been taken to use specially made recorders in Concerto No. 4, cellos replaced the gambas to the detriment of No. 6, and a horn replaced the usual trumpet in No. 2. Although the Chamber Orchestra of Europe is a modern-instrument band Concerto No. 2 has its clarino player and No. 6 has its gambas. However, though there is by now little doubt that Concerto No. 4 calls for two recorders, the COE has flutes, and despite the annotator's naming of the recorder as a member of the concertino of No. 2 it is the flute that we hear, of the possible deviations from instrumental authenticity this is arguably the most innocuous, but with so many fine recorder players around it seems unnecessary.
The COE's Concerto No. 1 is spirited enough and there is some very clean horn playing in the second Trio of the dances, but the excellently played violino piccolo could with benefit have been a little closer to a microphone. Concerto No. 2 is perhaps the best of the set, thanks to Mark Bennett's consummate skill with the clarino; he not only plays the notes, he gives them musical shape. Bright, crisp string-playing marks the Third Concerto, but a simple statement (here with a pinch of unenterprising decoration) of the two chords that separate the two Allegros now sounds rather bald. The impetus of the Allegro of Concerto No. 4 is passingly disturbed by Marieke Blankestijn's unconvincing violonistic rubatos at bar 83 (1'18''ff.) which are absent from later comparable passages, but thereafter all goes well. Ian Watson gives a fluent account of his role in No. 5 but the greater bloom on the sound of his (more backward-placed) harpsichord makes it less incisive than Virginia Black's (on Collins). In the final Allegro of the same concerto, the flautist clips his top Bs in the (cantabile) passage from bar 79 (1'23''), but the violinist does not reply in like fashion. The glowing performance of Concerto No. 6 shows just why gambas, and not cellos, should be used.
The soloists appear to understand much better than the ripieno strings, that a trill is an extended appoggiatura, but otherwise they get things just about right. Tempos are well chosen and even when they are on the slow side it is only the metronome that tells you so, the faster movements have life and there is some touchingly expressive playing in the slow ones. The recording is clear and for the most part well balanced. Both recordings (the Consort of London and the COE) have their excellences, and if I am inclined to tip the balance in favour of the Chamber Orchestra of Europe it is because of their choice of instrumentation—though curiosity may tempt others to sample the products of the Consort of London's experimentation.'