This is the third of Hakan Hardenberger's recordings of baroque concertos for Philips. Firstly came an all-Telemann disc (8/88) and soon after, a number of rococo concertos written during the Indian summer of the natural trumpet and thereby employing stratospherically high registers (3/91). Both recordings were enterprising in their own way and played with customary panache and remarkable technical facility by Hardenberger. The latest collection of concertos is, on the surface, not so arresting. Hardenberger, I suppose, feels he has to record the Vivaldi Double Concerto at least once in his life, but most disappointing is to see the same stock arrangements of works upon which too many of the post-Maurice Andre acolytes have made their reputations as baroque trumpet soloists. Granted, no trumpet player can make a career as a baroque player on a modern instrument without performing music originally written for other instruments; the domestic repertoire is simply not sustainable (it could be argued that the Torelli and Corelli works only sound truly colourful on a natural trumpet and tonally bland even with Hardenberger's modern playing). No complaints with transcriptions per se: a good one can leave the original looking to its laurels. Some disappointments must be registered, however, that he has not investigated his own fare from the multifarious collections of fine eighteenth-century concertos.
Putting all that in perspective, most listeners will enjoy this highly exacting playing and most of all Hardenberger's silky articulation and rhythmic discipline—the Vivaldi is as high-tech and effortless as you will ever hear, if less thrilling than Andre's version where he plays both parts (dubbed). I Musici are a curious choice of accompanists. Still sporting their timelessly vigorous and yet unashamedly Mediterranean approach to baroque chamber playing, there is quite a temperamental polarity here, one would suspect, between their style and Hardenberger's Nordic and less overtly emotional playing. The result, however, is not as marked as you might expect, since Hardenberger vocalizes more in this recording than I have heard him in the past (all slow movements are warmer and less 'worked out' than in previous discs of this nature) and he responds to I Musici's full-blooded playing in a similarly jaunty way. The Marcello D minor Concerto contains some especially sweet moments, though I still yearn for a touch more of the natural free expression, knife-edge intensity and golden gleam of Andre's playing. Having said that, many of Hardenberger's own distinct qualities and remarkable gifts (including superb intonation) are brought to bear here. There is, then, much to recommend this release. Next time a disc of innovative and self-motivated transcriptions—and of course good original music too—might provide the filip for a great baroque trumpet recording. '