For a great many years I Musici had almost no rival at all to compete with its recording of Corelli's 12 Concerti grossi, Op. 6; but within the past few years all that has changed and, by my reckoning, this is the twelfth complete version to enter The Classical Catalogue. Last but by no means least, the Guildhall String Ensemble, playing modern instruments at today's pitch, have entered the arena with a stylish, warm-toned account of these pioneering works.
Though not published until 1714, the year following Corelli's death, many of these concertos, if not all, were in existence considerably earlier on. Among those who recalled having heard them as early as 1682 was Georg Muffat, on whom they exerted a profound influence. And, as TK remarks in her excellent note, as late as 1725 the English writer on musical matters, Roger North, wrote that these concertos were ''the bread of life'' to all musicians. Muffat recorded that he had heard them in Rome played by a great number of instrumental players and this implied scale of performance was reflected recently in a two-disc set by Ensemble 415 under the direction of Chiara Banchini and Jesper Christansen (Harmonia Mundi). Recordings by The English Concert with Trevor Pinnock (Archiv), and La Petite Bande with Sigiswald Kuijken (Deutsche Harmonia Mundi) on the other hand field ensembles about half the size consisting of seven or eight violins, two violas, two cellos and a bass. The Guildhall group is even smaller with five violins, two violas, two cellos and bass, from which the two violin and cello concertino emerges in the customary way. I felt throughout these performances the need for stronger projection in the violin strands; five players is just a little too economical for me and the ripieno suffers accordingly.
Apart from this question of balance I found the playing lively and stylish. It is in the da chiesa concertos (Nos. 1-8) that additional ripieno strength is most required, especially in the richly sustained slow movements. In the remaining four da camera concertos the movements are mainly dances or at least dance-oriented and here the players succeed admirably with lightly articulated phrases and appropriately kinetic continuo support. In these works (Nos. 9-12), but also throughout the set, the interpretations are full of character with a finely judged expressive restraint that, nevertheless, allows for effective little rhythmic conceits and embellishments. This is, in a word, civilized music-making, entirely free from overstatement and exaggerated gesture.
If the interpretations do not always realize the inherent nobility of Corelli's style, then it is for reasons of dimension already discussed rather than any misconstruction of the music's character. It is playing that I enjoy without reservation and the set deserves to stand alongside the front-runners in the field. Warmly commended.'