Handel's six Concerto grossi, Op. 3 are among the most colourfully varied ever to have been collected under a single opus number. Indeed, they're surpassed in this respect only, perhaps, by Bach's six Brandenburg Concertos. Unlike Bach's set, however, Handel's Op. 3 seems to have been assembled, initially at least, without the composer himself being closely involved or even consulted. This fact is important since it has some bearing on what performers may actually play. It is the Sixth Concerto of the opus which until recently posed the greatest problem since the two movements included in the printed set of 1734 have little to do with one another and were simply cobbled together by Handel's publisher, Walsh. More up-to-date research has provided us with a three-movement concerto—surely Handel's intention—in which the original, printed finale with its organ solo, plays no part. Sadly, Marc Minkowski, the director of this new set, opts for the traditional approach which seems something of a wasted opportunity, though I should add that the organ solo is played outstandingly well by Aline Zylberajch.
Minkowski is no stranger to Handel and his recordings of the composer's operas Amadigi (9/91) and Teseo (3/93) have been warmly acclaimed. So it is not surprising to find plenty to enjoy in his interpretations of the Op. 3 concertos. The playing is spirited, and the obbligato contributions often dazzling; and there are some novel ideas, too, which I found effective. In the third concerto of the set, for instance, Minkowski uses a descant recorder in the outer movements, where flute or treble recorder are generally favoured. But I take issue with him, and not for the first time, over the excessively brisk tempo that he adopts for dances and some of the outer movements. In the finale of the Fifth Concerto some of the players can only just keep up with him, and that is an uncomfortable sensation for the listener, too. It is the Minuet of the Fourth Concerto, however, and that of the Second that provoke the greatest irritation, for these airy and delightful pieces are denuded of any graceful, dance-like gestures, whatsoever, being virtually throttled by Minkowski's relentless, breathless direction and seeming impatience to reach the conclusion. For me this mars and indeed, rules out an otherwise appealing issue.
Recorded sound is excellent but, if you seek Handelian elegance you will be better served by The English Concert on Archiv or Tafelmusik on Sony (the Academy of Ancient Music, on L'Oiseau-Lyre, 5/85, is unfortunately not currently available). The two last mentioned, by the way, also offer the Sixth Concerto in what is probably a version close, if not identical, to that which Handel originally intended.'