But for an informative and amusing article by John Purser, Scottish composer John Clerk is likely to mean little to most of us. Clerk was born in 1676 and lived until he was nearly 80. It is tempting to imagine him as an isolated sage working in an artistic vacuum far from the growing gouts reunis of most European centres, but in truth he was a cultivated man, not dissimilar to Telemann in his far-ranging interests and professional contacts. He was a signatory to the 1707 Act of Union between England and Scotland, though a reluctant one if we take the affecting and original cantata, Leo Scotiae irritatus, as clear evidence of national pride and colonizing ambitions. More relevant to his musical style is the fact that, contrary to paternal advice, Clerk set off to Rome and studied with Corelli and Pasquini. Most of his works date from the years following his return to Scotland at the end of the seventeenth century. Later in life, he knuckled down to the law and became a judge.
These five cantatas and a single sonata for solo violin reveal that Clerk, like the young Thomas Linley a couple of generations later, cuts at best an imposing musical figure, nonchalantly negotiating all the stylistic and formal ingredients that constitute a successful extended text setting. If Dic mihi saeve puer, the opening number, were to represent the limits of his expressive capabilities, then he would be viewed as little more than a curiosity; as it is, this is the least convincing performance also, with a relatively narrow focus to the string sound and a veiled quality to Catherine Bott’s voice. In Eheu! quam diris hominis, we hear a poignant Scarlattian turn of phrase that informs Clerk’s capacity for intimate dialogue between a throbbing string figure (to reflect life draining away, against the backdrop of his suffering smallpox) and a melodic pathos, sung by Bott with the intensity of line it deserves. Her imploring delivery of words and variety of colour contribute significantly to these efficacious and genial vignettes, and to the more substantial Odo di mesto intorno. Concerto Caledonia sound a little closed – and intonation is not always spot-on – but they, too, contribute to an interesting disc, well worth investigating.'