I wonder if all these concertos would receive quite so much attention if they were not conveniently gathered under the umbrella of a single opus number. All but one of the six works are Vivaldi's own adaptations of earlier chamber concertos for a mixed ensemble of flute, recorder, oboe, violin, bassoon and continuo in varying combinations. These earlier versions strike me as being of greater interest than the later ones for transverse flute and string orchestra which Vivaldi transcribed and, to an extent, reworked, for the Op. 10 publication in about 1728. On an RCA release Frans Bruggen showed just how effective Vivaldi's first thoughts were.
Three of the concertos have programmatic titles whose justification is born out by the pictorial content of the music. The soloist on this new recording, Aurele Nicolet, makes the most of it with all sorts of effects, some of which seem rather inappropriate in the present context and would probably have startled Vivaldi. There is no justification for Flatterzunge or flutter-tonguing in the first movement of Concerto No. 3 in D major (Il gardellino). Even if a goldfinch did utter that kind of song, which it certainly does not, the device is stylistically and technically at odds with the eighteenth century. Other flourishes, too, seem gratuistously absurd and it soon becomes evident, furthermore, that Nicolet simply cannot leave Vivaldi's melodic line alone. Much of the music's charm lies in its simplicity and it does not benefit from anachronistic virtuosity.
Having said as much, I must concede excellence of ensemble and vitality in execution. Fast movements, never too fast, are pleasantly light-hearted in spirit with effective balance between the flute and strings. Slow movements, on the other hand, struck me as being too weighty in emphasis and too lethargic in tempo. In the end, though, what spoils these performances for me is the stylistically inappropriate ornamentation of the music by Nicolet himself. He simply cannot resist turning matter to his own, undeniably fluent technical advantage. Interestingly, when Vivaldi really does call for virtuousity and writes it out in a sequence of brilliant variations, in the finale of the Concerto No. 6 in D major, Nicolet is only just master of the situation.
I'm afraid this issue is too much a vehicle for solo gymnastics. It is hardly surprising that Vivaldi gets a bad press for his music, on occasion, when he is judged by performances such as these which are at times, almost dismissive of lyrical content. Good recorded sound.'