Vladimir Spivakov and the Moscow Virtuosi have put together an attractive programme of Vivaldi's music, consisting of three concertos and the Stabat mater for contralto and strings. The concertos are effectively contrasted in colour and texture: one, in A major, is a ripieno work, orchestrally treated and without any solo participation; another, in D minor, is a well-known piece for two violins and concertante cello from Vivaldi's first printed set of concertos, L'estro armonico, while the third, in the same key, is for two oboes and strings.
The level of executancy is high, though from an interpretative standpoint the results are unpredictable. The Concerto in A major, one of Vivaldi's most stylistically advanced, comes over well with graceful phrasing, infectious vivacity and sure intonation. Tempos are carefully chosen and Spivakov provides clear and sensitive direction. The fine concerto from L'estro armonico (Op. 3 No. 11), on the other hand, starts balefully with deliberate, prosaic articulation almost wholly lacking in animation. With the following fugue the playing springs to life but the beautiful Largo is stripped of lyricism by a ponderous tempo and over-emphasis of strong beats. The finale is lively but somewhat bland in character. The Double Oboe Concerto fares better with polished, incisive playing from the soloists; but I feel that the brief introductory Largo was rather fussily ornamented. The second Largo, on the other hand, is effectively sustained and tenderly played.
I thought I was going to enjoy the Stabat mater at the outset. Spivakov sets an effective tempo and the playing is intimate with delicate shading; but Nathalie Stutzmann's plummy voice with its wide vibrato, together with her inclination to indulge in portamentos do not serve the music well. Some sections of the piece are more convincing than others—the ''O quam tristis'', for example, makes a strong, direct appeal through the absence of intrusive mannerisms; but the ''Quis est homo'' and, to a greater extent, the ''Quis non posset'' are spoilt by a variety of little indulgences.
To sum up: this is a mixed pleasure. Spivakov evidently responds sympathetically and often imaginatively to Vivaldi's music, yet too often it seems to me misjudged. There are some beautiful things here but they are diluted by others which strike my ears as inapposite. Fine recorded sound.'