Telemann: Tafelmusik - Musica Antiqua Köln, Reinhard Goebel

Georg Philipp Telemann
Tafelmusik
Musica Antiqua Köln, Reinhard Goebel
Archiv 427 619-2

In the August 1988 issue I found myself wondering what had prompted a flurry of activity amongst performers in turning their attention to
Telemann's impressive three-part anthology, Musique de table. This was following two radio recordings of excerpts, and two commercially recorded CDs (reviewed that month) from Tom Koopman (Erato/RCA) and Paul Dombrecht (Accent/Harmonia Mundi). Koopman dipped into Productions II and III of Telemann's opus, in a haphazard fashion, while Dombrecht performed Production III in its entirety and rather well at that. Now, 25 years after Archiv and Telefunken (as they were known then) apparently unaware of each other's plans, made their first complete recordings of the Musique de table almost simultaneously, they have managed to perform the same trick again!
Readers will not welcome my inability to recommend one version over another but, as you will see, it becomes quite impossible to do so. Both Nikolaus Harnoncourt and Reinhard Goebel are ardent champions of Telemann's music and I loudly applaud them for that. They have, furthermore, provided us with many recordings of distinction, bringing to life in their often contrasting approaches the subtleties of Telemann's fascinating eclecticism.

Goebel and his Cologne Musica Antigua generally have the edge over Harnoncourt and the Vienna Concentus Musicus where purely technical considerations are concerned. The precision of ensemble, the crisp articulation and the clarity of texture which Goebel achieves, not perhaps without considerable effort, are admirable features of the Archiv Produktion set and, for sheer efficiency and dependability in such matters, these artists have few rivals. The Viennese musicians, on the other hand, often sound more spontaneous in their music-making and, at their best, which is frequently in evidence, their performances are charged with excitement or imbued with delicatesse, as the case requires. But here a sad note, for Harnoncourt's first oboist, Jars Schaeftlein died before the project could be completed. David Reichenberg replaced him in Production III but he, too, died before the final sessions and was in turn replaced by Hans-Peter Westermann. Harnoncourt has dedicated the entire issue to the memory of these two fine oboists, both of whom were very ill when the sessions took place.

Telemann published his Musique de table in Hamburg in 1733. Each of its three parts or "Productions", as he called them, is laid out identically, embracing the principal orchestral and instrumental forms of the late-baroque: French overture and dance suite, quartet, concerto, trio, solo sonata and a little orchestral coda, so to speak, which Telemann simply and practically called "Conclusion". Much of his finest music is contained in this fulsome anthology and it may be found above all, perhaps, in the quartets and concertos. Harnoncourt and Goebel use similar forces for the orchestral works, although Harnoncourt always prefers eight violins to Goebel's six. The continuo section in both consists of a violone and harpsichord, though Harnoncourt occasionally substitutes an organ for the latter. Goebel scrupulously observes all repeats; Harnoncourt does so in all but one or two instances.

In the First Production Harnoncourt has the edge over Goebel. He is livelier in the OvertureSuite (E minor) and is supple where Goebel is a little unyielding and rather too self-conscious in manner. The Viennese group give a masterly and hauntingly beautiful account of the G major Quartet, one of Telemann's most beguiling pieces in quartet form. The gently sighing gestures of the opening movement are irresistible and the performance is a high spot in the issue. Goebel seems to me entirely to misjudge the character of the piece, making little allowance for eloquent, wistful expression, and knocks a full minute off Harnoncourt's first movement. A considerable disappointment, this. Much the same applies to the Trio, where Harnoncourt shows far greater sensibility towards the music than the Cologne group. Both teams give a convincing account of the Concerto in A major for flute, violin and concertante cello, though neither is airy enough for me in the galant opening Largo; Goebel over-emphasizes strong beats and Harnoncourt is too weighty. The Sonata and Conclusion are effective in both versions.

If Harnoncourt has the upper hand in the First Production then Goebel certainly has it in the Second. Both groups use Friedemann Immer as the solo trumpeter but there is no doubt that he turns in a more secure performance for Goebel than he does for Harnoncourt. The sparkling Overture-Suite (D major) comes over well in both versions. Harnoncourt achieves a thrilling sense of occasion and offers stronger contrasts between concertino and ritornello sections; but his ensemble is too often weak and the difficult circumstances prevailing at the time are all too evident in the third Air. The D minor Quartet sounds dull in the Vienna performance—the Vivace is lacklustre and the lyrical Largo too slow. Here and in the Trio, whose Dolce is marred by poor intonation at the close, Goebel is livelier in spirit and more incisive in detail. The Concerto in F for three violins is given a lively performance by both teams, though Goebel's soloists are more disciplined. The Viennese, however, convey greater warmth and more graceful poise in the slow movement. Goebel and Alice Harnoncourt are the respective soloists in the fine A major Violin Sonata. Technically, Goebel is the more impressive and he plays with fire and fantasy throughout; Alice Harnoncourt's articulation is less effective at times, though her third movement Cantabile, which she plays with appropriate delicatesse, is a delight. Rudolf Leopold's cello continuo for Harnoncourt, however, is no match for Goebel's Phoebe Carrai, whose contribution throughout the project is first rate. Indeed, it is a matter for regret that Harnoncourt himself plays the cello in only two works in all. Both sets turn in a vigorous Conclusion.

In the Third Production the prizes are more evenly distributed and perhaps more plentiful, too, since this music seems to bring out the best in both groups. Neither lacks character; Goebel, punctilious in detail, incisive in rhythm, impeccable in ensemble and fiery in spirit, holds my attention throughout; but Harnoncourt, often more expansive, capable of grander more aristocratic gestures, graceful in dance measures and less preoccupied with technical precision more frequently reaches my heart. His Bergerie, Flaterie and Badinage in the Overture-Suite (B flat) are steeped in rustic charm, while the Quartet and Trio are lovingly and expressively played by members of the Concentus Musicus.

Goebel's ensemble are also splendid in these pieces, of that there is no question, and in the end which you prefer will be foremost a matter of taste. This is, perhaps, especially so in the Concerto in E flat for two horns or "Trombe selvatiche" as Telemann called them. Goebel's rhythms are springy, his horns resonant and his sonorities ravishing to the senses. Harnoncourt is hardly less impressive but his horns sound more primitive, though pleasingly so at least in their stopped notes, than those in the other recordings. The first horn player, Andrew Joy, is common to both versions but the second, apparently a family affair, is shared between Charles (Archiv) and Cathrine (Teldec/ASV) Putnam. Archiv, alas, provide no details of instrument type or provenance, but Teldec do, and list the horns as copies of a tromba selvatica. The solo Sonata in G minor for oboe is beautifully played by Michael Niesemann (Goebel) and Jiirg Schaeftlein (Harnoncourt). My favourite here is Schaeftlein who, together with Harnoncourt (cello) and Herbert Tachezi (organ/ harpsichord) gives a wonderfully graceful, spirited and expressive performance; above all the Tempo giusto and Andante bring out the warm rapport which these artists have long shared with Telemann's music. Niesemann is a very accomplished oboe player but he understates the poetic content of the Tempo giusto; curiously, he does not observe the Presto da capo but enters straight into the Andante from the Tempo giusto which sounds as uncomfortable as it is unlikely.

To sum up, here are two outstandingly interesting releases. Both are well presented with informa tive essays, the Archiv one by Eckart Klessmann—himself the author of a useful little book on Telemann published in 1981 but not translated into English—the Teldec by SiIke Leopold, rather more informative and to the point but less idiomatically translated. Recorded sound is excellent in both cases, Teldec favouring a slightly more spacious acoustic than Archly, who clearly prefer to focus on detail. I'm afraid it may well be a case of all or nothing for committed Telemann enthusiasts, so they had better start hoping that Christmas finds their aunties and uncles in a mood for distributing largesse.

N.A., Gramophone Magazine