San Francisco Classical Voice

The Brandenburg concerti were less convincing. Number Five, with which the concert opened, was relaxed to a fault, yet awkward. There was a lack of the contrast that displays structure. The solo flute, Robin McKee, is an admirable player but too often was buried in careless texture. Small forces in the accompaniment overplayed, beginning to end. Harpsichordist Robin Sutherland is also a superb musician, and a friend to every other musician in the Bay Area. It must be acknowledged that he had a very off day that day, and ensemble paid a price for it.

The Third Brandenburg had more authority, more flexibility, and the smallest complement of players. All except celli stood, and in a horseshoe. This direct communication paid off in the audible delight of fugue. The first movement was brisk and direct, unmannered and clear. The harpsichord solo in the “second” movement now worked very well. However, the final movement opened much too fast and its first two bars were almost incoherent. Group gravitas then took charge and slowed to a more musical tempo. Bassist Scott Pingel used a C-extension to good, if inauthentic, effect.

Mozart's Serenata Notturna was the most charming work on the program. Its Haydnesque humor was not lost on its players, nor its audience. The famous timpani (wittily given by Jack van Geem) and pizzicati dialogue in the opening March set the standard for the many jokes to follow. There was a lovely correspondence between violinists Alexander Barantschik and Dan Smiley in the Menuetto, but the best lay in the Rondo. Barantschik gave a wonderful laughing cadenza, and every soloist in turn, a highly idiomatic self-portrait. False cadences, quirky phrase-endings and outright silliness trumped any sense of decorum. Hooray.

The second violin concerto of JS Bach, BWV 1042, was a moment to hear concertmaster Barantschik at his best. We were not disappointed. He is an elegant player. Superb posture projects every sound to the house. Phrases live in a natural realm, and his bow-arm is an eloquent machine in their display. His up-bows in the Allegro shone aloud. Barantschik is also a superb judge of silence, and unafraid of its power. In the second movement, each sequence was set off by thoughtful brackets of silent expectation. Hooray again. In the third movement it was clear how much his colleagues enjoy and respect his leadership. Here, a word about them. Led by Jeremy Constant sitting first chair, they were especially attentive to phrase imitation and phrase end. This sense of closure was just one of many pleasures in this concerto.

The afternoon was billed as being 'conducted' by Barantschik. This was barely so. He used no baton, stood on no box, and only once was seen to keep time with his bow. (The great Sandor Végh remains inimitable.) All else was the work of a man committed to the music, and to his colleagues in the making of it — chamber music times twelve. A final hooray.