VIVALDI Violin Concertos: RV 352; RV 307; RV 268; RV 333; RV 210; RV 312; RV 350 • Duilio M. Galfetti (vn); Diego Fasolis, dir; I Barocchisti (period instruments) • NAÏVE 30474 (70:05)

Naïve’s third volume of Vivaldi’s violin concertos (and the 40th in its series, Tesori del Piemonte), “Il ballo,” brings seven concertos that either haven’t been recorded or appear in a new form. The notes by Olivier Fourés connect this music with its stamping rhythmic character—which it shares with Vivaldi’s œuvre in general (Fourés notes a sort of disconnect between music and the body that Vivaldi has infectiously rejoined). The Concerto in A Major, RV 352, combines startling textures and brilliant virtuosity, and the finale’s theme gives way to dramatic interjections.

Fourés traces the Concerto in G Major, RV 307, to about 1725 and notes both its “dramatic virtuosity” and its theatrical opening. As in the Concerto, RV 352, the work begins so tumultuously as almost to knock the listener off center. But its operatic slow movement consists of a liquid melodic outpouring. The finale begins contrapuntally before resolving into a highly nuanced melody for violin solo. The Concerto in E Major, RV 268, which Fourés assigns to the early 1720s, offers a more serene opening, but Galfetti enters with a rhythmic verve that suggests the connection that Fourés strives to forge with dance, even jazz. The finale includes a cadenza that, if not as strikingly virtuosic as the ones in RV 212a and RV 581 (citing only two of the most familiar), still should awe listeners. The Concerto in G Minor, RV 333 (also supposedly from about 1725), opens with a solemn, syncopated orchestral statement that demonstrates just how imposing a sonority Vivaldi could extract from a small string ensemble. Fourés identifies the work as one of Vivaldi’s favorites, because he used materials from it in other compositions (violinists Vivaldi and Tartini redistributed materials with an insouciance that would reappear later in Bach and Handel). The slow movement underpins its flowing melody with leaping staccato bass-like, harmony-outlining figures. In the finale, the orchestra builds, along with the soloist, to juggernaut-like climaxes.

The Concerto in D Major, RV 210, which Fourés describes as one of Vivaldi’s great virtuoso warhorses, may be familiar to listeners (particularly as Vivaldi’s op. 8/11), but not in this unpublished version, in which Vivaldi modified the solos. Galfetti doesn’t emphasize only the spectacular side of the solo, but the affective one as well, leaping thrillingly to notes in the higher registers and playing the ornamental figures with a flinty hardness that potentiates the excitement they generate. In the slow movement, he employs portamentos that, while different in character from those that formed the stock-in-trade of Romantic-era violinists, still bear expressive similarities to them and enhance the melodic line in much the same way. The orchestra lays bare a stark clarity in the finale’s well-known fugal theme that makes it sound fresh and almost unfamiliar, and the movement includes a virtuosic cadenza.

The brief Concerto in G Major, RV 312, bustles with energy, and the first movement of the longer Concerto in A Major, RV 350, features explosions of sound that few, including Il Giardino Armonico or the Venice Baroque Orchestra, have brought to—or found in—Vivaldi’s works. The slow movement drapes an expressive aria-like solo over a pizzicato accompaniment. In the finale, Galfetti once again employs expressive portamentos, here perhaps to highlight the drama of the leaping melodic line.

Duilio Galfetti makes the violin parts sparkle with highlights in the virtuosic moments and throb with affect in the slow movements. Diego Fasolis and I Barocchisti (10 violins, two violas, one cello, one violone, and lute and harpsichord) play with a timbral authority that’s visceral in its effect. The engineers have captured Galfetti just in front of the ensemble, highlighting his dominating role in these showpieces. Galfetti, making effective use of the range of his 2006 Michel Eggimann copy of a 1717 Stradivari, often employs dynamic shadings to heighten the rhetoric of his solo passages, while the ensemble makes a pyrotechnical timbral display throughout. Galfetti’s tone doesn’t always flow mellifluously, but he invariably communicates the music’s exuberance in the fast movements and languid beauty in the slow ones. For those who think they’ve heard as much variety as Vivaldi’s music can offer, this collection of unfamiliar concertos may provide a pleasant surprise. Urgently recommended.

FANFARE: Robert Maxham