Bach from Italy

The theme of this new album from Gli Incogniti is hardly unexplored. Many have traced Bach’s engagement with Italian music—especially the concertos popular in his time. Bach’s familiarity with Vivaldi’s L’estro armonico (Op. 3) is well documented, not least through his keyboard transcriptions of several of its concertos.

This program draws on Vivaldi and both Alessandro and Benedetto Marcello. At over two hours, the album offers familiar fare. For seasoned listeners, these works—beloved as they are—may not promise much novelty on paper.

Years ago, Concerto Italiano reversed the Bach–Vivaldi dynamic by arranging the Italian Concerto for strings. That felt fresh. By contrast, Amandine Beyer’s selection here—two Vivaldi concertos from Op. 3 alongside Bach’s BWV 1049, 1048, 1043, 1055R, 1064R, 1050, and 1060R, plus a concerto from each Marcello—leans toward the conventional, in terms of programming. A more intriguing concept might have paired Vivaldi’s originals with Bach’s own transcriptions. The inclusion of reconstructed concertos stretches the “Bach in Italy” premise somewhat thin, even if it offers variety. While liner notes by Olivier Fourès is included, a Vivaldi expert, there's no real attempt to point out to the listener just how "Italian" the Bach pieces are.

So the question becomes: are these performances compelling enough to justify another recording of such well-traveled repertory?

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Bach

The Brandenburg Concertos need no introduction, and three appear here. Their variety is part of their genius: No. 4 treats its two recorders as a single unit while unleashing a fiery violin part; No. 5 famously gives the harpsichord a capriccio of flamboyant proportions; and No. 3 replaces a slow movement altogether with a bridge of harmonic stillness.

In the non-Brandenburg works, the Italian connection feels closer. The slow movement of the Double Concerto (BWV 1043) often turns sentimental under other hands, but Beyer’s tempo keeps it poised. Fast movements throughout have energy without haste, and, true to period style, the ensemble avoids the lush vibrato that once plagued 1980s interpretations.

The reconstructed concertos (the “R” works) sound convincing. BWV 1055R, featuring oboe d’amore, moves briskly in its outer movements; BWV 1064R, for three violins, and BWV 1060R, for violin and oboe, are similarly effective. The triple concerto’s balance is different from what I recall in early recordings like Hogwood’s AAM, whose final movement had real propulsion. Here, the sound feels a little too reverberant; the detail in BWV 1064 blurs slightly. I wished the microphones sat just a touch nearer the instruments.

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The Marcellos

Benedetto Marcello’s E minor Violin Concerto unfolds in four movements. Beyer’s articulation and rhythmic verve shine, especially in the second movement, and the finale maintains that same electricity.

I’ve long found Alessandro Marcello’s music underwhelming—perhaps due to an uninspired recording years ago by Collegium Musicum 90—but Beyer and Gli Incogniti bring welcome vitality to his D minor Oboe Concerto. Emmanuel Laporte’s tone, though somewhat forced, is more appealing in Bach’s BWV 1055R. He meets Beyer’s brisk tempos with assurance and clarity.

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Vivaldi

Vivaldi is home territory for Beyer. Of the two concertos included, the B-minor Concerto for four violins (later arranged by Bach as BWV 1065) sparkles with ensemble unity. Articulation, phrasing, and spirit are fully aligned—everything we expect from a first-rate Baroque group.

One wonders what Bach would have made of Vivaldi’s later concertos; Op. 3 marks a summit, though his style continued to evolve beyond it. The slow movements here are played without vibrato and with beautifully shaped phrasing—a welcome restraint.

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Conclusion

This is a difficult album to recommend, not because it’s flawed—far from it—but because it offers little we haven’t already heard. The playing is excellent, the music evergreen, the sound sympathetic. Yet the concept feels familiar.

I think of Fabio Biondi’s Bach Concertos album, where he boldly recast keyboard concertos for violin; those performances still linger in memory for their daring and immediacy. Bach from Italy doesn’t strike quite the same spark. There are no radical tempos, no new arrangements, no audiophile revelation—just honest, stylish, and well-executed playing.

For newcomers to Baroque instrumental music, this would make an excellent entry point. For those well-traveled in this repertory (to borrow the metaphor from the car on the album cover), there’s little here that redefines the journey. Still, Beyer and Gli Incogniti remain a first-rate ensemble—refined, energetic, and unfailingly tasteful.