fter the reverberating sound of the catgut strings dissipated and the rosin settled, the audience gave a resounding cheer of approval—one that led to three subsequent encores. No, there wasn’t any chanting or loud stomping to bring the group back on stage, but there was a warm acceptance of a great perfor-mance demonstrated by one of the world’s leading early music ensembles.

	It's hip to be square, or at least play really, really old music. Too bad most people don't know this and missed Musica Antiqua Koln's fine show.

Musica Antiqua Köln played to a not-so-sold-out crowd in Libby Gardner Hall last Friday, which is rather unfortunate. Maybe the Latin-German name of the group was a little intimidating to the classical concertgoers. Or maybe, just maybe, John Schmidt (also performing that night) was more exciting. I practically had a whole row of seats to myself. Anyhow, despite the poor attendance, Musica Antiqua Köln provided a diverse concert experience that seems to be found only within the Virtuoso Series at Libby Gardner Hall.

Playing the works of both well known and little-known compos-ers of the Rococo and Baroque eras, the ensemble displayed not only technical capability, but also emotional intensity. The latter is saying a lot. Baroque music has a bad rap for being emotionally stale and one-dimensional. That single dimension is one of a never ending line of music that weaves in and out of various diatonic harmonies.
Yes, the repetition and dryness of the Baroque sound can seem rather uninviting and unexciting to the listener. Like modern music, Baroque music tends to be more enticing to the educated ear—the ear that knows what is going on musically. Yet, at the time of its conception, Baroque music was the party soundtrack of the day. The works of Albinoni, Telemann and Charpentier, to name a few, were simply dance pieces. The meter is clearly portrayed as to allow the aristocrats and not-so-aristocrats to dance and have a merry old time. Among the popular dances of the day were the graceful Sarabande and the raucous Gigue.

But now when one listens to Baroque music, there isn’t an automatic impulse to jump up and get your groove on. Contrarily, early music seems to fall in the category of background study music or simply relax-and-sleep music.
Yet Musica Antiqua Köln, using period instruments and catgut strings (yes, real guts of real cats—get over it, PETA), proved that Baroque music is still the vital and social music that it was origi-nally intended to be. One specific piece, the last one of the concert, displayed not only the group’s great ensemble chemistry, but also standout solo performances: La Follia by Domenico Gallo. It was a whirlwind of sound that traveled throughout the group and clearly demonstrated the literal English translation of La Follia: The Madness.

As this piece illustrates, most of the standout works of the concert were apparently those of lesser known composers. Among these, including the latter piece, was an Allemande from La Pacifique by Louis Constantin. The sweet, fugal theme was passed around through just six of the 13 instruments. The ease with which the instrumental-ists transferred the theme from one to another was an incredible dis-play of the ensemble’s chemistry. Furthermore, the uniformity and rich harmony of the sound lent itself to a great opening piece and set the tone for the engaging concert to follow. And engaging it was.

Despite the travesty of Baroque music being placed in the background and relegated to the status of old music that is only for academics, Musica Antiqua Köln forthrightly displayed this “antique” music in the foreground and allowed all listeners to enjoy the free, improvisational and immaculate spirit of the Baroque period.
christian@red-mag.com