This recording vividly demonstrates the absurd pedantry sometimes found in the authentic performance movement. Joseph Haydn wrote his Trumpet Concerto in 1796 to premiere Weidinger’s new “keyed” trumpet, the first such instrument to be fully chromatic. In light of Haydn’s interest in making use of the most advanced instruments available, and the ongoing improvement in trumpet construction up to the present day, what sense does it make to dig out this old, unreliable, hard-as-hell-to-keep-in-tune relic? Would Haydn have wanted his masterpiece played this way today? Hearing Crispian Steele-Perkins, a highly talented and accomplished trumpeter, valiantly struggle to overcome the instrument’s mechanical deficiencies (mainly its crude key action, making for rough approximation of pitches), I have to think that even a man with as finely developed a sense of humor as Haydn wouldn’t find this the least bit funny. It’s really a shame to hear Steele-Perkins’ excellent musicianship and irreproachable style go for naught, with numerous passages in the first and third movements making you cringe, as if you were listening to a second-rate high-school band concert. And the results are even more disconcerting considering the availability of magnificently played versions by Maurice André and Wynton Marsalis (who also excels, albeit in an overly smooth manner, in the Hummel Concerto.)
For the Mozart, Michael Haydn, and Hertel concertos, Steele-Perkins uses a reconstructed 1780s clarino trumpet, modified in 1985 by the addition of “vent” holes for increased tuning flexibility. It certainly helps that composers knew full well the limited number of notes this “natural” trumpet could play, and Steele-Perkins’ instrument sounds with much greater accuracy and security of pitch, as well as a satisfying ring in the high notes. (But if it needed to be modified in 1985, then why not just use a modern trumpet?) The Michael Haydn concerto in particular, with its stratospheric tessitura, lets Steele-Perkins show off his stunning technique. Stunning also is the word for Robert King’s bracing and highly-charged performances with the King’s Consort in all the works on this disc. The recording is unusually bright for a Hyperion production, with the authentic strings sounding rather thin. For historians, most of all.
