Friends, Flutes and Fun

The people of Boston, unfortunately, did not turn out in droves to see James Galway, perhaps the most well-known classical flautist of our time, perform an all-Baroque concert on Sunday afternoon with some of his longtime collaborators: harpsichordist Phillip Moll '66, violist Sarah Cunningham, baroque violinist Monica Huggett, and flautist Jeanne Galway, James Galway's wife. There were many empty seats at Symphony Hall, and at the beginning of the concert Galway apologized to the audience for keeping it in on such a beautiful day. He and his friends then proceeded to give a concert that was as wonderful and sunny as the weather outdoors.

A unique feature of Galway's concerts is the introduction he makes before each piece he performs. These are usually humorous bits giving a brief history of the work. Examples include the tale of the Emperor and flute addict Frederick the Great and his teacher Quantz, which introduced the Bach Sonata in E major for Flute and Basso Continuo, (BWV 1035) and the dangerous nature of dancing in the baroque period, which introduced Couperin's La Pie'montoise. According to Galway, one wrong movement of the finger could cause a person to literally lose his or her head. These comic lectures, intended to make the concert more accessible to those with a limited knowledge of classical music, greatly decreased the formal atmosphere of the concert hall; he requested that people not clap between movements for fear that it would appear that there was nepotism in the audience.

The first piece was a light and airy G Major Sonata by Bach (BWV 1039) for two flutes and basso continuo, including all the players except for Huggett and with Jeanne Galway on the golden flute that is a trademark of her husband. The playing was excellent all around, with the Galways flawlessly performing a passage that requires technical perfection if it is to be successful, creating an elegant echo effect. Cunningham and Moll were solid backup players, neither too loud and intrusive nor too quiet and listless. Except for a few fluffy notes on one of the flutes at one point, the performance was perfect.

Huggett took center stage for the next work, the Sonata in D Major for Violin and Basso Continuo by Jean-Marie Leclair, which she performed with Cunningham and Moll. Huggett and Cunningham have performed together as part of a chamber group, the Trio Sonnerie, and it showed in the lively interplay between the two musicians. Huggett's clear, sharp playing was a marvel, and both Cunningham and Moll, who provided a solid background to Huggett's soaring violin, ably supported her.

Galway returned to the stage for Couperin's La Pie'montoise, a sonata and suite in fourteen parts, many of them dances. The piece showed the greatest range in terms of mood, shifting from cool elegance to pensiveness to a delicacy evoking spring. Especially interesting was the interaction between Huggett and Galway, a look of complicity between them finding its musical expression in a passage filled with repetition, as the two echoed both each other and themselves in repeating the same passages. The applause was warm after the surprisingly sudden ending, with especial kudos for Galway and Huggett.

After the intermission, Cunningham got her solo moment with Marais' Suite No. 4 in A minor for Viola da Gamba and Basso Continuo, prefacing her performance with a definition of what a viola da gamba is-a string instrument more closely related to the guitar than the violin and its ilk, despite its name and appearance--and a discussion of the "softer side" of baroque music, explaining that baroque music was played at a softer volume than music today is. She then proceeded to play the quietest piece in the program, with a rich and hazy sound which made it almost hypnotic at times, ending with another unexpected finish.

The last two pieces brought Galway back onto the stage, his brassy, clear sounds bringing the volume back up again after Marais' Suite. The Bach Sonata in E major was purely a Galway showcase, the other players fading in the background for once as he overwhelmed them with his flawless playing. The Telemann Quartet in D Minor, however, brought the whole group on stage for the finale, and all contributed to the success of the performance of that work. Huggett and Jeanne Galway, especially, shone in this work, Huggett's playing so clear and light that she almost sounded like a third flute. Feet were tapping as the program reached its conclusion, the artists finishing to insistent applause.

The two encores were an almost ghostlike reminder of the pleasures of the concert. First was a small technical piece for two flutes in E minor by a composer whose name seems to be Schulz, performed by the Galways. It was a fluttering piece that showed the Galways' ability to twitter adorably on their flutes at nearly the speed of sound. For the last encore--a repetition of one of the movements from the last work--Galway insisted that the audience close its eyes for the final farewell. As the musicians played the work almost inaudibly, the concert seemed to be fading already into a beautiful memory of classical music at its best.