This 2010 release from Chandos Early Music presents eight concertos – Nos 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 11 and 12 – selected from Tomaso Albinoni's Op. 10. Simon Standage and Collegium Musicum 90 give a refreshing new reading of the last printed collection by the Venetian musico di violino, published by Michel-Charles Le Cène at Amsterdam in 1735 or 1736. Although one of three known copies of the original edition of Albinoni's Op. 10 was discovered in a Swedish private collection in 1966, this opus did not gain the favour of critics or musicians in the following decades. Even so, two complete recordings were made by I Solisti Veneti and I Musici di Roma and were released several times on record and on compact disc. Recently, Albinoni's Op. 10 seems to have enjoyed a rise in popularity, with several ensembles sampling its concertos. Collegium Musicum 90 has already recorded four CDs of better-known works by Albinoni, whose aristocratic and measured style encounters a fitting rendering in its interpretation by this ensemble.

Albinoni introduced galant features in Op. 10, sprinkling the melodic line with appoggiaturas, triplet semiquavers and syncopations, but he remained loyal to his sober musical taste in the architecture of the parts. In these late concertos, issued when Tartini was already celebrating his early triumphs, Albinoni permits the violino principale to play larger solo passages in only a few cases. Maybe it was for this reason that Simon Standage included concertos Nos 8 and 12 in his selection, as these can truly be called solo violin concertos, while the others are string concertos without a particular soloist. Producing a beautiful and well-rounded violin tone in the slow movements, Standage resists falling into over-indulgent expressivity, but he might even have been a bit more courageous in ornamenting more passages in the manner that he used in the Largo of the eighth concerto (in track No. 11, for example, the line of the solo violin part might have been embellished to a greater degree). The final cadenzas marked in the first movements of the two violin concertos could have been more developed.

The convincing articulation, accentuation and tempo choices of Collegium Musicum 90 clearly find their apogee at the outset of the first movement of Concerto No. 11; this work is written in ‘Spanish style’, and fittingly so, since the ‘Homage to a Spanish Grandee’ refers to Don Luca Fernando Patiño, the dedicatee of Op. 10. Collegium Musicum 90 plays with impeccable technique and without the roughness common to so many early music ensembles. One might comment, though, that sharper distinctions could have been drawn between the piano and forte passages. Although the harpsichordist employs little motivic licence in realization of the figured bass, it is very effective when this does occur. The recording engineer seems to have pared down the reverberation in favour of capturing a closer sound. The booklet includes some nice illustrations, but regrettably lacks an eye-catching cover – the picture used to adorn the frontispiece might have been a little more handsome or creative than a cutout of an official portrait of Carlo III. The liner notes by Michael Talbot provide a very useful introduction to Albinoni's swan-song, and we would not expect otherwise from this distinguished scholar of the Venetian settecento. The German translation, surprisingly, contains many inaccuracies and is often simply erroneous. Aside from these small imperfections, this recording is highly recommended to lovers of the musical elegance of eighteenth-century Venice. It is a shame that Simon Standage and Collegium Musicum 90 did not produce a complete recording of the twelve concertos, but perhaps that could be a worthy project for the future.