Baroque Testers' Reviews, Part 2
23.6.2025
Reports from the Baroque Testers – The Scents of Versailles Concert, 21 March 2025
1)
No Candlelit Flattery in a Classical Concert
My companion thought we were headed to a “candlelight concert” when I mentioned candles. We had spent the whole winter at home burning LED and scented candles to fend off the darkness. With scented candles, I’ve sought sensory experiences: pine forests, fireplaces, the spices of Christmas—and in the process, desensitized myself a bit to strong smells. I’ve also noticed that a candle usually needs to be extinguished quite quickly, or that I simply can’t tolerate all scents. Sometimes at concerts, a "perfume bomb" sitting nearby makes listening difficult—most recently in February at the Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg, where a man (!) sitting three heads away became an all-evening torment.
In the hall of the House of Nobility, a faint scent lingers. I wonder if I’ll manage. Fortunately, I find it pleasant, although the sensation subtly intensifies as the concert goes on. Luckily, my body accepted the scent: no coughing, no headache. How lovely it would’ve been to sit beneath flickering candlelit chandeliers, casting a dim, atmospheric glow. My eyes craved the salon ambiance of Versailles to accompany the scent.
The mood was intimate—the forte produced by the 3–4 instruments was quite modest. I found myself admiring the nuances in the very quiet passages. Likewise, the minimalism in Marais’ music and the hypnotic harmonic repetitions were wonderful. Listening to 31 variations after a workday didn’t put me to sleep—it held me in its grip.
Once again, my attention was drawn to the Musettes of the Baroque with their lovely, stubborn pedal tones; the Tambourins transported me to Irish/Scottish moods, with Anthony Marini’s violin playing sounding so nuanced and yet rustic—like being simultaneously in a salon and a tavern.
Tonight, for me, the violas da gamba mostly commented, underlined, whispered. Alongside Marini’s violin, it was the harpsichord that truly led the concert! A glorious cascade, delightful ornamentation, a resonant and warmly ringing sound mass. How sensitively Marianna Henriksson shifted tempos, stretched phrases, then suddenly locked into a tight groove again. The harpsichord was anything but boring. Even the tunings felt like miniature pieces, listened to like a prologue.
2)
My multi-sensory experience began the moment I entered the hall, where the Trudon scented candles burning in the space immediately set the mood. What a brilliant idea!
The concert opened with Marin Marais’ Sonnerie de Sainte-Geneviève du Mont de Paris. As someone who enjoys Baroque music but is not well-versed in its theory, history, or structure, I found myself particularly drawn to the piece’s form and rhythm. This was largely due to the beautifully resonant harpsichord, whose ornamental patterns and rhythmic vitality supported and carried the other instruments. Listening to this work sparked a desire to dive deeper into Baroque music and learn more.
Élisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre’s Violin Sonata in D minor was likewise a pleasure to hear. What stood out to me was the cinematic quality of the music, its sentimental and powerfully melodic expression. It was easy to settle into the listening experience. I felt this piece could speak even to those who don’t typically care for Baroque music or who enjoy it more moderately.
François Couperin’s Troisième concert from the Concerts royaux collection made me reflect on the composer’s versatility. Several years ago, I heard his music consciously for the first time, and since then I’ve discovered something new from him each time I’ve listened.
From Marais’ Les folies d’Espagne (Pièces de viole, Livre II, No. 20), the Theme and 31 Variations at times evoked a near folk-like atmosphere.
Jean-Philippe Rameau’s Troisième pièce de clavecin en concert (Pièces de clavecin en concerts) guided us from melodic reflection back into the concert hall, giving just the right energy to savor the final sounds of the evening.
The concert was a refreshing experience in the midst of daily life, and I found myself returning to the pieces again at home, with pleasure.
3)
On a brisk and windy March evening, I walk across Senate Square toward the House of Estates. Tonight’s offering is FiBO Players’ Scents of Versailles concert. This is not my first Baroque concert—some of the evening’s repertoire and the performers are familiar, so I think I know what to expect.
The first surprise hits as soon as we enter the grand hall. The mysterious scent of the candles, the dimly glowing chandeliers, the stage lighting, and the dozens of coats of arms adorning the walls set my imagination in motion. The audience finds their seats and falls silent as the musicians step out.
The concert opens with Marin Marais’ Sonnerie de Sainte-Geneviève du Mont de Paris. It begins with a hypnotic theme from the harpsichord and viola da gamba, over which the violin begins to weave its melody. The resonating gamba and virtuosic violin engage in endless dialogue, underpinned the whole time by the same three-note, monotonous ostinato: one-two-three, one-two-three. Minutes pass, the music continues, and the listener begins to sink into a trance. We’re no longer in 2025, no longer in the House of Nobility in Helsinki, but in the court of Versailles in the 18th century, where the intoxicating scent of waxed floors overwhelms the senses and conjures hallucinations.
Next comes Elisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre’s Violin Sonata No. 1 in D minor, shifting the mood to landscapes of sorrow and despair. The lamenting violin, mournful gamba, and trickling harpsichord chords bring the listener close to tears, especially in the slow movements.
Third is François Couperin’s Troisième concert from Concerts royaux. This is especially a celebration of the two gambas, which build toward a final frenzy so vivid that one almost hears bagpipes and the roar of organs in the midst of a carnival parade of fiddlers.
After the intermission, things get truly wild.
The ever-familiar Marais’ Les folies d’Espagne contains so many surprises this time around that one could easily listen to another 31 variations. After this performance, no one could question the enduring popularity of the theme.
Last comes Jean-Philippe Rameau’s Troisième pièce de clavecin en concert (RCT 9), which sweeps away the last remnants of reason. The music accelerates into such a whirl that it feels like being on a carousel—everything spins, the ground disappears beneath your feet. And just then, it ends—silence, followed by a storm of applause.
The encore, a Sarabande, rescues the audience from madness. The mood calms, the mind clears, and the world is once again in order.
The evening’s musicians—each a true master of their instrument—played as though they were one single instrument. Precise, expressive, seamlessly transitioning from one emotion to another. Guest performer Luolajan-Mikkola played like a seasoned maestro, honored and supported by the younger players. Their playing was light, playful, joyful—visible and audible all the way to the last row.
All this stirred up a flood of emotions and thoughts in the listener. That’s the magic power of music...
4)
Report available as a video on FiBO’s YouTube channel.
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Next reviews to follow from the concert “The Unbearable Lightness of Bohemia,” 11 April.
Applications for Baroque Testers were open in late 2024.