For the past seven years the Albuquerque Baroque Players have been presenting programs of music devoted  to exploring the musical riches of the 17^th and 18^th centuries, performed on instruments contemporary to that era. Sunday afternoon's concert at the Historic Old San Ysidro Church in Corrales featured music by Corelli, Bach, Telemann, Marais and even a woman composer, Elisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre.
 
Arcangelo Corelli wrote very little music in comparison with his contemporaries, but he was fortunate enough (and talented enough) to have the time to polish it to perfection, and his forms became the standard for most of Europe. Alternating slow and fast movements, the Trio Sonata in D from Opus 4 that began the concert features a quirky Corrente alternating rhythms of 2s and 3s, and a spirited Giga to conclude the work with exchanges of melody and intricate interplay between violin and oboe.
 
J.S. Bach’s Sonata for Violin and Harpsichord No. 6 in G, his last in that form, is unique in that it includes a middle Allegro for harpsichord solo, here given virtuoso treatment by Susan Patrick, with the violin part in the other four movements played by Linda Vik.
 
While there were not many women composers during the period, there were definitely a few, mostly coming from convents. From the pen of Elisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre we heard the Suonata in c for oboe, violin and continuo. This charming work contains six movements that run continuously, ultimately culminating in a sweet Aria affettuoso.
 
Corelli’s Sonata in D from Opus 5 was performed on the viola da gamba (literally, viol for the legs, or in other words, an early version of the cello) by Mary Bruesch, concluding with a lively and elaborate Gavotta.
 
The French viol player and composer Marin Marais, both the man and his music, came to the attention of contemporary audiences a few years ago with the film Tu les matins du monde ("All the Mornings of the World"), which incidentally is just about to be released on DVD. He composed a number of suites that he called “Pieces en trio.” The one in e minor is written in eight movements, five of them dance forms. This work was given by violin and continuo with MaryAnn Shore performing on the recorder for the first half and switching to oboe for the last movements.
 
The final work, a Trio Sonata in g minor by Georg Philipp Telemann, was taken from his Essercizii musici (Musical Exercises). A work full of musical challenges in the fast movements particularly, its highlight is a very tender Andante, here given a warm and sensitive execution.
 

As usual, there are extensive and informative concert notes giving even a newcomer a basis by which to appreciate the music. As MaryAnn Shore told us, “We like to talk about the music.”

Despite the two-century gap in harmonic idiom, Haydn and Prokofiev had a great deal in common when it came to basic compositional philosophy. Both men’s work can be characterized by ingeniously attractive melodies used in brilliant and ever-resourceful ways. The humor, satire and even playfulness of Prokofiev is something all too frequently missing in even the best of 20^th century composition.
 

The Violin Concerto No. 2 is a case in point. Highlighted by one of the most beautiful slow movements in the literature, it is chock full of immediately attractive rhythms and melodies (certainly no less profound for being attractive), held together by Prokofiev’s characteristic and distinctive harmonies. For the soloist this is a work of immense challenge, not simply because it is difficult, but because of its rewards for both player and listener.

Caitlin Tully began the work in a solo passage of several rising phrases, and from there until the end of the piece rarely took her bow from the strings. Simply playing all the notes is an enormous feat of virtuosity—-consider the devilishly difficult passages in 7/4 and 5/4 time--yet Tully demonstrated far more than technical accuracy. She plays with an informed musicianship and beautiful sense of line, especially on display in the gorgeous second movement. O’Connor too, masterly held together the ensemble, carefully co-coordinating with Tully yet fully capturing the sprightly spirit of the piece.
 

The Kleines Requiem fur ein Polki (Little Requiem for a Polish Woman) by minimalist composer Henryk Gorecki separated the Haydn and Prokofiev. I will freely admit that minimalism has never been my cup of tea. The work is characterized by a series of repeating patterns which never develop—-they are never intended to develop. Most of the piece is soft and atmospheric with several loud outbursts, the first employing an incessant 5-note motive, and the next sounding as if it were taken from Khachaturian’s Sabre Dance.