Piffaro showcases Laughing Bird

Piffaro, Philadelphia's Renaissance wind band, was formed in 1980, when period instrument concerts were still novelties; now its artistic directors, Joan Kimball and Robert Wiemken, are internationally renowned elders of the early music community, in a position to offer young musicians a helping hand. Their "Piffaro Presents" programs spotlight newer early music groups.

Piffaro's latest event introduced The Laughing Bird— a vocal quartet consisting of four singers with familiar faces. Any Philadelphian who has attended concerts by Choral Arts Philadelphia, Lyric Fest, Tempesta di Mare, The Crossing or the Philadelphia Singers will have heard a few solos by members of this foursome.

Piffaro also likes to enhance its concerts with extras that recreate the historical settings that influenced Renaissance music. The music for last weekend's concert came from the court of Mantua, and Piffaro surrounded it with touches that created a modern version of a small-scale courtly entertainment.

Wine and hors d'oeuvres

The concert took place in a modestly sized upstairs room in St. Clement's Church, with all the audience seated within easy listening distance of the musicians. A reception with wine and ample hors d'oeuvres preceded the concert; the refreshment tables were set up in the concert room itself, so you could listen with wine glass in hand.

In keeping with the evening's purpose, Piffaro provided the singers with noteworthy accompanists. William Sims, one of the most active musicians on the national early music circuit, supported them on guitar, lute, and theorbo. Wind accompaniments flowed out of recorders, dulcians and bagpipes played by three artistic directors: Kimball, Wiemken and Gwyn Roberts of Tempesta Di Mare.

Most of the solos on the menu dealt with the ever-popular travails of unrequited love. Tenor Matthew Bradshaw expressed his unhappiness in the high, lamenting voice that suits music from this period. Bass Colin Dill enlivened the proceedings with a rare look at the more stoic attitudes of men with deeper voices. Mezzo Jennifer L. Smith contributed a feminine vote for romance even when it's painful.

Quest for trills

Soprano Leslie Johnson took on the longest assignment: "Arianna's Lament," from Monteverdi's lost opera about the ill-starred affair between Theseus and the daughter of King Minos of Crete. Johnson produced a touching performance, but I felt it would have been more effective if she had included more ornamentation.

"Arianna's Lament" is supposed to be a recitative, not an aria, so you can argue that it should be delivered with a straightforward style. But it's a longish piece, without much variety. It would have benefited from a few of the trills, shakes, and other additions that add color and interest to Renaissance and Baroque scores.

The ensemble pieces showcased the harmonies, sonorities, and interactions that four solo-level vocalists can produce when they decide to team up. A brief mass by Palestrina included several passages in which Johnson's clear soprano created a bright arch over the other three voices.

Rorem's rule

When the concert ended, the tables were still available and guests were invited to continue eating, drinking and chatting. The music became an hour of entertainment in the middle of a lively Saturday night social event.

The receptions that follow many concerts are one of the charms of the music circuit. "A concert," the composer Ned Rorem once observed, "is that which comes before a party." I suspect he would approve of the idea that it can also come in the middle.