Paul O'Dette performed a solo concert with Pegasus Early Music last Sunday. Credit: PHOTO BY JENNIFER GIRARD

The 17th century French lutenist and composer Jacques Gaultier was once praised for “the goodness of his hands —
the most swift, the neatest, and most even that ever
were.” That’s also an accurate paean for 21st century lutenist Paul O’Dette, who offered a blissful solo recital on Sunday
afternoon as part of the Pegasus Early Music series. O’Dette
has been at the top of the early-music world in America and Europe for decades
now, and while he lives in Rochester (he teaches at the Eastman School of
Music), he does not perform here very often, or at least not often enough.

“The Secret of the Muses” — the title of Sunday’s concert and
of an O’Dette recording — explored the Lute Book of
Lord Herbert Cherbury, a massive (242 pieces) source
of music by leading English, French, and Italian composers of the late-16th and
early-17th centuries. O’Dette’s program delved into
all three, with music by Nicolas Vallet, two members
of the esteemed Gaultier family, Giovanni GirolamoKapsberger (thoroughly
Italian despite his German name), and two Brits, Robert Johnson and Daniel Bachelar.

Lord Herbert (1582-1648) was James I’s ambassador to
France, and had modish but excellent musical taste. All these composers were
outstanding examples of their native styles: “the Italians emphasized virtuoso
passagework and searing dissonances; the French elegance and delicacy; and the
English tunefulness with beautifully proportioned ornamentation,” as O’Dette puts it succinctly in his own program essay. But,
he goes on to say, these composers also borrowed from each other, producing a
more cosmopolitan musical style in the process.

These composers were also fascinating individuals with
complicated lives, moving all over Europe to escape prosecution for murder (in
Jacques Gaultier’s case) or persecution for religion
(Nicholas Vallet, a staunch Protestant in highly
Catholic France, headed to Amsterdam). Interesting backgrounds for music that
can superficially seem like quaint entertainment. In fact, along with the usual
Renaissance rhythmic dances and melancholy ballads, a couple of the pieces on
this program were extremely substantial sets of variations on pop tunes of the
day, presented in an imaginative virtuoso style that often required retuning of
the lute strings.

O’Dette performed 28 selections
from Lord Herbert’s playlist with an easy virtuosity and complete authority. As
a performer, he doesn’t give a reviewer too much to write about — no swashbuckling
or idiosyncratic behavior (although he does screw up his face a little when
he’s executing a “searing dissonance”). Basically he just sits there and plays …
well, perfectly, producing a rain of precisely placed notes like Jupiter’s
shower of gold.

He dispatches challenging virtuoso fingerwork
and rhythmic complications as so much elegant fun, and he is perhaps an even
more treasurable performer in simpler music: his rendition of Vallet’s brief “Pavaneenforme de Complainte,”
to pick an example at random, struck me as about as perfect as a performance
can be. The muses don’t seem to be keeping many secrets from O’Dette.