KARACHI, Nov 5: I had never heard of the ensemble of Italian musicians that operates under the moniker of Sweet Harmony. When I was told that the group was going to perform at the Avari Towers last Friday, I naturally assumed the singers were going to produce the kind of middlebrow schmalz that Perry Como and Dean Martin inflicted on the American public who listened in the mistaken belief that they were getting a taste of the kind of music that Italians were listening to in the old country. Nothing could have been further from that belief. The programme crafted by four mature Italian ladies turned out to be a pleasant surprise. In a phrase — it was the chronicle of a passion.

No country in the world has such an embarrassment of cultural riches as Italy, which has erected a cathedral of musical magnificence. And no nation has spawned so many lyrical and beautiful melodies whether they surfaced in a Rossini, Verdi, Puccino or Bellini opera or a folk song by di Capua, de Curtis, Denza or Cardillo.

In an Italian concert the central spire in a programme is often that sparkling jewel of the Mediterranean — the Neapolitan folk song. Over the years eternal classics like O Sole Mio, Dicitencello Vuje, Core ‘Ngrato, a Vucchella, and Torna a Surriento have been heard in places as far flung as Tierra del Fuego and Tasmania, and Friday’s programme predictably commenced with two of these memorable serenades.

Now I don’t wish to take anything away from the two sopranos Cinzia Del Col and Antonella Giacomin who sang with great enthusiasm and passionate fervour. But I have always believed that Neapolitan folk songs have been the strict preserve of the lusty tenors, with their slabs of unremitting seductiveness, who on occasion after ascending to the highest register have been reputed to shatter chandeliers.

One has to only listen to the recordings of the legendary Enrico Caruso, Giuseppe di Stefano, Mario del Monaco, Mario Lanza, Franco Corelli, the incomparable Beniamino Gigli, and Tito Schipa (who is considered one of the finest tenore di grazia in operatic history), to understand what I am getting at. Even the Golden Voices of Italy, Carlo Buti, Claudio Villa, Luciano Tayoli and Franco Ricci never strayed too far from the Bay of Naples.

The contemplative and emotionally powerful and melancholy Casta Diva from Norma by del Col was most enjoyable, as was the piece sung by Giacomin about the doll that has to be wound up in Offenbach’s Tales of Hoffman. The mezzo soprano also did a splendid job and her jerky theatrical movements evoked a generous applause.

Kettleby’s effervescent, highly descriptive tone poem In a Persian Market used to be a great favourite with the palm court salon orchestras of Alfredo Campoli and Albert Sandler in the 1930s. On Friday, with the pianist providing the foundation rhythm, Manuela Manfio had the field to herself as she waded delightfully though all the nooks and crannies of the colourful passages on her violin. One could almost see the pots and pans of burnished copper and smell the incense. Throughout the concert Manfio ably provided string accompaniment to the sopranos.

Now a word about Fiorella Mattiuzzo. Pianists in concerts who accompany singers, flautists or cellists usually have a quiet presence, as distinct from those recitalists who have the hall to themselves. Nevertheless, in Mattiuzzo’s hands, the grand piano was handled very well and the music skillfully wrought. She was particularly impressive in the Offenbach fantasy, never putting a finger wrong, faithful to the music’s modulations.

The Italian consul Roberto Francheschinis must be congratulated for hosting such a delightful gig and following it up with a sumptuous buffet. It was pure, undiluted hospitality. He has done justice to the land of Cavour, Mazzini and Garibaldi.