Basilica dei Santi Bonifacio e Alessio - afternoon concert
Basilica dei Santi Bonifacio e Alessio, Rome, 4/1/2026
Unnamed ensemble of anonymous Italian musicians
I’m no Audrey Hepburn, but I do like a Roman holiday. So it was that my husband and I spent New Year in Rome, exploring the many delights of the city and finding some musical treasures including the Museo Nazionale degli Strumenti Musicale (housed in a former military barracks), and the jewel-like collection of keyboards owned by musician Romeo Ciuffa in Monte Compatri, a beautiful hilltop town outside Rome.
Alerted by a fellow music-lover, on the first Sunday of 2026 we went to the imposing 4th century Basilica dei Santi Bonifacio e Alessio on the Aventine Hill for an informal concert of Baroque works given by an unnamed group of musicians. We had no idea what to expect, as the concert was not advertised anywhere, so we were astounded to discover over 350 keen Roman music lovers gathered in the huge church.
Behind the main altar a large presepio (Nativity scene) was placed, incorporating recognisable Roman landmarks such as the nearby Pyramid of Caius Cestus, and scenes from everyday life at the time of the birth of Jesus. This tradition was started by Saint Francis of Assisi in 1223, using a real manger, ox, and ass to convey the Nativity story to peasants unable to read the story in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Most of the 900 plus churches in Rome have an elaborate presepio displayed between 8 December (the Feast of the Immaculate Conception) and 6 January (Epiphany), sometimes with the incongruous modern addition of a large Christmas tree bedecked with flashing lights and colourful decorations. We saw a fair few during our visit.
There was no printed programme, and the pieces were introduced very briefly in quick-fire Italian, but I found my informant after the concert and pieced together the music played. The ensemble of experienced professional musicians consisted of two violins, viola, cello, double bass, and theorbo, plus a duo of flutes – all Baroque instruments.
The first piece for the strings was Corelli’s ‘Concerto Grosso in G Minor, Op. 6, No. 8’ – known as the ‘Christmas Concerto’. This was appropriate because, well, Christmas, but also because it was commissioned by the Roman Cardinal Pietro Ottoboni. The musicians played in the round halfway down the nave with the audience arranged round them, which gave the music an intimacy and immediacy which can be lost with the separation of musicians and audience.
The strings retreated to be replaced by two flautists. Their first piece was Michel Blavet’s ‘Sonata in G Major for Flute, Op. 2 no 1’, arranged for two flutes. The flutes followed each other, at first slowly then swiftly, spiralling up to the soaring roof in exaltation. Blavet was a flute virtuoso, and his music reflects this commitment to exploring how far the instrument can go.
This was followed by the Allegro/Adagio from the ‘Sonata No 3 in E Flat Major’, F. 55 for two flutes by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. Once more demanding the highest technical skill from both players, this piece shows W.F. Bach’s mastery of improvisation in composition.
After the interval, the strings returned, some wearing coats to counteract the January chill of the basilica. The second half opened with a short and charmingly simple arrangement for strings of Henry Purcell’s song ‘If Love’s a Sweet Passion’ from ‘The Fairy Queen’.
Then the two flutes joined the strings for the final piece, Vivaldi’s ‘Concerto for Two Flutes in C Major’, RV 533. The dialogue between the soloists and strings was exciting and masterful, the two flutes placed in a circle formed by the string players and producing a beautifully concentrated sound.
We reeled out from this superb experience to see Rome stretched below us – what a memorable first concert of 2026. I look forward to many more!
