La Compañia, the local early music group, gave the Tuesday night Sunset recital, dividing their time between the Tudor period and the roughly contemporary world of Spanish Renaissance music. Some of the company's members are familiar faces... Along with these comes a back-line of brass and reeds that never fails to delight because of its members' reliability under stress and the fervour they bring to their work. Even in a long and rhythmically complex work like the evening's finale, El Fuego by Mateo Flecha the Elder, the sackbuts of Glenn Bardwell and Bob Collins remained firm in delivery and true in pitch.

Mitchell Cross plays the dangerously exposed shawm, the most penetrating instrument of the group, with similar self-assurance, matched by the dulzian of Simon Rickard. But the one to watch in La Compañia is cornetto master Danny Lucin, who treats his difficult instrument with the sort of fluency that Genevieve Lacey brings to the recorder. La Compañia are performance purists; they don't interlard their work with commentary. But you can wait a long time before having the chance to relish such a telling combination of passion and scholarship.

La Compañia gave us unadulterated pleasure in a Los Maestros de Sevilla recital. It is reassuring to see early music aficionados wearing their talents without a grave pretension. The sackbuts of Glen Bardwell and Bob Collins mirror each other so closely it is hard to tell them apart without watching the movement of the their slides. Danny Lucin who plays the much maligned cornetto with impressive fluency and expressiveness: Mitchell cross oscillates with virtuosic ease from shawm to dulcian; Victoria Watts' gamba and Rosemary Hodgson's vihuela frame the group's sole singer, soprano Vivien Hamilton.

The Melbourne based ensemble La Compañia entreated us to the realm of the Spanish renaissance. Here, a dedicated group brought the epoch alive with their expertise on original instruments and scholarship. This is a handsome ensemble whose humble performance demeanour belies a fluid virtuosity.

Melbourne based group, La Compañia. this combination gave the proceedings more musical weight. La Compañia introduced both halves of the concert with rousing instrumental numbers, and Bob Collins on Spanish bagpipes wonderfully enlivened the acoustic with -some sonic barbarism that nevertheless blended in well with his companions.

Keep your eyes out for La Compañia. Its program was exciting in all respects: the instruments are deftly handled and rich in possibilities; the players kept in step throughout a great deal of rapid-moving dance music; there is a verve and bite to their style. Full marks for musicianship, variety and particularly, for enjoyment value.

Renaissance celebrations were clearly rowdy affairs but, as Tuesday evening's concert from La Compañia stylishly demonstrated, they also had their moments of elegance and subtlety. As part of the Melbourne Festival's Chamber Music Sunset Series 'Exquisite Song', La Compañia presented a program of English and Spanish music from the 16th and early 17th centuries. The packed audience was treated to an impressive variety of pieces, ranging from stately court dances such as the Pavan and Galliard by Innocento Alberti - an Italian musician active at the Tudor court in England - to a catchy chaconne by Juan Arañés, a work rooted in the popular dance rhythms of late Renaissance Spain. Extrovert pieces like these - played by the full ensemble with its complement of cornetto, shawm, dulcian and sackbuts (not to mention drums, violin, viola da gamba and a variety of early plucked instruments) - were interspersed with more reflective, intimate works, such as the two wistful songs from the "Henry VIII manuscript", in which soprano Vivien Hamilton was accompanied by the soft sounds of the viola da gamba (Victoria Watts) and lute (Rosemary Hodgson), while Lizzie Pogson tastefully ornamented the simple melodies on her Renaissance violin.

Ornamentation and improvised variations are the key to bringing Renaissance secular music to life, and La Compañia are well-versed in these techniques, spicing-up the repetitive rhythms of the dance music with some virtuoso embellishments from, say, Danny Lucin's cornetto or the raucous shawm of Mitchell Cross. The ensemble's intonation was near flawless - no mean feat with such otherwise recalcitrant instruments - and they blended well with the strong soprano voice of Vivien Hamilton. Not always strong enough, though, to prevent it from occasionally being swamped by the full ensemble, particularly in the more extrovert pieces such as Arañes' chaconne and 'El Feugo' ('The Fire') by Mateo Flecha the Elder . Vivien was heard to best effect in such works as Edward Johnson's "Elisa is the fayrest Quene", a sop to the vanity of the elderly Elizabeth I but sung here with such rapt intensity that what seems on a paper a mere work of sycophantic praise was transformed into a breathtakingly passionate hymn of love. My personal favourite, though, was the villanesca 'A un niño Ilorando' ('To a crying child'), a nativity piece by Francisco Guerrero, one of 16th century Spain's most important composers. Here Vivien's voice seemed to become one with the reedy tones of the two dulcians (Mitchell Cross and Simon Rickard), producing an ethereal sound which, combined with the work's swaying - almost hypnotic - rhythm, will ensure that this work will haunt me for days to come. 'Exquisite song' indeed.