I suspect there remain a sizable number of music-lovers who still believe that the early music galaxy is populated by timid souls who cautiously coax feeble squeaks from gawky, undersized instruments that no one else wants to play, and the vocalists who sing this music sound like English choir boys with a bad cold. It will take all of three minutes of Richard Savino’s “El Mundo” ensemble to demolish this hoary stereotype.

Savino and company performed an exhilarating concert of 18^th-century Spanish music Saturday night at the Mission Basilica San Diego de Alcala, an appropriate venue because much of this repertory is associated with the work of Catholic missionaries in the Spanish colonies of Central and South America as well as Alta California. Hearing parts of a Mass, devotional songs, and portions of an opera about St. Ignatius Loyola surrounded by statues of saints and flickering votive candles in the beautifully restored 1813 mission was a transporting experience.

“El Mundo” is a tightly-knit ensemble of three singers and five instrumentalists, including Savino, who plays the Baroque guitar (an instrument smaller than the modern acoustic guitar, but larger than a mandolin). While he is the ensemble’s director, he does not conduct, although either he or principal violinist Monica Huggett started each ensemble movement with a nod of the head or slight wave of the bow. To be a director in this sort of ensemble means doing the homework, digging up the music (sometimes literally) and arranging parts.

From the first piece, a Domenico Scarlatti Sinfonia that called for all of the “El Mundo” instruments, the group established its vibrant, propulsive approach to this repertory. Huggett’s slashing downbows appeared almost violent, yet the musical result was a sustained jubilation with an electric pulse. The British violinist is one of early music's most acclaimed performers, and it is our good fortune that she has decided to spend part of her annual schedule on the West Coast leading the Porltand Baroque Orchestra.

Sebastián Durón’s operatic villancico “Ya que el sol misterioso,” a uniquely Spanish fusion of mystical ecstasy, increased the program's drama, especially with mezzo-soprano Janelle DeStefano’s passionate delivery. But the Durón piece was only a warm-up to Rafael Antonio Castellanos’ fiery “Oygan una Xacarilla,” also sung with magnificently executed vocal cascades by DeStefano in her ample soprano range. From the text, this song is clearly a canticle of praise to the unblemished virtue of Mary, Queen of Heaven. But from the earthy spirit of the music, this is Don José lustily taking in Carmen for the first time as she exits the cigarette factory. It’s not surprising that later in the 18^th century, the Spanish bishops banned this type of music. What a loss!

Joined by sopranos Phoebe Alexander and Jennifer Ellis Kampani, DeStefano and the instruments offered five melodious movements of the “Missa de Los Angeles” by Fr. Juan Sancho, a Spanish priest-composer who spent much of his career at the Mission San Antonio de Padua in Central California. Homophonic choral music written in the easy, sweet manner of Michael Haydn, the texture was enriched two violins that copiously ornament the voices, while the cello, chamber organ and guitar provide a secure harmonic foundation. Following a typical Baroque convention, these compact mass verses alternated with verses of Gregorian chant. The three vocalists sang the chant with great warmth and gentle inflections—even a hint of vibrato—that touched the listeners’ hearts in ways that the more staid, aloof manner of male chant choirs seldom does. In terms of Christian theology, this is the voice of the loving, incarnate God, not the remote Creator enthroned in majesty. As a missionary tool, the role of this seductive music cannot easily be dismissed.

The other program highlight was an excerpt from Domenico Zipoli’s opera “San Ignacio,” a work composed for his fellow Jesuits in South America and found in Bolivia, where the Jesuits used such sophisticated means to teach the populace about the life of faith. Although this work is from the same period at Handel’s most famous operas, Zipoli’s vocal writing does not scale Handel’s empyrean heights. Nevertheless, “San Ignacio” exudes undeniable charm as it portrays a young Ignatius Loyola, sung with confidence and vocal allure by Kampani, assaulted by doubts in the form of various heavenly and demonic messengers. These roles were gleefully covered by Alexander and DeStefano with fervid declamations that tugged at the saint’s young soul. I do think that DeStefano had too much fun playing the Devil’s advocate—here most literally—as she implored Ignatius get in step behind Satan’s banner. The opera and the concert ended with a florid aria by the three vocalists singing different texts simultaneously, a delightful foretaste of a musical-dramatic feat Mozart would “discover” many years later.

This musical banquet offered many other delectable items including Savino’s fluent rendition of dances by Gaspar Sanz on Baroque guitar and Corey Jamason’s fleet account of two Scarlatti Sonatas on the chamber organ. Fine “basso continuo” work was supplied by cellist John Lutterman, and violinist Lisa Grodin did as well as anyone might playing second fiddle to Huggett.

We have the San Diego Early Music Society to thank for bringing these stellar musicians to the best possible venue for such a concert. For anyone taking notes—this is how early music should be done.