There are some concerts which leave you overwhelmed with a wave of optimism for chamber music as an art form: the musicians push you to the edge of your seat and evoke an emotional response that can scarcely be articulated, and the cumulative result leaves you feeling profoundly enriched. Regrettably, this was not one of those. The Australian debut of La Gaia Scienza – who seldom perform outside Italy – appeared to be one of the most enticing concerts on offer amid a stellar lineup for the 2017 Adelaide Festival. But, contrary to expectations, the obscure Italian period ensemble failed to captivate in a performance marred by tuning issues, wrong notes and a lack of verve.

La Gaia Scienza formed in 1981 in Como, Italy, and currently consists of violinist Stefano Barneschi, cellist Paolo Beschi, violist Ernest Braucher, and pianist Federica Valli. An ensemble best known for their recordings of Schubert and Brahms back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, they perform chamber music on the instruments it was written for – usually a fortepiano, and a violin, viola and cello with gut strings. You have to admire the resolve of any chamber ensemble that remains steadfastly committed to performing on period instruments for over 30 years. Gut strings and Baroque bows necessitate a heightened sensitivity to sonority and colour, and tuning is a perpetual challenge for even the most skilled of string players. Get it right, and it can sound breathtakingly refreshing and assured. Get it wrong, and it can sound raspy and exceedingly dull.

Far and away the most notable shortcoming of the evening was the printed programme, which did not even list the individual movements of the works on offer, and consisted of a very brief and uninformative biography. A quick Google search provided little elucidation: La Gaia Scienza have no official website, no Facebook page and no Wikipedia entry. It may have been useful to know, for example, what make of string instruments each member performed on. Furthermore, it would also have been advantageous for the programme to state the correct piano in the credits, which was in fact an 1869 Érard, generously on loan from Neal Peres Da Costa, and not – as the programme stipulated in fine print – a Conrad Graf replica fortepiano made by Paul McNulty in 2004.

Regardless of one’s preference for Historically Informed Performance practice, anyone with a musically trained ear would have immediately perceived an air of nervous agitation amongst La Gaia Scienza, who performed as if wrong-footed from the get go. Opening with Schubert’s beguiling Notturno in E flat, D. 897, graceful arpeggios in the piano set an idyllic mood, but as soon as the violin and cello joined in unison, the ensemble’s sound become dominated by the mid-range. The piano in particular, with its wispy upper register and murky bass, seemed to cry out for a more intimate salon-sized acoustic.

La Gaia Scienza were at their most convincing only when a particular instrument rose above the texture in a solo line, as cellist Paolo Beschi did in the opening Allegro con brio of the Brahms Piano Trio in B, Op. 8 (1899 version). As soon as the other musicians joined in, the clarity and logic of each phrase decreased. One sympathises with pianist Federica Valli, who had the most difficult task of adjusting to the old Érard, and was evidently pushed well beyond her comfort zone. Octaves were dispensed with frequent wrong notes, while in the formidably taxing Scherzo, the occasional bar here and there had to be improvised as she struggled to find her feet.

Similarly, frequent tuning and intonation issues plagued both the violin and cello. But more detrimental than wrong notes and pesky tuning aberrations was a consistently feeble stage presence that proved difficult to ignore. La Gaia Scienza performed as if they were simply going through the motions, their emotional responses inhibited and, at times, entirely muted. Violinist Stefano Barneschi in particular, wore a consistently blank expression, and tempos were all too calculated and devoid of spontaneity.

The finest playing of the evening came in Schubert’s String Trio in B Flat, D. 471, where violist Ernest Braucher helped balance out some of the rough edges in their sound. But the concluding Brahms Piano Quartet in C minor, Op. 60 proved another problematic beast. Here, one craved a more intense dynamic range and a greater variety of nuance. As the music grew more animated, perhaps what was most striking was a lack of communication between the performers, their eyes remaining invariably transfixed on the scores before them. The performance seemed bereft of any sense of risk as the players maintained a consistent tempo with perplexing rigidity – an approach that precluded rubati and made for an underwhelming and entirely predictable listening experience.