Author: EMR2015

Virtuoso liturgical music from the early 17th century
Profeti della Quinta, Elam Rotem
66:29
Glossa GCD922516

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t is immediately obvious that this recording, much to its advantage, features a fine church (rather than a chamber) organ and further investigation reveals this to be a 17th-century original by Antegnati, no less. Six of the 23 tracks are, in fact, organ solos so we hear not only the accompanying stops and the rich chorus sound but also two delicious and very characteristic solo effects: head straight for tracks 16 and 22.

If I’m honest, the vocal music, though sung with exquisite taste and impressive agility, is of less intrinsic interest, though the manuscript and its context are fascinating. Essay and translations are in Eng/Fre/Ger and the source is available on IMSLP.

David Hansell

Yoann Moulin harpsichord & virginal
61:15
Encelade ECL1601

[dropcap]L[/dropcap]et me immediately draw attention to the lovely instruments used for this recording, an Italian style harpsichord (2012) and a virginal made in 2009 after a 1626 Italian original now in the Leipzig instrument museum. They are not elaborate instruments, but this means that their clear voices throw emphasis on to the content of the music. And in the case of Frescobaldi (rather more admired than played, I suspect) this is no bad thing. Most of the programme is drawn from Il primo libro di Toccate, including the substantial (to say the least) Folia, Romanesca  and Passacagli  variations. In addition, there are two pieces from Ricercari et Canzoni franzese  and one toccata from the second book.

The playing is sensitive and thoughtful, giving Frescobaldi his full status as a master – a disc for a quiet and pensive evening rather than a rabble-rouser. The booklet features some rather odd photographs and notes in French and English – a valiant translator’s attempt to convey the essence of the flowery original.

David Hansell

Richard Egarr harpsichord
154:59 (2 CDs in a wallet)
harmonia mundi USA HMM 907593.94

[dropcap]R[/dropcap]ichard Egarr plays the Partitas – Bach’s ‘Opus 1’ – on a 1991 harpsichord by Joel Katzman of Amsterdam after a Ruckers from Antwerp of 1638 which is tuned in his version of a 6th comma 18th-century temperament at a=399.

The instrument sounds rich and springy at this pitch, giving a bloom and mellow resonance to each note that Egarr can use to advantage to sustain the tone in the slower movements, while offering sufficient life and clarity in the faster passagework. I was never conscious of any artificiality in his chosen tempi, and the result of listening to all six partitas through at one stretch is of being mesmerised by the apparently effortless rightness of it all. So fluent, so sparkling, so dance-like, and yet so engaged, well-planned and serious a journey. Where did he get all this from?

Then I read his remarkable essay in the liner notes which describe what Egarr calls ‘the mind-boggling abilities of Bach to infuse this seemingly effortless music with godly patterns and personal algorithms of stunning brilliance.’ First he explores the numerology derived from the name, then moves to the mathematics of the Trinity and of Tempus Perfectum, paying careful attention to the cross shapes of the sharps in the key signatures in Partita 5 and then turns to Partita 6, where he finds Bach at the foot of the cross. ‘These cross figures contain predominantly intervals of the third and seventh. The three voices of this fugue, which takes us to the end of this world, enter in the first, third and seventh bars of each half. Is it a coincidence that Bach chose to delay publication until 1731?’

I can only give you a flavour of the theological and mathematical brilliance with which Egarr is convinced Bach’s music is infused, but I have never heard either such convincing arguments or such convincing playing. The more Bach I study, the more I am clear that it is not only the more obvious church music, performed in the service of the Lutheran rite, that reveals Bach’s comprehensive and coherent expression of his faith in all that he wrote.

This is a very good recording. Not only is the actual recording of a very high quality, but the performance could not be bettered either technically or cerebrally.

David Stancliffe

Davide Pozzi harpsichord
61:19
Pan Classics PC 10374

Pieter-Jan Belder harpsichord
77:40
Brilliant Classics 95471

[dropcap]O[/dropcap]ne of the things that struck me about two more Goldbergs to add to those by Christine Schornsheim (reviewed last October) and Ignacio Prego’s (reviewed last November) is the difference in timing. Pozzi, without seeming hurried (though he is very nimble) takes a mere 61.19 to the 79.08 of Prego, the 74.05 of Schornsheim, and the 77.40 of Pieter-Jan Belder. A second distinguishing mark is the instrument.Both Schornsheim and Pozzi play copies of a Mietke, though a different instrument: Schornsheim’s is a copy by Christoph Kern after a ca. 1710 instrument, while Pozzi’s is by Cornelis Bom after an undescribed Mietke: the mellow tone of both of them reveals a family likeness. Most distinct is the instrument used by Pieter-Jan Belder who chooses to play on a recent copy of a Ruckers of 1624, dating almost a century before the others. The action is noisier, and I instinctively associate the more clunky sound with composers a generation of two earlier than Bach like Sweelinck and his pupils.

Of the notes accompanying the CDs, Pieter-Jan Belder’s are the fullest and most detailed for those who do not know the music so well or do not have a score in front of them. His notes tell us that this is a replacement for his 1999 recording (already a second version!), and will be his last. In spite of that, I find his playing more staid, and, although more flexible than Schornsheim’s, a trifle mannered. That and the more ‘old-fashioned’ sound of his Ruckers-type instrument, tend to give us a more schoolmasterly performance as opposed to Pozzi, who has grace and fluency abounding. Even when Pozzi is playing in a slow tempo, the momentum derived from the essential dance rhythms behind so many of the variations tell you where the whole movement is headed. I like it, in spite of the very minimalist essay (in German, English, French and Italian), which is hot on structure and numerology but thin on Belder’s kind of exposition.

This minimalist essay, though, is revealing. Looking at the way the 30 variations and two statements of the Aria can be divided, Pozzi points to the Trinitarian 10 by 3, with groups of 3 – two variations and a canon in each – but notes also the two sixteen-fold divisions, with the French Overture opening the second part. He tunes his instrument to a modified Werkmeister IV at 415, while Belder discloses nothing except the maker’s name – Titus Crijnen 2014.

So in preference to the scholarly and considered third version of Belder and second of Schornsheim, I find myself more captivated by Prego, and even more by Pozzi. Which version you would like to have – you may already have many – is very much a matter of individual taste. Both versions reviewed here are excellently recorded and faultlessly – though differently – played. You will need to hear them both before deciding for yourself, but of all four, I will tire least, I think, of Pozzi.

David Stancliffe