Harpsichord
Instrument
Recordings featuring the harpsichord, the plucked keyboard instrument at the centre of Baroque music.
584 products
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C.P.E. Bach: Complete Keyboard Concertos Vol 18 / Spanyi, Abraham, Concerto Armonico
BIS · Jun 2012CD$21.99 -
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Frans Brüggen - The early recordings, Vol. 2
Glass, Rutter, Francaix: Harpsichord Concertos / Christopher Lewis

What a great disc this is: three delightful contemporary works for harpsichord and orchestra, easy on the ear, but clever and consistently interesting. John Rutter’s Suite Antique might be English Poulenc. The tunes are captivating, and the “antique” element needs to be taken with a large grain of salt (the “waltz” is subtitled “A Jazz Waltz”). The writing for flute and strings is immaculate, graceful, and sounds like great fun to play, while the keyboard solo takes excellent advantage of the instrument’s sparkling timbres and ability to delineate rhythmic patterns with gentle persistence. The performance is also terrific, as fine as the composer’s own, with John McMurtery an excellent flute soloist with a firm, round tone.
Glass’ Harpsichord Concerto also has plenty of arresting harmonies and a wide range of textures. The outer movements chug along with unquenchable vitality, and even touches of humor in the finale, while the central slowish movement makes imaginative play with a variety of melodic shapes. It’s extremely visual: you can almost see the music as it unfolds. Glass takes full advantage of the harpsichord’s natural ability to act both as soloist and accompaniment, with the result that the music’s shifting layers consistently entertain through, and not despite, the usual abundance of repetition.
As for the Françaix, the Concerto begins with two contrasting toccatas, followed by a songful andantino, minuet, and finale. It’s a zesty romp that brings the disc to a wholly winning close. Christopher D. Lewis plays a bright, sweet-toned harpsichord with minimal mechanical clatter. His digital dexterity proves very satisfying, and he’s excellently balanced against the extremely capable West Side Chamber Orchestra under Kevin Mallon. This is one of those discs that you might overlook, but you’d be missing a real treat. I’ve already played it several times just for pleasure, and so will you.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Jean-marie Leclair: Violin Sonatas, Book 2 Nos. 6-7 And 9-12
Five years after the publication of his first book of sonatas, Jean-Marie Leclair, the great exponent of the emerging French violin school, released his second book. He had continued to be influenced by the lyricism and virtuosity of Italian models but, concerned that the technical demands of his writing might prove excessive, ensured that a handful could be played either on the flute or the violin. Yet he continued to make considerable advances and the level of melodic invention and expressive intensity remained untouched, the result of a fusion of Italianate fire and French elegance. Together with Naxos 8.572866 this is the first complete recording of Leclair’s Op 2 Sonatas.
Jean-marie Leclair: Violin Sonatas, Book 2 Nos. 1-5 And 8
LECLAIR Violin Sonatas, op. 2, Nos. 1–5, 8 • Adrian Butterfield (vn); Jonathan Manson (vdg); Laurence Cummings (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.572866 (77:50)
Several years ago, the three Naxos discs comprising Adrian Butterfield’s performances of Jean-Marie Leclair’s first book of violin sonatas (Naxos 8.570888, 8.570889, and 8.570890) appeared, and I highly recommended them in Fanfare 35:3. Butterfield and harpsichordist Laurence Cummings have now returned, with Jonathan Manson rather than Alison McGillivray playing the viola da gamba, with an installment of six sonatas from the composer’s second book. Butterfield’s own notes relate that this set includes five sonatas for violin or flute (two occurred in the first book); and Butterfield emphasizes that Leclair intended these works for a wider group of performers.
The program, in order, opens with one of the sonatas in which Leclair offered the choice of violin or flute. Its four movements begin with an arch Adagio in which Manson displays the richness of the seven-string gamba made in 1978 by Curtis Bryant (Butterfield plays a violin made by David Rubio in 1996 after the 1734 Rode Guarneri del Gesù, while Cummings plays a 2000 harpsichord by Andrew Garlick based on a 1748 model). The book of sonatas appeared in 1728, after, according to Butterfield, Leclair had studied for a time in Turin with Corelli’s student, Giovanni Battista Somis. William S. Newman suggests that, through Somis, Leclair made the acquaintance of the music of both Corelli and Vivaldi; and later he would come under the spell of Corelli’s student Pietro Locatelli, whose devilish virtuosity appears, though restricted mainly to the lower positions, in Leclair’s later books of sonatas. Butterfield draws comparisons between Leclair’s allegro s and Corelli’s, but Somis’s sonatas, at least the later ones of op. 4 (written in 1726, about the year Leclair visited him), fall into three rather than four movements, as all these do. Somis’s works also don’t push the technical envelope far beyond Corelli’s—they’re very tame, as these by Leclair, for the most part, prove to be. Nevertheless, the Second Sonata in Leclair’s set employs double stops freely, and represents generally a more advanced technique. But Butterfield and his ensemble find the commonalties in these works, whatever their instrumentation or technical demands, in the starchy French style in which they present what Leclair had absorbed of the Italian style from his travels. And in the Finale of that Second Sonata, they abandon themselves to an Italian energy that recalls Vivaldi’s, featuring cadenza-like passagework.
The Third Sonata returns to the instrumental choice offered by the First Sonata—violin or flute—and therefore to the more moderate technical demands such a choice implies. Butterfield points out in the notes the melodic affinities of the opening movement of the Fourth Sonata to Corelli’s style, a parallel he and the ensemble exuberantly draw in the performance itself. But those familiar with Somis’s sonatas may find that these works resemble his as closely as they do Corelli’s. In any case, the ensemble brings sonorous virtuosity to the third movement, a double-stopped “Aria: Gratioso .” The Finale combines Corelli’s melodic manner with technically more demanding swirling double stops.
The Fifth Sonata again suggests the simplicity of an arrangement for violin or flute, but its first movement offers Manson, again, an opportunity to display the richness of both his tone and his musical imagination. After a Corellian (or Somisian) Allegro of considerable melodic and rhythmic verve—at least in this performance—the Sonata proceeds through an elegant Gavotte to a piquant Finale, in which Butterfield’s tart ornamentation lends a brisk energy. Butterfield points out that Leclair conceived the Eighth Sonata as a sort of duet for violin and gamba, and his interaction with Manson in the first movement bears out this observation. Its imitative second movement takes advantage of the same manner of writing, even if it isn’t so thorough-goingly polyphonic as similar passages in Corelli’s church sonatas. But Corelli’s personality shines through this movement’s melodic contours as well as through its counterpoint. The Sarabanda offers particularly rich opportunities for conversation between the violin and gamba; the Finale contains chains of trills that enliven its melodic discourse.
Butterfield remarks that violinists have not taken up Leclair’s first two books of sonatas, perhaps because of their modest demands; perhaps his insightful and cleanly-recorded performances (along with those of the first book) will revive some interest in them. Strongly recommended—and not just for the violinistic moments.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
Somis: Sonate da camera, Op. 2
Reina: Armonia Ecclesiastica, Op. 5
Bach: The Art Of Fugue / Sébastien Guillot
In an era where a few too many harpsichordists embrace these pieces with fussy agogics, crawling tempos, and a reverential halo, Guillot's fleet, uncluttered, and enlivening interpretations are positively refreshing. Ornaments and cadenzas are infused with improvisatory joy, while Guillot's rolled chords contain more gestural and expressive variety than we often hear. Should you prefer more repose and austerity (and some listeners undoubtedly will), I'd stick with Robert Hill, Gustav Leonhardt, and Davitt Moroney. But if Guillot's extroversion entices, then by all means supplement your collection with this inexpensive, beautifully engineered release.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier / Schornsheim
REVIEW:
German harpsichordist and pianist Christine Schornsheim has been making CDs for many years now; I’m mostly familiar with her collaborations with non-period performers such as tenor Peter Schreier and the German oboist and conductor Burkhardt Glaetzner. In fact, the only decidedly “period” CD of hers in my library is a Harmonia Mundi recording of Mozart four-hand music made a few years ago with pianist Andreas Staier on a Stein Vis-à-vis piano/harpsichord. Based on this admittedly limited experience, I was not prepared for the excellence of this release, nor for the depth of her understanding of Bach.
Complete recordings of the Well-Tempered Clavier have been coming fast and furious of late; one need only scan the 70-plus listings of Book I on ArkivMusic to see that the music has attracted harpsichordists and pianists of every stripe and persuasion. Since joining the staff of Fanfare , I’ve personally surveyed four versions, the most exceptional of which is undoubtedly Rebecca Pechefsky’s recording of Book 1 on Quill Classics, reviewed in Fanfare 34:3. The first hint that Schornsheim’s version might be a cut above the ordinary comes in her personal observations about the project, contained in the liner notes: “ The Well-Tempered Clavier has always had a healing effect on me. Whenever I felt bad, I sat down at the nearest keyboard and played fugues.” She goes on to say that despite being an immense challenge, recording the 48 plus 48 has cleansed her soul and given her inner peace. One could interpret this as mere advertising jargon, but I don’t think so. The sincerity of these statements is borne out entirely by the integrity and honesty of the playing on these CDs.
It may surprise you to learn that I don’t automatically subscribe to the early-music dictum that the WTC can be played only on the harpsichord. Like any instrument, the harpsichord has its pluses and minuses, and in the hands of a lesser artist, the harpsichord is ruthless in revealing weaknesses in phrasing and technique. (It’s also very easy to sound dull and mechanical on the harpsichord.) The modern piano, on the other hand, with its damper pedal and increased resonance, is less restricting for many artists, allowing for a freer interpretive approach—or so they think. The best artists, of course, can turn a handicap into advantage. Schornsheim capitalizes on the strengths of the harpsichord in ways that are often hard to verbalize, such as the almost imperceptible changes in articulation—which would be lost on the more resonant modern piano—that set one voice against another in a fugue, or the minute applications of rubato that make sense of the rhetoric of a prelude. It is a style of playing grounded in intense study of and appreciation for Bach’s music, but one that never sounds labored, forced, or unnatural. There is nary a misjudged tempo or instance of flagging inspiration here; throughout Books 1 and 2 the level of accomplishment is remarkably high. In the international arena of Bach performance, I predict that this release will enjoy immediate and widespread favor.
Another reason for the serious record collector to consider the acquisition of this set is the choice of instrument. It is the 1624 two-manual Ruckers (enlarged in France in the 18th century) housed in the Musée Unterlinden, Colmar. The instrument has been the subject of numerous recordings, most recently a Centaur CD of Couperin played by Lisa Goode Crawford ( Fanfare 35:4). It is simply one of the most magnificent-sounding French harpsichords in captivity, and it has never been recorded more intelligently and realistically than it is here. Highest recommendation.
FANFARE: Christopher Brodersen
Gervasio: Sonate a mandolino e basso
Scarlatti: Opera omnia per tastira, Vol. 6
Bach: Sonatas for Flute & Harpsichord
Cervetto: 6 Sonatas for 3 Violoncellos / Zeller, Frezzato
Six Sonatas or Trios for three Violoncellos or two Violins and a Bass, is the title of op. 1, published in London by Giacobo Basevi Cervetto between 1741 and 1745 circa. To the modern ear, it is curious to hear the terms sonata and trio referred to as synonyms: in fact, the genre – which in effect did experience a certain confusion regarding the terminology – is known today as the sonata a tre. As Cervetto was a cello concert musician, it is not surprising that his sonatas were composed for three violoncellos (two cellos and bass); the alternative of playing them with two violins was probably dictated by commercial reasons in order to interest a vaster public. We maintain that it is important to rediscover these sonatas who are little known to the public of today. These wonderful and unusual Sonatas are played on original instruments by Martin Zeller & Marco Frezzato.