Over the past decades, Dan Laurin has established himself as one of the most interesting recorder players of our time. His more than 30 critically acclaimed releases on BIS range from a seminal 9-disc set of van Eyck's Der Fluyten Lust-hof to contemporary concertos. The first recordings Laurin made for the label were of duets by Georg Philipp Telemann, and since then he has returned to the composer several times, recording chamber music and concertos. It is only now that he has set the complete sonatas on disc, however – works that he describes in his liner notes as forming part of most recorder players’ ‘musical DNA’. Performing them here with his regular chamber music partners Anna Paradiso and Mats Olofsson, Laurin revels in the wide technical and emotional scope of the sonatas as well as their stylistic diversity. In the C major sonata TWV 41:C5 Telemann looks backwards as he pays tribute to his illustrious forerunner Corelli, while the Empfindsamkeit of the Affettuoso of the D minor sonata is very much of its time – and throughout the collection there are traces of composer’s fascination for Polish folk music.

Before coming to Sweden, the Italian-born harpsichordist Anna Paradiso knew little about Johan Helmich Roman, often called 'the father of Swedish music'. Here she soon realized that if Roman's music was Swedish, it was also Italian – and specifically Neapolitan: the restlessness of the harmonic idiom, the continuous melodic shifts and the theatrical character. Considering the distance between Stockholm and Naples, this might seem farfetched, but we know that Roman encountered a number of Italian musicians while studying in London 1716-1721, and when in the 1730s he was able take a two-year sabbatical from his post as Kapellmeister at the Royal Court, his goal was Ischia near Naples. Roman's collection of Twelve Keyboard Sonatas was preserved in a manuscript assembled around 1748, but had most likely been composed in the course of the two decades before that. (One movement in Sonata III is labelled 'a Napoli', placing it in the autumn of 1736.) Consisting of between three and seven movements, the pieces have been referred to both as ‘suites’ and ‘sonatas’. Whatever the label, the collection is a fascinating testimony of a period of great stylistic diversity and change, as observed by a composer who, although geographically relegated to the outskirts of Europe, remained wide-open to new developments. In these recordings, Anna Paradiso emphasizes this aspect, performing the sonatas on three different instruments – a French and an Italian harpsichord and a copy of a Swedish clavichord from 1742 – with well-judged ornamentations and use of rubato. A previous release, with the first seven sonatas of the set, was described as ‘exceptional’, by the reviewer on allmusic.com, who went on to hope that ‘the remaining sonatas will be released in short order by Paradiso and BIS.’ That hope is here fulfilled, with the addition of an earlier keyboard sonata by Roman, as well as one by his Swedish contemporary Johan Agrell.

Johan Helmich Roman’s 12 keyboard sonatas, composed c. 1735-37, are veiled in mystery, as it is not known why he wrote them nor what instrument they were intended for. In 1746 he assembled the pieces, each consisting of between three and seven movements, into a single manuscript. They remained unpublished, however, and as Roman did not provide any titles to them, they have since been referred to both as ‘suites’ and ‘sonatas’. Whatever the label, this collection testifies to a period of great stylistic diversity and change, as observed by a composer who remained wide-open to new developments.

Described in Gramophone as ‘one of the most needed and important recording projects in progress today’, this series has up until now featured the clavichord, the tangent piano, and the fortepiano. It is therefore something of an occasion when Miklós Spányi for his Volume 37 chooses to perform on a harpsichord. In doing so he reminds us of C.P.E. Bach’s own advice to keyboard players to have both a clavichord and a harpsichord in order to play ‘all sorts of things alternating’ (‘allerley Sachen abwechselnd’). But the album – which includes some of the composer’s earliest works – also features one of the very few, if not the only, compositions that Bach specifically dedicated to the harpsichord, namely the Sonata per il cembalo a 2 tastature. In it, Bach makes colorful use of the instrument by specifying various detailed and idiosyncratic harpsichord registrations. Spányi also performs two of the few fugues – in F and A major respectively – that Carl Philipp composed: besides the general shift in fashion away from intricate counterpoint to melodic simplicity, it is possible that he found father Johann Sebastian’s achievements in that particular genre too hard an act to follow.

On this amply filled album, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s Clavierstücke verschiedener Art (Keyboard Pieces of various Kinds) is presented in its entirety, with the exception of three songs for voice and keyboard. This collection is the most diverse of Bach’s publications and includes multi-movement genres, a free fantasia, a learned fugue, and various short pieces of varying degrees of difficulty. The variety suggests that Bach did not want for his keyboard music to be strictly divided into ‘light’ and ‘serious’ pieces. But he also wished to demonstrate a wide range of techniques of keyboard composition and performance: orchestral writing in the symphony and the concerto, two-part textures in the sonata, polyphony in the fugue, and free and virtuosic composition in the fantasias and solfeggios. In order to bring a similar variety to his recording of the collection, Miklós Spányi has chosen to perform the pieces on a harpsichord built after the Antwerp maker Joannes Daniel Dulcken. To this double-manual harpsichord offering a wide range of possible registrations, Spányi has added a so-called swell device which facilitates quick dynamic changes. This makes it possible to bring out the contrasts between orchestral and soloistic textures in the Concerto in C major, but also to highlight the different characters in the contrasting pairs of Minuets.

Johann Forkel, the biographer of J.S. Bach, numbered Müthel among the most remarkable of Bach’s pupils. Another of the great chroniclers of 18th century music, Charles Burney, described Müthel's works as 'so full of novelty, taste, grace, and contrivance, that I should not hesitate to rank them among the greatest productions of the present age.’ Nevertheless, today Johann Gottfried Müthel (1728-88) is very far from being a household name – or indeed known at all. One reason for this may be that shortly after his encounter with Bach and an ensuing study tour during which he met other greats of German music – Hasse, C.P.E. Bach and Telemann – Müthel disappeared from the musical centre stage. In 1753 he moved to Riga, the capital of what was then the Province of Livonia, a part of the Russian Empire. There he worked as Kapellmeister at one of the aristocratic households of the city, before becoming organist of St Peter’s Church, a position he probably held until his death. In Müthel's five concertos for keyboard and strings we nevertheless meet a composer very much of his time: the ‘era between eras’ between the Baroque and Viennese Classicism. Although based on the pattern of J.S. Bach's keyboard concertos they are distinctly individual, displaying sophisticated rhythms and harmonic playfulness. Through the alternation of orchestral effects and chamber-music character Müthel achieves an unusual degree of variety, and also includes operatic ingredients, such as the recitativic episodes in the opening movement of Concerto No.5 or the dramatic Adagio middle movement of Concerto No.4. Presenting them on this set of two CDs, the young Polish harpsichordist Marcin ?wi?tkiewicz is also making his début on BIS. He is supported by his compatriots in the acclaimed period band Arte dei Suonatori, who clearly relish the often intricate and always eventful orchestral parts.

This is the first volume in a complete survey of Bach’s harpsichord concertos, recorded by La Risonanza in one-to-a-part practice performance. With his Fifth Brandenburg Concerto, Bach had created the first ever harpsichord concerto. In Leipzig, the opportunity arose to continue this experiment: each week at Café Zimmermann he conducted his Collegium musicum in orchestral concerts that lasted around two hours. In the summer of 1733, he took delivery of “a new harpsichord, the like of which has not been heard before around here.” This magnificent instrument, which featured in the Zimmermann concerts, urgently called for concertos to be played by Bach himself as soloist, and even more so his sons and students. Not only in Saxony but also well beyond, Bach was considered to be the absolute authority on all things harpsichord and organ; he thus had to make his own contribution to the emerging genre of the ‘clavier concerto.’ The manuscript of his six harpsichord concertos should therefore be understood as a repertoire collection for his Collegium musicum, and as a personal manifesto.