J.S. Bach: Organ Chorales, Preludes and Fugues & Fantasias

Bach: Overtures (Suites) Nos. 1-4

Bach: Partitas Nos. 5-6, Bwv 829-830

C. P. E. Bach was a chamber musician at the court of Frederick the Great for nearly three decades. He was also one of the greatest keyboard players in Europe. His compositional mastery is exemplified by the six 'Prussian' Sonatas of 1742, works of great expression and stylistic interest. His desire to explore 'musical speech' was accompanied by bold contrasts, tremendous dynamism, and acute sensitivity for the shaping of slow movements. These reveal his inventive, forward thinking harmonies that both acknowledge the past but also strike out in vivid new directions. Susan Alexander, Max is recognized internationally as a leading forte pianist and clavichordist specializing in the music of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. A featured performer on international radio and television, she is known to festivals, museums, universities and music colleges world wide.

BACH, J.S.: Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, BWV 1004-1

Though the origin of Bach's sonatas for flute and harpsichord is uncertain there has also been considerable debate about their genre. The first three are often called "Sonaten auf Concertenart" - sonatas in concerto style - a hybrid genre that became popular between 1720 and 1740, so Bach may have been deliberately experimenting with form in these works. The Sonata in E-Flat Major, BWV 1031, with its lovely Siciliano, is perhaps the most popular of the flute sonatas, holding a special place in the repertory, but all offer a fascinating insight into Bach's use of the sonata genre and a wealth of inventive music.

There are remarkably few differences, almost none of substance, between the performances on two recently released recordings--this one and another with Micaela Comberti and Colin Tilney on Dorian--of Bach's Six Sonatas for Violin and Harpsichord. (For comments on a third recent set, from Rachel Podger and Trevor Pinnock on Channel Classics, see reviews.) Even the first movement of the first sonata is exactly the same timing for both. Yes, Lucy van Dael's violin, at least in this sonic environment, has a somewhat richer, more resonant lower register (both instruments share the same bright timbre in their upper range), and Bob van Asperen's harpsichord is a bit rounder and warmer of tone than Tilney's. And in general, Comberti and Tilney's tempos are slower, which perhaps gives the impression of a sharper, more deliberate articulation from Tilney's harpsichord. Van Asperen's instrument is recorded slightly more distant than Tilney's, giving more prominence to van Dael's violin, which seems to go counter to Bach's intentions--these in fact are not solo sonatas per se, but trio sonatas in which the upper line of the harpsichord performs in duet with the violin, accompanied by the keyboard's bass line.


Comberti's fast movements at times sound too careful, while van Dael's have an air of frenzy about them that can produce sheer excitement (the Allegro of Sonata No. 2; the two Allegros in No. 4) or nervousness (the final movement of the first sonata), sensations that of course also will vary from listener to listener. There are exceptions: van Dael's slower Adagio in the E major sonata is exquisitely expressed, a lovely rendition of one of Bach's finest "arias", and her dashing final Allegro caps one of the set's highlights. The darker hues of van Dael's violin come into play most prominently in the C minor sonata's slow movements--the sumptuous opening Largo, whose gorgeous melody is the ancestor of "Erbarme dich" from Bach's St. Matthew Passion, and in the viola-like register of the Adagio. In contrast, Comberti's faster Largo sounds less like a song and the harpsichord's undulating figures are more noticeable, almost as if the players were consciously working to obliterate any associations with the melody's more famous religious context (there are hints of this in Tilney's detailed liner notes). Even so, Comberti and Tilney's slightly more leisurely Adagio in the same sonata is very effective, especially the rich violin tone, and here you particularly notice and appreciate the benefits to the overall sonority allowed by the Dorian recording's more even balance. Again, however, the more drawn-out final Allegro sounds merely workmanlike in comparison to van Dael's justly spirited rendition.


Two problems are solved in two different ways by the producers of each recording. First, the Sonata No. 6 went through several changes during Bach's lifetime and therefore the question arises as to how to treat the several existing alternative movements. Comberti and Tilney play the generally accepted five-movement version and add the "Cantabile" movement at the end of the disc as a separate track. Van Dael and van Asperen do the same, except that, in the interest of completeness and to fill out the disc's timing, they add three other alternative movements not found on the Dorian disc. Which brings us to the question of timing: the six sonatas are too long for one disc, too short for two. Dorian adds two "rarely played" harpsichord suites while Naxos chooses to skimp a little on the second disc's timing, which even with the added Sonata No. 6 movements comes to only 49:14. However, at Naxos' budget price, this shouldn't present a major concern even for those time-equals-value CD buyers--less is certainly not less in this case.


Needless to say, it's tough to choose a clear winner here--as so often happens, it's more a matter of personal preference, particularly regarding the instrumental balances. Both performances are top notch, cleanly and clearly articulated and characterized by an almost uncannily similar interpretive manner. I tend to prefer van Dael's singing style and richly colored instrument in the slow movements, but I also find Comberti and Tilney's equally weighted interaction provides a powerful richness to the textures that perhaps lends more legitimacy to their interpretation. Anyone for both? [Editor's note: the complete set of six sonatas on either Naxos or Dorian must be purchased in two separate volumes. The above review applies to the complete set although only volume 1 is indicated in the review heading.]
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Johann Sebastian Bach’s St. John Passion is, along with the St. Matthew Passion, without doubt one of the most important works he ever composed. It established a new tradition for Good Friday vespers in Leipzig, and with sublime skill Bach managed to retain a spirit of church worship while creating an almost operatic narrative that movingly depicts Christ’s trial, death, and ultimate apotheosis. Bach’s numerous revisions always demand a certain amount of scholarly decision-making, and this recording of the St. John Passion uses the final 1749 version that not only draws on and reinforces the best of Bach’s original concept, but incorporates the additional movements of the 1725 version.

J.S. Bach: St. John Passion

Bach: St. Matthew Passion (Highlights)

For his recording of Bach's The Art of Fugue, harpsichordist Sébastien Guillot includes the composer's early autograph versions. Although Bach's more familiar revisions generally were for the better, his first thoughts make for fascinating comparison. Contrapunctus 1's first version contains alternate note readings and lacks the gorgeous coda Bach added as an inspired afterthought. If the piece often referred to as Contrapunctus 10 sounds as if it starts mid-stream, so to speak, that's because we're used to the 22 sublime bars Bach subsequently tacked on to the beginning. The early version of the canon in augmentation and inversion is fascinatingly florid, but without the revision's extraordinary chromatic tension and melodic humor that Guillot brilliantly conveys. Other differences involve ornamental more than compositional refinements.

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 Art of Fugue • Sergio Vartolo (hpd); Maddalena Vartolo (hpd) • NAXOS 8.570577 (2 CDs: 102: 13)


Some recordings deserve high praise, some deserve faint praise, and some earn their fair share of ridicule. Then there is the category of those that earn your respect over time, if you have the stamina to hang in. Bach’s The Art of Fugue , BWV 1080, usually considered an intellectually “dry” work, as played on the harpsichord by Sergio Vartolo (with Maddalena Vartolo on the final two pieces for two harpsichords), won me over after a struggle. The first time through, I experienced a rash of negative judgments: the tempo was too slow, the beat was too regular, the dynamic range was too narrow (only from p to f , while the piano could cover from ppp to fff ), the soloist is an academic (and you know how they are), and there was no exhilaration by acceleration. Everything was too risk free, too free of passion. I was under the spell of the modern piano readings of Bach’s music. But after putting these discs aside for about a week, I asked myself: “If the disc is all that, why did Naxos offer it?” I concluded that I must not have been listening with both frontal lobes of my brain operating. Or, maybe the first time through I’d put too much Kirsch in the fondue for lunch, and it affected my judgment. In any event, I didn’t “get it.”


So I listened to all 102:13 of it, again. This time I realized what I’d forgotten in my prejudice. Of course, the harpsichord had a limited dynamic range with each string being plucked by a leather plectrum under uniform pressure each time its keyboard note was struck (no matter how heartily or delicately). That is one of the limiting factors of its design, which became an incentive in the development of the forte piano. As for the tempo and the rhythm, I realized these were likely a secondary concern to Bach, a champion of well-tempered tuning, in these contrapuntal but equally harmonic exercises. The metronome had not yet been developed, so there couldn’t have been exact instructions from the composer as would become the later practice. There were likely “conventions,” probably issued verbally on the signature score, as to the approximate tempo the composer recommended for each section.


In my bifurcated Oblomovian mind, I decided to concede the tempo to the performer, especially as Vartolo is a highly prolific recording artist, a regular medal winner, as well as a professor at the Accademia Filarmonica of Bologna, where, in 1770, a new member—W. A. Mozart—was installed. I reasoned if there were existing instructions from Bach, or conventions that were observed concerning tempo, rubato, syncopation, etc., Vartolo (as scholar) would know them. And this time I enjoyed my listening much more. But I still wasn’t sold.


During my third trip through the Art of Fugue with Vartolo, I got so into the music I could forget about dynamic range and tempo and appreciate the gorgeous sound of the harpsichord, the skill of the Naxos recording engineers, as well as the spellbinding quality of Vartolo’s playing. I’ve taken to putting it in my CD player first thing in the morning, and (setting it on automatic repeat) letting it play all day while I am at my computer. The presentation of the music is so inevitable, the playing and recording so clean, that I’ve come to hear the clarity of the argument for original instruments, something I had thought too doctrinaire. Certainly, this music—when played on a modern piano, even by soloists who loved Bach (like Glenn Gould)—takes on a quite different mode of presentation. But I can hear the case for equally expert playing on the harpsichord.


In conclusion, I’m not too proud to climb down off my high horse and recommend this two-CD set. It has won me over by overcoming my knee-jerk reactions. If you are interested in Bach, or the fugue, or the harpsichord, or the body of work known as The Art of Fugue , I recommend this recording with high praise. Both the playing and the recording are damn fine. The lesson I’ve learned here, and hope to share with you is that in judging music, it seems best to admit your prejudices to yourself. If you can keep aware of your own preferences, education, music you exclude on specious grounds, you might discover the value of music that is new to you. As I have. Music loving ought to be inclusive. It depends on how you do it. I recommend that you Zen yourself out with Vartolo’s The Art of Fugue during a rainy weekend. You could be pleasantly surprised! And for you harpsichord players out there, you already knew all this. But isn’t it cool to see it in print?


FANFARE: Ilya Oblomov

Selections recorded in August 1988, April and December 1992, June 1993, January 1994, and April 1995.

J.S. Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1

When Luc Beauséjour recorded Book I of the Well-Tempered Clavier [8.557625–26] he was hailed by International Piano for ‘his instinct for discovering exactly the right tempo; his playing is so natural’. He turns now to Book II of the Preludes and Fugues in all twenty-four keys, assembled for publication in 1742. A number of the pieces survive in earlier versions from previous decades, which Bach revised or transposed. Together with Book I, this constitutes one of the pinnacles of Western music.

The three cello concertos on this disc illustrate that fertile period in the second half of the 18th century when features of the Baroque were gradually replaced by the so-called galant style. Foremost amongst the composers inaugurating this change was Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach chose Concerto in A major is a perfect example of the passionate and dramatic range that marked him out as a pivotal figure of his time. Haydn’s Concerto in C major modulates between older and newer styles, whereas his Concerto in D major is a Classical masterpiece, and a worthy companion to his greatest symphonies. For this recording Brantelid plays on an Emil Hjort, Copenhagen 1887 with gut strings.

BACH, J.S.: Toccatas, BWV 910-916

It was Francisco Tárrega, composer and guitarist, who first transcribed Bach’s music for his own instrument, offering colour, tonal variety and clarity in an exploration of counterpoint. Tristan Manoukian’s transcription of the Partita No. 2 honours the precedent in its virtuosic and expressive writing. It is possible that the Suite and the Prelude, Fugue and Allegro were originally conceived for the so-called “lute-harpsichord”, a keyboard strung with gut that sounded like a lute. Bach’s version of Vivaldi’s Violin Concerto transforms and refashions it, and the guitar transcription is perfectly suited to convey the richness of its invention. Prizewinning guitarist Judicaël Perroy is one of the most exciting talents to have emerged in years.

Classical Music

Award-winning and much decorated composer Claude Baker here entwines his evocative soundworld with the powerful imagery of two great poets. Recorded in its premiere performance with Marc-Andre Hamelin as soloist, the Piano Concerto ‘From Noon to Starry Night’ draws on and amplifies the structures and meanings of five poems by Walt Whitman, expressing the heroism and darkness of war, exuberant celebrations of nature and a wistful ‘remembrance of things past.’ Aus Schwanengesang is a memorial piece that expands and ‘re-composes’ the poignant Heine Lieder from Schubert’s song cycle with oblique and multi-layered references.

Leonardo Balada, the Catalan composer who went to New York in 1956 to study composition, has been a powerful creative force for more than three decades. These accessible and stimulating pieces span the composer' career.

BALADA: Hangman! Hangman! / The Town of Greed

A strong opponent of oppression in all it's forms, Leonardo Balada met Martin Luther King in 1967. His Sinfonia en Negro is a powerful response to King's subsequent murder as well as a description of the black people's journey in the Americas from slavery to freedom. Both the Sinfonia and the virtuoso Double Concerto use Balada's pioneering blend of ethnic music with avant-garde techniques, while Columbus: Images for Orchestra is a free adaptation of four contrasting scenes from his acclaimed opera Christopher Columbus (8.660237-38). in 2007 Leonardo Balada won an Award in Music from the American Academy of Arts and Letters that helped make this recording possible.

Barcelona native Leonardo Balada’s creative style has been labelled ‘Dalí’s surrealism in music’ – an aspect of his work explored in this programme through the technique of ‘sound transformation’ in which abstract musical materials become familiar melody. Fusing traditional and contemporary elements, Caprichos Nos. 6 and 7 engage intimately with Spanish culture and history, while the virtuoso Double Concerto, heard here in an arrangement for flute, clarinet and piano, blends well-known Mexican folk tunes with the composer’s distinctive avant-garde style. The Naxos label has been releasing recordings of the music of Leonardo Balada for many years now, and his profile has achieved a level at which each new disc is greeted with much interest and healthy sales figures in the contemporary music genre. This particular recording also promises wider circulation in being related to Ivan Ivanov’s book Leonardo Balada and Surrealism in Music to be published by Routledge. This is aimed towards teaching surrealism in Universities as well as being of interest to wider audiences. The new release will be used as an example on the music analyzed in the book, but will also be attractive worldwide because of the international status of surrealism in art.

An enterprising and convincing set of performances; Naxos rescues another neglected composer.

I was somewhat lukewarm about Elizabeth Farr’s recording of the Bach solo harpsichord concertos (Naxos 8.572006-7), largely because I found the use of the 16' stop on her Keith Hill harpsichord obtrusive. I ended that review by fearing that there would be an even greater problem with the use of such an instrument on this Balbastre recording, since, by Hill’s own admission “no French harpsichords with 16' stops remain from [this] time.”

Since writing that review, I have read another review of the Bach which doesn’t even mention the offending stop, so, clearly, not everyone is going to be troubled by it. Paradoxically, too, though I dislike its use in Bach, where there is some historical evidence to support its use, I was less unhappy to hear it employed for Balbastre, where the evidence is non-existent. De gustibus non est disputandum.

We aren’t exactly well off for recordings of Balbastre: there seems currently to be only one other recording completely dedicated to his music, a 2-CD set of what Glossa call his ‘Salon Music’, another recital of his keyboard music by Mitzi Meyerson (fortepiano and harpsichord, GCD921803), on which much of the music, including the Marche des Marseillois et Ça-ira from Elizabeth Farr’s recording, are duplicated. Otherwise, we have just odd pieces by him on collections, especially on anthologies of that French Christmas phenomenon the instrumental Noël.

Naxos have on their website an interview with Elizabeth Farr, headed ‘My passion is my profession’, in which she speaks of her marvel at the creativity and individuality of the music of the eighteenth century. I’m not sure that I find Balbastre’s music quite as individual as that – perhaps you have to know it as thoroughly as Farr clearly does to distinguish it from that of Rameau or François Couperin – but her performances certainly make a strong case for its inventiveness and attractiveness. The interview was conducted before she set down the recent Bach recording and this of Balbastre, but her love of his music and her understanding of it are apparent from the CDs.

I queried some of Farr’s tempi on the Bach CDs: by comparison with Robert Woolley on Hyperion, some of them sound rather erratic. I wonder if I would have been as critical if I had not had Woolley’s recordings of some of those works for comparison, though I note that the reviewer who seemed untroubled by the use of 16' tone also referred to the problematic tempi.

Not having heard any rival recordings of any significant portion of Balbastre’s repertoire, I can’t make comparisons as I did with Bach. I can only say that I found the playing here much more convincing than I did before. I do just note en passant, however, that Farr’s timings seem to differ from Meyerson’s, sometimes considerably slower, sometimes faster. The brief excerpts which are all that I have been able to hear from those Glossa CDs serve as a reminder that Meyerson alternates between the fortepiano and the harpsichord, which you may find makes for more variety; equally, you may be irritated by repeated change from one instrument to the other. Also, Farr plays the pieces in the order in which they appear in print; Meyerson rearranges them.

Two CDs of this repertoire may look like a case of over-egging the pudding, but I didn’t find it so. If you like the keyboard music of Rameau and Couperin, you should find these CDs to your liking. Indeed, the concluding tracks of CD1 (trs.13-16) offer music from Rameau’s 1748 opera Pygmalion, arranged by Balbastre for the keyboard. Such arrangements, like the wind-band conflations of Mozart’s operas, served as souvenirs for those who had heard the original and as tasters for those who had not. This is some of the most dramatic music on the CDs; the tone of the Overture is particularly well caught here.

Most of the rest of the music is as benign and affable as Balbastre’s second name would imply. I don’t wish to imply, however, that it sounds derivative or banal; as the notes point out, the French harpsichord tradition is modified by the influence of Scarlatti.

The pieces from Book I of the Pièces de clavecin are character portraits. The whole book is dedicated to his pupil Mme de la Caze and her portrait opens the collection and the first of these CDs. It’s a strong piece, though with moments of tenderness, and the contrast between it and its successor on track 2, la d’Héricourt, is well brought out by Farr. Indeed, such variety as there is in the music – probably more apparent to contemporaries than to modern listeners – is well conveyed in these performances.

The last of the aristocratic portraits here is la d’Esclignac of 1787 (CD1, tr.12). The revolution two years later put paid to Balbastre’s employment as a composer of salon pieces; he was to die in poverty ten years later. The final work on the second CD (tr.16) represents his attempt to come to terms with the new régime, a set of variations of the revolutionary tunes la Marseillaise and Ça ira (we will succeed). As played here, it makes a fine conclusion to a recommendable set; I was very happy to pardon the liberty which Elizabeth Farr admits in the notes of repeating la Marseillaise at the end. Meyerson plays the piece as written, which is less dramatic, though you may think her use here of the newer instrument, the fortepiano, more appropriate for music written after the demise of the ancien régime.

The Naxos recording is a little close for my liking, but it captures the big sound of the instrument well – at times in that final Marche the bass sonorities almost sound like those of a grand piano. The documentation is informative and readable and sets the seal on a recommendable pair of CDs.

-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International

Composer Michael William Balfe composed 29 operas, and around 250 other pieces. He is best known for his opera The Bohemian Girl. Balfe’s opera Satanella was his 23rd opera, and was premiered at Covent Garden in 1858. The work is a hybrid of classical opera tradition and stand-alone songs. This release is performed by the John Powell Singers and the Victorian Opera Orchestra under the direction of Richard Bonynge.

Review:

Bonynge is unsurpassed in this repertoire; he keeps it zipping buoyantly along, effortlessly supporting his singers and clearly relishing every baleful horn call, rippling harp and languishing cello solo. His cast, too, feels near-ideal. The young Chinese-born tenor Kang Wang is a Rupert of considerable dash, and Sally Silver sings the title-role…with sweetness and sparkle.

– Gramophone

The area in southeast Europe known as the Balkans has long established folk traditions rich in complex rhythms and evocative melodies. Innovative guitarist Mak Grgic has selected the music of five composers to explore the variety and piquant colors embedded in their compositions. Drawn from his evolving suite called laments, Dances and Lullabies, Miroslav Tadic traces Macedonian folk songs, while each of the other composers brings very personal qualities. Vivid harmonies, vivacious interludes, syncopated rhythms, and a lively, jazz-like feel all combine to create a tapestry of moods and textures. Lauded by The New York Times and The Washington Post, Mak Grgic is emerging as a highly esteemed performer on the international stage. An expansive and adventurous repertoire attests to his versatility and wide-ranging interests, ranging from Baroque and Renaissance to music of the cinema and from ethnic music of his native Balkans to extreme avant-garde and microtonal music.

Learn more about this recording on the Naxos Classical Spotlight podcast!

Louis Wayne Ballard was the first indigenous North American composer of art music and a highly respected authority on his culture’s musical heritage. Conductor John Jeter and the Forth Smith Symphony continue their Naxos journey of rediscovering neglected American composers in a program of world premiere recordings.

REVIEW:

The conductor John Jeter could be categorized as an angelic force for overlooked American music. Here, he and his Fort Smith Symphony are back for an invaluable hour in the company of the Native American composer Louis Wayne Ballard, whose music has yet to receive substantial interest from record labels.

The first three movements from “Scenes From Indian Life,” written in 1963, have an unassuming playfulness. (The fourth movement, appended in 1994, takes on a graver cast.) But the longer pieces are even more impressive. Selections from Ballard’s ballet “The Four Moons” could pair well with Bernstein’s “Fancy Free” suite. The tone-poem writing of Ballard’s Fantasy Aborigine No. 3, “Kokopelli” could lend an American air to an orchestral program featuring music by Strauss.

The singing wind, brass, and string lines threaded throughout his “Devil’s Promenande” are captivating, too. While the playing here is persuasive as per usual, I also came away from this album hoping to hear Ballard’s music taken up by orchestras far and wide.

-- New York Times (Seth Colter Walls)

Famous for his role as the keyboard player in rock band Genesis and as a solo artist, Tony Banks was always fascinated by the idea of writing orchestral music. His success incomposing for films led to the acclaimed Seven - A Suite for Orchestra. The intense orchestral sound pictures in Seven, Six and Five rank among some of Banks's most accomplished works, marrying experimentation with form and structure, and a trademark melodic character which powerfully conveys both melancholy and joy. Originally released on individual discs as 8.57414, 8.572986, 8.557466

Tony Banks, the renowned founder member and keyboard maven of the rock band Genesis, continues his acclaimed series of orchestral compositions with Five. The suite opens with Prelude to a Million Years, originally commissioned for and performed at the Cheltenham Music Festival. Banks’ signature melodic gifts and feel for cinematic scale are all in evidence in Five, just as they were in Six (8.572986) and Seven (8.557466), ‘a work of stirring beauty’ (ProgSheet). First released by BMG Records in February 2018, Naxos is proud to present this recording which is described by Stage and Cinema as 'gorgeous, transporting music sounds exactly like a soaring soundtrack'. CrypticRock gave this recording 5 out of 5 stars: ‘Five is therefore no different from what one would expect from this artist: stunning, evocative, beautifully-orchestrated, and timeless. With five marvelous pieces of brilliance, Five is a shining gem of sonic beauty that is truly deserving of your attention and a round of emphatic applause.’

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REVIEW:

If you enjoy wide-screen film music then you will most certainly want this disc, which is sumptuous in sound and extended in dynamic impact.

– David's Review Corner (David Denton)