In some of the most
straightforward and delightfully unmannered
period instrument performances to cross
my desk in some time, Jacqueline Ross
and company have served up more than
an hour of Bach family gems. These are
certain to please. Although a full disc
of music by the master from Leipzig
would have satisfied any appetite, we
are also given a fine bonus of two sonatas
by the second eldest and most gifted
of the Bach children, Carl Philipp Emanuel.
The bulk of Bach’s
chamber music was composed in Cöthen
while Bach was court composer to Prince
Leopold (1717-23). Early Bach biographer
Johann Forkel recorded in 1802 that
the six extant accompanied violin sonatas,
four with elaborately written out keyboard
parts and two with only figured bass
continuo (which the harpsichordist would
"realize" at sight), were
written during this period. The first
authentic source material, however,
comes from around 1725, some two years
after Bach had taken up residence in
Leipzig. There is ample evidence that
Bach revised the works on more than
one occasion as well. The performance
of BWV 1019 makes use of some of these
revisions. BWV 1024 has long come to
be accepted as authentic, although the
only surviving manuscript is in the
hand of Johann Georg Pisendel, a composer
and violinist from Dresden.
After Bach’s death,
a great deal of his music fell into
obscurity, a travesty that would continue
until well into the nineteenth century
when Felix Mendelssohn would play a
vital role in reviving works by both
Bach and George Frederick Handel. The
sonatas, however, seemed to enjoy a
long life, and C.P.E. Bach continued
to play them and regard them with high
esteem some fifty years after his father’s
death.
And what of the music
of the son? No small player in his own
right, C.P.E. Bach was to have a major
influence on the style of his day, and
was highly respected by no less figures
than Haydn and Mozart. The influence
of his father is evident in the structure
of the two sonatas presented here, and
he seems to have inherited the gift
of melody from his famous progenitor.
Influence aside, the younger composer’s
works are indeed his own, and the later
sonata is a fine example of the empfindsamer
Stil, in which the listener’s emotions
were to be touched by the intimate and
subjective forms of melodic expression.
These are elegant and
thoughtful performances, which, as I
mentioned in the introductory paragraph,
are thankfully devoid of the often-pretentious
affectations and mannerisms of much
period instrument playing. Ms. Ross
plays her rare Amati violin with a rich
and warm tone, and she has an excellent
sense of rhythm and line. Messrs. Ponsford
and Boothby provide fine accompaniment,
and their ensemble is tight and appropriately
balanced. Most delightful is the consistently
"right" choice of tempi. One
never feels that the music is being
pushed outside its natural bounds, and
there is verve and excitement without
a hint of the breathless quality of
many baroque performances.
Production values,
at least for the recording itself, are
above reproach. The booklet leaves something
to be desired, as it is marred by the
absence of the younger Bach’s name and
works on the front cover (come on, he’s
hardly an ‘also-ran’). The cover also
touts three "first recordings,"
then promptly fails to inform us poor
readers as to which ones they are. Ahem.
Have I ever mentioned in these pages
that sloppy program books are amongst
my biggest peeves? Notes by Robin Stowell
are concise and informative.
A highly recommended
release.
Kevin Sutton