For the first half
of his career Couperin had composed
entirely either church music or Ordres
for solo harpsichord. But in 1722 he
became ‘Compositeur ordinaire pour le
musique de chamber du roy’, producing
music for the King Louis XV’s Sunday
afternoon ‘events’. So Couperin’s focus
changed for most of the rest of his
life; hence this seven volume box of
his chamber music. But what music, and
how momentous, individual and ground-breaking
these works were to become and how fascinating
it is to see his style flower and develop,
in the all too brief period from 1724-30.
This was at the time when had to retire.
If Couperin were still
alive he would, I think, be an avid
supporter of the EU as in so many of
his works he is either attempting to
pay homage to the music of other countries
like Spain (as in ‘Les Nations’ Suite
No. 2). You also find him attempting
to combine the French and Italian styles
as exemplified in his two revered masters
Lully and Corelli, exulting in their
differences and revelling in their combination.
Nowhere is this more pronounced than
in the rightly famous and oft-recorded
‘L’Apothéose de Corelli’ and
the even more extraordinary ‘L’Apotheose
de Lully’. In this latter piece the
two composers meet on Mount Parnassus,
they are encouraged by the Muses and
then make music together. These pieces,
for the whole ‘band’ of eleven instrumentalists,
take up volume 6 of the seven discs
in the box and form the set’s climax.
We are told in the
interesting, but all too brief for such
an extensive set, programme notes by
Jed Wentz himself that "Couperin
gives few indications for the instrumentation
of his chamber works". He goes
on to explain that he bases his orchestration,
as it were "on Charpentier’s ‘Sonata
for 2 flutes, allemandes, 2 high violins,
bass viol, theorbo’ etc". Anyway
on the whole this works very well, especially
in ‘Les Nations’.
The ‘Concert Royaux’
is Couperin’s first published chamber
music (1722). The four suites each have
between five and seven brief dance movements,
some French, some Italian, some German
as was Couperin’s ‘raison d’etre’. Wentz
chooses for the first, third and fourth
to either mix or contrast the four players
on the CD, himself on the traverso flute,
Ayako Matsunga on the baroque violin,
Job ter Haar on the five string gamba
and Michael Borgsted on the harpsichord.
All is very effective, but for the third
suite it’s as if, bizarrely, some of
the musicians went to lunch early. In
the first movement, the usual opening
prelude is for all four players but
the next, an Allemande, is given just
to solo harpsichord as also is the following
Courante. Next comes a Sarabande marked
‘grave’ which is played here by traverso
flute and harpsichord with the flute
badly balanced and the tempo too fast,
I feel. The comes a Gavotte for solo
harpsichord and then a simple, folksy
and lovely Musette for harpsichord and
gamba. The suite ends with a Chaconne
for harpsichord alone. This is a particular
pity as this piece includes some nice
echo effects. Now we know that Rameau,
a few years later, ‘orchestrated’ earlier
Clavicin pieces in his ‘Pièces
de clavecin en concerts’ but would never
have mixed instrumental and solo harpsichord
pieces in the same suite. So why is
it done by Wentz for just this ‘Concert’?
Incidentally I can’t say that I go much
on the harpsichord used here (by Titus
Crijnen); it sounds far too brittle
and also too heavy although this is
less noticeable on the other CDs. Of
course it may be the recording. Church
recordings for Chamber music can often
be rather suspect but generally I think
the acoustic at Maria Minor Church is
helpful and pleasing so it must be the
instrument.
Volume 2 consists of
‘Les Nations’ and from this point on
the performances become fairly standard
and conform to our expectations. Indeed
they exceed them as from Volume 3 onwards
I was awarded complete and consistent
pleasure by the playing and the general
level of musical and scholastic approach.
That said, I feel that movements marked
‘tendre’ or ‘gravement’ etc are often
played too quickly and sometimes rather
insensitively.
By the time we reach
volume 4 we arrive at Couperin’s next
published chamber work (1724). The first
item is the fifth suite and now Couperin
uses the title ‘Les Goûts-réunis’
(‘Goûts’ can be happily translated
as ‘tasteful’) and he writes nine suites
or ‘concerts’. These are sonatas with
continuo and they are played here by
flute (suites 5 and 7) and oboe (suite
6) with the eighth suite consisting
of ten short movements divided between
the two instruments. These suites consist
of French dances like the Sarabande,
German ones including a rather testy
Fugue in the 7th suite and
Italian ones like a Sicilienne, also
in suite 7.
CD5 has the remaining
six ‘concerts’ and are neatly divided
with the traverse flute taking on the
10th and 14th
concerts, the baroque violin, the 9th
and 11th. The 12th is played,
entertainingly by just the five-stringed
cello and the gamba and even better
the 13th by the bassoon and
the gamba. So there is considerable
variety enabling continuous listening
if that seems desirable.
Some highlights of
the set as a whole for me are; ‘Les
Nations’ (published in 1726) the ‘Second
Ordre’ entitled ‘L’Espagnole’ listen
especially for the delicious ‘affectueusement’
(movement 3) the earthy ‘vivrement et
marqué’ (movement 7) and the
impressive final ‘Passacaille nobilement’.
Also memorable is the entire ‘ordre’
number 4 ‘La Piémontoise’ which
in its sequence of fourteen brief dances
is an even stronger reminder of the
Opera-Ballets of Lully than other sets,
although the performers remind us, especially
by the subtle rallentandos at the end
of phrases that this is music not for
dancing but for listening. Finally the
last disc ends with the wonderful ‘Le
rossignol en amour’ played here by Jed
Wentz, unaccompanied on the transverse
flute. This piece was also presented
by Couperin for keyboard in his ‘Pièces
de Clavecin’ collection of 1722 (Book
3) but here makes a gentle and unassuming
end to the entire enterprise.
The instruments used
are in some cases made ‘after’ the great
makers of the time but others like the
baroque archlute played by Michiel Niessen
is an authentic 17th Century
Italian instrument. Whatever their antecedents
their combination mostly works very
pleasingly.
The recordings, with
the few exceptions mentioned above,
are clear and beautifully focused.
Gary Higginson