I greatly enjoyed listening to Barenboim’s
recording of Book I, recorded exactly
a year before he returned to perform
Book II: review
. However, while that performance sounded
beautiful, I felt that, at times, the
wonderful complexity and variety of
moods that can be found in those pieces
was ironed out, in favour of a more
unified and consistent tone across the
entire work.
So how does this new
recording fare? Overall, I find it an
even more convincing demonstration of
how Bach’s astonishing music can benefit
from the sonority of the modern piano.
Barenboim is not afraid to use the pedals,
and to blur the different strands of
the polyphonic texture – in this way,
perhaps his approach can be seen as
commercial rather than academic
– in other words, the performance is
very much aimed at the listener rather
than the musician. The latter may well
complain that the performance is much
more Barenboim than Bach, that Bach
takes a lot of work to be truly appreciated,
and that Barenboim is only providing
surface details rather than genuine
insight and depth. But spend time with
this recording and it will become clear
that he shows great insight, and that
some of the preludes in particular surpass
any that I have heard on piano (including
the celebrated recordings of Fischer,
Gould, Tureck, Richter, and Hewitt).
Take, for example,
the conversational interplay of lines
in the prelude in C minor, the tiny
extended pauses that draw the listener
in. I am convinced that his dalliance
with jazz has provided an enhanced feel
for the importance of the space between
the notes – he really allows the music
to breathe. The prelude in C
sharp minor, is spellbinding, but in
contrast, the fugue sounds too measured,
almost harsh (a similar approach is
employed to much better effect in the
fugue in E minor (CD 2)).
In Barenboim’s hands,
the prelude in C sharp minor is almost
overwhelmingly beautiful, although,
towards the end, the tempo is slowed
to the extent that the music loses its
structure and shape. In the companion
fugue, however, the music sounds, dare
I say it, rather dull. Indeed, he is
least successful in the fugues taken
at speed – the impression being that
he is simply less interested in these
pieces (this is something that he shares
with Richter). He is, however, redeemed
in the following prelude (D major),
which is magnificent, and the fugue
serene and laden with melancholia.
Occasionally (as was
also the case in Book I), Barenboim
falls foul of directing our attention
rather too much to what he identifies
as foreground and background in the
music. Listen, for example, to the fugues
in E flat major and D sharp minor –
the music sounds less interesting than
it should, because the complex harmonic
structure is buried in the background.
In contrast, the prelude in D sharp
minor could not be more different –
wonderful, lively and wholly involving.
Highlights on CD 2
include the preludes in F major and
F sharp minor and the prelude and fugue
in F minor, all of which are beautifully
phrased. However, perhaps the finest
coupling of all is the prelude and fugue
in F sharp minor, both of which are
marked by an astonishing display of
controlled but expressive playing, in
which the genius of Bach’s writing shines
through.
During the time I have
spent with this performance, the distinct
feeling has emerged that, overall, Barenboim
is more successful in the preludes than
the fugues. The preludes, surely more
immediately accessible than the fugues,
lend themselves particularly well to
his inclination to present us with foreground
(i.e., perceived melody) and background
(or ‘harmony’). The fugues, on the other
hand, to be successful, require all
voices to be heard in both their horizontal
independence and vertical unification.
That all the lines are clearly articulated
is surely central to the very purpose
of a fugue, and if they are not separable
to the listener, the immense satisfaction
in hearing a Bach fugue is lessened.
That said, a number of the fugues are
played wonderfully well. Take, for example,
those in G minor and A flat major. The
first is played in a staccato, jabbing
manner while the second is soft and
dream-like – but both are very effective.
Of the remaining pieces
on CD 3, the A minor coupling is one
of the most successful couplings, full
of insight and energy. The final prelude
(B minor) is a personal favourite, beautiful,
playful and quiet. The fugue is also
tremendous, rounding off an occasionally
disappointing but largely wonderful,
expressive and involving set.
Peter Bright