The name Johann Adolf Hasse is by no means unknown these days, though his
keyboard works have yet to become what you might call core repertoire. The
Accent label has a fairly recent release (
review) with Luca Guglielmo which was warmly welcomed
by Johan van Veen, but search online and you are more likely to find sheet
music than recordings of sonatas by Hasse. Bacchetti has beaten unusual
paths with his work on the sonatas of Cherubini and Galuppi (
review) and more particularly with those of
Marcello (
review) and Scarlatti and Soler (
review). For these he didn’t settle for known
repertoire but delved into libraries and archives to find new works. The
same is true for these pieces by Hasse, and all references and sources for
these Italian manuscripts are given in the booklet. These are all première
recordings other than the two last pieces from the
Sei sonate. Even
here we are told that these are first recordings on a modern piano. The
titles reproduced above appear as such since Hasse also referred to himself
as “the Saxon” or “il Sassone”, a detail cleared up at the start of the
booklet essay by Raffaele Mellace. It's a reference that derives from
Hasse’s German origins rather than from his employment at the Saxon Court in
Dresden.
Having a disc full of premières can make a nice change for a reviewer.
While I very much enjoy getting stuck into a pile of comparisons it is
refreshing just to be able to report on pioneering content and innate
quality. Andrea Bacchetti’s accustomed home for recordings, the Fazioli
Concert Hall is a touch on the dry side, though this balance suits the
intimacy and simplicity of Hasse’s music where a grand cavernous space would
not. Bacchetti’s style for these pieces follows his approach with the other
recordings mentioned. He resists giving the music romantic rubati, adds no
extra pianistic octaves and refuses to lard the notes with elaborate
ornamentation, though there is flexibility in the shaping of phrases and a
few witty inflections. Disarming directness is the key here, with the energy
seeming to emerge from the notes rather than the player. The programming is
usefully varied, with the upward motion of the
Fuga per organo an
extra lift between already good-humoured sonatas in major keys. The slow
movements are jewels of almost naïve beauty, such as the
Largo from
the
Sonata per cembalo, and the
Andante from
A
favourite Concerto which is drawn out to 8:37 but still manages to
sound elegant and natural.
As ever there are more ways to skin this particular kind of cat, and an
argument can be made for a little more sprightliness in Bacchetti’s
performances. He brings this music to life in an atmosphere of pearlescent
beauty, but as Luca Guglielmo’s Accent recording on the harpsichord shows,
there is a potential for fireworks as well as for reflective charm. Not
everything is slow here by any means, and the
Allegro assai of the
Sonata No. IV has plenty of drive. Refinement and poise are however
the watchwords here, and if you are intrigued to hear life breathed into
newly unearthed works by a less well-known composer who was amongst the most
popular in his day then this is a treasure worth discovering.
Dominy Clements
