Cherubini is not known for keyboard music, and, indeed, 
          wrote very little of it. The six sonatas for keyboard were composed 
          while Cherubini was living in Milan in 1780, studying with Giuseppe 
          Sarti, the Maestro di Cappella at Milan Cathedral. They were published 
          in Florence three years later and remained his only keyboard music to 
          go to press. The sonatas are therefore early works, very much in the 
          ‘Classical’ style and all consist of only two movements and all are 
          in major keys. While the sonatas display a gift for melodic construction, 
          there is an undeniable variation in the intellectual quality of the 
          works. Movements consisting of toccata-like passage-work of great virtuosity 
          and expressive freedom are juxtaposed with academic passages of little 
          originality or imagination. There are many examples of the former in 
          the first movements of these sonatas, some of which show an indebtedness 
          to the contrapuntal style of J S Bach and demand considerable dexterity 
          from the performer. The first movement of the sixth sonata is an interesting 
          example. It is through composed (i.e. it does not have the bipartite 
          structure with each section repeated that is common to all the other 
          first movements) and at over nine minutes long, shows Cherubini’s ability 
          to develop his material on a large scale. 
        
 
        
The fascinating aspect of this recording is the use 
          of a fortepiano as the chosen instrument. This is commonplace now, but 
          this recording was made in 1977 when ‘early music’ and the period instrument 
          revival was still very much concentrated in the music of the baroque 
          era and the reproduction of early pianos was in its infancy. The instrument 
          used here is an original; an English piano made by W. Dettmer around 
          the first couple of decades of the 19th century. It is hard to know 
          what condition the instrument was in at that time, and even more difficult 
          to know how much the regulation and possible restoration that would 
          be done today would change the sound. There are still many listeners 
          who just do not like the sound of early pianos, and it must be said 
          that the quality of the sound of this particular instrument is not great. 
          The bass in particular is rather dull; "thunky" if you like. 
          That having been said, there is still a strong argument to be made for 
          the use of such an instrument, as this is the sort of thing that Cherubini 
          would have used to practice his own (limited) keyboard skills. The fact 
          that these sonatas were published for "cimbalo" (properly 
          ‘harpsichord’) should not stand in the way of the stylistic argument 
          for the use of the fortepiano. By the 1780s such instruments were very 
          well established, although the harpsichord was by no means obsolete. 
          For a recording made in 1977 this aspect is particularly interesting. 
        
 
        
Lya De Barberiis plays these works with conviction. 
          A formidable character, to judge by the photo of her in the booklet, 
          seated at a modern grand, one wonders how familiar she was with the 
          fortepiano at the time of the recording. There are aspects of touch 
          and articulation that sound like a player used to a modern piano transferring 
          the same technique onto the lighter instrument, and this may account 
          for some of the hardness in the sound. It is impossible to deny that 
          there are things on the disc that this reviewer does not much like. 
          However, the importance of such a recording of this sort of repertoire, 
          made on an original instrument at the time the recording was produced 
          is an undeniably fascinating aspect. This is the sort of disc that does 
          wonders to promote discussion of aspects of performance practice and 
          even of ‘taste.’ Although there are things which one would not expect 
          to hear in a new recording of the same works, (the aforementioned hardness 
          of the sound, the rather close microphone placement and the very dry 
          studio acoustic) those very aspects define the recording as being of 
          its own time. In this it forms a most interesting listening experience. 
          It is certainly not a disc worth buying if the listener is not prepared 
          to bring their own brain into the equation, but the repertoire, the 
          performance, and the recording are all likely to provoke reaction of 
          one sort or another. It is strongly arguable that that is much of the 
          point. 
        
 
        
        
Peter Wells