With excellent sound and commanding playing, these 
          three CDs of Bach's English and French Suites are a really attractive 
          proposition. Alan Curtis performs the music with conviction; tempi always 
          seem just right, so that the phrasing allows the tone of the instrument 
          to make its mark and the flow of Bach's inspiration to communicate naturally. 
        
 
        
Curtis plays a splendidly renovated instrument by Christian 
          Zell from 1728. Getting the right sound for a harpsichord, as for a 
          guitar, is not necessarily easy, and many a recording project has floundered 
          because of it. Not so here, since the Teldec engineers in Hamburg managed 
          just the right balance and atmosphere. Take any of the twelve suites 
          in the collection, and the same positive observations apply. The recording 
          is not too close, so that the workings of the instrument become distracting, 
          nor too distant, so that the music lacks impact and drama. 
        
 
        
By Bach's time keyboard instruments had come to dominate 
          solo music-making, and since there were no recitals of the kind we know 
          today, his fundamental keyboard style was a private one without regard 
          to deliberate ostentation. The exact date of composition of these suites 
          is not known, but they were probably written around 1717, either during 
          his final year at the Court of Weimar or in the earlier part of his 
          six-year period as kapellmeister at Cöthen (1717-1723). 
        
 
        
While the French suites clearly take inspiration from 
          Lully's approach, in following a Prelude with a sequence of dance movements, 
          there is nothing particularly English about these impressive and substantial 
          pieces, and the origin of this title is something of a mystery. It is, 
          however, thought that Bach may have dedicated the music to 'a distinguished 
          Englishman', whose identity has remained unknown. 
        
 
        
Given the common ground that the twelve compositions 
          contain, it becomes tempting to think that there is an easy formula 
          at work. And there is, to the extent that the dances are designed to 
          follow and develop from one another. But beyond that surface consideration, 
          the individual personality of each composition makes its mark, for which 
          all praise to Alan Curtis, since his interpretations really do bring 
          out the potential of the music. And one can ask for nothing more in 
          Bach, of all composers. 
        
 
        
        
Terry Barfoot