The 
                question of which solo instrument to use for playing these concerti, 
                which was debated with such ferocious intensity during the first 
                half of the 20th Century, has now been settled. Curiously, in 
                this age of authentic original performance practice the answer 
                is: play it on anything you can put your hands on. But in those 
                days, I accosted Lukas Foss, whose excellent LP recording of BWV 
                1052 on the piano had just been released, in the hallway at UCLA 
                and bluntly demanded to know why he didn’t play it on the harpsichord. 
                He looked at me kindly and said, "because the piano is my 
                instrument." Of course Landowska would have retorted "but 
                it wasn’t HIS instrument!" and squared off for a fist fight. 
                But I was being fractious and Foss was right and we are much the 
                richer today for the variety of performances of all Bach concertos 
                in the authentic Baroque pluralistic attitude: whatever flies, 
                fly it.  
              
 
              
And 
                these concerti in particular make this point for Bach produced 
                at least two versions of all of them. BWV 1054 is better known 
                as the Violin Concerto #2 in E, BWV 1042; it was the first Bach 
                I ever loved, having heard it played on television by Yehudi Menuhin. 
                I knew nothing about classical music then, and didn’t hear the 
                announcement; it took me four years to track down a recording 
                in a university library, rush home and play it over and over all 
                evening long. Yet I had never cared for the keyboard version which 
                seemed ill suited to the music. Until now, that is.  
              
 
              
Perahia’s 
                version is the first keyboard version that completely satisfies. 
                No surprise when the keyboard artist is one of the two or three 
                greatest living pianists, an artist who it seems can play music 
                from every age as well or better than any ‘specialist,’ who always 
                has something vitally important to add to the dialogue about any 
                work he touches. Interestingly, Perahia does own a harpsichord 
                and plays harpsichord music on it to understand how it would sound. 
                Then he finds an equivalent approach at the keyboard of ‘his instrument.’ 
                 
              
 
              
Keyboard 
                Concerto #5, BWV 1056, is a transcription of a presumed lost concerto 
                for oboe d’amour, or for violin, and the slow movement was used 
                in Cantata BWV 156. Some scholars believe that the slow movement 
                usually played here actually belongs to the Concerto #8, BWV 1059, 
                and utilise other music in the violin or oboe version. The Glenn 
                Gould recording of this work caused a sensation when it was released 
                and is still to be considered one of his finest performances. 
                But by emphasising the percussive aspects of the music, it clearly 
                forms one extreme, with much area remaining for alternative versions. 
                Perahia’s version is more lyrical, but with no less rhythmic integrity. 
                 
              
 
              
One 
                might think that for a work that the composer produced in harpsichord 
                and violin versions, the guitar transcription would be the perfect 
                choice for a solo instrument, and so it may well yet turn out 
                to be. But Sharon Isbin adopts for BWV 1041 a choppy technique 
                of absurdly accented phrases, with more antic accents than even 
                Glenn Gould could imagine. When this is compared directly to Perahia’s 
                liquid legato in these same passages, there is no contest, the 
                Perahia performance is at once to be preferred. He is actually 
                able to preserve the singing legato of the violin while keeping 
                the rhythmic interest of the harpsichord.  
              
 
              
Throughout 
                these recordings Perahia plays lyrically and dramatically, with 
                great fidelity to the published score, only very rarely adding 
                an extra trill, passing tone, or arpeggio, and no octave doubling 
                that I can hear. He achieves astonishing clarity in rapid legato 
                passages, each note distinct, yet never slipping into that strutting, 
                hopping staccato of Glenn Gould at his worst, and without ever 
                producing the smeary burbling tone of, for instance, Pletnev playing 
                Scarlatti. The Kipnis recordings were a revelation when first 
                released on LP, the first versions by top drawer artists of some 
                of these lesser known concertos; but in comparison with recent 
                recordings they now seem somewhat low key, lacking in drive and 
                drama.  
              
 
              
It 
                is in the final work where the glory of SACD sound shows itself. 
                In the Brandenburg Concerto #4 where the violin plays what is 
                here the keyboard part, there is plenty of differentiation in 
                the sound of the three solo instruments, likewise in the harpsichord 
                version. But the piano is so similar in sound to the flutes, playing 
                in the same register with a similar texture, that the SACD sound 
                is very helpful in clearly keeping the voices separate in our 
                perception, both sonically and directionally. I would expect that 
                in the CD version (I’ve not heard it) there is a tendency for 
                the instruments to merge into a single sonority.  
              
 
              
Paul 
                Shoemaker