These are the six Partitas that form the first part of Bach's 
Clavierübung, which
                was published by Bach between 1726 and 1730 while at Leipzig.
                Perhaps because the composer's first such publication, he seems
                to have been cautious; only in 1731 did he collect the six pieces
                (BWVs 825 to 830) and advertise them as vehicles for keyboard
                practice (Clavierübung) consisting of preludes and five
                or six dance movements - a format that had been familiar for
                several centuries. 
                
                What's more, some of the movements in these Partitas had previous
                incarnations: the two 
Minuets from Number 1 are to be
                found in a manuscript containing pieces by various members of
                Bach's family, the 
Kleine Clavier-Stücke. From the
                original (1725) version of the G major sonata for violin and
                harpsichord, BWV 1019, come the 
Courante and 
Gavotte of
                Number 6. In the same year, 1725, Bach began composition of his 
Clavierbüchlein for
                Anna Magdalena; this contained the first versions of Partitas
                Number 3 and 6. 
                
                The model for compositions such as Bach's 
Clavierübung was
                not new: in the last decade of the previous century his predecessor
                at Leipzig, Johann Kuchnau (1660 - 1722), had published a highly
                successful 
Neuer Clavier Übung. Indeed, Bach's set
                may even have been (partly) in tribute to the older musician.
                In any case, the originally French format of four or more dance
                suites (
Allemande, 
Courante, 
Sarabande and 
Gigue)
                probably preceded by a Prelude had been independently established
                in German-speaking musical circles by Froberger by the middle
                of the seventeenth century. 
                
                By and large this is the sequence that Bach followed. But each
                one departs to some extent from the base: no two of these Partitas
                are the same in form or sequence. Number 1 has two 
Minuets before
                the closing 
Gigue, Number 2 begins with a short 
Sinfonia and
                ends with a 
Rondeau (misspelled 
Rondeaux in the
                booklet)
 and 
Capriccio. Number 3 has a 
Fantasia at
                the start and intersperses a 
Burlesca and 
Scherzo before
                the 
Gigue. The fourth Partita begins with a fast 
Ouverture and
                has an 
Aria between its 
Courante and 
Sarabande and
                a 
Minuet between the latter and the 
Gigue. Number
                5 begins with a 
Præambulum and has both a movement
                in 
Tempo di Minuetta and 
Passepied before the 
Gigue.
                The sixth starts with a fugued 
Toccata and again has an 
Air as
                fourth and 
Tempo di Gavotta as sixth movements. 
                
                Yet careful listening, which Australian-born Nicholas Parle makes
                natural yet essential, reveals what all this variation really
                implies: this is very original, inspired and thoughtful music.
                Bach is not reproducing structures according to a formula. Still
                less - despite their name - is he really reducing the work to
                mechanical exercise pieces. We can be sure that Bach fully intended
                these choices and orders - at the least for dramatic, thematic
                and tonal tension and integrity. 
                
                Such pieces as the 
Fantasia the start of Partita 3 [CD.2
                tr.1], however, are typical of Parle's very solid and inspired
                approach to this music. It's businesslike and efficient without
                a whiff of the perfunctory; sensitive and thoughtful without
                romanticism; driven and purposeful without a hint of hurry. On
                the one hand, each movement is treated as a gem in its own right.
                On the other his playing unobtrusively places it in the wider
                context of the Partita (a synonym for Suite, after all) as a
                whole. Listen to the rhythmic intensity coupled with unalloyed
                delight in the fifth Partita's brief 
Courante [CD.3 tr.3],
                for example. It acquires greater meaning when followed by Parle's
                equally restrained yet taut approach to the 
Sarabande that
                follows. And the arresting dotted quavers of the 
Tempo di
                Minuetta. 
                
                Although perhaps not conveying the detached spring of a Verlet
                (Philips Duo 442559); certainly not the wayward imprint of a
                Gould, Parle's style is closer to Suzuki (Bis 1313 and 1314)
                and never lacks vigour or energy … listen to the way
                the third Partita's 
Courante [CD.2 tr.3] unfolds and,
                as befits the origins of the movement, then never loses steam
                or breath. The same superlatives apply to the way Parle effortlessly
                manages a sense of forward motion and serious intent, yet an
                intent to enjoy and celebrate life, in the 
Gigue in the
                same Partita [CD.2 tr.7]; and, for that matter in the 
Ouverture of
                Number 4. But never suggests rush or haste … listen to
                the end of the 
Courante in Partita Number 4 [CD.2 tr.10];
                here Parle brings out the French as well as the Bachian idiom.
                Yet he does so without extraneous gestures to draw attention
                to his highly accomplished style - as is the case throughout
                these three CDs. Splendid. For evidence of Parle's level of technique,
                the sixth Partita's 
Toccata [CD.3 tr.8] almost says it
                all … balance, attack, poise, accuracy and a steely yet
                transparent momentum fully in accord with the harpsichord's timbre. 
                
                In his attention to phrasing and structure, Parle has a gift
                of conjuring up the movement and vitality of Bach's music. And
                it's consistently done with the unselfconscious aplomb and 
gravitas of
                a performer like Tureck herself, whose performances on Doremi
                (7826), although of some age now, have that same unobtrusive
                weight. Parle quietly commands our attention. Once we've inclined
                our heads to listen, we don't go back to what we were doing,
                so to speak: we always involuntarily turn to face … less
                Parle as interpreter; but to concentrate wholly once more on
                Bach as genius. 
                
                The harpsichord played by Parle is by the Australian William
                Bright after a Ruckers original from the early/mid seventeenth
                century. It's a powerful instrument with a rounded yet distinct,
                somewhat reticent, sound profile that's well suited to the precision
                and impact of Bach's music. The acoustic is close - but intimate,
                rather than enclosed. 
                
                The liner notes are informative, though they lack, perhaps, more
                ruminative examination of the non-technical import of these very
                uplifting, memorable, influential and inspiring works by Bach.
                There are literally dozens of good recordings of these works
                - on modern as well as period instruments. Pinnock on Hänssler
                Classic (92115) is a good first choice. And for a contemporary
                and fresh account with which you could happily live this latest
                offering from ABC Classics should certainly get a look in at
                that level. 
                
                
Mark Sealey