Writing this review at the beginning of June 2009, I must first
admit to admiration at the speed with which this recording has
been prepared and released. No aspect
of the production has been skimped however, and the booklet is rich in photos,
facsimile fragments of the original score, a cross-section illustration and history
of the 1755 Gottfried-Silbermann organ, and lengthy essays including an analysis
of the
Goldberg Variations by Gerd Zacher, and young organist Martin Schmeding’s
explanation of his performing decisions and the adaptation of this piece for
organ. I am already a big fan of Martin Schmeding’s playing from the magnificent
Cybele recording of Tilo Medek’s
organ
works, so we’re off to a good start.
All fans of Bach will surely be familiar with this piece on piano or harpsichord,
and the original composer’s indication of music
Vors Clavicimbal mit
2 Manualen could hardly be clearer. The argument for an arrangement for organ
as opposed to piano is that this is ‘a natural evolution from the original
version for harpsichord. The intended effects and contrasts, often abrupt ...
are rendered in a particularly plastic manner on the organ, through the multiplicity
of stops at one’s disposal.’ In other words, two manuals and more
on the organ is closer to Bach’s original than the one manual and relatively
monochrome quality of a modern piano. There have been recordings of this work
on
organ before,
but the claim made for this recording is that it is the first to be made properly
on an organ from Bach’s time.
Indeed, the Silbermann organ of this recording was consecrated in 1755 and was
much admired by Mozart when he played it in 1789. The pipes of the organ were
saved from damage during the Second World War by being stored at the Marienstern
Monastery in 1944, not long before the bombing of Dresden. The sound of this
instrument, Silbermann’s last and grandest, is therefore pretty much unchanged
since it was originally built. It looks and sounds magnificent.
The first question I hear everyone ask is, ‘the
Goldberg Variations on
organ, that can’t work surely? Won’t that be like reading Shakespeare’s
sonnets through a megaphone?’ Well yes, you may find there is a certain
amount of mental adjustment to be made, but I for one was pleasantly surprised
at the results from this recording. You have to be prepared for the character
of the music to be altered, and the sonorities we normally associate with this
secular masterpiece do become imbued with a certain churchliness on the organ.
Bach’s elegantly simple
Aria normally chimes with a gentle aura
of tenderness and reflection on piano or harpsichord, the attack and decay of
the notes and the character of the instrument on which they are played having
an important role to play in the nature of the performer’s interpretation.
Martin Schmeding’s approach on the organ is not to attempt any kind of
reproduction of this character, but does show his sensitivity to the music in
the sublime, exquisitely haunting opening of this recording. He revels in the
organ’s character and the beautiful church acoustic, sustaining the spread
chords - as they are written - under the floating melody like a muted string
orchestra. Any angst you might have had about the sound of the organ v.
Goldberg should
be dissipated immediately, unless you are absolutely allergic to organ, in which
case why are you playing this disc in the first place.
The first variation also goes some way towards addressing a second potential
problem - that of rhythm. The
Goldberg Variations is full of great beauty,
but also has a good deal of punch and bouncy fun in many of the variations, and
the worry with organ is that this will be lost in a wallowy soup. Schmeding goes
for jabs from the succulent squelch of the 16’ bassoon stop as a bass of
this first variation, and plenty of the dancing character is maintained in this
way. The nature of the organ is such that the player can layer textures and variety
of sound to a greater extent even that a two manual harpsichord, so that the
definition of the counterpoint is always very clear. This however also means
that we are at the mercy of the organist’s selection of stops. Martin Schmeding’s
work on this music has been thorough and careful, and he notes the arrangement
for each variation in the booklet. These are often technical remarks and probably
won’t mean much to non-organists, but if a particular variation makes you
wonder what exotic box of tricks made the sounds then your inquisitive nature
can be swiftly assuaged. As the work progresses we are given a remarkable variety
of solutions to the problems of sonority and colour, with each problem of transcribing
for rhythm, melodic clarity and articulation on the organ being effectively addressed.
I’ve listened to and even enjoyed the
Goldberg Variations in a variety
of styles and on numerous media, even including extreme examples such as the
squeeze-box.
With any such alternative, you have to ditch your preconceptions and appreciate
or abhor the intrinsic values in the conception, performance and ultimate results
for what they are. For me, it is far better to have a good performance of such
a masterpiece on an organ that a dreadful one on harpsichord, or piano for that
matter. Do I have any criticisms of this recording? Yes, a few, but these are
not necessarily negative comments, more observations which may or may not concern
potential purchasers of this disc.
It is the nature of a good organ recording that the position of the organ pipes
is accurately conveyed in the stereo image, and this recording is so marvellous
that you sometimes have the feeling you are almost inside the instrument. This
is especially true in surround mode, such that you can have melodic figures bouncing
around the room like a squash ball. I’m not particularly bothered by this,
but being used to hearing these tunes come from more or less one place it is
something to bear in mind. The sheer variety of different colour in the organ
stops means that you may find the familiar sense of comforting continuity in
this piece is also something which is compromised to a certain extent, though
the all-round excellence of the organ and its own unique character provides its
own sense of unity. The changes in registration are all achieved soundlessly,
and while this is a genuine historic instrument there is nothing rough and ‘dangerous’ about
the sound. This is no heap of ancient pipes held together with string and scaffolding,
and the aesthetic beauty of the instrument’s physical presence is reflected
in rich sonority and the kind of colour in the sound which you can listen to
for the whole 75 minutes without fatigue. True, organ is more ‘in your
face’ than the more familiar harpsichord in this music, and you don’t
have the feeling you can take a back seat and relax in such a remarkably detailed
and richly colourful acoustic picture, but Schmeding takes care that the fuller
registrations are contrasted here and there with more rounded and reflective
sounds. A side effect of all this wonderful contrast is however a change in that
sense of ongoing narrative which I always end up seeking in recordings of the
Goldberg
Variations. This is one of those hard to quantify elements in a performance
which is personal to every listener, but for me is the sense that everything
is connected in a way which somehow transcends the mere fact of a thematic relationship
with the Aria theme. I’m not going to say that Martin Schmeding doesn’t
have this feeling in his performance, but would say that a side effect of all
this change of sonority between variations means that one may have to seek it
in ways other than with more familiar keyboards.
Whether Martin Schmeding has gone too far or not in serving up such a rich feast
of organ variety in these variations is a matter of taste. If he had opted for
anything less I’m sure there would be those howling cries of ‘monotony’ in
his general direction, but this recording does cruise close to becoming a demo
disc for the Gottfried Silbermann organ brand if one chooses to hear it as such.
Aside from that beautiful opening, the crucial part of this piece for me - and
where this recording wins - is the final sequence of variations from around variation
21, the
Canone alla Settima, and the building of the final structure towards
the final
Aria. Schmeding takes this 21
st variation down low
and introduces tremulous stops to add character. The fugal 22
nd variation
propels us into ‘coda-feel’ mode with the refreshing sonorities of
a low reed Trombone stop and the upper swell and great. The lighter character
of variation 23 is allowed plenty of space, and leads nicely into 24 which is
given a ‘string’ effect in the manual. The gorgeous
Trio which
follows is taken in a superb ‘less is more’ reading, with three-part
simplicity built into an 8’ principal solo stop for the melody, 8’ reed
flute to accompany and 16’ pedal as support. Variation 26 is again taken
as playful light relief, pairing itself with the dancing 27
th variation
which spares us low sonorities through increasingly high 4’ flutes and
2’ principals. Continuity is again preserved between 27 and 28 with fluty ‘trills’ also
using something called the ‘Siffleten’ stop. Now at variation 29
we really are on our way home, with the amplifying effect of aligning two different
full-organ mixture stops. Variation 30, the famous
Quodlibet then has
the full glory of just about everything being coupled to everything else. After
this climax it only seems sensible to reinforce the final return of the
Aria with
the melody using an 8’ Unda maris stop as well as the familiar 16’ bass.
This maintains the essential atmosphere of the opening, but takes the ‘used’ condition
our now thoroughly exercised ears and brains into consideration.
Giving such a blow-by-blow of the differences between variations is not much
of a way to give a real impression of this recording, but does give some indication
of the way in which Schmeding tackles the issues of each movement and the sense
of contrast and indeed the relationship between each. To be fair, there is a
sort of cycle of variations throughout which use the same arrangement of stops
with additional minor tweaks here and there, so to argue that there is too much
chopping and changing would also falsely represent the fine achievement of this
recording. For organ buffs and SACD aficionados I would say this has to be one
of the discs of the year. The recording not only captures the scale of the acoustic
and the magnificent range of the Silbermann instrument, but also somehow manages
to portray the depth and scale of the instrument itself. Looking at the cross-section
of the organ makes clear the distance between certain ranks of pipes ranged behind
the main facade, and these proportions come across entirely naturally but with
striking accuracy.
Martin Schmeding plays with great style and expressive flexibility while keeping
well within the bounds of Baroque performance idiom, and by throwing in a few
nice extra ornaments and runs without imposing virtuosic artifice onto the music.
My own view is that fans of Bach and the
Goldberg-Variationen should also
make haste to add this disc to their collection. Purists who believe otherwise
can keep to their views, but will be missing out on a treat. This disc provides
a valid new viewpoint on some of the best Baroque keyboard music ever written,
slotting it neatly among the pages of the rest of the organ
Clavier-Übung and
managing to inhabit both the worlds of authentic period music making and an entirely
new ‘re-invention’ of BWV 988.
Dominy Clements
Martin Schmeding (organ) 
030.802 [74:44] 
