Louis Couperin was part of a very musical family, and had a
dazzling career as organist, harpsichordist and violinist. He
died at the young age of 35. Little is known of his life, and
only some 200 of his works survive. This set includes all the
known harpsichord works with the exception of three pieces in
a privately-owned manuscript which, apparently, is being coveted
by its owner.
Couperin’s works were not grouped into suites as they
are in this set. Performers were expected to arrange them as
they wished, and Egarr even gives a nod to the iPod age by suggesting,
in the liner-notes, that people “should feel totally free
to reshuffle for their own playlist pleasure”.
Egarr plays two different harpsichords by Joel Katzman, built
in the 1990s. One is a Ruckers copy made in 1991, and the other
a copy of an “anonymous original (probably Jacquet)”
from Paris, 1652. He uses a pitch of a’ = 398 Hz, and
the temperament is “ordinaire” (quarter-comma meantone).
Egarr plays from his own edition of the works. One important
point is the use of quill plectra on the harpsichords. Not often
used, this gives the music a softer, less strident sound, almost
as though it were being played on a velvet harpsichord. The
lush sonorities of this music come through beautifully without
the fatigue that can set in when listening to harpsichord recordings
with the sharp attack of plastic plucking.
So, on to the music. Couperin is known for his invention of
the “unmeasured prelude”, a form of music where
the performer chooses the duration of each note. He developed
a unique type of notation to score these works, an example of
which is reproduced in the liner-notes. These preludes are the
antithesis of the rigidity of many baroque works, offering unlimited
rubato. Single melodic lines proceed with no counterpoint; performers
are presented with waves of notes to be play as they wish. In
many ways, this type of music, avant-garde at the time, is still
unique. Certainly, some contemporary composers have experimented
with similar ways of notating music, but for the 17th century,
this was exceptional.
The other pieces are the usual dance movements of that era:
courantes, sarabandes, allemandes and gigues, with the occasional
gaillarde or passacaille. Couperin’s musical language
shifts between the amorphous unmeasured preludes and these more
standard forms. However, listening to these works as “suites,”
as they are arranged on this set, poses a problem. These are
not suites like those of Bach, where similar melodic structures
are developed and echoed in the different movements. As mentioned
above, these sequences can be organized in any old way, so there
is nothing - other than key - holding together the various movements
of one of Egarr’s suites. At times, there may be similarities
between a couple of pieces, but listening to this music is more
demanding than other baroque harpsichord works. This is music
to be listened to in small doses; yet the listener is rewarded
by its grace and subtle beauty. One thing to try is to make
a playlist of all the preludes; that gives a nice set of nearly
improvisational music.
Louis Couperin’s music requires more attention than that
of some other baroque composers truly to appreciate it. Repeated
listenings reveal similarities, subtleties and musical statements
that are not apparent on a first listen. This is a beautiful
set, with excellent sound, and very convincing performances.
Sold at mid-price, this is worth taking a chance on even if
you aren’t familiar with this Couperin; you won’t
find the same flamboyance encountered with music by the more
famous member of the family, François. Instead you will
discover a unique style, presented with grace and care.
I’m torn between waxing ecstatic about this music and
a certain hesitancy. I’ve known Louis Couperin for some
time, notably through Blandine Verlet’s 4-disc set of
the “complete” works, a disc by Gustav Leonhardt,
and another by Laurence Cummings. Verlet is much more forthright
in her performances than Egarr, but her harpsichord sounds harsh
and rigid. The Leonhardt recording has poor sound but despite
this his mastery comes through quite well. The Cummings recording
has lovely, rich sound, but sometimes is overwhelming, especially
in those pieces with a lot of ornamentation. In the past, therefore,
I’ve never been truly satisfied with any recording I’ve
heard. I don’t own Christophe Rousset’s 2-disc overview
of Louis Couperin’s works - he said, “For this recording,
we have selected the very finest pieces by Louis Couperin. We
ruled out the idea of performing all the pieces - that has already
been done by some of our eminent colleagues”. Rousset’s
sound is comparable to that of Egarr, judging from the samples
I was able to listen to on-line.
Egarr manages to find the best of all worlds in this set. The
combination of his approach - more laid-back than Verlet, for
example - and the luscious sound of his instruments - the use
of quill - make this set much more approachable. Again, you
certainly don’t want to listen to this in extenso.
Instead dip into it from time to time. As you listen, the music
may grow on you. You may well find that Louis Couperin is one
of the great, forgotten composers, and that Richard Egarr has
brought him back to life.
Kirk McElhearn
Kirk McElhearn writes about more than just music on his blog
Kirkville.
Track & other details
CD1
I. Suite in C major (A)
II. Suite in C major (B)
III. Suite in C major (B)
IV. Suite in C minor (A)
V. Suite in D major (A)
CD2
VI. Suite in D minor (B)
VII. Suite in D minor (B)
VIII. Suite in E minor (A)
IX. Suite in F major (A)
CD3
X. Suite in F major (A)
XI. Suite in G major (B)
XII. Suite in G major (B)
XIII. Suite in G minor (B)
XIV. Suite in G minor (A)
XV. Suite in G minor (A)
CD4
XVI. Suite in A minor (B)
XVII. Suite in A minor (B)
XVIII. Suite in A minor (B)
XIX. Suite in A major (B)
Pavanne in F# minor (B)
XX. Suite in B minor (A)
XXI. Suite in B-flat major (B)
Les Carillons de Paris (B)
Instrument details
(A) Joel Katzman, Amsterdam, 1991, after Ruckers, Antwerp, 1638
(B) Joel Katzman, Amsterdam, 1995, after an anonymous original
(probably Jacquet), Paris, 1652
Pitch: a’ = 398 Hz / Temperament: ‘ordinaire’
(quarter-comma meantone)
Performing edition prepared by Richard Egarr. The numbering
corresponds to Bruce Gustafson’s catalogue of works by
Louis Couperin.