A gauge as to whether any recording of Bach’s Well-Tempered
Clavier is likely to become a hit in these parts is if,
once set in motion, I find myself unwilling to stop listening,
or prepared to fast-forward in a search for individual numbers.
This particular set has kept me up far later at night than I
have planned on a number of occasions now, and while my place
of work is possibly one of the few where a whispered ‘...Das
Wohltemperirte...’ might see one get away with dark rings
under the eyes of a morning, there are limits.
I have to admit having been under the spell of this music played
on piano for a while, but first really discovered it in the
1970s with a recording to which I’m still very attached, that
of Gustav Leonhardt, which I still have in the form of a chunky
box of LPs with BASF on the label. The Deutsche Harmonia Mundi
CD re-release of this seems to be well due for a budget edition.
There are numerous other performers on harpsichord who I’ve
found more or less attractive. Toon Koopman, whose musicianship
I otherwise hold in very high regard, was an almost instant
and surprising reject on Erato; Anthony Newman on 903 Records
is good but a trifle imperious, and with a close recording which
can prove fatiguing; Peter Watchorn on the Musica Omnia label
is warmly expressive and arguably too far towards a romantic
approach, but more importantly he seems reluctant to whip up
excitement, taking too many tempi on the more stately side of
interesting. A more realistic choice is Ottavio Dantone on the
ARTS label, also giving the music plenty of time to breathe,
but far more on top of the kind of musicality which makes the
preludes expressive and inspiring, and the fugues vibrant and
alive. Bob van Asperen is also very fine on the Virgin Classics
label, with a nicely sonorous sound, a good sense of sustain,
superb articulation and plenty of variety in terms of tempi.
These are all essential qualities in a harpsichord recording
of this huge masterpiece. You want a recording which captures
the colour of the instrument without giving you proximity neuralgia,
a nice acoustic to balance tone and clarity, and most importantly,
you want an instrument which has a reasonably subtle attack
to the notes, a good sustaining quality and a finely stacked
set of sweetly ringing harmonics. The 1624 Ruckers instrument
used in this fine Capriccio/SWR recording has all of these things
as well as a notable pedigree which is outlined in the booklet.
The restorer Christopher Clarke describes the tuning used for
the recording as ‘circulating irregular’ temperament, ‘permitting
every key but giving a specific colour to each.’ The evidence
for this can be found in the pungent fragrance given to marvellously
chromatic fugues like No. 12 in F minor from book 1.
The recording has been made in a fairly intimate acoustic, but
not so dry as to compromise expression. To my ears it sounds
pretty much ideal. Recorded a year apart, there is a very slight
change in quality between books 1 and 2, with the second volume
sounding as if there is a mild mid-range shift of some kind
and maybe a few millimetres extra distance between the instrument
and microphones. This is by no means disturbing, though my instinct
says that book 1 is preferable and the more natural sounding
of the two sessions.
As for the performance there are also barely any criticisms
to be made. Christine Schornsheim has built a strong reputation
on a variety of keyboards including fortepiano, founded in part
on a training which has included master-classes from Gustav
Leonhardt, and therefore in a line which is in sympathy with
the kind of playing I already appreciate. She has a superb sense
of proportion and rhythmic accuracy without turning herself
into a metronome. There is always a certain amount of give and
take in her little rubati which means that the pace
of the music is not distorted, but that crucial points can be
made and expressive moments are hit naturally and without strange
mannerisms. Ornament is done as directed by Bach or as convention
dictates, but is kept in reserve and used tastefully to enhance
stylistic references or rhetorical features of the score. In
her own text on Das Wohltemperirte Clavier, Christine
Schornsheim writes about her personal associations with the
healing qualities of the music, how its ‘energy brought me inner
peace ... and helped my mind focus on the essentials.’ She has
been playing these preludes and fugues for years as do most
serious keyboard players. Stepping up several gears in order
to realise this project she spent years exploring every dimension
of the pieces. Performed on her favourite instrument, this has
made one of her ‘biggest dreams come true’, and the sense of
joy in achieving this pinnacle is communicated through just
about every bar of these recordings.
Technically, the performances are as good as faultless, though
there is a split note early on, 0:47 seconds into the very first
Fugue in C major. Spectacular runs are spectacular,
chords which need spreading are spread, fugue voices are clear
and consistent, changes in registration help keep up a variety
of texture. For instance, the prelude No. 9 in E major
in book one is given the light sparkle of an upper register,
the following fugue has the added lower octave, which makes
for a nice organic development. Schornsheim mirrors this in
book 2 with the E major Prelude and Fugue No. 9, which
is again very effective. I am glad to find each prelude and
fugue given a separate track in this release, which always makes
hunting around for specific pieces so much easier.
Picking out highlights in such a superb set of performances
is somewhat redundant. Each time you click onto a new track
the response is ‘ooh, that’s good’, and the ear and mind take
you in from there into world of delicious Bachness, or should
that be Bachiosity, or Bachtastic Bachtabulousness ... Book
2 of the two sets is the less frequently recorded of the two,
and so it’s good to have such a strong pairing of both in one
place. The rich resonance of the Ruckers instrument make the
repeated notes which open the prelude No. 3 in C sharp major
ripple elegantly; it’s a shame she doesn’t make the triplet
long-short rhythm I feel is more correct for the main theme
of the Prelude No. 5 in D major, but this is an exciting
take on the piece and filled with irrepressible vitality. I
love the damped strings of the Prelude No. 7 in flat major
and the grandeur of the following fugue, and one of my favourites,
the F major Prelude No. 11 unfurls splendidly: Bach’s
ornately scaled-up frame for one of the briefest and most playful
of the fugues. The Fugue in B flat minor does sound
a little laboured; the slight delay to the placement of notes
in the first half of the opening subject turning out to be a
rod for the back of the entire piece, but such lapses are extremely
rare.
This is a nicely packaged set, with a foldout pack which uses
one of the inner surfaces to give a close-up of the Ruckers
harpsichord with its marvellous landscape on the inside of the
lid. A wondrously fresh sounding and superbly performed recording
of the Well-Tempered Clavier, this is very easy to recommend
to those who favour harpsichord versions of the work, as well,
I hope, as being a persuasive introduction to those more enamoured
of the work recorded on piano.
Dominy Clements