The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1 - Trevor Pinnock
Trevor Pinnock—harpsichordist and orchestra leader—has played an important role in my life, specifically to the discovery and enjoyment of baroque music. His recordings on DG Archiv in the 1980s were among just a few available using a historically-informed practice in mainstream record/music stores in the U.S. At the time, I often felt either Pinnock would have played "it" with the English Concert, or else it would be Hogwood with the Academy of Ancient Music.
His recordings of the Bach harpsichord concertos exposed me first to Bach; his recording of the Goldberg Variations lived with me for some time. A poster announcing a performance by the English Concert in the U.S. in the 1990s hangs in my home office, signed by the likes of Rachel Podger, Trevor Pinnock, and Pamela Thorby.
Well, now we've come full circle. The need for a specialized label for early music has seemed to have passed with time, and here, in 2020, is Pinnock again, on solo harpsichord, on the DG label. If the videos he's been doing that have appeared on YouTube are any indication, the second book will be released as well.
I am sure most readers are familiar with Bach's collection of preludes and fugues for keyboard. The "well tempered" aspect relates to the need to have the harpsichord tuned so that you can play a variety of pieces in one sitting, as each pair is presented in each of the 12 minor and 12 major keys. The collection of Bach's first and second books are therefore referred to as the "48."
Pinnock chose a tuning standard that isn't quite "equally tempered" but seems to work well enough; it's un-equal enough to hear some color in some of the pieces. He has also chosen to record the pieces on his own personal harpsichord that has already appeared in many records, made by David Jacques Way. The choice of instrument seems sound, as we get a taste of "classic Pinnock."
I nevertheless don't think his instrument is the most beautiful I've heard, but there is a special fullness to its sound in the midrange. (The best way I might describe it is to compare the sound to a choir that has more tenors than the other voice parts.) I switched to listening to Christophe Rousset, who often chooses different instruments across his recordings, and the more intimate sound of Pinnock's recording is better, as is, I think, the sound of the instrument. Rousset's recording for me is far too metallic, which I know could be made into a joke about harpsichords across the board, but a quick comparison will illustrate my point. I did like, however, the "air" captured around Bob van Asperen's recording on harpsichord, released in 2006 on Virgin Veritas.
I long for the day when we can capture music without the color of its acoustical surroundings and apply the instruments and musicians digitally into our own choice of acoustical spaces. Alas, Pinnock's is somewhat drier than I like, but after a few tracks, our ears adjust.
The sound of Pierre Hantaï's instrument from his 2003 recording on Mirare is interesting, I am not sure it has that sweet air from van Asperen (please, move the microphones an inch further away?), but the tone of his instrument is palpable. Moreover, his interpretation, I think, has far more personality than either van Asperen or Pinnock bring to their performances of the preludes and fugues.
Pinnock manages to play very well, but closer to "by the book" than "by taking chances." Perhaps we shouldn't be surprised? His recording of Handel's opus 6 concerti grossi in the late 1980s with the English Concert was very well done, but over time, as it has been re-recorded, those older recordings have a bit of British polish to them, akin in my mind to the shine we'd apply to fine silver. Everything is just so and nothing is meant to stand out.
In his reading of the E-flat major prelude, BWV 852, I found the tempo and rhythm to be a little too careful. The tempo and energy in the C minor prelude, BWV 847, is very different, the pace is brisk and the ending is a qualifiable flourish.
My favorite pair from the set is the last, in B minor, BWV 869. For me, a harpsichord is almost too limiting an instrument to fully render the energy in Bach's fugue. I am perhaps spoiled by listening to versions on piano, or played by string quartets. Pinnock's version, though, is quite even; I wouldn't dare push the tempo faster, and it reveals another interpretation of his philosophy as a performer: get out of the way. He's letting the music speak for itself, as best one can on a mechanical instrument that plucks long strings of brass with equal force. It's a respectful type of interpretation, it's simple, humble, and honest.
And much the same could be said for the two discs together.
And any recommendation for this new release will be tied up in your philosophy of interpretation. I tend today to favor the recordings that reveal strong personality. Some call this an "Italian" style, perhaps best illustrated by the likes of the ensemble Il Giardino Armonico, among several others. But this gusto is no longer promoted just by those with Italian heritage. It's more common today, for sure, than it was fifteen years ago.
Perhaps a more apt comparison for Pinnock's new release is the one made by Canadian harpsichordist Kenneth Gilbert, a collaborator who worked with Pinnock in the 1980s. Their styles aren't terribly foreign; the biggest take-away is the sound of their instruments. Gilbert's is thin and crisp (and overtly loud and too reverberent) and Pinnock's, husky. Some might call it as cold vs. warm.
I still go back and listen to the Pinnock recordings he made on DG Archiv from time to time. Often I am surprised that they hold up well. They no longer are my top-tier choices. But I know them well and part of the joy is hearing something familiar again. I'm afraid I might say the same thing about this new release. For me, it won't be the desert island set I take with me (that may well go to Hantaï, or perhaps even my favorite piano rendition by F. Gulda), but variety is the spice of life, and this recording is rich in honesty and through some examples, a counterpoint to interpretations built upon strong ideas in articulation, extreme tempos, and overly indulgent moments of rubato.
We find in Bach's music places for all of this. If that resonates with you, this could be your desert island set.
Notes: Auditioned the set in 192kHz,24 bit streaming from Qobuz.
