Barricades
Jean Rondeau and Thomas Dunford are the headliners in a new release on Erato of French music: Couperin, Visée, Lambert, Marais, etc., and they are joined in some pieces by Lea Desandre, Marc Mauillon (singers), and Myriam Rignol (viole d’gamba). They open the release with this declaration:
We are ruminants on the passionate gesture, filibusters of joy. Voilà!
The title of the disc references the opening track, the famous harpsichord piece entitled Les Baricades Mïstériueses by François Couperin. What is unique about the collaboration between Rondeau and Dunford is the duets they make from the pieces (whether written for lute or for harpsichord originally). The idea isn’t new; Skip Sempé is perhaps best known for the performance of pieces by two harpsichords in his adaptations with Olivier Fortin and Pierre Hantaï. In the case of two keyboards, the result I thought achieved by Sempé was one of richness and splendor. If we think of baroque art and design, having two instruments played well together reminds me most of the bubbles in champagne or the gold gilding on the gates at Versailles.
The lute of course is a different sound and that difference between two instruments in concert makes for an easier job of the listener to keep two parts separate. What the promotional videos made for this release reveal, too, is the careful coordination between two players—using the same score. Two players don’t just sit down and happily play in concert; beyond practicing together, there’s that visual coordination that is palpable between these two gents. While the overall effect is different, say, comparing Hantaï and Sempé on two harpsichords in their portrayal of Rameau’s music, it is nevertheless successful.
Robert de Visée’s Chaconne (track 6) is perhaps one of the strongest examples of how such a collaboration between lute and harpsichord can work. The lute has an advantage of volume that keys on a harpsichord cannot reproduce through plucking; this combined with registration and timing make for some rather rich and moving experiences. Two instruments together like this make this, I think, an even better piece.
In case you missed that this music was French, the inclusion of sung pieces (which seem most historically apt with lute) drives the point home. The style of the singing, to my ears, carries a satisfying French whiff; the images come to mind of an ensemble of Louis XIV’s court at Versailles by candlelight. Perhaps I’ve watched too many episodes of Versailles, but I can’t help escape the visual.
One of my favorite harpsichord pieces is Antonine Forqueray’s Jupiter, from his fifth suite for gamba. In this case the lute part helps reinforce inner voices that would otherwise be difficult to hear. I like their approach of starting first with harpsichord then adding in the lute as a secondary voice. While I have access to several fine renditions of this piece, as transcribed for harpsichord (Mitzi Meyerson does an excellent job in her 2002 release on MDG), I like this version with the lute, almost certainly because it has helped me hear the piece anew. The division of lines is very clear in the rendition by Atsushi Sakai and Christophe Rousset (Antoine Forqueray: Pièces de viole) but the pairing of Rondeau and Dunford is simply more enjoyable through their interpretive lenses.
While it wasn’t necessary, the inclusion of the viola da gamba in this release as yet another color was wise; it helps tie the literature together, lute music, harpsichord music, and gamba music; the full ensemble closes the disc with a double aria from a Rameau opéra. The baroque period, from its origins out of the Renaissance, is a story about the rise of instrumental music. Here Rondeau and Dunford in their programming help tell that story through multiple examples. The lute or clavecin (to use the French term for the keyboard) was used as an accompanying instrument in so far as serving as the basso continuo (basse continue) to a soloist (flute, yes, but in the samples here, for voice). But the instruments also took on the role of melody makers. This is perhaps not any better told than through the books of pièces de clavecin by numerous composers—some of the most famous seen on this disc—but also through the rise of a bass instrument as a soloist. The style brisée was something born on the lute, and eventually reached its apex in, say, Bach’s opening of the Well-Tempered Clavier. To combine these two instruments, which make up the majority of tracks, is to marry these ideas.
It can’t be said if these pieces were heard as such in the baroque period, but it speaks to performance practice and the pragmatism that most certainly dominated by the smartest musicians during the period. Something tells me those in the court of Louis XIV wouldn’t have found these combinations strange. I applaud all the musicians on this disc for the treat of hearing these pieces just in this way. But beyond instrumental arrangements and new timbres, their musicianmanship shows through in every single piece.
In the end that’s why this release deserves high praise. Recommended for excellent performances and very good sound. The joy, I think, came through very well.
