La Famille Rameau
Justin Taylor followed his earlier recital idea presented in La Famille Forqueray, by choosing pieces by Jean-Philippe Rameau. In addition, the recital is bolstered by pieces by Claude Rameau (born later), Jean-François Tapray (born later), Claude-François Rameau (born later), Lazare Rameau (born later), and Claude Debussy’s Hommage à Rameau on a Erard piano from 1891.
I did not know Rameau came had such a musical family, but how could one not be surprised? The liner notes make sense of Rameau’s kids and cousins. Some years ago I was taken by the outstanding recording by Jean Rondeau of Rameau and Royer entitled Vertigo using the Assas harpsichord made famous by Scott Ross. I was so pleased to see Justin Taylor had the opportunity to record this disc on the same instrument at the Chateau.
Les tendres plaintes starts the album, which when coupled with the Cyclopes number, acts as an appropriate warm-up/prelude. Phrasing in this introduction isn’t all about cleanly spaced articulation; under his belt, Taylor is willing to play in an entirely legato style. His walk away from the notes on the page is so entirely refreshing. What makes this piece a bore for me is hearing the melody repeated the same way each time; Taylor’s interpretation I think is refreshing in his desire to use the music as a blueprint from which to move us.
Taylor’s playing is characteristically different from Rondeau; Rondeau can turn on the speed and intensity when he wants which makes for exciting interpretations. I’d say before listening to this disc that Taylor’s heart beats less fast; he’s perhaps more introspective? I am not sure these characterizations are at all helpful, but they do speak to my expectations. Upon listening, I’d augment my previous thoughts with the evidence heard in this disc: Taylor pays especial attention to articulation and in the second track, we get a taste for it, if not something more weighty like a dissertation. The spacing between notes and ahead of ornaments is refreshing and satisfying both. Speed is on his side in his performance of Les Cyclopes, but he also manages to insert pauses that disrupt what are often very mechanical-sounding interpretations. He also starts out the gate fully charged with the desire to add his own flourishes through ornaments and runs. His study on articulation is heard elsewhere, too. The contrasts he is able to conjure with articulation is really a marvel.
My first experience with Rameau’s harpsichord pieces was by way of Christophe Rousset. I remember hearing his rendition of L’Egyptieene and falling in love with that piece. It came across loud, full of fire, and rhythmically so interesting. In Taylor’s hands, it is less hot fire. I’d say it’s less to do with the chosen tempo and more about the delicate sound of the Assas harpsichord, the sound engineering, which is on the medium-dry side, and that engineering combined with Taylor’s focus on articulation almost reinvents this piece for me. Again, his willingness to ornament and extemporize is very refreshing. I can’t say one performance is better, but this new one by Taylor exposes the piece in new light.
To be sure, in going back to Rondeau’s recording, the sound engineering is very different; I think this recording is more transparent and captures less of the room than the Rondeau recording.
The variations on the Sauvages by Tapray quotes Rameau’s music with harmonies that seem so far removed from the original baroque sound world. Tapray was not related to Rameau but made his arrangement in 1770. As a musical document it is extraordinary; it’s rooted in the baroque sound, of course, by way of its original harmony and the texture we glean from the instrument. There are also those galante elements that burst from the familiar tune which are fascinating to hear. We could imagine the piece, when it introduces whiffs of Mozart, on a fortepiano. The piece keeps interjecting the flavor of Rameau’s original against new variations that exploit the theme in ways that are entirely fresh. The piece is a gem, I think. Taylor keeps the momentum up, and keeps it steady, which I can only imagine is one of the particular challenges of this piece.
Perhaps the crown jewel of Rameau’s harpsichord oeuvre is the Gavotte avec six doubles, which is the penultimate track on this disc. By some artists, it becomes a real showpiece, building up as it naturally does as the doubles become more complex. Taylor presents the theme, the gavotte, at a particularly slow tempo, I think. The chosen tempo allows him to get into every nook and cranny of that piece, and for me, the journey was a good one, revealing a little more shadow and light than I’d noticed before. The first double picks up, but nothing is turbo charged. Taylor’s approach makes everything transparent and clear, in both hands. It’s revelatory, in fact. One could always follow along with the music, but it’s Taylor’s articulation, I think, lending the experience this quality. In the fourth double, he contrasts his articulation between what I’d call staccato and legato expertly. The fifth has him firing on all cylinders. It’s crisp and tight. For the final double, you cannot help but smile brightly through the whole thing. His flourishes in the last repeat reveal his genius.
The final track is surprising when we hear piano and the musical language of a disjointed era. Debussy’s desire, it could be said, was to join these disjointed musical styles together, paying respects to a forgotten French keyboard master. The lack of dynamic contrast on this period piano is somewhat shocking, which I think makes it interesting. Being honest, I don’t like the piece and in general, am not a fan of romantic, impressionist piano music. Thankfully I can program it out.
For completeness, I think its inclusion makes sense for the album concept.
It wasn’t that long ago that Justin Taylor was a new name on the harpsichord scene. I knew he had promise and his recordings with Le Consort have been excellent. He’s a very supportive continuo player. This album, I am thinking, puts him squarely on the world stage as an outstanding interpreter of his instrument. It is easy to make grandiose statements, but I am so moved by this disc. To be sure, I like Skip Sempé’s style, which frankly has perhaps a little more horsepower in playing than Taylor. I’ve liked Rondeau’s interpretations. So this statement isn’t made because these interpretations are necessarily in the same vein as those I have praised before on this website. But I think the technical control and fresh elements Taylor renders in these pieces is something extraordinary. While the exposure of other pieces from the Rameau family and the Tapray was nice, I think the impact this album will have on future interpreters will be immense for the technical control with articulation that Taylor transparently reveals to us.
Simply put, I think this recording is a real achievement. Obviously, recommended!
