Alard continues his reference collection of Bach's Keyboard Works
Volume 6
Of course, the fact that the book begins with the key of C and ends with B, on that compositional peak I mentioned earlier, is not insignificant on the symbolic level; but it doesn’t mean the pieces should be played in that order. It must be admitted that these semitone progressions can become rather tedious in the long run. So I wanted to find a different order, and it was while listening to the recording that we hit on this way of doing it via the subdominants, favouring links through tonal attractions which, for me, proved to be wholly convincing. Let’s hope our listeners will feel the same way…
Benjamin Alard has been busy performing solo Bach; he’s now up to the sixth edition of his complete traversal of the keyboard works by J.S. Bach, and in some combines both works for organ and for other instruments. In this installment the major collections covered are the Clavier Notebook for Wilhelm Friedemann Bach and the first book of the Well-Tempered Clavier. Alard uses both Hass clavichord from 1763 and the (famous) triple-keyboard Hass harpsichord from 1740 that lives in the Musée Instrumental de Provins.
The opening quote comes from the liner notes which Harmonia Mundi continues to print in the most minuscule type that drives me bonkers. Yes, I can zoom it up in PDF but the document is not very thoughtfully produced with usability in mind. And it captures probably the most controversial thing about the recording, at least from the perspective of the album’s production. Alard, as stated, decided to order the pieces differently, not following key-order as what just about everyone else does who records the entire collection.
His point I gather makes sense; the idea of sitting down to listen to 24 preludes and fugues at one go is likely not what we’d have encountered in Bach’s day; the pieces had a very strong pedagogical nature to them, after all, and we could imagine Bach or some other teacher working with younger players developing their both their technique with this collection, one set at a time. At the end of the day, the decision to order the pieces this way doesn’t really matter when I can program my own order with software. It’s just less convenient when picking and choosing what I want to hear. (His record company has also chosen to group the tracks with the preludes and fugues attached as a real set. I just wish this was done consistently as a gentleman’s agreement among all recordings; more separate the movements than combine them. I don’t have a real preference, but being able to cue up a fugue directly is nice, Harmonia Mundi.)
Alard studied in France before ultimately going to the Schola Cantorum in Basel. He’s probably been most closely associated with La Petite Bande and I’ve found his approach consistently conservative in style. He’s been very much brought up within the European HIPP community and his choices here of using two authentic, original instruments, speaks to his dedication to what me might otherwise consider a literal performance practice doctrine. I only point this out because my last review of the Bach Cello Suites featured an artist (same label) who has a different approach toward performance practice. I won’t go so far to point labels on these approaches but for readers interested, we’re at that point in the evolution of contemporary performance practice where things have splintered well and good with the lack of any one particular doctrine. Being optimistic, it’s perhaps good that there isn’t only one such doctrine but nevertheless, understanding one’s background and “school of thought” can help prepare you for what’s on record (or in a performance enjoyed live).
I would well believe that Alard has set out to record the definitive collection of HIPP Bach. I’d go so far to conjecture that he’s expecting the fruit of his efforts to last beyond his years and to produce something to value, using instruments that are not just copies, but true original instruments.
Much goes in the notes about convincing us that these two collections have some deserved attention together; the pieces written for W. F. Bach are performed on clavichord which can be a delightfully rich experience to the listener. The recording of both instruments is well done yet I can’t help but think that the clavichord’s sound is rather loud if we listen to one track versus another on the harpsichord. (I have a guilty pleasure of playing clavichord extra loud, beyond “historical” authenticity, but the instrument’s inability to carry far is often why we don’t hear it in public performance. It would have been the most common home keyboard instrument in Bach’s time due to its size and the lower cost to produce them. Clavichords also have an ability which is lacking in harpsichords: the keys can be played with both what today we call aftertouch and some degrees in dynamics .
Among the finer points across the collections is Alard’s tactile approach with ornaments; they stand out and are each done tastefully. He plays them in such a way that we notice them, as if to say they are more than just notes upon the page. He plays with tempo in places to address the conclusion of phrases, but nothing is done in excess. It’s really very fine playing all around.
There are, however, a few tempo choices Alard has chosen which I felt were lacking in drive. There are not many, for sure, and I don’t want to accused of calling him a fan of a slow metronome.
What the reader should decide is if this whole approach to Bach is your cup of tea. And that’s the choice we have in 2022. There is an approach that says, in short, I won’t add anything that’s not part of the text. I know a few who might consider Alard’s whole approach to this series, not only this latest release, as a little too careful and conservative for their liking. I like that there are musicians today who are using an historical sound world as their reference for interpretation. We need that, even if it can’t be verified.
This is, of course, what I said earlier Alard may have set out to do: create an HIPP reference set. And that’s how I think we could consider his recordings. There are however so many delicious alternatives recorded by others, especially of the WTC 1, that push the boundaries in speed, articulation, and even the instrument(s) that are used. The prelude in d, BWV 926, is a great example of what I’m talking about. It’s dressed discreetly until the end, when a flight of fancy is found on the page. Alard can let loose, but he does so only when the text presents that opportunity.
Left on a remote island with a limited choice of discs, I probably would choose a WTC that pushed more boundaries. For fun, not that long ago, I finally colored by hair blue after wanting to try it since college. It’s the part that makes me who I am.
Luckily, we have a modern reference collection done right and helps ground us. There’s nothing wrong with having a few bright-colored alternatives at the ready alongside this neatly coiffed one by Alard.
