Nevermind performs Bach's Goldberg Variations
Introduction
This album marks the ten year anniversary of the quartet of French musicians known as Nevermind. I have enjoyed their discs before and marvel how well they play together. The remarkable thing is that no one musician, I’ve felt, dominates the others. Instead, they operate as a group. That approach is merited especially here, as the musicians may want to convey this music as if it’s being played by a single keyboard player.
I was surprised to see this release, after Jean Rondeau already released his own recording of the Aria with thirty variations. And it’s not new to arrange these works. Probably the first one I came across had clouds on the cover, and a quick search reveals I am right: the arrangement by Dmitry Sitkovetsky was released in 1995. Among my own collection, I have the version arranged for viols by Fretwork. That version was released in 2011 on Harmonia Mundi, and arranged by Richard Boothby. Another one I have lived with for some time and spun several dozen times is the jazz arrangement by the Jacques Loussier Trio.
The Fretwork production is 90 minutes; the one by Nevermind is 98, both productions requiring two discs. In this case, repeats are taken, but Nevermind slow a few of the variations down. At first this bothered me, but upon repeated listens? I think they made the right choice. I’ll point out a few of the spots below.
Nevermind of course are composed of a harpsichordist, flautist, gamba player, and violinist. The excellent liner notes explain that an arrangement using this combination thus far hasn’t been done; in this case, the entire ensemble takes credit for the arrangement, with the leads going to Robin Pharo (gamba) and Jean Rondeau (organ and harpsichord). They go to lengths to describe the models they considered when trying to write something that would not have been foreign to Bach.
Sound color-wise, I think they accomplish something that yes, would have sounded legitimate in Bach’s time, using, obviously, instruments from the period. But the part I often find funny when ensembles take to arranging keyboard pieces for ensembles is the lack of a basso continuo role for the keyboard. A great exemplar would be the trio sonata from Bach’s Musical Offering, BWV 1079. The piece could be realized by the Nevermind ensemble, correct? Flute, violin, and continuo, realized by harpsichord and gamba (although a cello is most often used).
Bach’s bass line doesn’t require a keyboard, but of course the harpsichord plays along with the cello and supports the chords indicated through figured bass numbers. There are some variations where this basso continuo practice is possible, and I they were each done well.
The Goldberg Variations (but also other keyboard pieces, including the Well-Tempered Clavier and the Art of Fugue) don’t need figured bass numbers. They are not ensemble pieces; instead they are written with enough indication of the harmonies through vertical and horizontal writing.
I point this out because it’s difficult to hear this music and think of it, say, as a trio or quartet in way that Bach (or his contemporaries) would have written this music, with a basso continuo. Which raises the question, how would Bach think of this enterprise, in arranging these keyboard variations for multiple instruments? While I can’t think of examples of him doing this, he did work in the opposite direction, right, by arranging Vivaldi’s or Marcello’s string concertos into a keyboard renditions.
That said, there are some opportunities for chordal projection, such as the “Overture” variation, number sixteen, where in this recording by Nevermind, Rondeau uses the harpsichord to “fill out” the harmonies in the role as a basso continuo player. The flavor of this treatment tickled my ears well.
The Performances
I need to start by sharing my love with Anna Besson’s sound. The fluteist’s performance is particularly captivating, although her presence is not featured in every track. Nonetheless, her contributions are a delightful treat, showcasing her seamless integration with her musical ensemble. And while she doesn’t play in every track, it’s a treat to hear her, and how she blends well with her colleagues. The group takes many tempos on the slower side, the seventeenth and eighteenth variations are but two examples, where we’d nearly expect a keyboard player to play faster than the musicians do here. But while my taste tends to favor the fast and fleeting, I enjoyed the opportunity to hear these variations on the slower side. It makes musical sense, and thankfully Alpha have done an excellent job with Aline Blondiau in capturing the quartet nicely supported by really ideal acoustics.
One of the things that makes the Goldberg Variations interesting as music how Bach systematically applies counterpoint methods such as a canon on top of the harmonic structure established through the Aria. Other examples include adopting the style of familiar dances, not to mention a French-style Overture to provide a formal framework to his writing. The ultimate challenge for himself was how he combines multiple popular songs together in the final variation (where else to place the cherry?) which isn’t a foreign idea (the first example likely coming from France in 1544), which we recognize as a quodlibet. Those who do not read music, or have the ability to keep the different voices Bach uses in his writing separate in their head may never realize that Bach is applying these structures born from counterpoint and when not, from dances.
One of the reasons I really enjoy hearing the Art of Fugue with instruments such as a string quartet is that I find it easier to appreciate the independence of the voices in Bach’s counterpoint. The work, here, really changes profoundly by being arranged for different voices. And just like the Art of Fugue, and what I appreciated too in the Goldberg recording by Fretwork, is how the color/timbre of instruments helps us appreciate Bach’s genius even more. In variation 22, Rondeau starts with the piece realized on the organ alone, then the other instruments come in. Hearing them each play their own line, it just allows us to hear this Alla breve in a new way.
In variation 23, the keyboard takes a break. The sensitivity each player has in playing this trio texture is palpable. Flute and violin play in tandem at the start in sync in a really delightful way, before the gamba joins. Their dynamics seem perfect here, and again, the acoustics of the Salle de Musique de La Chaux-de-Fonds, and how each instrument is easily heard independently yet reflected as it is, makes me think of a room bathed in early evening light that can make its interior feel warm and satisfying.
The opening Aria that opens this work is played with the flute playing the melody. The keyboard (here, the harpsichord) doesn’t play verbatim from the score, instead, providing support in a unique way, the gamba, providing the foundational support. I really like how Besson ornaments the line, providing significant variation in the repeats.
It’s a treat that they record the final Aria with an organ in place of the harpsichord, with the flute again leading. (And I wouldn’t have complained if they’d let their violinist, Louis Creac’h play the repeats!) But both renditions are exquisite.
One of the things beyond the performances here–which are technically assured throughout the recording—is the fine work the group did in creating the arrangements themselves. In the Fughetta, variation 10, it’s a nice nod to let the keyboard start, and then have the gamba fill in the next voice. The way all the instruments come in and get to “play” is so naturally done. Having done a lot of arranging in my past, especially so of Bach, it can be a real challenge when the instrument(s) you’re writing for don’t fit the range of the original. In the worst cases, you have to change the line, or give the note to another instrument, breaking the independence of lines.
While I didn’t have access to their arrangement, I can say without bias that I really think listeners of this recording should understand how well they did at the arrangement game. In the first variation, the left hand goes to the gamba, the right to the violin. It’s quite ideal. The harpsichord fills the texture in. The tempo is among the faster on the record, but it’s so natural sounding. The variation with ornaments in the repeats? Makes it all the more delicious. The smoothness of the Gigue melody in variation seven? The flute is so fat in its texture and smooth, a departure from the usual percussive pluck of the harpsichord; when the violin joins in it changes not only the timbre but adds support for the missing bite of articulation. Nice.
Final Thoughts
Typically I think about three things when reviewing a recording: how good is the music, how good is the performance, and how good is the quality of the recording? The music here of course is among Bach’s most famous works, but the reason this album stands out goes beyond the original score, it has something to do with the high quality of the arrangement these musicians have made. It’s well done. Really well done. I have said that above, but it’s part of the reason this album is so successful. The playing is expertly done, with variations in affect and dynamics. And as I mentioned, the ensemble really works as if everyone has their brains linked to the other. And finally, they are supported by great sound. In fact, it’s so good I’m going to add this to my “audiophile” playlist, where I have collected albums that just, well, sound amazing with my best equipment.
I was uncertain if Nevermind would surpass their Conversations album from some time ago, but it’s nice to think in this case they have. Riches to explore.
