Stephen Farr records keyboard works by Gibbons
Orlando Gibbons stands as a bridge between Renaissance and Baroque music, composing vocal works, consort pieces, and, as featured on this new album from organist Stephen Farr, music for organ and virginals. I auditioned this album from Resonus via Qobuz in high resolution with headphones, though without access to a booklet.
Sound and Instrumentation
The recording captures the organ beautifully, and the dynamic contrast between organ and harpsichord is realistic, reinforcing the impact each instrument has in its acoustic setting. The clarity of both instruments enhances our perception of Gibbons’ intricate textures.
Understanding Gibbons’ Style
Prior to this album, I had not studied Gibbons’ keyboard music in depth, especially in comparison to contemporaries like William Byrd and John Bull. His harmonic language is strikingly distinct, sometimes withholding major or minor thirds in ways that maintain a modal ambiguity. Canadian pianist Glenn Gould famously admired Gibbons, and one of the works he championed, the Lord Salisbury’s Galliard, stands out in this recording. The harmonic framework and perfect fifths in the left hand create an air of mystery, while ornamental flourishes add character.
Gibbons’ Peascod Time or The Hunt’s Up (MB 30), the album’s longest harpsichord work, exemplifies his approach to variation form. Byrd also set the same folk tune, linked to songs sung during the pea harvest. Gibbons develops the melody with striking virtuosity, shifting melodic material between hands and maintaining tight contrapuntal coordination. Farr delivers a precise and agile performance, never overexerted but always transparent.
Ornamentation and Harmonic Sophistication
In Fantasia MB 12, Gibbons’ handling of counterpoint is engaging, with the subject evolving in unexpected ways. His use of ornamentation stands out—unlike later Baroque composers who typically place embellishments at cadential points, Gibbons introduces them more unpredictably. The effect is both playful and structurally integral, weaving ornaments seamlessly into his contrapuntal textures.
The Pavan MB 16 highlights another crucial aspect of Gibbons’ style: the impact of tuning. The tension in certain harmonic progressions is heightened, only to be relieved at cadences with “pure” intervallic resolution. Without liner notes, I can’t confirm Farr’s tuning system, but it seems carefully chosen to preserve Gibbons’ intended harmonic colors—subtleties that would be lost on a modern piano.
The vocal influence in Gibbons’ writing is evident, especially in Fantasia MB 9, where the opening resembles polyphonic choral textures before transitioning into more idiomatic keyboard writing. Midway, Gibbons presents a cadence that momentarily suggests resolution, only to launch into a new idea with the left hand, sustaining momentum. The conclusion mirrors the austere opening, exemplifying his skill in transforming sparse material into rich musical landscapes.
Comparisons and Interpretations
The album closes with another Fantasia (MB 9), this time on organ. Gibbons’ fantasias differ significantly from the later Baroque models; under Farr’s hands, they retain a steady tempo without the expressive rubato heard in later interpretations of the genre. Gibbons’ method of subject development—where a theme is transformed rather than merely repeated—links him to Renaissance polyphony while hinting at the Baroque’s growing emphasis on thematic evolution. His subjects, though distinctive, lack the rhythmic drive of Bach’s fugues, making them more texturally fluid than structurally rigid.
Comparing interpretations, I revisited Glenn Gould’s 1971 recording of Lord Salisbury’s Pavan and Galliard. While not historically informed, Gould’s playing emphasizes vertical harmonies over contrapuntal flow, aligning with his analytical approach to polyphony. Gustav Leonhardt, in the recording rescued by Skip Sempé on his Paradizio-label recording, takes faster tempi than Farr. I like Leonhardt’s tempo choices, in some cases adapting swifter tempi than Farr. While some pieces in this new recording might have benefited from a slight push in tempo, Farr’s approach prioritizes clarity, avoiding excessive reverb that could blur the counterpoint.
Final Thoughts
Listening to this album deepened my appreciation for Gibbons’ contrapuntal craft and his ability to sustain musical momentum through inventive variations. Farr’s restrained approach allows Gibbons’ voice to emerge clearly, though at times I wished for a more interpretative imprint. This might, however, be the right decision—letting the subtle inflections, unexpected ornaments, and occasional bursts of virtuosity define Gibbons’ character rather than imposing an external narrative.
For listeners new to Gibbons, I recommend taking this album in small doses. His music demands focus rather than washing over the listener. Following along with a score can illuminate his counterpoint’s intricacies. While not a “complete” survey of Gibbons’ keyboard output, this album is an ample introduction, thoughtfully performed and recorded.
