Mystères • Salomé Gasselin
What is this album?
Quickly: arrangements for viol da gamba, gambas, and organ, featuring—among some anonymous pieces—works by Johann Sebastian Bach and Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber. It’s an extraordinary album. Perhaps the most ideal one to have spent the day with this past Friday—on Bach’s birthday.
Come on now, what better pairing might there ever be? The liner notes would have been upgraded by labeling the pictures of the artists (to know who is who), and the instrumentarium listing doesn’t tell us who played what.
They not only perform some of Bach’s most beautiful music—they do it extremely well. If this album were a meal served at a restaurant, you’d be compelled to tip your waitress or waiter an obscene amount. Yes, you might regret it after the wine has worn off, but you’d feel totally justified in dropping them a substantial thank-you in monetary terms.
Bach’s Second Suite for Cello (BWV 1008)
Some years ago, Paolo Pandolfo recorded the Bach cello suites on gamba, and I enjoyed that recital very much. Not only was it the sound of the gamba, but also his playing style.
Gasselin presents the entire suite here, and there’s a grit to her instrument’s sound, which also has a nice roundness to it. She plays an original instrument and overall, it’s a good-sounding viol. There are some nice moments in the Prelude with articulation and that characteristic bowed gamba sound that I like. It was even more palpable re-listening to this album on headphones.
My favorite two movements are the Courante and Sarabande. She approaches the Courante somewhat carefully at the first read. In the repeat, some of her attacks are a little more forceful. There’s an ultimately relaxed feel to her performance, one that carries over to the final Gigue. Dynamically, she retreats in the Sarabande, but damn, she knows how to juice some of the chords. In the repeat of the first half—yeah—she goes off a bit, which, of course, is how it’s to be done. However much she takes away from the original text, we’re with her; she’s hooked us already with her tempo and small doses of rubato. In the last statement of the second half, she plays a few notes that some cellists have altered (taken up a half step), and each time I heard it, it stood out to me. I like the solution here.
Biber Sonatina and Passacaglia (Guardian Angel)
I picked up a detail in the liner notes that I did not know—that Biber’s music for gamba was destroyed in the 18th century in a fire. And here I’d always wondered why his principal instrument didn’t come with music written for it! The piece presented in track 11 is assumed to be by Biber. To my ears, this piece is sensitively played, with plenty of fodder in stylo phantasticus format to keep us interested. The outburst ahead of the three-minute mark? Yeah. The low note rendered afterward on the double bass? Rich. But maybe not as much as the end. Splendid!
Quite a few tracks on this album are arrangements, including Gasselin’s solo presentation of Biber’s last work in his Rosary Sonatas collection. I enjoyed hearing the artist’s recollection of this piece being played once in a church and promising herself that she’d one day record this on her own instrument. She makes a convincing case for it being realized by a viol da gamba.
There’s a sweetness in Gasselin’s tone that comes out in her instrument’s higher register, which is nice. All of her transitions across the strings from the lower notes to the high are clean. The rising figures around 4 minutes in? And how the energy builds just so? It reveals to me that Gasselin is someone who is listening to what she’s playing. It’s a ludicrous thing to say, I know, but she responds to the music. I can’t believe how many times I listen to recordings where I have to question whether or not the players are responding to the magic of typically harmonic and sometimes rhythmic aspects of the music. It leaves me thinking they prefer to be slaves to a metronome rather than pause or speed up a bit and relish those opportune, beautiful moments left for us.
The declaration after 7 minutes, brought to life with a good dose of drama? Yes! This is being a rhetorical player. I could have gone for a little more tempo around 8:00–8:30, but her solution still works. Love the dig into the lower register before the ultimate conclusion. This is so well done. I hope other gambists take this piece up after hearing her performance. It works well.
Bach pieces: Pièce d’orgue (Fantasia) BWV 572, Fantasia BWV 997.1, Trio Sonata BWV 528.2, Chorale Prelude BWV 601
The G major Fantasia opens with solo gamba. The repeated figure sits well on the instrument, and of all this music, the repeated figure seems to work best when bathed in good reverberations. It’s also a great opening to the album.
Then the lead-in to the Gravement? Did you think she was going for that high note? The texture and richness of the second movement with more players is as delicious as music gets. As a wind player, my own interpretation of music is caught up in breath, and here, I feel that approach with regard to their phrasing. The highest voice sings in this texture. I don’t know how anyone couldn’t be smiling throughout this entire track.
That rumble from the double bass in the last movement? Yeah… a special treat for those with systems that reproduce the lowest frequencies well. I dare say they improved Bach’s own work with this arrangement.
The Prelude from the lute suite BWV 997 sits well between two gambas. Despite adopting a slower tempo, the pulse is still viably felt by the audience. The two instruments used here are a luxury in terms of their timbre and how they work together. This short piece is less than four minutes long, but there’s a whole world of pleasure contained within. Again, I think the arrangement here is an improvement over the original.
As if the aforementioned piece couldn’t be improved upon, they next give us the slow movement from Bach’s E minor Trio Sonata for organ (BWV 528). Readers may recognize my love for this work. Including the organ here was a nice touch sonically. After 1:10? I’m not ashamed to tell you I teared up the first time hearing it. The music is so simple, but so profoundly rich. Adding to its beauty is the timbre of the gambas. I’m in love with this track.
The last track of the album comes from Bach’s Little Organ Book, quoting Herr Christ, der eigne Gottessohn. All that texture that comes after the initial statement, with multiple gambas, creates a rich and crunchy texture that I can’t get enough of. The piece ultimately conveys hope and goodwill—at least to my ears. The hymn is one of Lutheranism’s oldest, having been set not only by Bach but by Sweelinck, Buxtehude, and Telemann. The piece is similar to an older tune, “My Joy Will Increase,” from the mid-1400s, which, for me, speaks to the uplifting character of this arrangement each time I play it.
Conclusion
I’d like to say that this album would be sitting at the top of a stack of CDs that I’d grab with me if I were destined to live out my years on a solitary island—one that hopefully would come with good headphones and a CD player.
Wow. I’ve said enough. Please listen—stream, purchase, however you get your music—and set aside some quality time for yourself and maybe those other music lovers in your life to spend some time with this album.
The programming, arrangements, and just the beautiful sounds these instruments make together come here to make an extraordinary impact on me. I hope it does the same for you.
