April 24: Harpsichord Works; Pierre Hantaï, harpsichord
Doing the deep work.
Bach is the composer I’ve listened to the most, and I feel like I’ve attained only a surface level understanding of what he got himself up to.
Horn-tooting time: I’m pretty good at listening to people and to music. I’ve had success in business and have some challenging guitar pieces under my fingers. My family seems to like me, thank God. In my middle age, I feel like I’ve achieved a level of “good-enough” at many of the things I find important.
The rub, though, is that I have a streak of envy for artists. Professional musicians — by necessity — have focused on just one thing: grinding their technical chops and formulating an essential, deeply personal musicality.
You cannot half-ass playing Bach.
And then, to achieve true greatness, you need to have something unique to say about compositions that have been worked over for a dozen generations.
To make matters worse, in the 21st century, there are very few golden chests at the top of Bach Mountain. Why bother scaling it?
The miracle is that there are so many who do it anyway. I’m jealous of their skill and their drive. How do they barrel through bouts of futility and fend off internal and external naysayers?
What a gift they’ve given to everyone, and how few of us know how to accept it. You readers are here with me on the receiving line.
In a recent email, pianist Evan Shinners praised the recordings of Pierre Hantaï. Holy crap, another person whose talent and interpretive skill is off the charts. How many hours has Pierre spent deep inside these scores and his own psyche?
Here’s our pensive Frenchman:
What a player this guy is. I don’t quite understand what makes his approach work so well, but it may be that his hands are often not quite together while he’s playing highly articulated phrases. He creates an illusion of inviting us to be present for two (or three or four) simultaneously occurring stories.
Here are too many highlights from this highly recommended 1997 recording on the Erato label. (Apple Music, Spotify.) This album features BWV’s 894, 903, 911-5, 917, 923, 944, 951, 964, 996, and 999.
The E Minor Suite BWV 996 is often covered by guitarists — I’ve often mentioned how Segovia’s All-Bach Program was one of my gateways into Bach’s music.
Hantai digs in to the opening:
I didn’t realize I could sing every note of the Allemande. (I’d played this on guitar long ago).
The Bourree is a super famous advanced beginner classical guitar piece:
The fugue of BWV 914 gets rip roaring in its last minute:
The final movement of the G Minor Toccata BWV 915 opens with a funky chicken sort of dance:
Another famous guitar-able piece is BWV 999, played beautifully by Hantai; this is pretty much impossible to excerpt, every note is necessary to get to the end.
Here’s Segovia, playing faster, and in a different key:
I like the unnerving, descending chromatic lines of the Second Movement of the D Minor Sonata BWV 964, which get repeated internally:
That descent leads up to a big slam a few minutes later (0:08 in the clip below). This is awesome harpsichord playing (never thought I’d write that):
Is this a famous famous melody in the Andante? It either is or it could be.
I’ve heard the Allegro arranged for solo guitar and violin. It works on harpsichord, too.
The D Major Toccata BWV 912 has plenty of zing.
These concluding bits from The A Minor Fugue BWV 894 are killing. It’s good enough that you almost forget the harpsichordiness of it all:
Tres bien, Pierre! Here’s our man in action, about 20 years after the recording we’ve reviewed. What a full sound he gets out of that little ornamented box. Another gift for all of us.
Bonus Bach:
I covered this organ prelude in a post reviewing the work of Helmut Walcha. BWV 543 didn’t strike me as particularly memorable, but then Henry Oliver pointed to this recording by a teenage Byron Janis that is absolutely incredible. This is the only time I’ve heard of Janis playing Bach. Walcha feels asleep at the wheel next to Janis here. Ten stars, have a listen:
I used to listen to that recording while reading depressive poets William Cowper's letters, which was quite a ride.
Look forward to your posts, it's a moment of reflection and appreciation during the day. I've loved Bach since I was maybe 10 years old, looking forward to hearing more of my favorites! When you do the "Little Fugue", would love to hear what you think of the Virgil Fox version.