Comparison recommended recordings
for harpsichord:
George Malcolm, In Nomines, Fantasia
in d. Electrola LP
Anthony Newman, Walsingham CBS LP
John Bull was, in a
sense, the Prokofiev of the Elizabethan
era. Like Prokofiev his beauty lay in
hardness, wit, even sarcasm. But how
do we reconcile this with the story
that he left England forever one step
ahead of the sheriff for getting caught
with his hand up the wrong skirt? Like
Prokofiev he left his native land, unlike
Prokofiev he never returned. And how
do we reconcile his exile with the likelihood
that he is the man who wrote God
Save the Queen? Over Morley, Byrd,
Farnaby, Tallis, Peerson, we laugh,
we weep and we love. But by Bull we
are startled, amazed, even annoyed.
Yet he wrote the most genially pompous
of self satires. He is a bad boy and
he does not repent. Yet he is the ultimate
patriot, whose name became the very
symbol of the land he could not keep.
Walsingham is the very
first piece in the Fitzwilliam Virginal
Book; it was this music that
convinced Francis Tregian that he would
be better to start writing down his
favorite pieces. Anthony Newman takes
it at his usual supersonic speed, relatively
easy on a harpsichord. Siegbert Rampe
displays his steel fingers by playing
on a tracker organ a piece which is
difficult enough for ordinary mortals
on the harpsichord. George Malcolm and
I think his tempo on the great In
Nomine in d is too fast, yet it
is interesting to hear it run through
like this. At least when Rampe plays
fast he still plays with passion. Even
though his harpsichord technique is
very French, he never loses touch with
the backbone of the music. The tone
of his instruments is always sensual.
George Malcolm’s harpsichord
performances of the Fantasia in d
and the great In Nomine are among
the great recorded keyboard performances
of the twentieth century. Rampe tries
a whole different approach on the organ
and does very well with it. Rampe’s
clavichord technique, however excellent,
is unfortunately marred by his pianoforte
studies. Someone should tell him you
cannot bang on a clavichord, and you
don’t set speed records on a clavichord.
A clavichord must be approached more
as a koto would be approached. A clavichord
must be caressed like a lover and teased,
tickled, and coaxed into singing. And
the resources of bebung open
a limitless universe of expression,
whereas neither Rampe nor the amazing
Derek Adlam take so much as a single
step into that universe. Gentlemen,
be more humble in the presence of the
clavichord. You have not mastered it,
you are still beginners, still apprentices.
True, no one since the death of Bach
has climbed so high as you, but you
have a long way to go before you reach
the summit.
Also I question the
tendency to describe these pieces as
being in, for example, C major or D
minor when their composers and their
intended audience may have more likely
considered them to be in the various
modes. Perhaps the mode numbers should
be used instead, or at least footnoted.
This may not mean anything to prospective
listeners, but it makes a great difference
to one who would perform the music.
Paul Shoemaker