The numbering in the
heading refers to Musica Britannica
volume 20 which contains all Gibbons’
keyboard music. This first release on
CD of Christopher Hogwood’s 1975 L’Oiseau-Lyre
LP features 22 pieces, about half Gibbons’
keyboard output, a representative selection
of his range. Eight were first recordings
(MB1, 4, 17, 22, 23, 33, 37 and 40).
Since then there have been comparably
dedicated CDs recorded by Richard Egarr
in 1997 (Globe GLO 5168), James Johnstone
in 1998 (ASV Gaudeamus CDGAU 191) and
John Toll in 1999-2000 (Linn CDK 125).
I shall make comparisons with these
later, but Hogwood’s survey has two
advantages. First, he uses restored
historic instruments rather than modern
copies. I personally prefer these because
I feel they have the patina of maturity,
though this may be ‘in the mind’. Second,
Hogwood uses three instruments whereas
the others use only two, so he gains
more variety of tone.
Hogwood begins with
a cabinet organ, a chamber variety that
fits in a cabinet in a relatively domestic
environment. A pity there are no photographs
of the instruments featured on this
CD. This one was made by Bernard Smith
in 1643 and has a bright and pert tone
which suits the tersely argued melodic
and rhythmic thrust of the Fantasia
in A minor, no. 1, MB10. The second
and third parts’ imitation of the opening
motif comes very quickly (tr. 1 0:05
and 0:10) so the clarity of the small
organ is beneficial. Only when the structure
is firmly established does Gibbons introduce
flourishes of semiquaver passage-work
(1:23).
The Fantasia in D minor,
no. 3, MB8 (tr. 2 1:07) has a more arresting
opening motif, imitated at slightly
greater distance (1:12, 1:29) and more
descant melodic material. It later briefly
flowers forth in demisemiquaver figures
(2:29) before a jauntier closing section
(3:20). The Fantasia of four parts,
MB12, is more ruminative in its denser
texture than the usual three. This results
in more audible action noise from the
organ yet doesn’t mar appreciation of
a piece that gradually glows more from
within. Again latterly the fantasia
becomes livelier (tr. 8 4:29) though
Hogwood keeps it on a serene even keel.
The organ is also featured
in two brief voluntaries. A Fancy, MB3
(tr. 2) is a simple, well crafted, reflective
piece. Its separate timing isn’t given
on the cd or therefore the heading but
is 1:04. The Verse, MB4 (tr. 8), even
shorter with a separate timing of 0:50,
is equally uncomplicated but more inward.
Hogwood’s second instrument
is an Italian spinet listed on the CD
as from about 1590. This is Queen Elizabeth’s
Virginals, so called because it bears
her personal coat of arms. Several photographs
may be viewed on the Victoria and Albert
Museum website where it’s thought the
instrument dates from about 1570 and
was made by Benedictus Florianus of
Venice. The sound comes as quite a surprise
after the clean tones of the chamber
organ. It’s much more petite, like the
instrument, but very lithe. The Queen’s
Command, not composed for its owner
but another Elizabeth, James I’s daughter,
is a lot of fun. A perky little tune
is immediately followed by an elaborated
version, a pattern followed throughout.
Its second section (tr. 3 0:20) leaps
merrily and its third (0:41) takes off
in semiquaver runs. On this instrument
it’s all gently sparkling.
The following Pavan
in A minor, MB17, brings to the fore
its closeness to the lute. This might
be Julian Bream playing Dowland, especially
given the opening reference to his Lachrymae
Pavan, save that the texture, mainly
in 4 parts, is more complex for this
idealized dance. It’s eloquent in expression,
sober in pulse and finds pathos in the
gently descending sequences of the second
section (0:50). The Galliard in D minor,
no. 3, MB23 makes a suitable partner
with its brightness of a sallow kind
and a more reflective vein than most.
In his scholarly but to the point booklet
notes Hogwood shows how Gibbons quotes
and creatively extends the tune The
woods so wild in its second section.
The Ground, MB26 is
elegantly melodious, ingeniously constructed
with the foundation decorated and not
plainly discernible until the fifth
section (tr. 5 1:21) when unadorned
beneath a dazzling crust of semiquaver
runs. Hogwood presents it with calm
assurance and the spinet scintillates.
The Italian Ground is a more
stolid affair, the bass firmly supporting
the highjinks above. But the low tessitura
much of the time makes the piece rather
dour.
The Alman in D minor,
MB33 is neat, clean lined and slightly
wistful in Hogwood’s hands, with decorous
ornamentation at the repeat of the closing
cadence. The Coranto in D minor, no.
2, MB40 is more florid, the whole repeated
rather than section by section, allowing
more readily appreciation of its craftsmanship.
And it’s good that this is done as this
remains the only recording of this piece.
With the Prelude in
A minor, no. 1, MB1 comes Hogwood’s
third instrument, a signed Jan Ruckers
harpsichord dated 1634 which may be
an English fake of a later date. Whatever
its origin, this is a stunning sounding
instrument. Its shimmering tone comes
as an impressive bolt from the blue
for this toccata like virtuoso display
piece. A vivid illustration why Gibbons
as a performer of his own music was
called ‘the best Finger of that Age’.
To ensure you catch
the distinction between spinet and harpsichord
Hogwood gives a second performance of
The Queen’s Command, this time
on harpsichord, to close the CD (tr.
14 1:10). The piece is now weightier
and grander. It’s lost its joie de vivre
but has gained resplendent majesty,
while Hogwood’s playing is pretty breathtaking
too.
The Pavan written in
memory of Lord Salisbury, probably the
best known and arguably finest of all,
has a stately breadth and dignity. Its
melodic progress seems satisfyingly
inevitable but a key ingredient is the
counterbalancing and often melodic role
of the left hand. This is the only Pavan
for which Gibbons composed a pairing
Galliard, developing from a lighter
variant of the same theme which takes
imaginative flight. The dance origin
has virtually vanished but in the repeat
of the second section (tr. 10 4:40)
the bass is spotlit for its character
and substance.
The Pavan in G minor,
MB16 is notable for its fittingly doleful
derivation from Dowland’s Lachrymae
Pavan at the opening, clearly illustrated
in Hogwood’s booklet notes. The focus
is then on embellishing the melody with
figuration in sequences divided between
the hands. Hogwood’s approach is that
of patiently unfolding, but the particularly
free flowing close of the repetition
of the third section (tr. 12 4:13) has
something of the effect of moving towards
a Galliard.
We get two more actual
Galliards. No. 1 in D minor, MB21 has
a courtly melody but the interest switches
in the repetitions of both sections
to the lively bass. No. 2 in D minor,
MB22 is inherently more flamboyant but
becomes ever more so as it progresses
in bravura and brilliance. Finally there
are examples showcasing Gibbons’ skill
in arranging familiar tunes of the day.
The Alman, The King’s Jewel is
very showy, the Alman in G, MB37 even
more so and rather flighty with it in
Hogwood’s adept treatment. Lincoln’s
Inn Masque is a jaunty dance
whose piping and skipping nature Hogwood
demonstrates robustly.
Now for the comparisons
flagged earlier. Only John Toll also
partly features an organ and a historic
one too, though he uses a modern harpsichord.
His organ is slightly later, that of
Adlington Hall, from about 1693, and
a fair deal larger. But its tone is
smoother, the effect more flute like
and the recording airier. As Toll consistently
takes a slightly more measured approach
than Hogwood, this emphasises the smoothness
to more meditative effect. For example
in the Fantasia MB8 Toll’s timing is
4:37 against Hogwood’s 3:58. Toll’s
progress is of a regal kind with assured
differentiation of melody and decoration,
a closing strength of deliberation and
affirmation, yet using the denser tone
of the larger organ with sensitivity.
Hogwood is more pert, crisper, more
exciting and structurally clearer, his
sense of climax more internal.
In the Fantasia MB10
Hogwood similarly shows more pacy earnestness
and bravura. In A Fancy, MB3 Toll is
more mellifluous but Hogwood is plainer
and arguably purer, less artful. A similar,
calmer, more pristine quality is found
in Hogwood’s Verse MB4 in comparison
with the smoother Toll.
However, in the Fantasia
of four parts Toll, now playing a harpsichord,
is a little faster, 5:13 against Hogwood’s
5:37. Toll begins in a clear, sedate
manner of patient distillation, only
to become much more urgent and climactic
at the point mentioned earlier when
Hogwood becomes livelier. The use of
organ makes for a more majestic effect,
while Hogwood’s more consistent tempo
brings a compelling firmness of progression.
For the Pavan MB17,
I compared Richard Egarr whose timing
of 4:21 looks much slower than Hogwood’s
2:49. But in fact it’s faster, being
in effect 2:10 as Egarr follows the
MB editor’s suggestion to repeat the
sections. This also allows him further
variation such as a little more ornamentation
in the repeat of the first section and
playing that of the final section more
reflectively, as a kind of farewell.
But I prefer Hogwood’s more sober, careful
measure and clear exposition without
the repeats which Hogwood’s booklet
note strongly argues against. Egarr
plays on a harpsichord in this piece
which is a little denser in tone than
Hogwood’s spinet. More strikingly diverse
is the muselar, another mini-harpsichord
like Hogwood’s spinet but of different
construction, which Egarr uses for the
Galliard MB23. This has a juicier, more
melodious sound and the effect of Egarr’s
performance is altogether daintier,
even slightly chintzy. Hogwood is structurally
firmer and gradually reveals more zip
in this galliard, albeit decorously
applied. Indeed the repeat of the final
section (tr. 4 4:32) threatens to take
off.
In the Pavan and
Galliard Lord Salisbury I
compared James Johnstone. In the Pavan
Johnstone accepts the MB editor’s suggestion
to repeat the sections and does so with
a little tastefully additional ornamentation.
He is very stately and deliberate, rather
more rich than sober and at times appearing
frozen in time with no will to progress,
though the final section becomes more
dramatic. Johnstone’s Galliard, on the
other hand, is all vibrant attack and
steely, aggressive scintillation, gripping
but not easy to live with.
Hogwood’s Salisbury
Pavan, without repeats, maintains a
fine balance between dignity and the
illusion of purposeful movement while
the progress of the melodic line is
also thereby clearer. That line is still
firmly on show in a scrupulously balanced
Galliard.
Johnstone brings a
well judged breadth to the Pavan MB16
so it’s contemplative without being
over solemn. He clearly demonstrates
how the written out repetitions are
ornamental versions. His fine pacing
lets the melody appear to hang in the
air without losing shape. Hogwood uses
a softer registration, to more elegiac
effect. His smoother phrasing makes
for a more poetic, beautifully sorrowing
progress. Egarr’s stands back and savours
the Galliard MB22 in all its intricacy
and ornament, lively and firmly structured.
Hogwood brings more crisp immediacy
and involvement while still securely
revealing the structure.
Egarr’s Ground MB26
is delightful in its own way: pretty,
melodious and with something of the
character of a musical box. Hogwood
is still lute like but with more sinewy
resilience in the internal echoes of
the plentiful imitative writing. Johnstone
makes The Italian Ground, played
on the harpsichord, stirring, knock-’em-for-six
stuff. Hogwood on the spinet is more
contained yet still melodically and
rhythmically satisfying.
Egarr offers appreciable
delicacy in the Alman MB33 but Hogwood
shows a lighter, more pointed dance
vivacity. Johnstone’s performance of
another Alman, The King’s Jewel
is forthright and enjoys the intricacy
of its ornamentation but Hogwood is
pacier, 2:10 against 2:46, and gloriously
revels in the sheer confident take-up
of the tune. In the Alman MB37 Egarr
is sweetly reflective with quiet, reposeful
detail. But again the pacier Hogwood,
1:29 against 2:07, finds more vivacity,
albeit of a smiling, benign type.
This same contrast
in pace can be observed in the Prelude
MB1, where Hogwood’s 1:38 finds more
nervous energy and swashbuckling excitement
in comparison with Toll’s 1:55 of impressive,
calm fluency but abstaining from drama.
A word on the recordings.
The instruments on this Hogwood CD,
in the fashion of the time, are closely
recorded. This makes for great vividness
of sound but neutralizing of acoustic.
The other CDs provide more air around
their instruments and a more natural
ambience. That said, this analogue recording
has scrubbed up well in its digital
remastering and the sound isn’t an issue.
To sum up, this is
the classic recording of Gibbons’ keyboard
music with playing unsurpassed by its
successors. The performances have considerable
élan yet still honour the music’s
essential balance. Registrations are
cited for all the organ and harpsichord
items. The total timing of 53:20, short
measure by today’s standards, is simply
that of the original LP. It’s offset
by the reasonably modest price.
Michael Greenhalgh
for
details
Christopher Hogwood (1cabinet organ,
2Italian spinet, 3harpsichord)
