Previous volumes of
this mammoth set comprising all the
keyboard sonatas of Domenico Scarlatti
have been almost unreservedly well received.
Over 550 individual pieces are presented
by Richard Lester on Nimbus – see the
outline
prospectus on their site. Releases
have gone pretty much to schedule too;
only Volume VII (three CDs of ‘Appendices
& Diversities’) now remains to be
made available.
The designation of
Volumes – as ‘Venice XIV’ (1742) and
‘Venice XV’ (1749) – reflects the collection
of manuscript books into which the works
were bound. They were all to be found
in the Biblioteca Marciana in Venice
after the composer’s death. This CD
in some ways begins the ‘mopping up’
process, containing works from earlier
in the composer’s life. From the moment
you put the first CD of this sixth volume
in the player, though, you’re struck
by the variety, invention and delightful
beauty of both the keyboard medium as
developed by Scarlatti and the treasures
each piece contains.
Lester shows no signs
of tiring. He finds depth, novelty and
sensitively explored detail in each
work … listen to the metrical vigour
and gentle pathos of K46, for example.
Each new phrase – although very typical
of the composer – is played in such
a way that it expresses the composer’s
cumulative thoughts and sense of architecture.
By the time it’s over, you realise how
closely performer has communicated just
what composer wanted to convey: a gentle
passion, confidence, an almost visual
progression. Sonatas range in length
from under two minutes to seven, though
K104 is over ten and a half minutes
long. Although the sequence of sonatas
as presented here is varied, so mixed
in texture, rhythm, melody, pace, harmony
and tonal originality was Scarlatti’s
palette,
that you don’t feel the need for a ‘change’.
Scarlatti wrote the
works for his pupil, princess (then
queen) Maria Barbara, over many years
during his time at the court of King
João V in Portugal. The current
set (Volume VI) contains works from
just these two volumes (XIV – discs
1, 2 and 3 and XV discs 4, 5 and 6).
It seems more than likely - according
to contemporary sources and the appended
early dates (1742, 1749) – that these
volumes stand separate from the main
thirteen Volumes. It’s also probable
that they also contain earlier music
written (and compiled or collected?)
not long after the simpler ‘Esercizi’
towards the start of the relationship
between Scarlatti and Maria Barbara.
True, some of the music
is noticeably easy. But by no means
all. Significantly, such sonatas as
K61, 63, 64, 72, 74, 75, 79, 82 and
85 show an expectedly strong Italian
influence: Scarlatti was born in Naples.
While K58 and 60 display his highly
competent fugue writing. One of the
characteristics for which Scarlatti
is best known in this highly coloured
instrumental repertoire is its exuberance
and almost ‘wild’ leaps and vibrant
ornamentation. Such virtuosic composition
is evident throughout this set - in
such sonatas as K53, 54, 56, 57, 108,
113 and 120 – the latter almost manic
in complexity and, frankly, unlikely
to have been within the grasp of the
young princess.
As with a high proportion
of all these sonatas of Scarlatti, the
dance is never far away – in this case
often Flamenco; it’s there not only
in rhythms and chordal effects, but
also as guitar sounds. Lester goes into
some detail in his accompanying notes
about such techniques current at the
time, and how they were reproduced (or,
better perhaps, reflected) in his approach
to this recording.
Venice XV contains
some of the more demanding pieces, and
the most profound. K126 has a lachrymose
despondency rather atypical of the generally
upbeat feelings in which Scarlatti is
most at home.
It almost goes without
saying that the playing in this set
is well up to that of the other CD sets
in the series. Lester is adventurous
where experiment is needed; he holds
back when restraint aids interpretation,
and has a lightness of touch that is
most persuasive. Significantly he never
varnishes the surface of the music.
It could easily be spoilt by cloying
effects for the sake of it. That’s quite
a temptation given the huge variety
of atmospheres Scarlatti creates. It’s
resisted at all times by Lester, whose
style is more classical than romantic.
Above all, he plays
with a consistent clarity and attention
to detail – every phrase is articulated
in crystalline fashion. Yet there is
no labouring of Scarlatti’s ideas or
technique; no self-conscious drawing
of attention to the act of navigating
around the keyboard with just ten fingers:
it’s the musicality, the invention,
the fully digested sense of sound that
remains. Let K48, a beautiful C Minor
presto, start by ‘charming’ you (falsely,
superficially) with its repeated rhythms
and ostinato arpeggio figures. But at
the end you’ll feel the (truer because
deeper) sense of a thoroughly composed
miniature lacking nothing. To convey
this without fuss or frills is Lester’s
achievement.
For comparison, collectors
of this repertoire should look first
at Scott
Ross's set on Warner Classics (62092);
next would be Dantone on separate CDs
from Stradivarius; Naxos’s as yet incomplete
selection by a different performer for
each CD could also be considered. Then
Pieter-Jan
Belder is in the process of releasing
a complete cycle on Brilliant Classics
in sets of three CDs; ten volumes are
so far available. Yet this Nimbus collection
is remarkably economically priced and
still remains the best way to acquire
and then enjoy this wonderful music
in its entirety.
Again the harpsichord
used by Lester is one built by Michael
Cole after José Joachim - Lisbon
(1785) with A tuned to 415, Valotti;
it’s a clean, ample-sounding instrument,
closely recorded and with perhaps a
little too dampened an ambience. But
as a result one is able to concentrate
exclusively on the essence of the music.
To dispense with the
minor misgivings, it should be mentioned
that the notes which come with the CDs
are somewhat slim and give but a hint
of the wealth of background that could
have been adduced in support of what
Richard Lester has turned his attention
to over recent years in making these
recordings.
Even normal use of
the plastic casing in which the CDs
are supplied - they’re the kind which
cantilever double-backed CDs in a four
or five-page ‘book’ style ‘open-out’
case - reveals their fragility. The
‘pillar hinges’ are apt to snap. When
this happens in combination with damage
to the central CD-holder hole mechanism,
CDs can slip and become trapped in the
other flimsily half-attached plastic
holders. Care is needed.
But each of these is
a small price to pay for a set – now
only one (shorter) volume to go to completion
– which seems likely to stand the test
of time for its variety, expert playing,
scope and for the undaunted and imaginative
way Lester (and colleagues on Volume
V) tackle the music.
Mark Sealey
Richard Lester (harpsichord and fortepiano)
