The Dutch keyboard
player Ton Koopman once said he would
stop playing the organ if he wasn't
allowed to play Bach any more but he
would continue playing the harpsichord.
What he meant was that if Bach's organ
music is taken away from an organist
there is little left, whereas the repertoire
for the harpsichord is so huge that
even without playing Bach a harpsichordist
can find plenty of fine music. That
is certainly true: one has only to think
of Frescobaldi and many Italian composers
of the 17th century, Domenico Scarlatti,
Johann Jakob Froberger and the many
composers of harpsichord music in France
from the middle of the 17th to the end
of the 18th centuries. One of the towering
figures in the history of French harpsichord
music is François Couperin, whose
complete works for harpsichord have
here been recorded by the Israeli keyboard
player Michael Borgstede for Brilliant
Classics.
Thinking of it there
is every reason to compare Johann Sebastian
Bach and François Couperin. At
first sight there seem to be many differences:
the largest part of his life Bach worked
as a church musician in a city without
a royal court, whereas Couperin was
connected to the French court most of
his life. Bach was generally considered
old-fashioned, but Couperin was a forward-looking
composer whose own keyboard works reflect
the developments in composing in France
and the changing tastes of his audiences.
But there are also similarities: both
were born into musical families - although
Couperin's wasn't as extended as Bach's.
Both were educated as organists and
developed into great keyboard virtuosos,
both were looking for expression and
both, to that end, advocated a mixture
of the Italian and the French style,
which Couperin called the 'goût
réuni'. Nothing is known about
Couperin's acquaintance with Bach's
oeuvre, but Bach certainly knew and
appreciated Couperin's music. His pupil
Gerber stated that Bach's playing style
was influenced by Couperin. And Bach
copied a keyboard piece by the French
master and included it in the 'Notenbüchlein
für Anna Magdalena Bach'. As many
composers in the 19th and 20th century
were fascinated and inspired by Bach,
Couperin also raised the interest of
composers in later eras, like Debussy
and Ravel. And Brahms, who studied Bach's
music, also published the first modern
edition of Couperin's harpsichord works.
So there can be no
doubt about the quality and the historical
importance of Couperin's harpsichord
oeuvre. All the same there are not that
many complete recordings available.
One of the reasons is that his music
is not easy to interpret, and often
difficult to understand. Many pieces
have titles which are hardly understandable
to a modern performer or listener. To
their frustration the composer didn't
bother to reveal their meaning: "I have
always had a subject when composing
these pieces; different occasions have
provided it. Thus the titles relate
to ideas that have occurred to me, and
I shall be forgiven if I do not account
for them". As a result the titles are
interpreted in different ways by different
interpreters, and sometimes give cause
for speculation. For instance, Michael
Borgstede, in the programme notes, has
an interesting view on the 17e Ordre,
which opens with 'La Superbe ou la Forqueray',
which "is obviously a portrait of the
well-known gamba virtuoso Antoine Forqueray.
Forqueray was a proud and stubborn man,
who in later life would have his own
son thrown into prison out of pure jealousy.
Couperin's portrait fails to convince
us of his affection for his Super-Star
colleague. And could the Forqueray theme
be carried on throughout the ordre?
The 'Petits Moulins à Vent' may
parody, not little windmills as the
title at first glance may suggest, but
the egocentrist gambist's vigorous virtuosity."
And he suggests that the third piece,
'Les Timbres', is perhaps a way to express
that Forqueray was a bit mad.
Although Couperin's
music can be quite virtuosic the composer's
objective was expression: "I frankly
admit that I much prefer that which
moves me to that which amazes me." And:
"I shall always be grateful to those
who by unfettered ability supported
by good taste can make this instrument
capable of expression". And to that
end he required the utmost care from
the interpreter: "I am always surprised,
after the pains I have given myself
for marking the ornaments which are
suitable to my Pièces ... to
hear persons who have learned them without
heeding my instructions. This is an
unpardonable negligence, the more so
since it is not at all an arbitrary
matter to put in what ornaments one
wishes." And there are other tools Couperin
- like many composers of his time -
uses to express what he had in mind.
As Wilfred Mellers puts it: "The dissonant
sobs, the portamento sighs, the
haze of fioriture with which
the composer-virtuosi embellished their
dance-structures were not designed primarily
to exhibit technical skill; their purpose
was to make the instrument speak more
feelingly to an audience hyper-sensitively
aware of the complexities of the human
heart".
These "complexities
of the human heart" are impressively
displayed in the four books with harpsichord
pieces, divided into 27 Ordres, and
- together with the preludes in Couperin's
treatise 'L'Art de toucher le clavecin',
published in 1716 - reach the number
of 235. What becomes clear from this
large output is that Couperin was very
interested in the world which surrounded
him. A number of pieces reflect elements
of the popular culture, for instance
the circus. A good example is the 11e
Ordre, which contains a piece with the
mysterious title 'Les Fastes de la grande
et ancienne Mxnxstrxndxsx'. We meet
jugglers, acrobats, beggars, fiddlers,
bears and monkeys, and also disabled
people. That probably refers to the
habit of exhibiting that sort of people
in a kind of freak show. The present
sensitivity towards physical disabilities
didn't exist in those days. And while
Couperin may never have written an opera,
he was certainly interested in the theatre.
Some titles refer to then well-known
theatrical works, like 'Les Calotins
et les Calotines ou la Pièce
à tretous' (19e Ordre), inspired
by the play 'Le Régiment de Calotte'.
And 'Le Tic-Toc-Choc ou les Maillotins'
(18e Ordre) refers to a family of acrobats,
Maillot, working at the Foire theatre.
Some pieces are dramatic in character,
like 'La Dangereuse' (5e Ordre), or
programmatic, like a battle-scene (La
Triomphante, 10e Ordre) or a description
of the stages in human life (Les Petits
Ages, 7e Ordre).
In addition there are
many references to nature and the life
at the countryside. The 6e Ordre, for
instance, depicts 'Les Moissonneurs'
(the reapers), 'Le Gazoüillement'
(the chirping), 'Le Moucheron' (the
midge) and, of course, 'Les Bergeries'
(pastorals) whose second section contains
an imitation of a bagpipe. And there
is also 'Les Langueurs tendres'; the
languidness the title refers to could
well be the effect of the summer heat
on the countryside.
Couperin couldn't ignore
some of the most common musical forms
in those days. Therefore the 8e Ordre
contains a Passacaille. It is one of
Couperin's most famous and intriguing
compositions: here not only the bass
is repeated time and again during the
whole piece - as usual in a passacaille
- but also the opening statement, to
which Couperin returns many times. It
is also characterised by strong harmonic
tensions. And then there is the Folia
theme: many composers wrote variations
on it, and so did Couperin in the 13e
Ordre: 'Les Folies françoise
ou les Dominos'.
Lastly: in his oeuvre
Couperin shows a preference for "quiet
music and inner expression", as a commentator
stated. One of the most impressive examples
of this inner expression is 'Les Ombres
errantes', whose deep sadness is expressed
in strong sighing figures, chromaticism
and dissonances. It is one of the darkest
pieces of all four books.
Before talking about
the qualities of Michael Borgstede's
interpretation, let me concentrate on
the technicalities. Borgstede uses two
harpsichords, both built by the Dutch
harpsichord builder Titus Crijnen. The
first - used in the books 1 to 3 - is
a copy of a Ruckers, dating from 1638.
This is a little surprising as it seems
a little unlikely that in Couperin's
time such an early instrument would
have been used. It is a beautiful specimen,
but its tone is a little too aggressive.
I find the second instrument, after
an original by Henri Hemsch from 1754,
more appropriate to Couperin's music.
In the ‘Allemande à deux clavecins’
from the 9e Ordre Borgstede is assisted
by Haru Kitamika. In some pieces one
of the parts is played on a string instrument,
a violin (in the two 'Musètes'
from the 15e Ordre and 'La Létiville'
from the 16e Ordre) or a viola da gamba
(in the second section of 'La Croûilli
ou la Couperinéte' from the 20e
Ordre). This was common practice at
the time, and another piece, 'Le Rossignol-en-amour'
(14e Ordre), is frequently performed
with a transverse flute in the upper
part. The first eight Ordres open with
a 'Prélude' from Couperin's book
'L'Art de toucher le clavecin'.
The recording engineer
has done a good job: the recording is
crisp and clear, and the microphones
have been close enough to the harpsichord
to make all lines clearly audible without
creating a sound which is too obtrusive.
Only on the first couple of discs did
I hear some noises which should have
been filtered out. Sometimes Borgstede
taking his hands off the harpsichord
at the end of a piece causes some unpleasant
noises.
As far as the presentation
is concerned, Michael Borgstede has
written interesting programme notes,
but a more extensive explanation of
the titles would not have done any harm.
The print of the tracklists on the covers
of the individual discs is rather small
and the red colour of the covers doesn't
make it any easier to read them. The
duration of the discs on the cover is
seldom correct. And although the first
Ordres seem to consist of pieces put
together more or less at random, I am
not happy with the fact that the 2e
Ordre, by far the longest of all, is
divided over two discs. The 1er and
3e Ordre could easily been put on one
disc, and the whole 3e Ordre on another.
Lastly: the pauses between the Ordres
are too short.
But far more important
are Michael Borgstede's interpretations,
and I have to say that I am very impressed
by his performances. There is great
variety in Couperin's oeuvre for the
harpsichord, and he himself stated that
not every player is capable of playing
everything equally convincing: "Experience
has taught me that vigorous hands capable
of the fastest and lightest playing
do not always have the most success
with tender and expressive pieces".
There can be no doubt that Borgstede
has "vigorous hands" which are capable
of playing fast pieces. An impressive
example is the previously mentioned
'Les Fastes de la grande et ancienne
Mxnxstrxndxsx' from the 11e Ordre: the
depiction of a circus ends in complete
chaos, and this piece should be played
"very fast" - and that is what Borgstede
does in a most impressive way.
I am happy to report
that in general Borgstede is also equally
convincing in the "tender and expressive
pieces". The tempo and registration
of 'La Lugubre' (3e Ordre) is excellently
suited to express its dark mood. And
'Le Rossignol-en-amour' can't be given
a more moving performance with a transverse
flute than it gets here, in a brilliant
timing. 'La Rafraîchissante' (meaning:
refreshing) (9e Ordre) should be played
'with nonchalance' – this relaxed performance
is spot-on. Michael Borgstede is the
keyboard player of the ensemble Musica
ad Rhenum, which pays great attention
to the dramatic and emotional character
of baroque music. Therefore one may
expect to recognize those qualities
in Borgstede's performances here, and
he does not disappoint in this respect.
The contrast between pieces within a
particular Ordre, or between sections
within a single piece are generally
very well realised.
I am less impressed
by the performances of the Préludes
from Couperin's treatise 'L'Art de toucher
le clavecin'. The composer explained
that although he had 'measured' them
- which means that he had added bars,
unlike the traditional French 'prélude
non mesuré' - for the convenience
of the performers, these preludes should
be played with utmost freedom. I feel
that freedom is a little lacking here:
I would have liked a more imaginative
approach. Sometimes the tenderness a
piece requires isn't fully realised.
For example, the coupling of the two
manuals in 'Les Idées heureuses'
(2e Ordre) is probably not the ideal
way to play 'tendrement', which this
piece requires. On the other hand, in
'Les langueurs tendres' (6e Ordre) the
languidness is brilliantly expressed.
I am generally satisfied by the choice
of tempo. But 'Les Amusements' (7e Ordre)
doesn't sound very joyful, and that
has something to do with the tempo,
which seems a little too slow considering
the indication 'sans lenteur'. But the
character pieces fare splendidly: the
often very vivid descriptions of animals,
people or things are in very capable
hands here.
The key phrase in the
aesthetics of the first half of the
18th century is 'bon goût', good
taste. Couperin's harpsichord music
is impressive testimony to that ideal.
'Good taste' should also be the guideline
for every interpretation of music from
this period: not every aspect of the
performance can be written down, and
that is where the good taste comes in.
Perhaps the best compliment I can give
Michael Borgstede is that his recording
of Couperin's harpsichord works fully
answers the 18th century ideal of 'bon
goût'.
Johan van Veen
for
details
Michael Borgstede (harpsichord) 
