The piano sonata, or rather the secular solo keyboard sonata,
is a form which was founded and began to crystallise in that bridge
between what today is broadly recognised as the Baroque and the
early Classical period in European music. It probably shouldn’t
be so much of a surprise to see two composers who are primarily
recognised as the creators of opera or other vocal works putting
their hand to such instrumental pieces, but both of these names
are in unfamiliar territory in this genre. I for one had barely
realised that Baldassarre Galuppi had written for the keyboard,
but on searching for alternatives had my memory jogged by seeing
his name paired with that of Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, who
recorded a small handful of these sonatas way back in the 1960s.
It is intriguing
to hear the grand old master create poetry from these deceptively
simple sounding pieces, but, like Grieg’s Lyrische Stücke
as played by Emil Gilels, he showed how you could buck the
trend for barnstorming romanticism and technical bravura, and
move an audience with often neglected or under-rated miniature
gems. In his carefully selected programme, Andrea Bacchetti
has not only brought us some admirable up to date recordings,
but has also been busy creating a new edition of the Galuppi
sonatas from the original manuscripts, together with Mario Marcarini.
The latter’s booklet notes are available in complete form in
a pdf file on the CD disc, and provide not only an education
in their own right, but also have elegant and readable descriptions
and brief analyses of each sonata; the whole thing coming out
of my printer in 6 closely typed pages. A few paragraph indents
would have helped with the readability of the main text, but
the translation has been well prepared – something the importance
of which should not be underestimated.
This is quiet, refined
music of the utmost poise and lyricism. The two-part opening
of the first sonata in the collection is almost naively simple,
and Bacchetti emphasises this with a restrained tempo and a
minimum of ornamentation. What this does is effectively draw
us into a different world – one in which the musical associations
are of a different order to the complexities and dramas of opera,
and anticipation of a more intense instrumental discourse and
argument. All is order and formality, like a beautifully kept
garden – the occasional asymmetrical pattern of nature, like
the flight of a butterfly, only serving to highlight the elegance
of the curves and shapes of an otherwise perfect man-made architecture.
Marcarini refers to similarities to arias in Mozart and other
operas, and contemporary listeners will no doubt have recognised
any likeness to hits of the day in these pieces. The slower
movements could however as easily be beautifully turned formal
dances, and to modern ears these pieces have the quality of
a balm on troubled times.
The Venetian Galuppi’s
name has been overshadowed by that of Vivaldi both in the past
and today, but fans of the famous musical priest can find music
of equal quality in these recordings. The plangent Andantino
of the Sonata in D minor is a case in point. The
pattern of these sonatas is almost invariably a slow movement
followed by a fast or faster movement, and in this way we are
assured of plenty of contrast and pizzazz in Bacchetti’s pianism.
As in his Bach,
some of the passing runs between notes go at superhuman speed,
but the essential regularity of the rhythm is well maintained,
and Bacchetti is less overtly improvisational – keeping well
within the bounds of style gallant sensibilities, which
would have seen patrons fainting at the thought of anything
so brutal as over-emphasised dissonances or extrovert displays
beyond acceptable parameters. The Fazioli piano used in the
recording has a sweet. mellow tone, and the acoustic of the
Fazioli Concert Hall is fairly dry, so we have an intimate sense
of the music removed from any kind of extrovert showmanship.
Arguments over whether
this music should be played on a harpsichord can be had elsewhere.
The ability of the modern grand to allow for dynamic as well
as lyrical shape is part of the essence of this recording, and
to my mind perfectly appropriate in this context. Andrea Bacchetti’s
view of these pieces might indeed be seen as more romantic than
authentic, but in this way he is bringing it into the 21st
century rather than dusting off and attempting to reproduce
artefacts preserved in amber. His skill is in balancing the
idiom of the time the pieces were written against the human
expression brought forth by the music – something which would
surely have been as identifiable then as it is now.
A similar sense
of scholarly humanism surrounds Andrea Bacchetti’s SACD hybrid
disc of Luigi Cherubini’s 6 Sonatas. Quite by
chance I was embarking on this double review when Michael Cookson’s
list of recommended
Cherubini recordings popped up, and I was interested to
note there were no keyboard discs at all among his selections.
Where it appears that Galuppi’s sonatas appeared towards the
end of his career, the six sonatas by Cherubini were published
when the composer was a promising 23 year old. This was his
first publication, and it would be another fifty years before
his string quartets appeared, the intervening years being take
up with the production of operas and religious choral works.
In this release, Mario Marcarini’s booklet notes are printed
in the booklet in their entirety, and they provide plenty of
useful historical context for this “isolated episode in the
Florentine composer’s aesthetic career”.
As one of a later
generation of composers, it is not surprising that Cherubini’s
sonatas are more substantial than those of Galuppi, though the
two-movement pattern is maintained in essence. There is however
a great deal more variety within the movements. Development
of material is more thorough, and there are plenty of little
surprising twists and turns – mini-cadenzas, grammatical pauses
and variations to tease the ear, even when the material is often
not so very far removed from that of Galuppi in terms of technical
content. Stylistically there are inevitable differences, with
the left hand often chugging along with a fairly straightforward
Alberti bass, but the sparkle and inventiveness of the melodies
which these accompany is quite infectious. These pieces are
representative of a move away from the more typical dance forms
from the suites of days gone by – such as minuets, gavottes
and polonaises. This allows greater freedom of expression, and
a more purely abstract musical approach which anticipates the
attitudes of the Romanic era.
Andrea Bacchetti’s
playing in the Cherubini sonatas takes all of these aspects
of the music into consideration, and he pays with great aplomb
and wit, maintaining the ongoing musical narrative in a coherent
and cohesive way, but without missing the built-in moments of
innovation and virtuoso Mozartean fashion. Once again, the piano
sound and acoustic of the Fazioli Concert Hall, which is built
like a theatre especially for the piano, is entirely appropriate
for the music. The SACD effect is pleasant but un-dramatic,
giving the piano a slightly brighter balance than on the Galuppi
disc, whose mild mid-range thickness might take a little getting
used to on some systems. The surround recording provides more
acoustic information and gives more the feeling of your being
in an audience of one, rather than being a microphone on the
stage. This is certainly of benefit to the overall impression,
but again, it is not a make or break aspect of this disc. Both
of these discs are however excellent advertisements for the
Fazioli piano brand. The instrument(s) used on these recordings
show a fine balance of clarity in the sound, and a rich sustain
and excellent tone through every register, and Bacchetti has
no problems drawing a much as possible out of the music with
a deftness and transparency of touch which makes these discs
something of a must for all collectors of good piano recordings.
There is little competition
in the catalogue for either of these discs. The project by the
Divine Art label to record all of Galuppi’s
sonatas on 10 volumes seems to have stopped at volume three,
though this is certainly of interest to anyone wanting to seek
further in this repertoire. While there are a few alternatives
to the Cherubini on harpsichord
or fortepiano,
these are not exactly thick on the ground, so Andrea Bacchetti’s
entirely delightful recordings are very much a welcome addition
to the catalogue. Beyond that, both of these recordings offer
a kind of refuge from the kind of sensual battering you can sometimes
feel overcoming you in life and through the media. Simple can
be better, less is often more, and with a durability comparable
to the little worlds of Don Camillo, the synergy between the four
Italian masters of Galuppi, Cherubini, Fazioli and Bacchetti,
is something we can now all allow to have their gentle effect
on our over-heated lives.
Dominy Clements
RCA-BMG RED SEAL
88697367932 [68:50] 
[75:35] 
