Moving and powerful, these performances given during July 1990
                were made in exceptional circumstances. At the age of seventy-six
                and suffering from a heart condition Paul Tortelier nevertheless
                went ahead with recitals in the Abbaye St. Michel de Cuxa during
                the Festival Pablo Casals of Prades - the fortieth anniversary
                concerts of the first festival there. He was to die five months
                later. 
                
                Back in 1966 he’d published his own edition of the Suites
                for Galliard, in which decade he set down his first recorded
                thoughts on the complete solo cello works. He was to do so again
                in the 1980s and again in 1990, both times for EMI. Unlike his
                coeval Rostropovich the Suites held no destabilising fears for
                him. If one thinks of the French tradition in solo Bach then
                I suppose one could say that Fournier’s torch passed to
                Tortelier, only that would be too glib an approximation - and
                for all my great admiration for Fournier I think Tortelier’s
                Bach was the more consistent and expressively integrated. 
                
                There are some visual matters to discuss. There are several camera
                angle shots. One was ‘front left and under’ if you
                follow, so we look up at the cello. Another was close up from
                the right and yet another rather from the right side, so we can
                glimpse the audience beyond. These are unusual enough angles
                to note. They don’t intrude. The Abbey brickwork adds a
                gauntly beautiful backdrop to the performances. We can see music
                stands pressed up against a far wall, awaiting future performances.
                Tortelier himself sits enthroned, as it were, in all this - we
                see his face in riveting detail, the folds of his jacket, the
                burnish of the cello in the streaming light, the cool, white
                stone walls as they hold the secrets of the ages, and of Bach. 
                
                Each suite is a self contained unit so the credits roll at the
                end of each work. This might perhaps have been remedied for DVD
                but I don’t feel strongly about it and some might prefer
                the finality it affords, the sense of punctuation after so great
                a work has been played in so hallowed a place. The playing is
                not without flaw but these specks (the Menuet of the D minor,
                for example) are so insignificant as not to matter. The great
                spirit that communes with Bach is revealed in humility but also
                with a sense of projected self. The playing is deeply moving
                - he was one of the great Bach players of his generation irrespective
                of instrument, of affiliation or whatever - and this is revealed
                in every bow stroke and in the palpable intensity of his playing.
                He marries dancing lightness with brooding depth of utterance;
                at no time does one wish that the spirit of the dance might be
                stronger, so fluidly and excitingly does it course throughout
                the set. His 
courantes are an especial delight but this
                is to take one example from among so many. 
                
                Should you want a visual representation of Tortelier, or indeed
                of the Suites, this DVD is essential. 
                
                
Jonathan Woolf  
                
                Masterwork
                Index: all reviews of the Bach Cello Suites on Musicweb