For her fascinating second disc on Metronome, Carole Cerasi
has chosen six sonatas by C. P. E. Bach which were not included
in the main publications of that composer. By taking a sonata
per decade of the composer's creative life, Cerasi succeeds
in providing a 67-minute overview of C. P. E. Bach's creative
output. It is a tribute to her artistry and understanding of
C. P. E. Bach's idiosyncratic idiom that the recital grips the
listeners attention from the very first note and refuses to
let go.
Cerasi plays the first three sonatas of her disc on a lively
double-manual harpsichord by Bruce Kennedy, after Michael Mietcke
(c1704) and the remaining three on a Jean Boscou fortepiano,
after Johann Andreas Stein (early 1780s). This reflects what
happens in C. P. E. Bach's scores: terraced dynamics appropriate
to double-manual harpsichords are replaced in the 1760s and
1770s by more graduated dynamics. Whatever the piece and chosen
mode of communication, Cerasi shows herself an interpreter of
remarkable insight.
This disc, then, is a worthy successor to her award-winning
debut disc of Pièces de clavecin by Jacquet de la Guerre
(METCD1026 - to be reviewed ). The music
of C. P. E. Bach speaks with a unique voice and one that to
this day poses a daunting interpretative task for performers.
Bach's invention seemingly knows no bounds, and neither does
his daring: there are textures and harmonies here which retain
their power to shock right to the present day. The spirit of
the new shines throughout these pieces. Unafraid of sparse textures
and adventurous harmonic twists, the music of C. P. E. Bach
makes for compulsive listening, and nowhere more so than in
Cerasi's fine accounts.
The excellent recording conveys the brightness of the harpsichord
but, commendably, never becomes uncomfortable. There is an extraordinary
range of expression presented by C. P. E. Bach: try the quasi-orchestral
sonorities of the Allegro di molto finale of the Sonata in E
minor, H13 (<Sample 1>); or the seemingly improvisatory
gestures of the opening movement of the B flat Sonata, H51 (<Sample
2>). These gestures, far from making the music diffuse, add
to its fascination: it is clear, aurally, that there is a master's
hand at work throughout. The E minor Sonata, H66 is particularly
interesting as it actually presents as a late example of the
Suite (with Menuets I, II, III in addition to Allemande, Courante,
Sarabande and Gigue). Cerasi impressively captures the character
of each of its five movements, from the courtly Allemande through
to the bright, jolly but expertly crafted Gigue.
The three Sonatas played on the fortepiano bring with them
an abrupt shift in sound. Although more rounded in tone, C.
P. E. Bach's adventurous new world in these pieces comes across
as just as challenging to the listener. Listen to the flourishes
at the opening of the Allegro assai of the B flat Sonata, H241
(<Sample 3>), performed with great panache and aplomb
by Cerasi, and to the angular phrases thereafter. Indeed, these
very phrases point to the biting, almost pointillist Andante
of the C major Sonata, H248, a truly stunning piece of compositional
daring. Even the more gentile and civilised Andantino first
movement to H280, which might lend the listener a false sense
of security, acts as a foil to the ensuing intimate and sparse
Adagio e sostenuto.
This is a stunning disc. I urge anyone even remotely intrigued
to try it.
Colin Clarke
See
also review by Peter Grahame Woolf