Briefly Noted: Andreas Staier completes Well-Tempered Clavier Set

Bach, Well-Tempered Clavier, Vol. 1, A. Staier (released on January 6, 2023) Harmonia Mundi HMM902680.81 | 109'13" Vol. 2 [2021]

It was long past time to check in with what Andreas Staier has been up to recently. The esteemed German specialist in historical keyboards went back to recording Bach, with a two-release set of the complete preludes and fugues of the Well-Tempered Clavier. He began with the more substantial second volume, released in 2021, leaving the earlier volume, the kernel of Bach's monumental collection, for now. Uniting the set is Staier's choice of instrument, a modern one built in Paris by Anthony Sidey and Frédéric Bal in 2004, modeled on a harpsichord made by Hieronymus Albrecht Hass in Hamburg in 1734, right between the appearances of Bach's two volumes.

In Staier's hands, this harpsichord belies the myth of the instrument as monotonous in sound. In both volumes, Staier uses the many registration possibilities to create a bewildering range of textures. The original Hass instrument, now in the collection of the Musical Instruments Museum in Brussels (I think), is a bit of a monster, a double-manual harpsichord with a disposition combining a 16', double 8', and 4' choir of strings. There is also a lute stop, as well as buff stops on the lower manual's 8' and 4'. (A few years later, Hass built an even larger harpsichord, with five choirs of strings controlled by three manuals, thought to be the largest original harpsichord of the period and the only historical harpsichord with three manuals.)

German harpsichords like this one can have a dozen or more possible registration combinations, and Staier seems to use them all. Some of the preludes and fugues stand out for their light sound, like the D#/E-flat minor pairing, giving an understated finish to the incredible complexity of this very long fugue, complete with tortured chromatic twists. (Only the final fugue of Book 1, in B minor, is longer.) Other pairings, using the big sets of strings, have a more orchestral sound, almost like a Busoni transcription of Bach with all the parallel octaves. The buff stops come in handy for a couple delicate pieces: one of these softened stops buzzes with a reedy twang like a Nasalzug, heard in the E major and F# major preludes. Staier engages the harp stop only on the very first prelude, the almost too-famous C major, to novel effect (also on the C# major prelude in Book 2). Staier's touch is not uniformly fluid, with some preludes having more tiny inconsistencies than others, but the variety of connections in the playing is always diverting.

Andreas Staier Waxes Saturnine

...pour passer la melancolie, A. Staier (Harmonia Mundi, 2013)

Early keyboard specialist Andreas Staier got his start as harpsichordist of the excellent historically informed performance ensemble Musica Antiqua Köln, sadly now defunct. Staier has released a series of excellent recordings on the Harmonia Mundi label, which we have followed with great interest at Ionarts. He always plays on interesting and historically appropriate instruments, whether in Mozart concerti or an especially delightful Beethoven Diabelli Variations. Although Staier has played somewhere in Washington some years ago, our first opportunity to review him in a live concert finally came on Wednesday evening, in a beautiful recital at the Library of Congress.

Staier played the same program as on his 2013 CD, ...pour passer la melancolie, devoted to the subject of melancholy as found in musical representations of the theme of Vanitas — down to the Courante of Clérambault's first book of Pièces de Clavecin, left off the program but definitely played. Thomas and Barbara Wolf brought their harpsichord built in 2005, modeled on a Nicolas Dumont instrument from 1707, loaned by the University of Maryland; happily, Staier did not play any part of the program on the Landowska Pleyel in the Library's collection. One obvious side of musical melancholy came in the rhapsodic freedom Staier took in the preludes and other free pieces, taken with a free sense of rubato that had the feel of improvisation. This was balanced by dance pieces in more strict rhythm, as well as fugues and other contrapuntal pieces that were more cerebral.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Contemplating mortality, with pleasure, at harpsichord recital (Washington Post, March 10) James R. Oestreich, Andreas Staier on the Harpsichord, Coaxing Gravity and Gloom (New York Times, March 7)

Minor finger slips or places where the key did not quite make the key sound only served to underscore the contemplation of the fleeting nature of human endeavor, in music or anything else. As he did with the instrument on the recording, a reconstructed historical instrument, Staier brought out a charming range of sounds from the Wolf harpsichord, by combining stops in unexpected ways. A full registration in the prelude from the first book of d'Anglebert's Pièces de Clavecin set up the more mellow Tombeau de Mr. de Chambonnières that followed.

In all of these lament pieces, like Louis Couperin's Tombeau de Monsieur Blancrocher and Froberger's plaint on his own misfortunes during a trip to England, Staier used the hesitations and slow pacing to create a sense of ineffable nostalgia. Never did the concept of the Doctrine of the Affections, espoused by late Baroque theorists, seem so relevant as this music in this performance steeped a room in sympathetic gloom. Insufficient applause prevented Staier from playing an encore, which may possibly have been the only piece from the CD he did not play, Froberger's lament on the death of King Ferdinand IV.

Historical Brahms

Brahms, Piano Sonatas 1 and 2 / Scherzo, op. 4, A. Melnikov (released on February 8, 2011) HMC 902086 | 69'23"

Recordings of 19th-century music with historical pianos are becoming an obsession of mine -- Andreas Staier's Diabelli-Variations on a Graf, Edna Stern's Chopin on a Pleyel, or Kristian Bezuidenhout's Schumann on an Erard. Publicists, please keep sending them to me, because I find them fascinating when a beautiful instrument is matched with an excellent musician. Add to that growing pile this recent disc of early Brahms played by Alexander Melnikov on an 1875 Bösendorfer piano. The choice is perhaps not perfect, as Melnikov himself notes in his booklet essay: Brahms did prefer Viennese pianos for much of his life, but later in life opted for the new American Steinways and was sometimes critical of Bösendorfer. The two sonatas featured here, nos. 1 and 2, were the young composer's calling card when he made his first visit to the Düsseldorf home of Robert and Clara Schumann in September 1853. As described in the other liner essay, by Guido Fischer, Schumann and his wife were so taken with Brahms that, later in the same year, Schumann lionized Brahms in Die Neue Zeitschrift für Musik. With mythological hyperbole, Schumann described Brahms as "a young fellow at whose cradle graces and heroes stood watch," the young musician Schumann had prophesied would "spring like Minerva fully armed from the head of Jove," to "give expression to our age in the highest and most ideal manner." No pressure or anything.

Brahms was finished with the piano sonata not long after that, completing no. 3 (by far the most often recorded of the Brahms piano sonatas) in the same year and then focusing on large sets of variations and sets of smaller character pieces. Schumann gave an insight into Brahms's approach to the genre, equating the sonatas he heard Brahms play with "veiled symphonies," and describing the young man's playing "turning the piano into an orchestra of wailing and jubilant voices." We have a good idea of what that could sound like on the modern Steinway, but how might it have sounded when Brahms played it? Admittedly, this instrument was built a couple decades too late -- an Erard, like the one heard on this Dichterliebe recording, was the prized instrument chez les Schumann, or Clara's Graf piano, which the Erard replaced and she subsequently gave to Brahms, would be better. Still, the Bösendorfer gives Melnikov a whole side of soft and murky shading in its tone, with some limitations on the amplitude of sound at the forte end. Having a better idea of what was possible on the instruments Brahms played can help fill out our understanding of what Brahms meant when he wrote down what he did. Add the fact that there is no clear favorite for these two sonatas on modern piano -- perhaps the Richter set (Decca) -- and this disc is easy to recommend.

Briefly Noted: Diabelli Variations

Beethoven, Diabelli Variations, S. Kovacevich (piano) (released on February 10, 2009) Onyx 4035 | 53'31" Beethoven, Diabelli Variations, P. Lewis (piano) (released on June 14, 2011) HMC 902071 | 52'46" Beethoven, Diabelli Variations, B. Levin (piano) (released on June 28, 2011) Centaur CRC 3046| 60'21" Beethoven, Diabelli Variations, L. Cabasso (piano) (released on November 15, 2011) Naïve V5282 | 50'40" Beethoven, Diabelli Variations, A. Staier (fortepiano) (released on May 8, 2012) HMC 902091 | 67'30"

A recent performance of Beethoven's Veränderungen über einen Walzer, op. 120, reminded me to catch up on some new recordings of this monumental work. Popularly known as the Diabelli Variations, in honor of the composer of the humble waltz that serves as its theme, it is often considered the summa of the variation technique. My favorite interpretations remain Alfred Brendel (Philips) for wit and Maurizio Pollini (DG) for steeliness, but there is room on my shelf for more. Now that Beethoven's manuscript of the Diabelli Variations has been added to the collection of the Beethoven-Haus in Bonn, rescued from a mostly inaccessible private collection, it can be viewed online through that institution's digital archives.

Most of the things we admired about Paul Lewis's Beethoven sonata cycle are true also of his recording of the Diabelli Variations. Lewis has a vigorous way with all of the variations, pushing the extremes of tempo and articulation, not to blow them out of proportion but to bring their contrasts into focus. His approach is in line with the booklet essay of scholar Jean-Paul Montagnier, which describes the variations -- almost all of them lasting only a minute or slightly more -- as something akin to bagatelles. The contradiction is shocking, between a vast architecture and the individual building blocks, which are often drolly terse. In the same way that he did with the sonatas, Lewis does not attempt to overwhelm the piano with vicious bite either.

Stephen Kovacevich, in his second recording of the Diabelli Variations (the first was made in the 1960s, for Philips), comes close to Lewis's very short timing. By contrast to Lewis, many of Kovacevich's tempo choices seem a little too fast or too slow, as he looks for more daring or unconventional or enigmatic interpretations, not necessarily the most polished technically and often overemphasizing both the jolting and the unctuous. Even shorter than either Lewis or Kovacevich is French pianist Laurent Cabasso, whom we have read about but never reviewed until now -- and the experience has me wanting to hear much more. The approach is a more impish take on the variation-as-bagatelle, with some real romps in the fast movements -- just as virtuosic as Lewis and maybe a little odder, captured in that warm Naïve sound with all of the crunch in the fortes and the plushness in the softer moments. He pairs the Beethoven with Schubert's own single variation on Diabelli's waltz, plus another technical showdown with the Wandererfantasie.

Beth Levin comes in with the longest timing in this batch of recordings from the last few years, approaching the time of another fine and enigmatic recording by Grigory Sokolov (live, Opus111). The caution in Levin's approach is evident in her lilting, waltz-like, but ultimately not very exciting rendition of the original waltz and the ponderous rendition of the first variation, marked Maestoso, but also Alla Marcia, a shocking shift of meter and character for the initial variation. Levin adds many nuances to each movement, drawing out some interesting ideas, but among the competition this rendition does not hold my ear for very long. Too much flair, as on the trills of Variation 6, is missing, the maestosos and pesantes are all exaggerated, and inferior sound quality does not help.

Sokolov takes slightly longer than Levin (62'07"), but rather than sounding cautious, his choices are just odd and fun and often marked by almost impetuous virtuosity: Variation 1, just as slow as Levin, is pompous, with some distant echos from the cannons; no. 2 walks on eggshells; and it goes on from there, as all sorts of unexpected voicings and textures pop out at you. While Levin's version is slower in almost all the movements, the idiosyncratic reading by Piotr Anderszewski (Virgin, 2001) is mostly as fast or faster than other recordings. To add up to the longest timing of 62'51", Anderszewski takes just a few movements at outrageously slow paces, like Variation 14, which is the most Grave e maestoso I have ever heard. All of the slow movements are slower and longer than most other recordings, but Variation 31 is taken just as glacially as no. 14, also ending up over six minutes in length. All in all, it is one of the stranger Diabellii Variations available on disc.

The newest recording at this point is by Andreas Staier, made on a reconstruction of a Graf fortepiano, an instrument that still has a thunderous forte side, albeit not as strong as a modern piano, but also a beautifully nuanced soft side. As demonstrated at recitals by Richard Egarr and Davitt Moroney in the last couple months, playing on historical instruments, especially when they are actually instruments the composer may have known, can help illumine our understanding of the sounds and effects the composer was after in a piece. The modern piano can just do some of the demanding things better and more easily -- the trills all sound a little clunky and wooden -- but anyone who has an interest in this piece, either player or listener, should listen to this recording. The use of the moderator (forerunner of the una corda pedal) and shift pedal (Verschiebung) in Variation 20 creates an almost otherworldly soft sound, and the bassoon stop (touches of reedy buzz adding a sung quality) in the comic Variation 22 and the janissary stop (a crash of percussion on big chords) in Variation 23 are not to be missed.

The only other fortepiano version of the piece to have reached my ears was by Edmund Battersby (Naxos, 2005), also on a modern reconstruction of a Graf instrument, although not as exotic in tone as the one Staier plays and not captured in the same quality of sound. Battersby does not spice up the score with exotic stops, and the fortepiano version is paired somewhat oddly with the same artist's performance on a modern Steinway. Furthermore, Staier rounds out his disc with eleven variations by some of the 50 composers Diabelli solicited variations from, plus Staier's own Introduzione to the theme, based on ideas Beethoven sketched out in his manuscript but did not ultimately use, leading immediately to his performance of the whole Beethoven set.

More Mozart Concerti

Mozart, Last Concertos (K. 595 and 622), A. Staier, L. Coppola, Freiburger Barockorchester, G. von der Goltz (released February 12, 2008) Harmonia Mundi HMC 901980 Vol. 1 Vol. 2 Online scores: Neue Mozart-Ausgabe

There are so many series of new Mozart concerto recordings being released at the moment. Two of the more traditional, but chamber-minded combinations, featuring Maurizio Pollini and Leif Ove Andsnes, have been under review recently. Having grown up loving the Mozart playing of Alicia de Larrocha with the English Chamber Orchestra, I still favor the historically informed performance (HIP) recordings by Academy of Ancient Music with Robert Levin on fortepiano. On this recent release of Mozart's last piano concerto, with which the composer gave his final appearance as soloist on March 4, 1791, Andreas Staier plays an excellent Christoph Kern reconstruction of an Anton Walter fortepiano. It is the latest installment of a Mozart series by the Freiburger Barockorchester, not devoted exclusively to piano concerti, but following up on discs that include the flute and harp concerto and the wind concerti. The sound of the ensemble of 18th-century specialists is so rarefied (18 strings plus wind soloists on period instruments) that it melds seamlessly with the lighter tone of the fortepiano, as well as a reproduction of Anton Stadler's basset clarinet (or clarinette d'amour in A, by Agnès Guéroult) played with subtle attention to delicate colors by Lorenzo Coppola. His is one of the most satisfying performances of Mozart's truly exquisite clarinet concerto, one of the last pieces Mozart completed, although it was first sketched out a few years earlier. This disc is also unusual in that it relies on manuscript details for some of the interpretation. The clarinet concerto is an attempted reconstruction of the original basset clarinet version, and the piano concerto uses only a string quartet to accompany the soloist when the score is marked "solo" (as opposed to the marking of "tutti"), as well as original cadenzas by Andreas Staier. 59'23"

Mozart, K. 467 and 595, D. Barenboim, English Chamber Orchestra (1997) Seraphim Classics 7243 5 73572 2 7

While Daniel Barenboim is a great musician, his Mozart has always left me a little cold, a judgment that was reinforced while listening to the now cut-rate version of these two Mozart piano concerti. By comparison to the leanness of the Freiburg ensemble, Barenboim's tempi (he was both conductor and soloist) sound flabby, with the length of each movement in no. 27 exceeding Staier's timings by about a minute. Barenboim's take on no. 21 is pleasingly light-handed in the first movement (overall it is the more pleasing of the pair on this disc), but the famous second movement, marked Andante, is too sentimental, almost seeming stuck in molasses. One is reminded of the comments of René Jacobs about how familiarity with the score of Don Giovanni led to the gradual slowing of its most famous passages. The second movement of piano concerto no. 21 (K. 467) is likely the most famous of the Mozart canon, since its use in a film from which it has derived a nickname, and Barenboim's reading of it seems similarly burdened with accumulated nostalgia. Still, the playing, of both Barenboim and the English Chamber Orchestra, is able and sensitive, and Barenboim offers his own cadenzas, quite striking, for no. 21. 63'22"

Mozart, Early Piano Concertos (K. 175, 238, 246), D. Greilsammer, Suedama Ensemble (released August 26, 2008) Naïve V 5149

Jerusalem-born pianist David Greilsammer inaugurates what may turn out to be a complete traversal of the Mozart piano concerti, with the Suedama Ensemble (this disc is actually a re-release of an older recording with Vanguard Classics, to celebrate Greilsammer's new contract with Naïve). The instruments are not 18th-century ones, least of all the Hamburg Steinway under Greilsammer's fingertips. This set of three concertos (nos. 5, 6, and 8) are Mozart's first as an adult composer, dating from his late teenage years in Salzburg. (His first four concertos, from Mozart's early adolescence, are juvenile arrangements of other composers' music.) Of the 27 concertos left by Mozart, these three are some of the least often played, but Greilsammer approaches them with freshness and dedication to their attractive qualities, adding embellishments here and there and even replacing Mozart's cadenzas with his own. Greilsammer, who studied at Juilliard and with Richard Goode, has something of an obsession with Mozart, having played a one-day continuous marathon cycle of the Mozart sonatas in Paris earlier this year. He and the Suedama Ensemble, of which he is the artistic director, approach these youthful works with vibrancy, keeping the fast movements ebullient but not harried and the slow ones graceful but not static. Certainly, these are performances that show the early Mozart piano concertos in their best light. Greilsammer and the Suedama Ensemble will perform this fall (December 11) at the 92nd Street Y in Manhattan. Mozart's 22nd piano concerto is on the program. 62'05"