Bach’s Toccatas - Cabasso
At this point in my preference for taking on new albums of familiar works—in this case the seven toccatas for keyboard by Johann Sebastian Bach—I’m looking for an interpretation that defies convention, offering something of a truly original performance. Occasionally we’ll come across these. The other element that might attract my attention is an historical angle that extends our understanding of the work; a recent example in this vein was the performance of a Haydn symphony that had been preserved in Spain, using the parts used in that town during Haydn’s time. As you might imagine, hearing how others may have arranged the work to fit their needs at the time is of historical interest. Lastly, new albums that surpass the sound quality of earlier recordings are also of interest. These can marry equally compatible performances with better clarity, transparency, and realism.
Laurent Cabasso, a pianist with whom I was not familiar, framed the elongated front of a piano on the cover of his new Bach album. It was a piano that looked especially wide. Reading the liner notes, I learned that [the instrument he’d chosen to record Bach’s toccatas was by Stephen Paulello](https://www.stephenpaulello.com/en/pianos). Now, I’ll be the first to admit I am not up with the latest piano technologies. But it seems Paulello was set on creating a better instrument; for one, he extended the compass of the instrument from 88 to 104 keys. The artist mentions the crisp attack of the instrument, and what affinities he felt it mimicked of the harpsichord.
The HIP fan in me is of course suspicious of using an instrument that’s more like the one used by the composer. Yet, I am also pragmatic. There have been good pianists who have recorded baroque works with great affect. I think it depends what you’re after. And that’s the choice afforded to us today: options for how we want to approach the music. The recording of Bach’s toccata BWV 914 by Johannes Maria Bogner (on Fra Bernardo) is a great example of a historical take on this repertoire that, with the performance, combines to produce something of a very special result. Bogner’s touch, combined with the dynamic range of his instrument was especially enjoyable.
First and foremost, this new recording is extremely clean; this speaks to the performance itself, the instrument used, and to some effect, the sound engineering. (There is reverb, for sure, and the recording isn’t especially dry.) For this, the recording should be of special interest. The Paulello piano has a bit of a harder attack than, say, most Steinways, the classical world’s most popular piano. Andras Schiff has a light touch with Bach, avoiding in his latest recordings to using the pedal. I think it’s fair to say that Cabasso is a more dynamic player, which works well on this instrument. From my limited time with the album it seems to me the piano, under Cabasso’s control, has an appropriately limited dynamic range.
My first recording of all of Bach’s toccatas on the piano was from Angela Hewitt. The instrument Hewitt uses (I can’t say if it’s Steinway or Fazioli) has a more classic sound; the upper range is fuller, the lower range has more bloom and weight. The attack of notes is less sharp. I’d always liked her interpretations; Cabasso’s are equally good, I think, although there are too many differences in phrasing and approach with tempo to articulate. As an example, Hewitt takes the longest with the C minor Toccata; Gould is in the middle, and Cabasso’s tempo ends it the fastest. I think Hewitt and Gould get away with taking passages far too slowly than would have been possible with a harpsichord, with its lack of sustaining power. Gould’s interpretations are likely to raise more eyebrows for their braveness from the norm.
My favorite toccatas recording is still the one by Pierre Hantaï on harpsichord. There’s the authenticity of instrument combined with what I perceive of authenticity when it comes to historical performance style. Ultimately, I do not find this new recording by Cabasso to be iconoclastic in the Goudlian mould; the performer’s historical references to the harpsichord are misplaced. A piano is not a harpsichord; I’d instead let the new instrument do what it does best without worrying so much about imitating a still available instrument. In some cases I feel Cabasso doesn’t take advantage of the dynamics of instrument in the same affective ways that Bogner does with his clavichord.
That said, the opportunity to hear the clean and clear articulation of the Paulello instrument under Cabasso’s fingers was a real treat. Which speaks to the good choices to marry the music to the instrument. I found Cabasso’s feeling about tempo to be more my style, than, say, Schiff, who I feel sometimes isn’t as intense as I’d prefer.
That said, I am still moved more by the ideas Gould put down in 1979 in his recording of the toccatas across two albums if I want a Bach recording on piano. The close miking used in those Columbia recordings captures Gould’s Steinway in a very clear, dry way that almost rivals the effect in this new recording. Cabasso offers us moments of very fine playing but nothing impresses upon me a need for you or me to go out and acquire this new set. It may be of interest to piano nerds or those who simply must have Bach on the piano. In this case, there are many other comparisons to be made from pianists beyond what I’ve explored here.
