The Couperin Family
Germany had the Bach family, with a rich musical tradition; perhaps the best French analog would be the famille Couperin. Three men from this family dynasty are represented in this album from a live concert given by Benjamin Alard: Louis Couperin, Armand-Louis Couperin, and perhaps the most familiar, François Couperin. Among the three, Louis is the earliest musician, and Armand-Louis is the latest, passing in 1789.
The album liner notes say this about the production:
The album focuses on the stylistic connections between different members of the most significant family in the history of the French Baroque: the Couperins. The harpsichord epitomised the intimacy and sophistication of salon music and, with the repertoire they composed for their instrument, les clavecinistes français helped forge a distinctive national style. This was renewed and enlivened by successive generations of the Couperin dynasty as they introduced innovative aspects of contemporary Italian style into their works, thereby creating an eloquent new idiom that was to have a lasting influence on the history of keyboard music.
The liner notes go into some detail about the family, which provides excellent trivia that may be of interest to the listener; that Louis never published his works, and that the Monsieur Blancrocher, the subject of the Tombeau recorded here, was a famous lutenist who died by falling down a staircase.
In terms of programming, I think Alard has chosen a good representation of pieces, including some familiar; taken in combination with the music from the other family musicians they together paint a rich tapestry of this family’s art and their period’s culture around the best keyboard music.
In Louis’ opening suite, La Piémontaise, is a special gem for introducing dissonance which would later be capitalized upon many times by Domenico Scarlatti. The dissonance creates a frisson of delight for me, and the novelty of this moment is captured well by Alard. The Tombeau de M. de Blancrocher has it’s moments of dissonance as well. Tombeau’s are pieces of remembrance, for those passed. I feel Alard’s tempo with this piece gives requisite respect to Blancrocher but the slow speed robs the piece of some of its charm. The chaconne that follows effuses with such richness that in comparison its over-sweet. Tempos for all the other tracks left me very satisfied.
Alard includes nine pieces from François Couperin’s L’art de Toucher le clavecin, which is a loaded title for a collection if I ever encountered one. As method pieces they intend to illustrate the nuances of fingers on keys, Alard I think is an excellent interpreter, giving intelligible shape to the phrases.
F. Couperin’s many suites, which he called ordres are represented on this album with one example, the 14th, which like the others are collections of character pieces. Some of the titles refer to people, who in many cases lead us to guess the particular character that’s being recreated; in the examples here some are easy to guess: the nightingale in love, the startled bird, the carillon de Cithère. Others are more mysterious: the little something. The titles may be seen as great aids in how we interpret the pieces, or they may be seen as particular challenges.
Alard also provides us the most familiar piece by the Couperin family, François Couperin’s imitation of the lute in his Les baricades mistérieuses from the sixth suite.
As a program, there’s enough diversity in the pieces, enough mixture of some “hits” with pieces that may be less well-known; above all I enjoyed Alard’s interpretations. He plays with rubato, not to any extreme, but just enough that the music feels organic under his fingers.
For the sound, there are times it’s obvious it’s a live recording but you will soon forget; for a live album I think the mastering is excellent. The instrument used is a Franco-Flemish copy by Keith Hill, who creates excellent instruments. The inside cover features a large red dragon, which is one of the more fanciful case paintings I’ve seen.The full concert times out at 67 minutes.
There are many great recordings of music by the Couperins. I grew up collecting Rousset’s recordings of the François Couperin suites and more recently musicians have turned to recording the works of Louis Couperin. This album does not replace these “complete recordings,” but instead helps us escape the frenetic pace of our modern world as we are taken back in time to enjoy the imitation of so many sounds and themes from the eighteenth and seventeenth century Paris’s upper-class. While I am most familiar with Alard playing the music of Bach, I so enjoyed hearing his interpretations of this French repertoire that for me was relaxed, detailed, and beautifully sown in sound. As a live recording is works very well in this recorded format. This was an all-around strong effort.
