Bach Harpsichord Concertos Volume 2

• Performer: Masato Suzuki, harpsichord and direction; Bach Collegium Japan
• Label: BIS
• Recording: Yamaha Hall, Tokyo, Japan, July 2019
• Producer: Robert Suff
• Engineer: Marion Schwebel

My own appreciation of Bach—and what would open up before me as the entire Baroque period, if not the world of art music—came from me encountering BWV 1054. The CD was borrowed, the ensemble was the English Concert, Trevor Pinnock in the role that is taken in this disc by Masato Suzuki, son of Masaki Suzuki, founder of the Bach Collegium Japan and student of Ton Koopman.

Unlike that recording from the 1980s, this one is played with one player per part, which is both more economical and provides far more transparency. In the guise of a recording, it brings us even closer to the harpsichord. It is believed Bach developed this format—a concerto with the keyboard as the solo instrument—for a specific purpose, concerts in a Leipzig coffeehouse. This could very well have been so he could take the most difficult role while still commanding the university students who made up the ensemble–the Collegium Musicum—from the keyboard which normally served its role as a continuo instrument.

There is no shortage of good recordings of these works; Suzuki and his father’s ensemble have released one before, but when this one first came out I only gave it a casual listen and moved on.

But coming back to it, the first thing that hit me was the sound quality. Given the small forces used as part of the orchestra? This album is ideally balanced.

The feeling for the beat and the phrasing? It’s the second thing that hits you, how tightly these performers are locked-in, not just in tempo, but in the way the music feels. This comes with good direction, and sufficient time to play together. However they do it, this is, I think, a high reference.

Next, I’m a big fan of the Kroesbergen harpsichord sound. I feel, no doubt, that father Suzuki inherited the preference for this Dutch maker from his teacher, who also exclusively uses his instruments.

In terms of style and interpretation, there is a bit of dryness to the approach taken. The effect is almost a politeness, to not subject the music to external influences. The movements where some artistic voice is apt I feel is always the slower movements; it’s where rubato is a tool to mold and shape a melodic phrase in all the ways a singer and manipulate their expression, at least when it comes to delivering a text so that the meaning, the words, and their emotions, are felt by us.

There are no words, of course, but it is difficult to imagine a Bach middle movement without the lineage to a sung aria. The result from Suzuki is always tidy, but the middle movements might be an area to explore how it feels to him, or more importantly, how it comes across to those listening?

Specific Mentions

The closing to BWV 1054—with all the ornaments and flourishes, and how the violins take the phrases longer than what the harpsichord can do when they’re in unison? This is perfection.

In the Concerto BWV 1057—an arrangement of Brandenburg Concerto no. 4,—the virtuosic displays by the violin have been re-written for the keyboard. The result is how evenly Suzuki renders the constant stream of notes. He reveals himself to be a highly technical player. The nature of the recording makes it super easy to follow every note his instrument speaks. For study purposes, I can’t imagine a better (transparent) way to know this piece.

In the slow movement of BWV 1057 Bach plays with the idea of echo, the ensemble presents a musical idea, then it gets repeated by itself on the harpsichord. The way it’s written is more complex and intricate with the focus on the keyboard, than I think it is presented in BWV 1049.

BWV 1058 is a bit dramatic, written in G minor; there are some dynamic opportunities in the ritornello of the concerto for some swells from the violins. It’s only amplified with a larger ensemble, but it’s also possible using 1-per-part instrumentation. I’d have liked to have heard more from the string section in doing what a harpsichord cannot do by itself, which is to increase in volume with held notes.

A good birdwalk might be to sample from Francesco Corti’s recording of BWV 1058 with Il Pomo d’Oro. The faster tempo, the wetter acoustics, and the more prominent strings bring both flash and drama to the same music. I do crave the BCJ’s recorded sound, as I lose so much of the intimate transparency from the BCJ recording; the faster tempo works; but the thing I really crave is that introduction of drama that is brought about from the strings.

Switching back, the effect is transformative. With Suzuki, I’m in a library or some such close-quartered space, maybe a meter from where the music is being made; I can hear every note and appreciate how tightly the ensemble is wired to the director at the keyboard. The wonder comes from the sheer number of notes Bach calls to be played by the harpsichord and how they and the harmony and rhythm that form around his phrases please us.

With Corti’s recording, I’m taken to a different headspace, one that’s teased by the shape of Bach’s melodic phrases and how they carry when the musicians have a chance to breathe.

Final Thoughts

While readers may already recognize that I prefer some flash, speed, and “Italian” taste in musical performance, I myself was surprised how much I enjoyed this recording from Suzuki and a small version of the Bach Collegium Japan. Artistically the decision was made to make an intimate recording and my deepest appreciation goes to the sound engineer in this regard for how beautifully transparent and close this music was captured. On that aspect alone this release deserves special mention.

This CD for me plays a lineage back to the one I first encountered by Pinnock and betters it, despite using a smaller ensemble. British HIP ensembles tend to play things “by the book” without too much extravagance. This is precisely how I feel Suzuki approached this music, but in so doing, allows us to hear precisely what Bach left for us on the page.

My way of rationalizing it is that this version isn’t necessarily for the large concert hall. It doesn’t have any aspiration to be followed by opera. Instead, it’s a connoisseur’s version, for when you want to get as close as the mirage will allow us, to the music and the musicians.

I do think there is room for some more deeply nuanced dynamics from the ensemble, but even without, they’ve made a remarkable recording.