Harpsichord News

Armand-Louis Couperin: Complete Keyboard Works

During this past concert season I have been revisiting a few of my favorite harpsichord solos from the French repertoire. High among these have been several works by Armand-Louis Couperin (La Chéron and l’Affligée) and, with guest harpsichordist Mitchell Crawford, the first movement of the same composer’s Symphony for Two Harpsichords. Following one of these concerts, my sometime harpsichord student Deborah Dana brought one of the two B-flat solo pieces to her lesson, using a score printed from an online source. I asked her for more complete information, and she graciously sent me this link to Martin Pearlman’s website: http://www.martinpearlman.com/artist.php?view=dpk#docs. And thus began this month’s column, with its information about a very large gift to the entire harpsichord community!

Pearlman’s online magnum opus comprises the complete keyboard works of Armand-Louis Couperin in a pristine scholarly edition of 350 downloadable pages: under Documents, simply scroll down to the fourth icon (Armand-Louis Couperin Edition Complete) and make your choices­—the whole edition or the helpful preface, followed by the individual groups of pieces: a very legible modern-notated edition of the complete Pièces de Claveçin, several newly offered miscellaneous solo pieces (including one with organ registrations), and the extensive group of works for two harpsichords. There are also two appendices comprising separate parts for Harpsichord One and Harpsichord Two of the duo-harpsichord compositions.

All of this is offered for free downloading and performing: a gift from the generous and thoughtful editor, who also has given me permission to quote from his introduction: “Based on work I began in the 1970s I decided, in the modern spirit of online sharing, to make this edition available without charge to those who are interested in it. I ask only that any performers of the two Quatuors which I have completed acknowledge my role in writing the second harpsichord parts (which were missing from the manuscripts).”

What a kind and useful gift! Previously we have had the two volumes of selected works for keyboard edited by the eminent scholar and organist/harpsichordist David Fuller for A-R Editions of Madison, Wisconsin, and a complete facsimile edition of the 1752 solo harpsichord pieces by Brigitte Haudebourg for French publisher August Zurfluh. Incidentally, both Fuller and Haudebourg have recorded various pieces from their respective print editions, as has Martin Pearlman.

Pearlman graciously acknowledged the work of his predecessors in publication. He also dedicated this extensive study to Gustav Leonhardt, from whom he took harpsichord lessons in Amsterdam. In a note to me Pearlman mentioned, “Mr. Leonhardt was quite complimentary . . .” concerning the scholarly effort involved in this new addition to A-L Couperin scores.

Rather than reprint the many helpful sections of Pearlman’s 359-page oeuvre, I present here a list of those topics that curious readers may find to be useful subjects that are presented in the fifty-page preface: Introduction and Acknowledgements; Genealogical Table [of the Couperin Dynasty]; Life of Armand-Louis Couperin; Couperin’s Keyboard Instruments [particularly of interest since the composer’s wife was a Blanchet from that family of harpsichord-building fame]; Performance Issues (Double Bars and Repeats, Abbreviations, Appoggiaturas, Ornaments); [A comprehensive] Bibliography; Editorial Policy; Description of Sources; Critical Notes; and, finally, Portraits and Facsimiles. 

What follows are 219 pages comprising the easy-to-read musical scores, which include several formerly unknown works in the category “Other Pieces for Solo Keyboard Instruments.” Additionally, there is access to more than a hundred additional pages of individual parts for harpsichords 1 and 2 of the duo works. (In our Dallas printing spree we consumed more than a ream of paper and several cartridges of black printer ink, all for this very “Baroque” cause.)

What treasures! What a treat! Endless thanks are due Martin Pearlman for his generosity and true collegial spirit. And, finally, a tip of the hat to Deborah Dana in this, her birthday month. Once again, as with her introducing me to the Wagnerian unmeasured prelude by Scott Ross (cited in The Diapason, July 2017, page 11), her teacher has learned from his student. And that (along with hearing musical progress) is one of the greatest joys in a professor’s life!

Pedaling the French: 

A ‘Tour de France’ of Revival Harpsichordists 1888–1939

I. Near-death and slow rebirth

“Make what you want: this upstart piano will never replace the majestic claveçin!” Thus began my 1989 book Harpsichord in America: a Twentieth-Century Revival with these combative words from the composer Claude-Bénigne Balbastre (1727–1799). Looking back from our historical perspective, we all know how that prediction turned out! Even for Balbastre himself: his capitulation was a work for the new “upstart” keyboard instrument, a Marche des Marseillois, “arranged for the Forte Piano by Citizen Balbastre, and dedicated to the brave defenders of the French Republic in the year 1792, the first of the Republic.” At least Citizen [Citoyen] Claude-B B survived!

Following a very few antiquarian-inspired appearances throughout the piano-dominated 19th century, the harpsichord’s return to the musical scene as a featured instrument occurred during the Paris Exhibition of 1888 at the instigation of Louis Diémer (1843–1919), a piano professor at the Paris Conservatoire. Diémer was able to borrow a 1769 Pascal Taskin harpsichord to play in several concerts comprising concerted works by Rameau and solo pieces by various French claviçinistes. Of the latter the most popular composer was Louis-Claude Daquin, whose Le Coucou became one of the most-performed works during the early harpsichord revival period.

Diémer and his concerts must have inspired the salon composer Francis Thomé (1850–1909) to write a Rigodon for this most recent French harpsichordist, and thus provide history with the very first new piece for the old instrument. Inspired by Daquin, but also meant as a tribute to Diémer’s “legendary trilling ability,” Thomé’s pièce de claveçin was published by Lemoine in 1893. Around the middle of the 20th century this work was discovered and later recorded in 1976 by harpsichordist Igor Kipnis on a disc of favorite encores. After being captivated by its simple antiquarian charm, I too was able to acquire an original print of the work, thanks to my German friend and European “concert manager” Dr. Alfred Rosenberger, who found it at Noten Fuchs, Frankfurt’s amazing music store, where, apparently, the yellowed score had been on their shelves ever since its publication date. 

As a somewhat-related aside, the probable first harpsichord composition of the 20th century, or at least the earliest one to appear in print, is a Petite Lied by French organist/composer Henri Mulet (1878–1967). This aptly titled work of only 17 measures in 5/4 meter was issued in 1910. (See Harpsichord News, The Diapason, January 2011, p. 12, for a complete facsimile of the score.)

The solo harpsichord works of François Couperin, in a fine 19th-century edition by Johannes Brahms and Friedrich Chrysander, also found some popularity among pianists. From the musical riches to be found in Couperin’s 27 suites, came the lone musical example to be included in the 20th-century’s first harpsichord method book: Technique du Claveçin by Régina Patorni-Casadesus (1886–1961), a slim volume of only eight pages, most of them devoted to stop-changing pedal exercises (thus the genesis of my title—“Pedaling the French”). This one tiny bit of Couperin’s music is the oft-performed Soeur Monique from his 18th Ordre, a work admired and used by many church musicians—some of whom doubtless would be shocked to read in the authoritative reference work on Couperin’s titles, written by Historical Keyboard Society of North America honorary board member Jane Clark Dodgson, that “Sister Monica” may not be a religious “sister,” but refers instead to girls of ill repute, as in a “lady of the night,” according to the definition of the word Soeur by the 17th-century lexicographer Antoine Furetière (1619–1688), “our sisters, as in streetwalkers, or debauched girls.” (See Jane Clark and Derek Connon, ‘The Mirror of Human Life’: Reflections on François Couperin’s Pièces de Claveçin, London: Keyword Press, 2011, p. 170.)

II. Early recorded sounds

Beyond printed music and pedagogical writings, how did the classic French keyboard repertoire fare in the newly emerging medium of harpsichord recordings?

After giving a historical salute to the 16 rare 1908 Berlin wax cylinders that share surface noise with some barely audible Bach performed by Wanda Landowska, the earliest commercial recording of a harpsichord dates from about 1913 and was issued on the Favorite label. It preserves an anonymous performance of a work with at least tangential connections to France: the Passepied from J. S. Bach’s French Overture in B Minor (BWV 831). (See Martin Elste, Meilensteine der Bach-Interpretation, reviewed by Larry Palmer in The Diapason, June 2000.)

More easily accessible today are the earliest harpsichord recordings made in 1920 for the Gramophone Company in England by the Dolmetsch-influenced harpsichordist Violet Gordon Woodhouse (1871–1948). Her repertoire included Couperin’s L’Arlequine from the 23rd Ordre (as played on Great Virtuosi of the Harpsichord, volume 3, Pearl GEMM CD 9242) and Rameau’s Tambourin, from his Suite in E Major. Mrs. Woodhouse became something of a cult figure among British music critics (George Bernard Shaw), upper-class society (the Sitwells), and adventurous musicians (including the avant-garde composer Kaikhosru Shapurji Sorabji [1892–1988]), who wrote of Violet’s powerful musical presentations that her playing was “dignified, moving, and expressive, and of a broad, sedate beauty, completely free from any pedagogic didacticism or stiff-limbed collegiate pedantry.” (Quoted in Jessica Douglas-Home: Violet, The Life and Loves of Violet Gordon Woodhouse, London: The Harvill Press, 1966, p. 228.) This should put many of us in our rightful places, although Sorabji’s own excursions into keyboard literature lasting from four to nine hours in performance (example: a Busoni homage with the title Opus Clavicembalisticum) just might call his own authority into question.

Eight years younger than Woodhouse, the better-known Wanda Landowska (1879–1959) made her first commercial recordings for the Victor Company in 1923, just prior to her American concert debut with the Philadelphia Orchestra. These six sides included short pieces by the three 1685 boys (Handel, Bach, and Scarlatti) as well as the Rigaudon and Tambourin from Rameau’s Suite in E Minor, and what might be considered the first recording of a contemporary harpsichord work, Landowska’s own Bourée d’Auvergne #1. 

Lesser-known players got recorded, too: Marguerite Delcour recorded Couperin’s Le Tic-toc-choc [Ordre 18] in 1924. The following year, 1925, one of Landowska’s Berlin students, Anna Linde, recorded the ubiquitous Rameau Tambourin and the even more ubiquitous Coucou by Daquin. If you recognize Linde’s name it might well be for her edition of Couperin’s L’art de toucher le Claveçin—with its translations into English and German offered side by side with the original French, and the printed music made unique by her Germanically precise “corrections” to the composer’s picturesque (but occasionally unmathematical) beaming of some quick roulades in his preludes. Both of Linde’s recorded legacy pieces sound amateurish enough that I seriously doubt that Sorabji would have enjoyed hearing these performances.

As a matter of history, however, it is quite possible that Anna Linde’s 1925 disc was the first harpsichord performance to be recorded electrically (rather than acoustically), and the difference in sound quality became even clearer in the years immediately following. A 1928 Woodhouse performance of Bach’s Italian Concerto sounds surprisingly present even today, and the performance shows—perhaps best of all her recorded legacy—what her admirers so rightly admired. Indeed her artistry is such that I have thought, often, that had Mrs. Woodhouse needed to earn her living as Landowska did, she could have eclipsed the divine Wanda as a concert harpsichordist. However, as the wife of a titled Englishman she could not make a career onstage for money . . . and that was that! It would have been fascinating to have had two such determined women competing for the title of “the world’s most famous harpsichordist.” 

Realistically, however, Landowska’s tenacity, as well as her superb musical knowledge and sensitivity, should not be denigrated in any way. The 1928 recording of her own second Bourée d’Auvergne (Biddulph LHW 016) especially highlights the rhythmic dimension of her exciting artistry.

In the United States, where Landowska was a welcome visitor during the 1920s, there were several earlier players of the harpsichord; and, not too surprisingly, all of them attempted at least some pieces by French composers. Some of these participants in harpsichord history are nearly forgotten: one of more than passing importance was the Princeton professor Arthur Whiting: a well-received artist in nearby New York City and a campus legend at Princeton, he was known for his ability to attract huge crowds of undergraduates for his popular recitals on both piano and Dolmetsch-Chickering harpsichord. I have not located any recordings by Professor Whiting. The New York Times did mention his concert at Mendelssohn Hall (NYC) on December 11, 1907, which included a Gigue and Rigaudon by Rameau. The unnamed reviewer praised Whiting’s playing as “clear, beautifully phrased, and skillful in ‘registration’ if that term may be used to denote the employment of the different timbres that the instrument affords.”

Writing a letter to the editor of The Times on January 11, 1926, the prominent music educator Daniel Gregory Mason offered a response to a letter from Landowska in which she made the statement that she had “single-handedly [!] restored the harpsichord to its rightful position in the world of music.” In this correspondence Professor Mason called attention to some other “‘Harpsichord Pioneers’—among whom he named the Americans: Mr. Whiting, Miss Pelton-Jones, Miss Van Buren, and Lewis Richards.”

The two ladies differed greatly: Frances Pelton-Jones was one of those wealthy women who could afford to pursue her artistic ambitions (rather similar to the would-be soprano Florence Foster Jenkins). Her recitals in New York were of the club-lady variety; baffled critics most often mentioned the stage decoration and the beauty of Pelton-Jones’s gowns. Lotta Van Buren, however, was a thoroughly professional player and harpsichord technician whose work with Morris Steinart’s instrument collection at Yale was very beneficial, as was her association with Colonial Williamsburg and its program of historical recreations, including musical ones. 

As for Lewis Richards, Mason proceeds: “Mr. Richards, who has played the harpsichord throughout Europe as a member of the Ancient Instrument Society of Paris, was, I believe, the first to appear as a harpsichordist with orchestra (the Minneapolis Symphony) in this country, and contributed much to the interest of Mrs. F. S. Coolidge’s festival in Washington . . .” 

Richards did indeed precede Landowska as the first known harpsichord soloist with a major symphony orchestra in the U. S. He was one of the few American musicians to record commercially in the 1920s. His Brunswick 10-inch discs of The Brook by Ayrlton, Musette en Rondeau by Rameau, Handel’s Harmonious Blacksmith, and the Mozart Rondo alla Turca were played for me by Richards’ daughter, whom I was able to visit in her East Lansing, Michigan, home (on the day following an organ recital I had played there). The sound is somewhat compromised, for I was recording a scratchy 78-rpm disc that spun on an ancient turntable in a garage; but one gets the impression that Mr. Richards was a charismatic and musical player.  

These discs went on to make quite a lot of money in royalties, and Richards actually taught harpsichord at the Michigan State Institute of Music in East Lansing, which almost certainly certifies him as the first formally continuing collegiate teacher of harpsichord to be employed in the United States in the 20th century.

All of these players played early revival instruments. All have, therefore, used their pedal techniques to obtain a more kaleidoscopic range of colors than we may be used to. Of great interest (at least to me) is the recent emergence of curiosity about, and interest in these revival instruments and their playing techniques, frequently demonstrated by questions received from students. One of the finest concert figures of the “pedal” generations was the distinguished Yale professor Ralph Kirkpatrick (now more knowable than previously, courtesy of his niece Meredith Kirkpatrick’s recently published collection of the artist’s letters; see our review in the April 2015 issue). In his early Musicraft recordings, especially those from 1939, we are able to hear the young player show his stuff, just before his 1940 appointment to Yale, displaying superb musical mastery of his Dolmetsch-Chickering harpsichord. From Kirkpatrick’s program that included four individual Couperin pieces, culminating in Les Barricades Mistérieuses, and five movements from Rameau’s E-minor set, I ended this essay with the Rameau Tambourin (as played on The Musicraft Solo Recordings, Great Virtuosi of the Harpsichord, volume 2, Pearl GEMM CD9245). Kirkpatrick’s mesmerizing foot-controlled decrescendo gives a perfect example of his skill in “pedaling the French.”

(From a paper read in Montréal, May 23.)

HKSNA 2015 International Conference in Montréal

Hosted by McGill University’s Schulich School of Music, the fourth annual conclave of the Historical Keyboard Society of North America (May 21–24) offered lectures, mini-recitals, and evening concerts, far too many events for any single auditor to encompass. Two papers that followed mine, Elisabeth Gallat-Morin’s beautifully illustrated “The Presence of French Baroque Keyboard Instruments in New France” and Graham Sadler’s innovative “When Rameau Met Scarlatti? Reflections on a Probable Encounter in the 1720s” attested to the depth of innovative scholarship.

McGill’s instrument roster includes the superb Helmut Wolff organ in Redpath Hall and 15 harpsichords. One third of these came from the workshop of the Montréal builder Yves Beaupré; among the other ten instruments is a 1677 single-manual Italian instrument from the collection of Kenneth Gilbert. This unique historic treasure was available for viewing and playing for small groups of attendees.

The Vermont builder Robert Hicks was the only harpsichord maker who brought an instrument for display. Max Yount demonstrated this eloquent double harpsichord in a masterful recital presentation of Marchand’s Suite in D Minor. Clavichord took center stage for Judith Conrad’s program. Karen Jacob’s thoughtful memorial tribute to Southeastern Historical Keyboard Society founder George Lucktenberg was enhanced by several solicited remembrances from others whose lives had been touched by the late iconic early keyboard figure.

Evening concerts were presented by harpsichordist/organist Peter Sykes and six former students who organized a tribute to McGill organ professor emeritus John Grew. Saturday’s concert brought the final stage of the ninth Aliénor international competition for contemporary harpsichord music. Six winning works (selected by a jury from nearly fifty submitted pieces) were performed by HKSNA President Sonia Lee (Laura Snowden: French Suite), Larry Palmer (Sviatoslav Krutykov: Little Monkey Ten Snapshots), James Dorsa (Ivan Bozicevic: If There is a Place Between, and his own composition Martinique), Andrew Collett (playing his own Sonatina for Harpsichord), and Marina Minkin (Dina Smorgonskaya: Three Dances for Harpsichord). Following an intermission during which the audience submitted ballots naming their three favorite works, Aliénor presented world premieres of two commissioned works for two harpsichords: Edwin McLean’s Sonata No. 2 (2014), played by Beverly Biggs and Elaine Funaro, and Mark Janello’s Concerto for Two (2015), played by Rebecca Pechefsky and Funaro.

And the three pieces chosen by the audience? Smorgonskaya’s Three Dances for Harpsichord, Collett’s Sonatina, and Dorsa’s Martinique. Bravi tutti.

Comments, news items, and questions are always welcome. Address them to Dr. Larry Palmer, e-mail: [email protected].

Harpsichord Workshop IX: SMU-in-Taos

Dr. Nancy S. Ypma teaches organ at McKendree College, Lebanon, Illinois.

SMU's ninth summer harpsichord workshop took place at its Fort Burgwin campus near Taos, New Mexico, August 11-17, 1996. Fourteen registrants from California, Illinois, Missouri, New Mexico, New York, Pennsylvania, Texas, Virginia, and Washington participated in the week-long course led by Jane Clark and Stephen Dodgson (London) and Larry Palmer (Dallas).

Each morning Jane Clark's master class on the keyboard
music of François Couperin focused on the background to the pieces in
his Pièces de Clavecin. Clark's insights into society, royalty, and the history of the time helped to explain  the meanings for many of the titles and gave direction toward an effective interpretation. Participants performed many of the pieces for Ms. Clark, who guided them with comments on performance practices and technique.

Early afternoon sessions were led by Larry Palmer. During
the first four days Dr. Palmer concentrated on the eight preludes of Couperin's
L'art de toucher le clavecin. He emphasized articulation, ornamentation,
and the pedagogical value of these pieces. On the final day, he turned to some
of Bach's Little Preludes. Participants took turns playing for the class,
and Dr. Palmer worked with each student in such a way that all participants,
regardless of background, discovered something new about the music or the
composer.

Later afternoon sessions were in the hands of Stephen
Dodgson, who received his training at the Royal College of Music, London, where
he taught composition and theory for many years. He discussed his long-term
fascination with the harpsichord and his extensive repertoire of solo and
ensemble music for the instrument. Each student had been sent a set of
Dodgson's pieces prior to the class, so many participants opted to play
works for the composer. Dodgson gave special insight into his pieces through
liberal sharing of anecdotes, by the example of his own playing, and by both
coaxing and coaching players through these attractive pieces.

Single- and double-manual instruments by Dowd, Kingston,
Wolf, and Martin had been transported from Dallas for the workshop, so all
participants were able to practice on fine harpsichords in a variety of styles.
Because of the size of the class, everyone had an opportunity to play each
instrument.

In the evenings there was a variety of events throughout the
week. On Monday Larry Palmer gave a recital of works by Louis, François,
and Armand-Louis Couperin; Frescobaldi; J.S. Bach; Martinu; and Dodgson. On
Tuesday Richard Kingston, resident harpsichord maker for the week, lectured on
harpsichord styles as the class moved from Italian to French to German-style
instruments. On Wednesday many people chose to attend the Santa Fe Opera
production of Stravinsky's The Rake's Progress (which, fittingly
enough, includes harpsichord in its scoring). On Thursday evening Jane Clark
played works by François Couperin, Domenico Scarlatti, Frescobaldi, and
her husband Stephen Dodgson, whose Carillon for Two Harpsichords concluded her
program. Larry Palmer was her partner for this performance.

The week concluded on Saturday with a lunch and impromptu
harpsichord recital (by any participant who wished to play) at the home of
Charles and Susan Mize (outside the village of Tesuque, near Santa Fe).
Hummingbirds swooped to their feeders on the patio of this charming adobe
retreat while workshop participants enjoyed a gourmet lunch and music in a
relaxed atmosphere.

Harpsichord Workshop IX was an inspiring and invigorating
week of study for all the prticipants, amateur performers and professional
musicians alike.

Dandrieu’s harpsichord music

Hot on the heels of May’s review of a compact disc devoted to keyboard works by Haydn, June’s feature is a recording recently issued by the same company, Encelade, this time entirely devoted to harpsichord music by Jean-François Dandrieu (1682–1738).

Some organists may recognize Dandrieu’s name, especially if they play his best-known composition for our instrument, the Offertoire for Easter: O filii et filiae, a piece that occasionally appears on the playlist for organ competitions. Searching for a large volume of Dandrieu’s harpsichord music that I vaguely remembered as being somewhere in my music library, I came across Ernest White’s St. Mary’s Press edition of a hefty selection of organ pieces by Dandrieu in White’s spiral-bound Well-Tempered Organist series: fifty-five pages of French Baroque organ music that I had not perused since high school days.

A quick look at our composer’s biography raised my interest level. Born into an artistic Parisian family, Jean-François, a child prodigy, made his first known appearance as a harpsichordist at age five, performing for King Louis XIV and his court. (Shades of Mozart!) By age 18 he was playing the organ at the Church of St. Merry, made famous by the composer Nicolas LeBègue. Five years later, Dandrieu was named titular organist of that venerable religious edifice. In 1721 he was appointed one of the four organists of the Royal Chapel. 

David Fuller, in a brief Dandrieu article for the New Grove Encyclopedia of Music (1980) ranked Jean-François as the third most gifted composer of his era, after François Couperin and Jean-Philippe Rameau. Another authority on French Baroque keyboard music, Mark Kroll, does not give Dandrieu so exalted a station, but he does suggest in his chapter on “French Masters” [published in 18th-Century Keyboard Music, edited by Robert L. Marshall; New York: Routledge, 2003] that there is much of interest to be noted in some fingerings and manual change indications found in the composer’s third (and final) major publication.

Like quite a number of the Haydn disc’s selections, Dandrieu’s harpsichord works were completely unknown to me. Eventually I did find that hefty tome containing the composer’s three major harpsichord publications of 1724, 1728, and 1734 in a single-volume twentieth-century edition by Pauline Aubert and Brigitte François-Sappey, Trois Livres de Clavecin, published by the Schola Cantorum, Paris, in 1973—a massive undertaking filling nearly 200 pages. Incidentally, friends whom I queried for information concerning more recent Dandrieu editions were not able to cite any.

The Dandrieu disc, in addition to an unfamiliar repertoire, also showcases a harpsichordist and three instrument makers who are equally unfamiliar. I am delighted to report that Marouan Mankar-Bennis plays superbly in his first solo harpsichord recording, and builders Andreas Linos and Jean-François Brun, the makers of the 2014 Flemish-style harpsichord after Joannes Couchet (seventeenth century), utilized for tracks 1–17, and Ryo Yoshida, builder of the eighteenth-century French-style instrument constructed in 1989, employed for tracks 18–24, maintain similarly lofty standards. Indeed, I could go so far as to suggest that this Encelade disc might well turn out to be my favorite harpsichord recording of 2018!

A clever program

[Note: page numbers in bold type indicate the location of the individual selections in the Schola Cantorum edition.]

Monsieur Mankar-Bennis has arranged his concert to form what he has dubbed a “harpsichord opera” comprising a Prologue (tracks 1–5) and Five Acts. In cogent program notes he describes this creation, beginning with the one piece not found in my Dandrieu volume, a two-minute youthful Prelude (1705), played on the Lute (Buff) stop to suggest an antecedent of the eighteenth-century harpsichord repertoire, followed by four selections from the composer’s Third Book (1734): La Précieuse [Courante, p. 144], La Constante [Sarabande, p. 145], La Gracieuse [Chaconne, p. 148], and Le Badin [Menuet, p. 151].

Act I (tracks 6–10) commences with an overture: La Magicienne, [p. 100], a sequence comprising La Pastorale (excerpts), Las Bergers Rustiques and Héroïques, and Le Bal Champêtre [from Book Two; pp. 107–108], ending with La Naturèle from Book Three [p. 134].

Act II (tracks 11–14), Les Tendres Reproches (Book II, p. 104), Le Concert de Oiseaux: Le Remage, Les Amours, L’Hymen (Book I) [pp. 32–35].

Act III (tracks 15–17), La Plaintive
[p. 1], La Musette and Double [p. 7], Les Caractères de la Guerre [Book I; p. 14].

Act IV (tracks 18–19), Le Concert des Muses, Suite du Concert des Muses (Passacaglia) [Book II, p. 92].

Act V (tracks 20–24), La Lully (p. 81), La Corelli and Double (p. 83), La Lyre d’Orphée (p. 86), La Figurée (p. 87) [Book II]; La Tympanon (Book I, p. 46).   

Further delights

The pieces heard on the recording total 24 individual movements, 23 of which are to be found in the Schola Cantorum edition. The entire volume contains 104 separate movements. (Dandrieu’s Book I comprises 37 individual character pieces in five suites. Book II, 31 movements in six suites. Book III, 36 works in eight suites.) I recommend many of these charming pieces, most of which seem to be less technically difficult than similar movements by Couperin and Rameau. Indeed, I am disappointed that I did not know these compositions earlier in my career. They would have made excellent additions to the French harpsichord repertoire, perhaps immediately following Couperin’s L’art de toucher le clavecin Preludes, especially for less technically gifted students! Oh well, as Oscar Wilde quipped, “Youth is wasted on the young.” I have been aware for quite some time that, ironically, by the time we know enough to teach others, it is nearly time to retire.

I have not checked every note in the Trois Livres compilation, but thus far I have found only one misprint: in the Double of La Champêtre (page 147) measure three of the Reprise is missing the bass clef, needed for the following measure to make musical sense. Should you find other suspect notes or missing alterations, please let us know.

For ordering information and performer’s biography, visit www.encelade.net.

Mark Stevenson

British harpsichord maker Mark Stevenson died of cancer on July 4, 2000, aged 56. Born in Cambridge in 1943, Stevenson studied art history at St. John's College. By age 30 he was working full-time as a builder of harpsichords. More than 200 of his finely-crafted, historically-inspired instruments are in use in many countries throughout the world.

Bruges 2001

The 38th Early Music Festival in Bruges, Belgium, will include the 13th playing of its well-known harpsichord competition, 1–8 August 2001, as well as a separate competition for fortepianists, 5–8 August. Both events are open to players born after 31 December 1968.  Members of the international jury include Borbala Dobozy, Jesper Christensen, Gustav Leonhardt, Davitt Moroney, Ludger Rèmy, Christophe Rousset, and chairman Johan Huys.

Harpsichord competition repertoire for the first round consists of François Couperin: Prelude 5 from L'Art de toucher le clavecin; J. S. Bach: Sinfonia 12 in A, BWV 798; and Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in C, K 421 (L 252). Those advancing to the semi-final round will play G. Salvatore: Toccata Prima; Byrd: Fantasia number 46 in D minor; Chambonnières: Pavane L'Entretien des Dieux; J.S. Bach: Prelude and Fugue in B minor, WTC II (BWV 893); and Scarlatti: Sonata in B-flat, K 57 (L 38). Pieces by Rameau (Allemande, Courante, Sarabande, and Les Trois Mains from Nouvelles Suites, 1728) and the Bach Concerto in A, BWV 1055 are on the docket for the final event of the competition.

For application forms or further information, contact the Festival Office, Collaert Mansionstraat 30, B-8000 Brugge; telephone 0032 50/33 22 83; <http://www.musica-antiqua.com&gt;;  email:<[email protected]>.

Bärenreiter Urtexts of Bach Harpsichord Concerti now available

In light of the competition requirements above, it is well to note that the Neue Bach Ausgabe edition of Bach's complete Keyboard Concerti (NBA VII/4) is now available as separate, individual concerti from Bärenreiter-Verlag of Kassel. These scores reflect the scholarship and care expected from the new Bach edition, and the reductions of the string parts for a second keyboard avoid unwanted doublings and inappropriate slurs or other markings. Clean and easy on the eyes, these will doubtless become the editions of choice for most players who learn these concerti. (The Concerto in A, BWV 1055, is BA 5227, priced at DM 24, with string parts also available at DM 6.50 each.)

Recent Issues of Early Music

Early Music for May 2000 contains Andreas Beurmann's rebuttal letter concerning insinuations that his early Iberian harpsichords are not authentic. In the issue for August, Edward Corp's brilliant reconstruction of Couperin's probable early biography is to be found in "François Couperin and the Stuart Court at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, 1691–1712: A New Interpretation."

Bach's Last Cantata

French author Philippe Delelis has written a suspense-filled novel (completely fictitious) concerning the missing cantatas of Johann Sebastian Bach. Set in modern-day Paris, the book is replete with references to musical craft and number symbolism, especially that found in The Musical Offering, as well as a goodly number of murders. There are clever connections, as well, to the lives and music of Mozart, Mahler, and Webern. I emphasize (as does the author) that the work is pure fiction, but it is a fascinating read, and an absorbing postscript for this Bach-celebratory year. The recent English translation (by Sue Rose) of Delelis's La Dernière Cantate is available from The Toby Press, London (tobypress.com). ISBN 1 902881 31 1 (Paperback).

News items and features for these columns are welcome. Address them to Dr. Larry Palmer, Division of Music, Meadows School of the Arts, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75275. Email: <[email protected]>.

Larry Palmer is harpsichord editor of THE DIAPASON.

Guilty Pleasures: Reading, Listening, and Viewing

Recreational reading and several reissued recordings from the middle of the 20th century are recommended for pleasure, guilty or innocent:

The Soprano Wore Falsettos by Mark Schweizer (Hopkinsville, KY: St. James Music Press, 2006; ISBN 0-9721211-6-1)
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The fourth in Schweizer’s madcap series of liturgical mysteries regales readers with another adroit mingling of a Raymond Chandleresque typewritten tale presented within the story of churchly shenanigans at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in St. Germaine, North Carolina.
The current volume includes shoe polishing for Maundy Thursday (a contemporary worship successor to traditional foot washing); a Pirate Eucharist in which “Arrgh! Alleluia’s” abound; a restaurant called Buxtehooters; references to compositions by Scarlatti, Rachmaninov, Mozart, Fauré, Froberger, Beethoven, and Casals, with German beer, Fräuleins, AND a three-manual Flentrop organ [page 112!] for “local” color. Not to be overlooked is a fortuitously named character, the substitute organist Mrs. Agnes Day. Highly recommended for readers struggling with the demands of the Lenten season. And others.

Choices: A Novel by Paul Wolfe (Santa Fe: Sunstone Press, 2006; ISBN 0-86534-485-X) (telephone: 800/243-5644 for orders).
During several conversations with the author of Choices, he described his forthcoming book as “Jane Austen with sex,” and this entertainingly wicked publication delivers on this promise. Wolfe’s story is set in Italy, primarily at the international music festival of “Lospello,” where devoted manager Ricardo Ricci keeps things on an even keel. Keeping a relationship with his longtime companion and love Katherine presents the other major challenge of Ricardo’s life. Adding George, a young and comely narcissist, to the festival’s management staff stirs the erotic mix to boiling, and beyond. Sly commentaries on the music festival scene vie with various steamy couplings to keep readers turning the pages. A harpsichordist, the fresh toy for the festival’s maestro Gianfranco Connery, makes a timely appearance [page 368]. Recommended for mature readers only.
Paul Wolfe, Texas born, studied harpsichord with Wanda Landowska together with compadre Rafael Puyana from 1955 until Madame’s death in 1959. During these years he recorded a number of solo harpsichord discs for the Experiences Anonymes label. A few years later, upon the closing of the recording company, these tapes were purchased by Lyrichord Records. Wolfe’s discs, offering splendid playing on an early, pre-Landowska-model Pleyel harpsichord and on his Rutkowski and Robinette nine-foot instrument with sub-unison stop, have been reissued by Lyrichord in two compact disc albums entitled When They Had Pedals, comprising works by Frescobaldi along with English keyboard music from the Tudor Age to the Restoration [LEMS-8033] and six Handel Suites (numbers 3, 8, 11, 13, 14, and 15) [LEMS-8034].

By the legendary Landowska herself, two recordings from her American years have been combined in one compact disc for the Testament label (SBT 1380): Wanda Landowska: Dances of Poland and A Treasury of Harpsichord Music. Originally entitledLandowska Plays for Paderewski (the noted pianist was, late in life, prime minister of Poland), Landowska’s program includes a wide-ranging variety of unusual pieces: short works by Michal Kleofas Oginski, Jacob le Polonais, Diomedes Cato, Landowska herself, and the iconic national composer Fryderyk Chopin (Mazurka in C, opus 56, number 2). If there were ever any doubt about the harpsichordist’s Polish roots, her magisterial rhythmic control in these essential ethnic offerings would squelch any possible argument to the contrary.
Not the least part of the enjoyment provided by this compilation comes from new and original comments in an essay by British harpsichordist Jane Clark. She presents a fresh perspective on two selections by Rameau (Air grave pour les deux Polonois) and François Couperin (Air dans le goût Polonois), noting that the 18th-century French did not think highly of their neighbor nation’s chivalric etiquette, thus suggesting that these short pieces might be satirical rather than adulatory.
The second program on this disc was issued originally in 1957 as a collection of short works recorded at various venues during the year 1946. Highlights include Couperin’s Les Barricades Mistérieuses and L’Arlequine, Handel’s “Harmonious Blacksmith” Variations from the Great Suite in E Major, two welcome Mozart miniatures, plus the longer Rondo in D, K. 485 (splendid reminders of Landowska’s lovely way with the Salzburg master, more often played by her on the piano than the harpsichord), and ending with a signature performance of Bach’s Vivaldi arrangement (Concerto in D, BWV 972), at the end of which, loathe to depart, she iterates again and again, in descending registers, the third movement’s signature motive—an idiosyncratic and unforgettable addition to Bach’s transcription.

Viewing Landowska: Uncommon Visionary, a 57-minute documentary by Barbara Attie, Janet Goldwater, and Diane Pontius first issued on video tape in 1997, should be required of all who prize the harpsichord revival. Now available in DVD format (VAI DVD 4246), the new issue has more than 50 minutes of additional material, including all the extant footage of Landowska playing the harpsichord, and an audio-only reissue of her November 1933 first recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations (made in Paris). The reminiscences from several now-departed major figures who knew Landowska intimately—especially her longtime companion Denise Restout; friend, Polish singer Doda Conrad; and recording engineer John Pfeiffer—are irreplaceable and especially illuminating as the great 20th-century harpsichordist’s life recedes ever further into history. It is delightful, as well, to see some younger images of other commentators in the documentary—Alice Cash, Skip Sempé, Willard Martin, and, yes, this writer—as we appeared and sounded in the waning years of the past millennium. But the major impact of this video disc stems from Landowska’s inimitable playing, reminding us again and again why she became (and, for many, remains) the preferred exponent of that strange and wonderful instrument she toiled so assiduously to revive, THE HARPSICHORD.

Send news items or comments about Harpsichord News to Dr. Larry Palmer, Division of Music, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75275; .