Harpsichord Notes: Johann Mattheson CDs

Equally at home with historical keyboards and the piano, Michael Delfín is a top prizewinner of the Jurow International Harpsichord Competition and is a member of The Diapason’s 20 Under 30 Class of 2021. Based in Cincinnati, Ohio, he is artistic director of Seven Hills Baroque. Michael Delfín’s website: michaeldelfin.com

A new edition of Mattheson’s Fingersprache

Die Wohlklingende Fingersprache (The Melodious Talking-Fingers), by Johann Mattheson, edited by Colin Booth and Matthew Brown. Soundboard, 2020, 70 pages, with preface in English and German, $37.00. Available from ravencd.com.

Two years ago, the British publishing house Soundboard unveiled a new edition of Johann Mattheson’s largely neglected Die Wohlklingende Fingersprache, best translated as “The Melodious Talking Fingers.” Edited by Colin Booth and Matthew Brown, this publication presents the performer with both a clean reprint of the original 1730s text as well as a historical preface, performance practice suggestions, and critical commentary. Considering the rarity of reliable editions of this work, Soundboard’s issue is a must-have for all historical keyboardists.

German composer Johann Mattheson published the Fingersprache in two halves, in 1735 and 1737, and dedicated it to his one-time rival and subsequently colleague George Frederick Handel. The work consists of twelve fugues as well as various dances and character pieces interspersed throughout the work. A second edition followed in 1749; though merely a reissue of the original with a French title, it specifies the harpsichord as the intended medium for enjoyment. Breitkopf & Härtel presented a new edition just over two centuries later, edited by Lothar Hoffman-Erbrecht, which presented musicians with considerable errors. Booth and Brown have corrected many of these errors, and with the addition of substantial commentary, their work fulfills a need in the historical performance field, particularly in drawing attention to Mattheson’s much-neglected output.

Mattheson’s music utilizes the same vocabulary as that of his German compatriots Handel, Johann Sebastian Bach, and Georg Philipp Telemann, but he developed his own dialect through his fugal writing and often singular dances, both of which reveal a taste for harmony and phrasing bordering on idiosyncratic. The Fingersprache’s creativity in fugal writing constantly entertains the reader, who will encounter various contrapuntal games such as multiple subjects and/or countersubjects within the same fugue, choral-sounding textures thrown in between highly idiomatic keyboard writing, and a rich figural vocabulary stemming from Mattheson’s German roots. In addition, Mattheson demonstrates a thorough knowledge of other styles such as the French clavecinists in Seriosità, an allemande-like character piece, and also a learned style combined with galant virtuosity in Fugue X for three subjects. He nonetheless closes with his Germanic roots in the final fugue, which takes as its subject the chorale tune Werde munter, mein Gemüte.

Booth and Brown provide details of Mattheson’s life that allow the performer some context into the Fingersprache’s origins and transmission. Their commentary situates the collection within the world of Bach and Handel, sometimes comparing the keyboard music of the three but more commonly highlighting the singularity of Mattheson’s unique writing.

As very little performance practice exists specifically for Mattheson’s music, Booth’s brief summary of practices will serve the performer well as a starting point for further exploration. Although sources themselves are left to the performer to explore, any keyboardist who knows of Mattheson will also know of
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and likely Johann Kirnberger and other Germans who penned guidance for keyboardists of their day. One might also benefit from consulting Booth’s liner notes from his recent recording of the Fingersprache for a more personal take on the music (see “Harpsichord Notes,” November 2021 issue, page 11). After all, performers are the ones actually getting their hands dirty!

Also included in this publication is a critical report by Brown, complete with a statement of editorial practice. A policy of “refraining from intervention” guided the editors, and their critical report reflects this practice. They state ambiguities in the original edition, rather than merely correcting them without comment, as many twentieth-century urtext editions tended to do. The curious performer may consult the original editions on the International Music School Library Project (IMSLP, imslp.org) to verify accuracy.

Booth and Brown’s publication deserves a place in the library of any serious historical keyboardist. As original sources become more and more easily obtainable, the need for updated, clean editions requires a critical approach to editing. Keyboardists will readily appreciate this painstaking publication that brings to light a neglected yet considerable work of the High Baroque.

Colin Booth’s website: colinbooth.co.uk

A member of The Diapason’s 20 Under 30 Class of 2021, Curtis Pavey is a graduate of the doctoral program at the University of Cincinnati where he studied harpsichord under Michael Unger and piano under James Tocco. In fall 2023, he will be the assistant professor of piano pedagogy and performance at the University of Missouri. More information is available at curtispavey.com.

Fischer: Eight Suites of 1698, Colin Booth - harpsichords. Soundboard, SBCD-222, $16.98. Available from ravencd.com and colinbooth.co.uk. 

Harpsichordist Colin Booth’s latest recording focuses on the music of German composer Johann Caspar Ferdinand Fischer’s (1656–1746) suites from 1698 published as Musikalisches Blumen-Büschlein. The recording, finished in August 2021, appears to be the only available complete recording of this collection, offering listeners an excellent opportunity to hear this music in its entirety. 

Fischer’s Musikalisches Blumen-Büschlein was originally published as Les pièces de clavessin in 1696, but Fischer enlarged and revised it, and it was published again in 1698 under the new title. The work contains eight suites that comprise a variety of different dances. Each suite opens with a praeludium unique and stylistically different from the others, similar to Bach’s partitas. The ensuing set of dances in each suite differs greatly, and most do not contain the traditional “core movements” (allemande, courante, sarabande, and gigue) as mentioned in the CD liner notes. Booth believes that Fischer’s collection functions as a “survey” of contemporary French dance suites, which allows listeners and performers to become familiar with genres such as plainte (lament), variation sets, branle, and other dance types. 

In his detailed liner notes, Booth discusses Fischer’s life and works and additionally how these works influenced other German composers of the time, namely J. S. Bach, G. F. Handel, and Johann Mattheson. Several of Fischer’s preludes contain textures that Bach borrowed for his Well-Tempered Clavier, Book I, and it is clear that Bach was quite familiar with this set. Suite VI is perhaps the most interesting of the collection, containing the largest praeludium of the entire collection, which Bach later used in his first B-flat-major prelude. The influence of Fischer’s work on Handel is also apparent in this work, given Handel’s later use of the variation form in his suites, in addition to the fact that Handel’s suites are also inconsistent with the types of dances included in each suite. 

Booth recorded this collection on two different instruments from his workshop. The first instrument is a seventeenth-century Italian harpsichord that includes a short-octave bass. Both harpsichords are strung in brass, but the Italian harpsichord is tuned at A = 392 in Werckmeister III. The other harpsichord, a French double manual based on an instrument from 1661, provides a slight tonal contrast. In the liner notes, Booth clarifies the need for a short-octave bass given that the first and sixth suites in the collection require its use; however, he also wanted the additional registration benefits of the double-manual harpsichord.

Throughout the recording, Booth’s performance is strong, and each suite sounds unique from the others. Booth used a variety of registrations and frequently added ornamentation to the repeats of dances. Each dance is infused with character and careful attention to details. The disc includes many highlights; among them are the large “Praeludium” from Suite VI, the deeply pensive “Plainte” from Suite VII, and the rigorous “Chaconne” from Suite VIII. Perhaps most impressive, though, is Booth’s handling of Suite V, which contains an aria with eight variations. Booth performs this suite with varied approaches to articulation, dialogue between the different voices, and a clear arch to unite the whole suite as a singular work.

For those unfamiliar with Fischer’s music, this disc serves as an excellent introduction to his first collection of harpsichord suites. Booth performs Fischer’s harpsichord suites in a convincing manner that helps connect stylistic elements from France to the harpsichord literature of the eighteenth century.

J. S. Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier, by Colin Booth, harpsichord. Soundboard, Book One, SBCD-218, $16.98; Book Two, SBCD-219, $16.98. Available from ravencd.com and
colinbooth.co.uk.

Colin Booth, harpsichordist and harpsichord maker, performs Bach’s complete Well-Tempered Clavier in these two CD sets. Making use of his own harpsichord, a copy of an instrument by Nicholas Celini from 1661 built in 2016, Booth here performs a convincing rendition of one of Bach’s most important works for keyboard instruments. The discs were recorded between 2018 and 2019 and demonstrate Booth’s vast knowledge of Bach’s compositional style and notational language.

Booth has a special relationship with the harpsichord used in this recording. Before building his own copy of this double-manual instrument, Booth restored Celini’s original 1661 harpsichord in 2013. In replicating this harpsichord, Booth expanded the compass and strung it in brass. The brass stringing sounds beautiful and allows for exquisite clarity of contrapuntal lines. While the instrument has three choirs of strings, Booth only uses the two 8′ sets of strings—individually and in combination—noting that he wanted to preserve the contrapuntal clarity as much as possible. Regarding tuning, Booth uses Kirnberger III, preferring its conservative qualities while preserving unique characteristics for each of the different keys.

The playing on these discs is of exceptional quality, demonstrating Booth’s thoughtful approach to musical expression, articulation, and pacing at the harpsichord. There are many highlights throughout this recording: the endurance and structural considerations given to the extensive fugues in A minor and B minor (Book One), effective ornamentation in the G-minor prelude and the C-sharp-minor fugue (Book Two), and contrapuntal clarity within the massive five-voice fugues from Book One (C-sharp minor, B-flat minor). Booth’s attention to detail is audible throughout, sensitively shaping phrases with clear articulation and direction. Of particular interest is Booth’s regular use of rhythmic inequality and unevenness in his playing; sometimes the inequality is quite subtle, other times, less so. It is often effective, particularly in the D-major fugue from Book One, in which French overture performance practice and elements of the notation seem to disagree. Some of Booth’s ideas are unconventional—for instance his approach to the rhythmic gestures at the beginning of the D-major prelude from Book Two. In his choice of tempi, Booth diligently considers meter along with character effectively. The F-minor fugue of Book One, as an example, comes to life in Booth’s unhurried rendition with sliding chromatic lines, whereas the grace of the F-minor prelude from Book Two becomes audible in Booth’s fluent choice of tempo. Listening to the entire collection is rewarding and reveals so many beautiful and thoughtful ideas.

In addition to his performances, Booth has included fantastic liner notes for both CD sets. The essays are lengthy, including a variety of information about historical context, model compositions, tuning considerations, and thoughts on his interpretation. The liner notes go far beyond an introduction to this repertoire, thoroughly breaking down recent scholarly debate on tuning and suggesting ideas for future performers to consider in their own interpretations.

Altogether, these CD sets feature outstanding playing, musically and technically, from Booth. His intimate knowledge of the harpsichord, and particularly this harpsichord, helps him to bring out the best of its beautiful sonic qualities. This recording absolutely deserves a listen and a place among other important recordings of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier.

Prelude to Twilight

Dark Harpsichord Music, by Colin Booth. Soundboard, SBCD 203, 2023, $16.98. Available from 
ravencd.com.

Jean-Henri D’Anglebert: Prelude in G Minor; Armand-Louis Couperin: Allemande in G Major; Johann Mattheson: Air in G Minor; Louis Couperin: Prelude in F Major; Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach: “Andante” from Sonata in F Major, W62/6; D’Anglebert: Prelude in D Minor; Johann Sebastian Bach: “Chaconne in A minor” from Violin Partita in D Minor, transcribed by Booth; François Couperin: “Prelude in A Major” from l’Art de Toucher le Clavecin; Louis Andriessen: Overture to Orpheus; Louis Couperin: Passacaille in G Minor.

This album is the replication of a program that Colin Booth presented in the Great Hall at Dartington, England, on a summer’s evening in 1995, a performance involving gradually dimmed candlelight throughout the program until only twilight remained with birdsong accompanying. With such an evocative title, one may wonder what music will unfold and how, and Mr. Booth’s compelling album invites the listener to sit with and absorb equally compelling music. As one discovers throughout this album, the moving selection of harpsichord works is never truly “dark,” i.e., without light. Rather, Booth’s own note on the Andriessen work speaks to the theme of the entire program: “exploring at length, and in a limited range of tonalities, a mood of subtly varied introspection.”

Without question the objets d’art of this album are the prelude and postlude of sounds of nature, and the improvisatory links between works complement the atmospheric approach to programming. Booth’s brief improvisatory links guide the listener through both changes of key and of nuance between the works of Mattheson and Louis Couperin, and then C. P. E. Bach, D’Anglebert, and J. S. Bach. The shortest of links is a mere five seconds and opens an unmeasured prelude in a relative minor key to the piece preceding it. The other two links are over twenty seconds and are comprised of more elaborate improvisatory material.

After an atmospheric presentation of birdsong, the first sound of the harpsichord is a D’Anglebert prélude non mesuré in G minor. Booth gently acquaints the listener with this new timbre emerging from the twilight, and his pacing is a foretaste of the sweetness to come. Armand-Louis Couperin’s “Allemande in G Major” from the 1751 Pièces de clavecin smoothly follows the D’Anglebert and graces the listener with its richness and suave character. Couperin’s exploration of the lower, richer, and indeed darker register of the harpsichord renders Booth’s selection of the work highly appropriate. A graceful “Air” from the second of Mattheson’s two suites in G minor from the 1741 publication follows. It is an ambling piece and contains a blending of French and German styles common with Mattheson’s works. Booth tastefully changes registration between a single 8′ and the lute stop. (If one listens to Booth’s other albums, one will find considerable creativity in registration.)

The grander of Louis Couperin’s two préludes non mesuré in F Major follows a brief improvisatory link, and the listener is invited to sit with a soliloquy-like statement from the pen of the first remembered Couperin. Booth’s timing in works of this genre becomes somehow predictable, especially in ornamental gestures that contain repeated notes, which come across as accents more than graceful additions to texture. In the French dance movements, one may observe a similar predictability in Booth’s inegalité, occasionally preventing one from enjoying these magnificent dances as entire structures comprising significant harmonic events and flowing passagework between them.

The linking of French claveciniste repertoire to a German Rococo sonata movement may strike the listener as odd, but the suave nature of the C. P. E. Bach “Andante” movement follows the smoothness of the Couperin prelude well. Booth’s graceful ornaments and creative fermata improvisations serve the placement of this German andante between two French claveciniste works. The subsequent D’Anglebert prelude arrests the listener with its registration and its frequently breathless pacing. The agitation Booth brings to this performance perhaps prepares the listener for the scope of the Bach “Chaconne” to come, following an appropriately solemn link. Perhaps the pièce de résistance of this album is Booth’s transcription of Bach’s monumental “Chaconne in D Minor” for solo violin, transcribed to A minor in this rendition. Booth’s performance effectively highlights the dance element to this massive work and allows the listener to follow the natural unfolding of Bach’s writing. Rather than create a virtuosic transcription à la Busoni or merely replicate the backbone of the work à la Brahms, Booth both honors and amplifies Bach’s original harmonic and motivic structure, adding material idiomatic to the harpsichord’s sound and textural capabilities while leaving the core of the work intact. Booth also utilizes his harpsichord’s registration to great effect, thus showcasing contrasting sections and highlighting the work’s structure. This is among the most engaging performances on this album and worth the lengthy listen. (Interested harpsichordists may find Booth’s transcription in the key of D minor at https://www.colinbooth.co.uk/.)

From the darkness of the chaconne’s end, a gentle glimmer of light emerges in the François Couperin “Prelude in A Major” from L’Art De Toucher Le Clavecin. Some of the Bach’s energy may have carried over into this performance, as Booth takes a little time to settle into the differing affect of the work. The only contemporary piece on the program, Overture to Orpheus, comes from the pen of Louis Andriessen, a Dutch composer recognized for his early serialism and neoclassicism, and later for his minimalism. Booth’s performance emphasizes the score’s tranquillo markings, perhaps placing the mind at ease as twilight falls. Whether the piece ponders, dances, races, or waits, it must be experienced as Andriessen himself described it, “prelude-playing.” The number of improvisation-based works on this album lead up to this one piece, which surpasses them all in length and as such must not just be listened to, but absorbed, even accepted.

The final work on the album, a gentle Passacaille in G Minor by Louis Couperin, cleanses the palate and allows the listener a final respite before a night’s rest. The sweetness of the middle G-major section in particular lifts the spirit from the darker sonorities of this album, and the final G minor seems less heavy than the solemn register of the harpsichord may indicate. The final birdsong becomes all the more meaningful. Having listened to several of Colin Booth’s albums, I can confidently state that this is my favorite so far. From start to finish, its originality engages the listener, who is transported into a mysterious twilight and beyond.

A member of The Diapason’s 20 Under 30 Class of 2021 (see the May 2021 issue, page 19), Curtis Pavey is a graduate of the doctoral program at the University of Cincinnati’s College-Conservatory of Music where he studied harpsichord with Michael Unger and piano with James Tocco. More information is available at curtispavey.com.

Fogliano to Froberger: A Century of Ricercars, performed by Colin Booth, harpsichord and ottavino. SBCD-221, $16.98. Available from ravencd.com and colinbooth.co.uk.

Ricerchare di Julio da Modena per musica ficta in sol per la via di G sol re ut, Julio of Modena; Ricerchare de Jacobo fogliano, Ricerchada di Jacobo fogliano do Modena, Jacobo Fogliano; Ricercar secondo, Girolamo Frescobaldi; Recercada del primo tono per b mollo, Claudio Veggio; Ricerchare de Jacobo fogliano da modena, Fogliano; Ricercar Terzo, Frescobaldi; Ricercar I, Jacob Froberger; La fugitiva Claudius a.4,
Veggio (?); Ricercar Ottavo, Obligo di non Uscir di Grado, Frescobaldi; Ricercar IV, Froberger; Ricercare di Jocobo fogliono da modena, Fogliano; Recercado per b mollo del primo tono, Veggio; Ricercar Nono, con Quattro Soggetti, Frescobaldi; Recercar del primo tono, Veggio; Ricercar V, Froberger; Recercada per b Quadro del quorto tono, Veggio; Ricercor II, Froberger; Recercada VII, Veggio (?); Recercoda per b Quadro del primo tono, Veggio.

Harpsichordist and harpsichord maker Colin Booth recently recorded a collection of ricercars from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The recording includes works of nearly forgotten sixteenth-century composers such as Giacomo Fogliano, Julio of Modena, and Claudio Veggio, as well as works of Girolamo Frescobaldi and Johann Jacob Froberger. Displaying a great variety of different characters, affects, and styles, this recording also features several of Booth’s harpsichords, creating a fascinating sonic tour of the history of the ricercar.

In his liner notes, Booth details the rich history of the ricercar, beginning with its origins as a piece originally for the lute or bass viol. The ricercars of the sixteenth century invited significant ornamentation by the performer and were freer in nature. The ricercar later developed into a stricter compositional form by the seventeenth century, allowing composers to demonstrate more complexity in counterpoint and form. To represent the early style of ricercar, Booth chose works by Giacomo Fogliano (1468–1548), his pupil Julio of Modena (1498–1561), and Claudio Veggio (ca. 1510–?), all composers of the sixteenth century from northern Italy. Their music, which exists in manuscript form at the Collegiate Church at Castell’Arquato, incorporates a wide variety of different approaches to the ricercar. To contrast this, Booth chose works of Frescobaldi and his pupil Froberger, exemplifying the radical changes to the ricercar genre and form.

For this recording, Booth used three different Italian-style keyboards including two harpsichords and an ottavino, a smaller instrument pitched an octave higher. In the liner notes of the CD, each track is labeled with the instrument that Booth used so that listeners can follow him as he alternates between the different keyboards.

The ottavino has a bright and resonant sound aided by limited damping. It is crafted after an original instrument from the seventeenth century, originally built by an anonymous builder of the time.

Besides this, Booth uses two different harpsichords. Described as a small, single-strung harpsichord, Booth’s sixteenth-century harpsichord used in this recording is pitched at A=440. The other instrument, which Booth refers to as a large double-strung harpsichord, is a seventeenth-century-style instrument with a larger compass necessary for several of the selections. The instrument is pitched lower, creating a mellower, but very sustained sound.

For more information about these instruments, listeners should view Booth’s website, which contains further information about this recording project and several YouTube videos demonstrating this music on his own instruments. The use of several very different keyboards throughout the recording varies the sound and adds to the appeal of this captivating program.

Booth’s playing is musically sensitive and compelling throughout. Claudio Veggio’s Recercada del primo tono per b mollo is played with a flowing approach to the musical lines and gestures. Booth plays Fogliano’s Ricerchare with a persuasive sense of timing, highlighting the stately aspects of the affect. Frescobaldi’s Ricercar Ottavo, Obligo di non Uscir di Grado, an eclectic piece containing no intervals of a second, is played with a probing spirit on the ottavino. While listening to Froberger’s Ricercar I, one can hear how Booth brings out the surprising intervals and shape of the subject to great effect. In Froberger’s Ricercare V, Booth demonstrates his capacity for lyrical sound, shaping the phrases with significant care. The disc also includes extended works of Frescobaldi, Froberger, and Veggio; the latter’s Recercada per b Quadro del primo tono closes the disc in dramatic, virtuosic fashion.

Listeners can expect to find a number of unfamiliar gems on this recording by Booth. His thoughtfully designed program demonstrates the vast diversity within the ricercar genre, and because of this, Booth successfully engages listeners on an exploration of this fascinating repertoire.

Colin Booth’s website: colinbooth.co.uk

Equally at home with historical keyboards and the piano, Michael Delfín is a top prizewinner of the Jurow International Harpsichord Competition and is a member of The Diapason’s 20 Under 30 Class of 2021. Based in Cincinnati, Ohio, he is artistic director of Seven Hills Baroque. For information: michaeldelfin.com.

Foes find friendship: Händel vs. Scarlatti

Händel vs. Scarlatti, Cristiano Gaudio, harpsichord. L’Encelade, ECL 2003. Available from encelade.net.

Georg Friederich Händel: “Toccata I in G Major,” “Toccata VI in C Major,” “Toccata IX in G Minor,” and “Toccata XI in D Minor” from the Bergamo Manuscript; Sonata in G Minor, HWV 580; Suite II in F Major, HWV 427; Chaconne in G Major, HWV 435; transcription of Violin Sonata No. 10 in A Major, HWV 372. Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in F Major, K. 82; Sonata in F Minor, K. 69; Sonata in D Minor, K. 32; Sonata in D Minor, K. 64; Sonata in G Minor, K. 43; Sonata in D Major, K. 33; Sonata in D Major, K. 53; Sonata in C Major, K. 86; Sonata in C Minor, K. 84; Sonata in C Minor, K.58.

Competition very often follows musicians throughout their lives, sometimes in healthy ways and sometimes not, and competitive events often yield memorable outcomes. The Saxon Georg Friederich Händel and the Italian Domenico Scarlatti first met in 1708, and at the instigation of the patron of the arts Cardinal Pietro Ottoboni in Rome, the two engaged in a musical duel for an audience drawn from the nobility. Rather than speak critically of each other as Mozart did of Clementi, flee town in fear as Louis Marchand did with Johann Sebastian Bach, or storm out of the city as Daniel Steibelt did after losing to Ludwig van Beethoven, Händel and Scarlatti became friends and admirers of each other’s skill. Händel was declared the superior organist, while Scarlatti was deemed the superior harpsichordist.

Händel (who later Anglicized his name to George Frideric Handel) settled in England and composed in as many genres as he encountered on his travels, while Scarlatti settled in Iberia, eventually marrying into the Spanish royalty and composing over 550 keyboard sonatas, among other works. Although the musical program of this duel has been lost to history, harpsichordist Cristiano Gaudio captures the spirit of two twenty-four-year-old virtuosos vying for the public eye in an impressive and brilliantly played album entitled Händel vs. Scarlatti.

As we know from their careers, Händel and Scarlatti could not be more different as people and composers, but this album pits them together on the level playing field of the harpsichord. Both were lauded for their virtuosity, and both were highly skilled in the art of improvisation at the keyboard, and Gaudio’s album highlights both traits. His program selections stem from Händel’s younger years and most likely Scarlatti’s as well (as best as the Kirkpatrick numbers may yield). The variety of styles places the listener in the front row of the audience, hearing the two young composers show off their skill and challenge each other to more and more daring feats at the keyboard.

Händel starts the first round with a stirring toccata preserved in the newly discovered “Bergamo” manuscript. Händel’s toccatas in this album showcase his brilliant improvisations as an organist, and as this opening selection resembles the more sectional, improvisatory sonata movements of Corelli, perhaps the German Händel is showing his skill at a more Italian vein to impress his hosts. However, Scarlatti takes the Saxon to task and plays a fugue at a presto tempo, showing his mastery of a more German learned style! (Gaudio’s super-charged performance is especially breathtaking.) He then demonstrates a more sensitive, suave approach to the harpsichord that would highlight his slower sonatas to come. In Gaudio’s hands, this Bruce Kennedy Italian harpsichord sings sensuously, and Scarlatti’s Spanish flair enticingly emerges.

Back and forth the composers square off, with Gaudio refereeing the musical melee. Händel takes a turn at fugal style while Scarlatti pares back his fingerwork for a gentler approach. (Gaudio’s tasteful embellishments in the latter seem to emanate from within the sound of the instrument.) Händel produces multi-sectional toccatas, to which Scarlatti replies with paired sonatas. Händel then attempts a languid and suave sound through an organ sonata movement, but Scarlatti disrupts this aria with an allegrissimo in the same key. At this point the composers play off of each other, as Händel continues in G minor with another toccata, this time joined to a capriccio. Perhaps these mutual segues hint at the respect the two men gained for each other upon meeting each other in “battle.”

As the contest progresses, the virtuosi move more into their own worlds—Scarlatti into Spanish dance and keyboard pyrotechnics, and Händel into orchestral writing. K. 33 signals a Spanish jota, a vigorous dance in 3/8, but Scarlatti also takes time to improvise between phrases. Gaudio’s timing of these moments keeps the listener on edge as the movement seemingly halts, then precipitates into the dance once again. Although Scarlatti’s Spanish flavor would come later, its presence in this album makes his music contrast most spiritedly from Händel’s. K. 53 also signals guitar-like writing and more visually the hand-crossings that would make Scarlatti’s sonatas legendary across all keyboard instruments. Gaudio’s fiery virtuosity is so very enjoyable that one almost forgets the demands of this music!

Not to be outdone, Händel enters the fray again, this time with a gem from his first volume of suites. He steps away from the organ and becomes an orchestrator, perhaps attempting to outdo Scarlatti through his own use of the harpsichord’s sonority and register, which differs in each movement. Gaudio equally demonstrates the ability of the harpsichord to imitate orchestral voices in a concertante setting, both solo and grosso. The opening aria’s florid melodic line rivals that of the most beautiful aria-like sonatas that Scarlatti could write, and Gaudio captivates the listener from the very first note. Vigorous violin-like writing characterizes the second movement, which is similar in key and brilliance to the opening soprano aria of Partenope, an opera Händel would write in London some twenty years later. The shock of the third movement’s key paves the way for individual lines in a concerto grosso-like texture to permeate the aura created by this new solemn affect. Gaudio shapes each line elegantly and leaves the listener wondering what could happen next. The final ebullient fugue is a tour de force and features both Händel’s training in counterpoint and zest for flair at their best. Gaudio’s energy is relentlessly exciting, though one may wish at times for more articulated shape in each fugal line, not just pell-mell energy.

For the final stretch of performances, both composers offer their most personal craft. Scarlatti’s three sonatas treat the listener to memorable elegance, more fireworks, and one last demonstration of the learned style. Gaudio highlights the whimsical air of K. 86 with expressive elegance, shows off the brilliance of K. 84 with great freedom and edge, and holds together K. 58’s structure amid gnarly chromaticism. His freedom in timing sometimes detracts from the pieces’ architecture, but the elegance in K. 86 ensures that the listener is never lost in the weeds but is always at home in the flowers. Even though the sense of meter in K. 84 disappears in pauses and drastic tempo shifts, the listener is allowed a glimpse at the overtly brilliant keyboard writing that characterizes Scarlatti’s most difficult sonatas. In this sonata, Scarlatti snarls at his foe! He then continues one-upping Händel in a virtuosic, chromatic fugue, demonstrating both a command of the keyboard and the epitome of learned-style counterpoint, with a subject based entirely on the chromatic scale. Gaudio’s performance of K. 58 breathes more here than in Händel’s imitative writing, but one still might wish the fugue subject were crafted with a greater sensitivity to meter. However, even with occasionally blurred chromatic lines, the overall structure of the fugue is most convincing.

Händel’s wild last toccata and the great “Chaconne” cement his improvisatory prowess in the audience’s memory. Gaudio gives an elaborate and gripping performance of this incredible latter work, and his addictive energy holds the audience’s attention to the very end. His brilliant fingerwork at times relies more on speed and clarity than shape in the many running lines, but the rhythmic energy of the whole movement compels the listener’s attention and applause. Gaudio ends the album with a lovely encore in the form of a transcription from a violin sonata. One can imagine the two composers reading this movement together on separate instruments (or perhaps the same one!) before going their separate ways with newfound reverence at each other’s mastery.

So who carries the day? You be the judge, but Gaudio clearly gives a winning performance as the referee. The two instruments by Bruce Kennedy offer timbral variety, and one can imagine both composers taking turns at each instrument and even the same instrument. This brilliant album leaves the listener inspired, breathlessly excited, and eager for more, and Mr. Gaudio delivers the styles of the two giants with ease, taste, and exuberance.