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FESTIVAL REVIEW

Bach Fest Revels in Period Instruments

July 23, 2001

By Jonathan Dimmock

A festival that offers music throughout the day, together with the ambiance of sea air and the ancient Carmel mission and a healthy mix of artists wandering all over town, is a luxury that few places can, or do, match. As is typical, the Carmel Bach Festival last Monday included two Bach recitals and an evening concert, but this time on period instruments.

The day began with English organist Andrew Arthur in a well-played organ recital of Bach on the modest but stylistically accurate organ by California builder Greg Harrold. The decision to move the recital from the Mission Basilica to the Church in the Forest at Stevenson School in Pebble Beach was fortuitous, because its organ is much more sympathetic to Bach's music, much closer to the sounds that Bach himself would have known.

Arthur planned his program in the same sort of order as concerts we know the composer performed, namely, beginning and ending with a large praeludium and inserting chorale preludes and variations between the two. The bookends to the concert demonstrated Arthur's good understanding of style, articulation, and maturity. Into the opening Prelude and Fugue in C (BWV 545), between those pieces, he cleverly inserted the slow movement of the Fifth Trio Sonata. This creation of a three-movement work, though rarely done, is an example of the way Bach used to play his music. It served as an extremely effective and interesting opener and has a stamp of individuality.

Expert Handling of Unwieldy Instrument

The chorale partita (a set of variations on the tune "O Gott, du frommer Gott") that followed showed Arthur's sensitivity to phrasing. While this music by the young Bach is far from profound, Arthur showed off the colors of the organ and demonstrated his ability to handle the instrument's unsteady wind pressure, a common feature of 18th century organs that many modern players find awkward.

Not all of the chorale preludes that followed were of merit, not until the great B Minor Prelude and Fugue (BWV 544), which closed the concert, was reached. Two were far from adventurous or interesting, another was clunky and lacked smoothness. Outstanding was the one commonly referred to as the fugue on the Magnificat, Chorale Prelude "Meine Seele, erhebt den Herren" (BWV 733).

The organ in the balcony was behind us as we gazed forward, through the glass front of the Church in the Forest, into a spectacular stand of pine trees shrouded in fog. Though we know no more about Bach's interest in nature than that of any other composer of the Baroque (nature and music wouldn't be married until Beethoven), there was something quite fitting and appropriate about the delicacy and intricacy of the trees matching those of Bach's organ music.

The Brilliance of the Goldberg Variations

Two and a half hours later, in the comfortable Golden Bough Theater, John Butt performed the magnificent Goldberg Variations to a full house. Before its composition, no piece had made such technical demands, and it wasn't until Beethoven's Diabelli Variations that Western music continued to push the envelope of virtuosic prowess. With this piece — written for an insomniac count whose court musician, Goldberg by name, would serenade him during his sleepless nights — Bach went to great lengths to prove his brilliance as a composer. Every third variation is a tightly composed canon, first at the unison, then at the second, the third, etc., all the way up to a canon at the ninth.

The extremely fast variations were handled with aplomb by the masterful Butt, one of the world's leading scholars on Bach. There was no technical feat beyond his capacity to execute. In fact, the whirlwind speed with which he played many of the movements — faster than we normally hear on harpsichord or piano — simply would not have worked on a piano, for clarity would have been entirely lost.

In the slow movements especially, Butt's ornamentation and sensitivity to phrasing and articulation were beautiful and soulful. His treatment of many of the cadences, usually executed without any rubato or ritard, brought out some humor in the work, whether or not Bach himself intended it. There were moments, however, when cadences actually seemed to be falling forward, giving a feeling of unsettled execution. At these times of rhythmic instability, it was as if the performer's mind was already in the next section.

Butt has performed the Goldberg Variations, also known as Klavierübung IV, several times in the Bay Area, including at Carmel. There is no question that he feels some ownership of the piece, that he understands it thoroughly, that he believes it permissible to take some leeway with the music, and that he feels a soul connection with the work. Even so, his playing had just enough sloppiness to make me think this performance was not his best.

17th Century Sacred Chamber Music

Still later in the evening, in the Carmel Mission Basilica, soprano Rosa Lamoreaux was joined by a consort of three viols and organ in a perfect evening of sacred chamber music if 17th century England, Italy, and Germany. Standing in the center of the ensemble, the singer took full advantage of the rather extraordinary acoustics. The asymmetrical barrel vaulting focused her not-large voice and amplified it down the length of the nave, making it seem big and round.

Everything about the ambiance contributed to the feeling of intimacy in the concert, from the candles, to the closeness with which the players sat, to the singer's dress that complemented the painted and carved reredos, to the excellent choice of repertoire. The first half of the program was English: Byrd, Purcell, Gibbons, and Dowland, just the sort of music I delight to hear with a viol da gamba consort.

Gambists Tina Chancey, John Dornenburg, and Julie Jeffrey were exceptional, in their technique and intonation, their sensitivity to the singer, and their phrasing — especially their tapering of the ends of phrases — exemplary. In short, the joy with which they accompanied the singer and played on their own was contagious.

What came across, again and again, was the beauty of the music, both in compositional content and in timbre. Given the music's demands for vocal agility, clear diction, and extreme range of singing, we were fortunate to have the warm-toned Lamoreaux escorting us through this garden of delights. She was tireless, soothing, and vivacious, all at the same time. Especially remarkable was her execution of virtuosic runs in Monteverdi's Exulta Filia, which closed the concert.

Some Surprises, Some Delights

Also in the second half, Buxtehude's Quemadmodum desiderat cervus was the surprise of the evening. With a chaconne bass and two upper string parts, the soprano and the strings make music alternately in an interplay that could only be described as Italian. While Schütz's Singet dem Herrn was less interesting, a sonata by Theodor Schwartzkopf for two viol players (plus the occasional addition of organ continuo) was a delight, exquisitely played. Throughout the concert, John Butt's continuo playing supported without ever being in the way — no small feat for the particular instrument he was given to use.

Carmel Bach has often been cited for not making use of period instruments, yet here was an entire day of concerts on period instruments only. Its success was proof of the health of an ever-evolving festival.

(Jonathan Dimmock is a freelance organist, accompanist, director, and teacher. He is working with the United Nations Association in creating a Foundation for Peace Through the Arts. Web: www.jonathandimmock.com)

©2001 Jonathan Dimmock, all rights reserved