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New York Times American Record Guide I love this recording. It is one of the best Bach recordings I have heard in years. Also, Brookshire plays on a fantastic copy of harpsichord by Christian Vater from 1738. The notes do not clearly indicate who built the copy of the Vater instrument, leaving me wondering if Brookshire built it himself. The recording is also available with a digital copy of the score that can be displayed in sync with the recording––a nice feature for taking in a work like this. Pieter Dirksen records the 1742 version of The Art of Fugue, which he reconstructs himself, as well as four fugues and a canon that did not appear until the
1747 version. For anyone who might be turned off by Brookshire’s hyper-expressive playing, Dirksen’s offering is a nice alternative. He plays in a beautiful and somewhat reserved style that many associate with the learned nature of the work. His performance is elegant and understated. He also plays a beautiful instrument, a Sebastian Nunez copy of a 1638 Johannes Ruckers. While I think the instrument is gorgeous, I have to say that I tire of hearing Bach played on copies of 17th-century Flemish instruments. I say this not because I find fault with the 17th-century Flemish instrument, but because 18th-century German builders had so much to offer that happens to also be perfectly suited to the performance of Bach––as is abundantly clear in Brookshire’s recording." Goldberg Magazine Audiophile Audition Webmagazine Music-Web International What struck me first when listening to this set is the sound. I wondered if my stereo had been set to mono by accident; the aural image is very cramped, with a narrow sound-space and hardly any reverberation. I was indeed listening in stereo, but this is a strange stereo; one that constricts, that gives little feeling of amplitude or openness. Once I got beyond the aural dimension I discovered a unique performance of this wonderful work. Brookshire gets the widest possible range of sounds from his instrument: a harpsichord after Christian Vater, 1738, tuned in 1/6-comma meantone with A=415. Take, for example, Contrapunctus V, where Brookshire plays the melody in a very high register, providing an otherworldly sound that almost recalls an organ. Or listen to Contrapunctus VIII, where the rich bass tones of the instrument come to the forefront, giving this fugue a great sense of power and richness. Together with that variety of sounds one is struck by Brookshire’s extreme use of rubato, or, as he defines it in the notes, “variety of articulation and registration, or the non-simultaneous performance of note values that are vertically aligned in the score, or a host of other liberties”. Brookshire decries the proscription of this tempo rubato, and says its non-use is “totally lacking in any Baroque pedigree”. And rubato he does. Brookshire’s approach is personal and unique, taking the music for what it is and moulding it to fit his ideas of interpretation. His changes of tempo, his wide range of ornamentation, and his occasional added flourishes, approach this music as though it were a series of unmeasured preludes in the French style. To the listener familiar with the Art of Fugue, this disc is full of surprises. This is no stolid recording à la Gustav Leonhardt, or neo-romantic version such as the partial recording by Glenn Gould, but one where it seems that the performer took a great deal of care in developing an overall approach that involves tiny decisions in each fugue and canon. While there is a looseness in the performance due to the rubato, it all hangs together with an overall coherence. One thing should be said about the ordering of the work, which has led to much speculation and many theories over the years. Brookshire seems less obsessed by this than some other performers, calling this line of inquiry “pointless”. He proposes his own order, adding the “final” unfinished fugue as an “appendix” at the end of the recording. Whatever musicologists may think about the position of this fugue, I agree with Brookshire that its place, with its “fade to black” is at the end of any performance. It makes no sense to put it at any other location, having that ending point should be followed by a new beginning. Note that this recording comes with a second disc, which contains an interactive score for the work. Users on Macs or Windows PCs can view the score page by page while listening to the work. While this may be interesting for some, it would be a lot more so if the score would show what it plays; if, for example, notes turned bold as they were played. But for most keyboard players, it’s enough to have the score. They don’t need to listen along and have the pages “turn” for them; they can follow themselves.
" Goldberg Magazine Brookshire’s performance resembles no other harpsichord rendition in its range of colours and articulation, and in its varied approach to tempo – ranging from near-metronomic rigidity (especially in the mirror fugues) to generous rubato (notable right from Contrapunctus 1). This reflects Brookshire’s view that “the variety of styles and genres that Bach has pulled out of a small amount of thematic material” is the “most essential feature” of The Art of Fugue. Brookshire also goes further than any other harpsichordist in deliberately de-synchronising supposedly simultaneous notes in order to “create the sense that each individual line in the contrapuntal texture was being performed by a separate individual in musical conversation with other individuals”; in other words, he attempts to simulate an ensemble on a single keyboard. The resulting performance can give rise to strong contradictory reactions; even a single listener might find it mannered and contrived at one moment – and moving and revelatory at the next. In this sense, Brookshire is surprisingly similar to Hermann Scherchen, whose 1964 orchestral version alternates stark, unyielding severity in some movements with high drama in others." The New York Sun American Record Guide Review Of course, Brookshire has plenty of virtuosic moments, too – for instance, the lightning-quick Courante from the E-major Suite. His articulation is also varied and sometimes produces unexpected effects: the Allemande from the C-minor Suite, for instance, sounds more playful and unsettled than usual. Although I sometimes don’t understand what musical point he’s trying to make with his articulation choices, I find it refreshing that he makes unexpected choices at all. His ornaments and other added improvised passages are tasteful and utterly convincing. The opulent Sarabande from the G-major, for example, sounds like heaven: the first time through, Brookshire plays a simplified version, but one with fuller chords; second time through, Bach’s version with a few more well-chosen ornaments. One cavil: he doesn’t take all the repeats. That’s too bad: with performances this striking, I could stand to listen to them all a second time. The simple, tender Allemande from the G-major is a case in point. No information on the instrument or the tuning, but the harpsichord sounds like one of Flemish design and the tuning sounds like an agreeable unequal temperament. With playing this interesting, I think I would have preferred a more bizarre temperament. By far, Brookshire’s release of the French Suites is the best on the market I’ve heard – ever. " Stereophile Magazine Musicweb International Even though I don’t know all recordings available I dare to say it does. This is a very imaginative, bold, even provocative interpretation. It is always interesting, never boring, never predictable. That doesn't mean I agree with every aspect of it, but this recording makes you listen again, and very carefully to music you thought you knew. That is a big compliment in itself. Bradley Brookshire isn't afraid of adding a lot of ornamentation. It is often said that Bach has written so many ornaments himself that there is not much room for adding even more. And one shouldn't overdo it. Whether that has happened here is debatable. A good example is the sarabande of the 5th suite, which is abundantly ornamented. As a result this is one of the most dramatic movements of the whole set. I also greatly enjoyed the ornamentation - and the differentiation in it - in the menuet II of Suite 1. Something which is set to upset people is the use of rubato. Although it is used by other interpreters, like Gustav Leonhardt, Brookshire goes much further in its application than any other I have heard. The sarabande of the second suite is an impressive example of the dramatic effect the use of rubato has. Brookshire is well aware of the rhetorical character of Bach's keyboard music as he shows for instance in the allemande of the third suite... I would strongly recommend this disc: it makes you listen to these suites as if you never heard them. And that is the best thing that can be said about a performance." The New Mexican, Santa Fe Brookshire's Saturday recital focused on Bach and his Italian contemporaries Giralomo Frescobaldi, Domenico Scarlatti, Benedetto Marcello and Antonio Vivaldi. By playing works first by the trans-Alpine composers and then by Bach, Brookshire gave an object lesson in how artistic influences transcend geographic, political and linguistic. He played his own harpsichord, a modern instrument constructed after a Baroque model by the instrument builder Christian Vater. It had a clear, penetrating sound and more than enough volume for the hall. As icing on the cake, it was lovely to look at — a reminder of a period when hand-crafted beauty was a natural component of music-making. ...The four opening dance-movement correntes, one by Frescobaldi and three by Bach, showed off his rippling finger work and mastery of two-part writing — the most difficult of styles to bring off, since it weaves a harmonic web through the interaction of independent voices rather than melody coupled with harmony. Two pieces by Scarlatti and Bach were delightful examples of how the Italian-Spanish master influenced the German. Brookshire omitted the announced Marcello concerto, jumping straight from Vivaldi's D Major concerto transcribed by Bach, to Bach's monumental Concerto in the Italian Style. Both performances were impressive and soaring, but the encore was even better: Bach's almost labyrinthine-complex Chromatic Fantasy, which Brookshire played with power, confidence and sonic richness." The New York Times The excellent harpsichordist Bradley Brookshire offered insight into that speculation with the latest installment in his challenging and important series of recitals devoted to the complete harpsichord works of Bach, which he began in 1997. Sunday night's recital, the fourth of eight programs, was devoted to fantasias, preludes and fugues. The fantasias, which Bach often paired with fugues, are probably pretty close to being written-out improvisations. And among the splendid qualities Mr. Brookshire brought to his performances was a rhapsodic flair that enhanced the improvisatory nature of these works. Bach took two approaches to the fantasia form, as Mr. Brookshire explained in his program notes. There was the free fantasia, like the one that begins the famous Chromatic Fantasy and fugue in D Minor, the work with which Mr. Brookshire opened his recital. Here the bold main theme, essentially an outburst of rushing chromatic scales that dart up and down the keyboard, instigated a restless, volatile fantasy that alternates flourishes of virtuosic passage work with lyrical musings. The other approach was the contrapuntal fantasia, in which long, complex passages of counterpoint evolve with a miraculous blend of compositional rigor and improvisatory freedom. On this program, the Fantasy and Fugue in A Minor (BWV 904) was an excellent example. Mr. Brookshire, who played a harpsichord built by Philip Tyre in 1991, a copy of a 1738 single-manual instrument by Christian Vater now in the Nuremberg Musical Instrument Museum, maximized the beguiling qualities of the harpsichord - lutelike tenderness in lyrical moments, a whoosh of blurry colors in onrushing passage work - in these fleet, imaginative and probing performances." The New York Times The Journal News [Gannett] Brookshire's manner masks a facile technique which he always seems to use in the service of Bach. He does not get in the way of the music but rather elucidates it through his interpretation. This special event was a memorable opportunity to experience Bach's great work in a unique way." Buffalo News A selection of 17th-century works that relied on repeated chordal motives displayed the imitative character of the instrument to good effect. Brookshire's playing of "The Bells," by William Byrd, developed a highly atmospheric sense of swaying, leading through a series of hypnotic repetitions, with a slightly stuttering effect, gradually slowing till the decaying last note. The "Ciaconna," by Bernardo Storace, was played at breakneck speed by Brookshire, strongly emphasizing, via Latin America, the African origins of this dance, that the Spanish authorities once tried to ban as being subversive. The performance was infectiously lively, with the soloist stalling his very rapid passage work for a blink, before continuing even more rapidly, at a seemingly impossible speed. Brookshire's reflective approach to J.S. Bach's French suite in G Major articulated the music's inner working, clearly differentiating the various dance forms, while making them seem an integral part of a greater whole. The stately "Allemande" had a timeless, suspended quality, while the "Courante" was played with a controlled liveliness. The " Sarabande" was particularly effective, appropriately embellished, with the harpsichordist speaking, more than singing, to the audience. Nine sonatas by the prolific Domenico Scarlatti were grouped to effectively display the amazing range of this composer. The flawlessly played, ultra rapid K 114 was paired with the seamless shifts of the stately K 177. The tempo changes in K 278 seemed exactly right, with the pauses held for the perfect duration, while the whirling scales of K 492 providing the right contrast. Brookshire played the detached sections of K 544 in a questioning, uncertain manner, very well contrasted by his intense rhythmic snap in K 545. According to legend. Scarlatti's cat was the stimulus for K 30, the cat playing an upward figure before jumping off the keyboard. Scarlatti's inspiration was well served by Brookshire, who managed to stay on the keyboard in great style to the very end." The New York Times On the East Side of Manhattan - and on the airwaves, thanks to a live broadcast on WNYC-FM - Sir John Eliot Gardiner, the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists brought their yearlong international Bach Cantata Pilgrimage to a close at St. Bartholomew's Church. Across town, the harpsichordist Bradley Brookshire competed gamely with that high-profile performance by presenting a concert that was more modest in some ways and grander in others. In the comparatively intimate confines of Merkin Concert Hall, Mr. Brookshire gave a warm, rhythmically fluid account of Bach's Art of the Fugue" in a presentation that was meant to engage the eye as well as the ear. In his program notes, Mr. Brookshire contended that listeners could not fully appreciate "The Art of the Fugue" unless they were reading the score while hearing the music. There is something to that. This expansive compendium of contrapuntal techniques is more of a theoretical treatise than an entertainment, and if Bach envisioned an audience, it would not have been a hall full of passive listeners, but musicians, amateur or professional, who might marvel at the music's construction as it was played. Today score reading is regarded as an advanced specialty, but paradoxically it takes greater training to follow these fugue subjects and their permutations by ear than to read them on the page. Mr. Brookshire's solution was to collaborate with James McElwaine, a music professor at Purchase College (where Mr. Brookshire is director of graduate studies) on a computerized version of the score that could be projected behind him during performances. As an aid to less experienced score readers, Mr. Brookshire and Mr. McElwaine engaged Pete Romano, a composition student at Purchase, to render the work's fugue subjects, countersubjects and decorative expansions in different colors. The subjects were in red, second and third subjects were in blue and a difficult-to-read light green, and the expansions were in purple. Satoshi Arai, an instructor at Purchase, saw to the projection and electronic page turning. ...what Mr. Brookshire offered was a stimulating view of this great work. Although it has been heard lately in many guises - string quartet arrangement are currently in vogue - Mr. Brookshire's harpsichord rendering had a certain rightness of spirit and texture." The New York Times The New York Times Mr. Brookshire is a splendidly finished musician, and he fills a real need in the city's musical life. (He) is a harpsichordist of genuine flair, imagination and humor as well as remarkable skill. His playing at Weill, as on previous occasions, was everywhere stimulating and often provocative. The opportunity to share in this intelligent and unfailingly artistic exploration of the nature of the music proved satisfying; indeed, it seemed important." The New York Times New York Magazine The New York Times Not that the young American Bradley Brookshire was a complete unknown. Mr. Brookshire, who teaches at Mannes College and elsewhere, has figured prominently in group efforts onstage and in recordings, but so had others who went on to falter in the solo spotlight. Mr. Brookshire fairly blossomed, playing all six of Bach's French Suites at Weill recital Hall. It was a remarkable tour de force and, better, merely the first installment of a complete survey of Bach's keyboard works over three seasons. Fine technical aplomb like Mr. Brookshire's can by no means be taken for granted among harpsichordists these days. But it seemed the least of his attributes here, backed as it was by wonderful musicality, personality and wit. For the most part, he kept individual voices distinct. And he applied great imagination to the separation of phrases, at the same time characterizing the various dance forms (imparting an occasional galumph to allemandes, for example). Mr. Brookshire's stamina was also remarkable. Proceeding quickly from one work to the next, he seemed to tire only slightly, toward the end of one or two suites. (But why such haste?) He even added a delightful encore, "La Mandoline," by Antoine Forqueray. All of this despite the fact that he observed most of the sectional repeats. Those he skipped were in some of the sarabandes, and it seems ungracious to complain, but it was here that Mr. Brookshire may have stood out most. These movements are often played at a deadly pace and drenched in sentimentality. Mr. Brookshire's bright, voluptuary approach (especially in the First Suite, where he took the repeats and laid on insinuating ornamentation) finally made credible what one has always heard about the lascivious origins of this dance form. Mr. Brookshire played a 1991 copy of a 1728 German instrument with a single keyboard, which looked from a distance to extend six octaves or so. It hardly seemed big enough to hold all the notes, let alone the color Mr. Brookshire coaxed from it." The New York Times The New Yorker Early Music Quarterly, Budapest Magyar Nemzet, Budapest
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