New Clavichord Premiere Recital (James Tibbles) 10/08/2014

Thanks to the generosity of Anna Nathan, the University of Auckland has a brand new clavichord and thanks to the enthusiasm of the University's James Tibbles the public were able to hear it at Gus Fisher Gallery. A small, box-like instrument, the current model is a copy of a late 18th century instrument built by Friderici. With its rather plain exterior, it made quite a contrast with the various colourful works adorning the Gallery and acoustically was truly flattered by the venue.

What an intriguing sound the little clavichord makes! Unlike the harpsichord, the strings are not plucked but instead struck by small brass "tangents" attached to the end of the keys. This is a similar mechanism to the modern piano though the felt-covered hammers of the modern instrument produce much greater volume. Indeed, it takes some time to get used the volume of the clavichord. Even in such a small space as the Gus Fisher Gallery, the listeners really were made to concentrate in order to be drawn into the instrument's soundworld. The clavichord is also notable for its ability to vary dynamics unlike the harpsichord. The player can also create vibrato effects by shaking the keys up and down. It was amazing to hear the variety of sounds that could emerge from what I'd always assumed was a severely limited instrument.

But what of the music and performances here? We opened with a section devoted to the music of Georg Bohm, a composer who was a great influence on the music of Bach. The Praeludium in G started off with some rather staid block chords that sounded if perhaps they'd be more at home on the organ. However, there was more to this work than there appeared at first glance and it soon segued into some fairly substantial counterpoint which the clavichord handled with wonderful clarity. Bohm also wrote suites of dances for keyboard and here we were presented with his Suite in F sounding all the world like proto-Bach. Tibbles's playing in these pieces was elegance itself.

A real change of mood took place between the Baroque formalities of Bohm and the ensuing Capriccio sopra la lontananza del suo fratello diletissimo by Bach. A rare programmatic piece for Bach, the solemn first movements farewelling a departing brother lead into a cheery little aria imitating a posthorn and then a fugue in imitation of this. The most gorgeous moments of the whole afternoon were in the slow third movement, its restrained sorrow suiting the clavichord's sound perfectly. Tibbles finished the first half with a C.P.E. Bach Fantasia, a piece wild in both form and harmony. Sudden pauses and strange dissonances abounded throughout this jolly number. It utilised the full range of the clavichord, from surprisingly boomy low notes to a very ghostly light upper register.

Father Bach re-appeared at the opening of the second half in the form of his Toccata, BWV 913.
The soft, slow section in the middle sounded truly improvisatory in the hands of Tibbles. The last fugue section was thrillingly shaped although there were some split notes and slightly awkward passagework here and there. While Tibbles noted that Turk's sonatas should stand in the company of Mozart, Haydn, or C.P.E. Bach's works in the same genre, for this listener the Sonata in Eb featured here sounded significantly less substantial musically than any of the three mentioned. However, it was still a pleasure to hear with its highly decorated melodic line, particularly refreshing for those who only know Turk for his beginner piano pieces. We finished with Haydn, the Sonata in D Hob XVI:19. Haydn was one composer who really bridged the periods of clavichords/harpsichords and the fortepiano. This sonata is a relatively early work that was probably written for clavichord (or perhaps harpsichord). Some of Tibbles's issues with accuracy re-occurred here and in the preceding Turk piece and I felt that perhaps he had a little less sympathy with the early classical style than with the Baroque earlier in the concert.

As noted above, I have some reservations occasionally about the technical finish of Tibbles's playing but it must be said that throughout this recital he was in the main stylistically very much on point. Particularly in the Baroque field he has an understanding that makes for very illuminating listening. Perhaps one could say an hour and a half was as much clavichord sound as you could take in one stretch but it was still an immense privilege to have the rare chance to hear this music played on this instrument.

Werther (Met Live in HD Encore)

Last week found me at the local encore of the Met in HD Werther. For some reason these get to us here in New Zealand weeks after they are shown elsewhere. Werther doesn't always work for me; the title character seems to spend an agonising amount of time moping around (after all, most of us have loved sometime who didn't love us back and most of us get over it). However, in this case I was mostly engrossed, particularly in the second half and probably largely because of the contributions of the principal singers.

Director Richard Eyre moves the setting forward to the time of the opera's composition. There were some pretty touches to the production, but overall it neither particularly enlightened the work but nor actively offended in any way, though one might question why Albert's house has a harpsichord at the turn of the 20th century.  I found it all pretty unrelievedly dark onscreen, though the characters were always well-lit. I guess this added to the sombre nature of the proceedings but a little more light contrast couldn't have hurt. The sound in the Rialto Cinemas Newmarket was sometimes aggressively loud, particularly noticeable on Kaufmann's high notes.

Jonas Kaufmann's rich, rather baritonal sound works well in this brooding role. He certainly didn't stint when it comes to the money notes and he appeared able to ride Massenet's orchestration with ease. His rendition of the famous "Pourquoi me reveiller" was heart-stirringly powerful, the difficult high A-flats ringing out with obvious ease. Kaufmann is a master of mezza voce too; this showed throughout the last act as Werther's strength petered out. Additionally, the elegance that can come from such a powerful, dark-timbred voice is quite marvellous. Kaufmann acted his heart out (Richard Eyre's conviction that he is as great as any of the stage actors he's worked with seemed borne out here); great attention is paid to the text and his performance was notable for his interaction with, and indeed reactions to, the other characters. For once the death scene didn't seem too long at all.

At first, Sophie Koch seemed to be a rather cold and distant Charlotte, but I began to see the point from the third act. Starting from the Letter Scene, it was as though all of the emotions she had kept in check were being released little by little. The solo "Les larmes qu'on ne pleure pas" was searing in its intensity. The voice can sound a little strained on the top notes - the role of Charlotte seems to verge on soprano territory for much of the second half of the opera. This was compensated by a richness, if not warmth, in the middle of the voice.

Usually I find Sophie to be one of the most annoying of operatic characters but Lisette Oropesa was an utter delight throughout; in fact, she managed to be extremely moving in the part. Her vocalism was well-nigh faultless, sparkling through the light-hearted "Du gai soleil" and summoning great warmth in the exchanges with her sister. David Bizic was a solid and relatively sympathetic Albert.

The comprimarios were decent, but no matter how good a singer no one can save Schmidt and Johann from being totally insufferable. Jonathan Summers was good, if a bit on the gruff side as Charlotte's father and the younger children playing Charlotte and Sophie's siblings made a pleasant impression in their Christmas carol.

Alain Altinoglu's close familiarity with the score was well-shown; there was an effortless narrative flow to the proceedings that made the musical journey from the beginning through the final tragedy seem inevitable. Even the loudest, most dramatic moments didn't stray from a basic sense of French grace and elegance. All in all, it was a worthwhile experience in the cinema which has helped me enjoy Werther a little more than I probably ever had before.