Bach: Harpsichord Works
Richard Egarr, harpsichord
EMI CDZ 569700 2. Recorded 1995, Church of Maria Minor, Utrecht. CD, 77:37
Richard Egarr plays a gorgeous instrument here—a Joel Katzman copy after Ruckers that sings with crystalline clarity, its overtones shimmering in the generous acoustic of Utrecht’s Church of Maria Minor. The sound alone makes this disc worth hearing. But what of the playing?
The program itself shows intelligence: Egarr frames three substantial works (the B-flat Partita, the Fifth French Suite, the Italian Concerto) with pedagogical miniatures from the Clavierbüchlein compiled for Wilhelm Friedemann Bach, plus those six little preludes that came down through Johann Peter Kellner’s collection. It’s a clever architecture—the great works emerge from and return to Bach’s teaching studio, reminding us that even the partitas grew from didactic impulses. These tiny preludes and minuets aren’t mere couplings. They’re concentrated essence.
Egarr’s touch in the “Allemande” of the French Suite is nuanced, almost tentative—he seems to want the music to breathe in long phrases, and the Katzman instrument responds beautifully. That crystalline treble register, the way the lower manual growls softly beneath—this is period-instrument playing that actually sounds persuasive rather than merely correct. In the “Sarabande” of the Partita his preciosity becomes a virtue; the ornamentation unfolds with real elegance, nothing rushed or merely decorative.
But then there are problems. The tempi in the Partita feel oddly uniform, as though Egarr has found one comfortable tempo and can’t quite escape its gravitational pull. Those two minuets drag; what should dance instead broods. One wants more variety, more willingness to take risks with character. The slow movement of the Italian Concerto works beautifully—here his discursive style, that quality of seeming to think aloud at the keyboard, suits Bach’s rhetorical manner perfectly. But the concluding "Presto" sounds effortful. The rhythm drives him rather than the reverse.
This was recorded in 1995, remember—nearly three decades ago now. (How time accelerates.) One hears a young player still finding his way, sometimes brilliant, sometimes constrained by his own good taste. The instrument flattered him, perhaps too much. When everything sounds exquisite, where’s the incentive to push against the music’s boundaries?
The reissue gives us a valuable document of Egarr’s early work, and there’s enough here—particularly in those smaller pieces, which he plays with genuine affection—to recommend it. But this is apprentice work from a performer who has since matured considerably. If you want to hear where he came from, fine. If you want definitive Bach, keep looking.
Kirk McElhearn’s original review gets the essentials right, though he’s perhaps more generous than I’d be about the Partita. The disc remains worth hearing for the instrument and the intelligent programming. Just don’t expect revelations.
