Composer: Johann Sebastian Bach
Works: Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II BWV 870-893
Performers: Gary Cooper, harpsichord
Recording: Rec: March 2001, St Michael’s Church, Great Tew, England
Label: ASV CD GAX 254
The “Well-Tempered Clavier,” a cornerstone of the keyboard repertoire, represents Johann Sebastian Bach’s profound exploration of harmony and counterpoint, encapsulating the essence of the Baroque musical idiom. Written in 1722 and 1742, the two volumes of this work serve not only as pedagogical tools but also as a testament to Bach’s mastery over the keyboard, showcasing a vast array of emotions within a theoretically rigorous framework. Gary Cooper’s interpretation of Book II presents a distinctive perspective, one that invites both admiration and scrutiny.
Cooper’s choice of a harpsichord modeled after Christian Zell contributes significantly to the recording’s character. The instrument’s dark, luscious timbre stands in stark contrast to the often piercing brightness of more traditionally used harpsichords, establishing an intimate atmosphere that pervades the performance. From the outset, however, Cooper’s approach raises eyebrows: his unusually slow tempos, especially in the preludes, diverge sharply from the established interpretive tradition. For instance, the E major prelude (BWV 878) stretches over six minutes, a stark deviation that fundamentally alters its recognizable rhythmic pulse. While such choices may cultivate a meditative quality, they often obscure the inherent drive of the music, leaving listeners grappling with a sense of dislocation.
In terms of interpretive decisions, Cooper’s slower tempos allow for a greater emphasis on the nuances of Bach’s counterpoint. The E minor fugue (BWV 879) exemplifies this, where the deliberate pacing reveals subtleties in the voice leading that are frequently overlooked in more brisk interpretations. Yet, this depth comes at a cost; the G minor fugue (BWV 861), typically vibrant and full of rhythmic vigor, risks becoming lethargic under Cooper’s hand, diminishing the buoyancy that characterizes its spirit. This paradox highlights an essential tension in Cooper’s performance: while some sections benefit from a more contemplative approach, others suffer from an excess of deliberation, resulting in a less engaging experience.
Technical execution remains commendable throughout. Cooper navigates the intricate passages with a deft touch, showcasing his proficiency in articulating the complex inner voices that define Bach’s fugues. The recording quality, engineered in the resonant space of St. Michael’s Church, further enhances the clarity of texture, allowing the listener to appreciate the rich interplay of voices. Nonetheless, the sound may also accentuate the limitations of Cooper’s chosen tempos; certain harmonic shifts lose their impact, and moments of tension feel under-expressed.
Comparatively, recordings by interpreters such as Gustav Leonhardt and Blandine Verlet present the “Well-Tempered Clavier” with a more conventional adherence to tempo, resulting in a heightened sense of momentum and drama. These performances serve as benchmarks against which Cooper’s interpretation can be measured, revealing the potential pitfalls of his unorthodox approach. While his interpretations may resonate with those seeking a fresh take, they may alienate purists accustomed to the traditional phrasing and pacing that have long defined Bach’s works.
This recording stands as a provocative exploration of Bach’s genius, inviting listeners to engage with the music from a different vantage point. Cooper’s interpretation will likely appeal to those with a profound familiarity with the “Well-Tempered Clavier,” as it challenges one to rethink established norms. The performance is neither unequivocally successful nor entirely flawed; it exists in a nuanced space that requires careful listening and contemplation to appreciate its unique offerings.
