Texte paru dans: / Appeared in:
*  
GRAMOPHONE (07/2025)
Pour s'abonner / Subscription information




Alpha  Référence: Alpha 1138

Code barres / Barcode : 3701624511381

Reviewer : Jonathan Freeman Attwood

The first of Céline Frisch’s Bach assignments was a solo debut recording for Harmonia Mundi’s ‘Les Nouveaux Interprètes’ series (9/00). I recall, above all, its rhythmic authority and broadshouldered tonal presence. Since then, Frisch has traversed a good deal of the Bach keyboard ‘map’, but the Partitas always feel a particular rite of passage for any harpsichordist as they measure up to, arguably, the composer’s most acutely chiselled instrumental dance set. Memories from that first album re-emerge in Frisch’s logically argued Partita No 1, a deliberate and even slightly resigned essay that acts more as a commentary than as a fully inhabited exposition. The latter is what marks down Ketil Haugsand’s recording from 1994 as testament to exceptional rhetorical beauty. There, we have a bristling personality that takes Bach on. Here, we have a curious mixture of ‘hits and misses’, within a lively acoustic accentuating the emblazoned presence of the 1738 Christian Vater copy.

The richness and incisiveness of the instrument suits Frisch’s calculated vision of the C minor and D major Partitas especially. In the latter, she finds nobility in the thrilling orchestral textures and flourishes that fly from her brilliant co-ordination of hands. Contrasts within each suite are more open to debate: the Sarabande of Partita No 1 has a startling new registration that takes us too far away, and the Allemande of No 4 – all 11 minutes of it – needs more ebb and flow, and languor, to deserve this intrepid length. Frisch’s primary ambition to communicate the greatness of this compendium of Italian, French and German (and pure Bachian) styles should not be underplayed. Of the hits, Partita No 6 uses the space judiciously, the piece elegantly growing through each movement with poise and purpose. The joyously syncopated Courante is rightly raised on a pedestal, Frisch’s rhythmic control always leaning forwards slightly in anticipation. This is a lovely feature, and in the knotty Sarabande (not unlike the conceits in the Allemande of the Sixth Cello Suite) she accentuates Bach’s gloriously strange music. Where we struggle is in the charm stakes: those movements where gentleness, lift and tenderness should prevail, such as the Minuets of No 1, or in the sequences of the Capriccio of No 2, which cry out for some contrasting lightness. Likewise, I yearned for some devotional warmth and flexibility in the Allemande of No 5. The default is too often to the resolute and earnest – despite impressive and often dazzlingly virtuosic movements (NB the Gigues – apart from No 6, which is a dour affair). Here, I returned to Martin Helmchen’s sophisticated and witty tangent-piano readings (also on Alpha) and to Haugsand’s beautifully recorded and deeply engaging accounts – from 30 years ago, but as fresh as ever.

Cliquez l'un ou l'autre bouton pour découvrir bien d'autres critiques de CD
 Click either button for many other reviews