Saturday, July 28, 2007

Brugge 2: the first concert

One of the first things I noticed when coming to Beligum is how much more light there is in the Sun. The Sun doesn't set until 9:30pm, and it isn't dark until 10:30pm. Perhaps that accounts for the late evening concerts that start here at 10:30pm--well past my normal bedtime. My first concert was one of these and I fear I must have been a big embarrassment as I kept nodding off. It was a struggle to stay awake until midnight, not because of the music.

This first concert was held in the Chapel of Our Lady of the Blind, a small church that was down an alley; it would be easily missed by the casual tourist. And what a pity that would be! Very ornate inside with a large model sailing ship hanging from the ceiling, as if flying to heaven. This first concert was by a couple of relatively lesser known performers, at least in the U.S.: Ludger Rémy and Ketil Haugsand. Actually, I was familar with Rémy, who has a Froberger recording I have always liked. Both are judges at the competitions, and they had no less than Gustav Leonhardt and Françoise Lengellé sitting in the front row: now that would be a daunting audience!

I had thought that perhaps this would be a lightly attended concert. Instead, people showed up early and the church was packed. I couldn't count, but it must have been several hundred, and it was an extremely appreciative audience. I now know to show up early for all the concerts!

The church had excellent acoustics. The concert, mostly music for two harpsichords, was performed on two instruments by Martin Skowroneck, a "German" after Mietke and Zell and a "Flemish" after Dulcken. These instruments aren't exact copies, Skowroneck doesn't build exact copies, but instruments that true to the spirit of the period. The lid painting on the Flemish was a bold, modernistic abstract design in reds and oranges. The concert was dedicated to Skowroneck, who is turning 80. Ketil Haugsand gave a very amusing preamble in which he recounted how he first fell in love with the harpsichord after hearing a concert by Leonhardt, then bemoaning how long it took to actually get an instrument.

The concert started off with a suite by Gaspard le Roux. The opening unmeasured prelude sounded like it was perhaps a creation of the performer: a solo unmeasured prelude played first by one, then by the other, then in combination. It was magical: music, sound and performance. Following this Ketil Haugsand played three pieces by Balbastre with great enthusiasm. It was an enjoyable performance, but his La Lugeac was perhaps a little too enthusiastic. The audience throughout showed the maximum enthusiasm.

They then followed with five Pièces à deux Clavecins by Francois Couperin. Marvelous music, played beautifully, although it seemed like they struggled a little synchronizing on the opening Allemande. Come to think of it, a recording I have of this same duet sounds the same way, so perhaps that is simply the music. Artistically, the two performers were in perfect synchronization, and the two instruments blended very well. As I said, the acoustics were ideal.

Perhaps the most powerful performance of the evening was Ludger Rémy playing C.P.E. Bach's Sonata per il Cembalo solo in g minor. Written a year before Sebastian Bach's death, this has always struck me as a revolutionary piece. The live performance projected a power and spontaneity I haven't heard before. Played on the "German" harpsichord, I was completely convinced that this was a work for harpsichord.

The performance ended with a delightful Concerto a due Cembali Concertati by W.F. Bach. This was a new piece to me, completely delightful, and a wonderful ending to the concert. The audience gave the performers quite an ovation, hoping for more. I was dead with exhaustion and must admit I was glad that the performers declined. Five more minutes I would have truly been dead!

What a week this is going to be! I'm off to the Belfry again, then a mid-day fortepiano concert by Linda Nicholson