Miklòs Spànyi has been recording Emanuel's solo keyboard music for well over a decade (I think Volume One came out in 1997) and he is only about two-thirds complete. I am grateful for a number of reasons. Not only has it opened a wealth of excellent music, most of which has not been recorded, it was an introduction to the wonderful clavichords of Joris Potvlieghe. It is an important body of recorded work.
As I have written before, the music of Emanuel Bach may be something of an acquired taste. When one is totally immersed in the language, the nuances take on greater meaning, especially when performed well. But, this is true of most music. Perhaps it is my curse that I'm attracted to the fringes of taste. Spànyi has absorbed the language and style. His approach is intelligent, analytic, and commanding. He does not wallow in sentimentality, nor engage in cheap tricks to dazzle (I am still recovering from Pletnev's exercise in over-indulgence!) As such, his approach may not appeal to all. As one grows accustomed to listening to his performances, however, you expect to hear the attention to detail, the nuance of coloration and the subtlety of embellishment.
It seems that the latest three volumes, 19-21, snuck up on me. I've kept a look-out since Volume 18, but it wasn't until I was visiting Berkeley, with the favorite stop The Musical Offering, that I discovered 19 and 20 were out. A check of the BIS catalog at the site of the North American distributor, Qualiton, that 21 was also out. If I had any sense of seasonal propriety, I would have saved these three new recordings for the Christmas tree. Patience is not my virtue...
Vol. 19, Various Pieces from the 1760s, performed on the tangent piano, seemed the least promising. Included are a couple of variations, a form that I find usually wallows in triviality. However, the theme in each was a good starting point and the result to me is very Haydnesque ... very good Haydn, at that. Another interesting selection is a three movement Sinfonia in F, a transcription of a symphony. Spànyi writes that although this music could also work well on the clavichord, the tangent piano provides greater resources for the orchestral sound. (As an aside, no one writes more compelling notes than Spànyi, a sign of the intelligence put into the performance.) The tangent piano also provides a welcome variety to the more often used clavichord.
Volumes 20 and 21 are recorded on the copy of the 1785 Horn that Spànyi has favored. So far, he has used three clavichords in this series. The first three volumes were recorded on a Saxonian instrument of Joris Potvlieghe's own design: an instrument of great sweetness and color. He then used an instrument after Hubert that I found facil, but colorless. He then switched to the Horn, which is a clavichord with a large and rather un-refined sound (to my ears), but with tremendous dynamics. It is interesting to hear how that particular instrument has mellowed and gained depth as it matures. I have been told that the next clavichord recording will be on another Saxonian instrument of Potvlieghe's design, one that is even larger than the other two of his used. I can't wait!
Volume 20 includes five complete sonatas from the period 1760-1766. This is music for the Emanuel Bach aficionado; I suspect none of it has been recorded previously. None of it pops out as brilliantly unique, but if you speak the language, it is "comfort music."
Volume 21 presents the Six Sonatas with Varied Reprises. These are much more familiar, although I don't think I've seen a recording with all six. This is an important collection, as it gives us detailed insight into how Emanuel would have varied his repeats – as he always would. Spànyi is a master of this art himself, indeed, one of the things I like to listen to in his performances. Emanuel Bach's inventiveness is wondrous, and this set brilliant. It seems that Spànyi plays with special brilliance. For those who don't feel compelled to own the entire collection, Volume 21 stands out as one not to miss.
