The keyboard works of François Couperin – the most famous of the 18th-century clavecinistes – have never enjoyed quite the same popular revival as those of Scarlatti and Bach. No doubt Couperin’s comparative neglect is due partly to the fact that his intricate ornamental lines transfer awkwardly to the piano; but it is also true that the surface naivety and understated virtuosity of many of his pieces belie their musical substance.
Couperin's First Book of harpsichord pieces is a sort of musical house cleaning, representing the publication of a large number of pre-existing works that had already achieved a measure of popularity in manuscript copies. Couperin followed up his success with three more books published at intervals until the very end of his life. Collectively, these 27 suites of pieces (which the composer called "ordres") represent the pinnacle of French keyboard music, and they had a huge influence on subsequent composers, right down to Debussy and Ravel in our century. Christophe Rousset's series is a landmark in Baroque keyboard performance, and a splendid tribute to one of the epoch's greatest masters.
In his Second Book of harpsichord pieces, Couperin moves away from the suite form based on a collection of dance movements, to a new conception consisting of a collection of miniatures with fanciful nicknames, some of which are clear, and some of which remain a mystery to this day. Couperin loved the harpsichord–he wrote one of the definitive instructional manuals for the instrument–and this set also includes the eight Preludes that he included in his L'Art de toucher le clavecin. At the time these discs were first issued, it was clear that Christophe Rousset's survey of Couperin's complete keyboard works was setting new standards in this music. His playing is simply magnificent.
François Couperin was the greatest keyboard composer of the French Baroque, and his achievement, in both quality and quantity, is comparable only to Scarlatti's and Bach's. His fourth (and last) book of harpsichord music was published in 1730, a few years before the composer's death, and it represents a summing up of his career as a composer for his favorite instrument. These eight suites (or "ordres") contain fewer works than in the earlier books, but each one is a gem. Christophe Rousset's performances are simply the finest available, both in terms of interpretation and sound. These two discs are a fitting conclusion to a sensational series.
Before you play the first track of this disc, make sure you're in quiet surroundings and ready to listen closely. You'll hear a pure yet sensuous soprano voice slip gently out of the silence and sing a melody that manages to be haunting and virtuosic at the same time–only to be followed by a similar voice doing the same thing. The two voices coil around each other (with some gleaming suspensions) for a full minute before instruments join them. And that's just the beginning of this marvelous disc of motets by François Couperin, a composer better known for his keyboard and chamber music. Most of these pieces were written to accompany the Elevation of the Host (the most solemn moment of the Roman Catholic liturgy), so you won't hear much exuberance.
C'est le temps où la France de l'Age Classique n'en finissait pas d'opposer le style italien - personnifié alors par le grand virtuose et compositeur Corelli - au style français, associé comme on le sait à Lully, dont le nom n'avait pourtant de français que ce "y" final ! Mais François Couperin ne prit jamais parti, tant ces deux "goûts" lui paraissaient d'égale valeur : c'est ainsi qu'il rendit dans un premier temps hommage à Corelli, à travers cette grande sonade (sic) conçue comme une apothéose. Un an plus tard, L'Apothéose "composée à la mémoire immortelle de l'incomparable Monsieur" de Lully lui offrira un contrepoint fameux, tout à la gloire de la musique française…
This manuscript, from Christophe Rousset's private collection, was discovered by him in 2004. Dedicated to a Madame de Théobon, it contains not only the essential French harpsichord pieces of the late seventeenth century, but also many transcriptions of compositions by Lully and several hitherto completely unknown preludes. Providing precious insight into the art of the harpsichordist and the musical practices of that time, these pieces are recorded here for the first time. With it's powerful but still austere sound, the Nicolas Dumont harpsichord of 1704 does them full justice.
The remarkable French harpsichordist Christophe Rousset tackles Rameau’s relatively unknown instrumental transcription of his popular opéra-ballet, Les Indes Galantes.
Christophe Rousset plays Rameau’s instrumental transcription of Les Indes Galantes on the stunning 18th century Jean-Henry Hemsch harpsichord. Public disapproval to the premiere of the opéra-ballet led to Rameau not only omitting the recitatives and its controversial passages, but to transcribing the whole work for instruments. He re-grouped the remaining pieces according to their keys into what he called ‘quatre grands concerts’ or concert suites.
Gaspard Le Roux fait paraître à Paris, « Chez Foucaut Marchand a L’entrée de larüe Saint honnoré », un livre de Pieces de clavessin, qui représente à peu près toute son œuvre. Cette publication consiste en sept suites de danses. Quatre d’entre elles s’ouvrent par un prélude non mesuré. On peut trouver ensuite une (ou plusieurs parfois) allemande(s), courante(s), sarabande(s), un ou plusieurs menuet(s), une gavotte, une gigue ou un passepied… La « suite » en fa comporte une remarquable chaconne. Quelques pièces portent un titre : « La favoritte », « La bel ébat », et même … « La pièce sans titre » – ce qui est après tout une façon comme une autre de lui en donner un!
L'influence de Francois Couperin sur ses contemporains et ses successeurs de l'école francaise de clavecin voire même à travers l'europe, tel est le programme éminement didactique de Davitt Moroney dans son pur style des années 1990, celui des émissions qu'il animait sur France Musiques.