Scarlatti 141

Acclaimed French harpsichord player Christophe Rousset seems to have made only this one CD of Domenico Scarlatti sonatas to date. All but the last 4 sonatas were performed on a single manual Portuguese instrument dating from 1785. It has a silent action, a pungent bass and spicy, rich sonorities right up to the top treble. The other instrument has two manuals and, dating from 1756 England, is closer in time to Scarlatti's own era. Rousset makes good use of the resources the two manuals provide, and accidentally kicks the wooden casing, in K 140. Like most keyboard players who enjoy a challenge, he has a high old time with the frenetic repetitions and hand crossings in K 141 (which M.Argerich did on piano in a famous Youtube video btw)

The 18th-century Italian composer Domenico Scarlatti wrote an incredible 555 keyboard sonatas. Many are just a few minutes in length, but through their infinite invention and variety of color, they explore the full technical and textural range of the harpsichord. French virtuoso Jean Rondeau’s program of just 15—with a mischievous improvisation of his own to break the pace halfway through—gives a superb overview of Scarlatti’s genius. Rondeau’s brilliantly incisive playing is perfect for the blistering pyrotechnic displays of K. 141 and K. 119, and his beautifully judged rubato transforms the simplest of the composer’s more introspective sonatas, such as K. 69 and K. 199, into beautiful arias.

Scott Ross was the first ever keyboardist to take up this challenge: recording the complete set of Scarlatti 555 sonatas. He left us an amazing testimony of his art during the year and a half this mad undertaking lasted. This complete collection is a landmark in recording history - enjoy its quintessence in this florilegium of thirty select sonatas for harpsichord (with a second volume to follow).

The biggest surprise on this wonderfully exuberant and exhilarating disc comes with the very first notes: the piano tone is rich and full, worlds away from the slightly distant, musical-box tone that is often thought appropriate for recordings of Domenico Scarlatti's sonatas on a modern concert grand. But as the soundworld suggests, Tharaud is totally unapologetic about playing these pieces – all originally composed for harpsichord even though the earliest fortepianos were in circulation in Scarlatti's time – on a piano. In the sleevenotes, Tharaud says that of the four baroque keyboard composers that he has recorded so far – Bach, Couperin, Rameau and now Scarlatti – it's the last whose music is most suited to this treatment. His selection of sonatas is chosen for maximum variety, with a group in which the Spanish inflections of flamenco and folk music can be heard, others in which he gets a chance to show some dazzling technique, alongside those in which the playfulness is replaced by profound introspection.

This anthology of devotional music from 18th-century Venice and Naples offers an interesting and varied programme. Best known is Pergolesi’s Stabat mater, but the settings by Domenico Scarlatti and Bononcini stand well in comparison. The motets by Lotti, Caldara and Alessandro Scarlatti are real discoveries; Norrington’s performances of the latter are particularly fine. Guest’s Pergolesi suffers from a focus of sound which makes the interpretation seem somewhat generalised. However, all these performances give pleasure, while the music is melodically fresh and rhythmically vital.

What makes Hantaï so thrilling is his insatiable curiosity for ever newer and bolder effects, a ringmaster's sense for giving an audience more than one show at a time. Topping it all is a bubbling youthful zeal, though zeal doesn't do Hantaï's energy level justice - his variety and his recklessness are amazing, he takes tremendous chances, and hits some unbelieveable speeds. Every possible color of the instrument he uses is toyed with and brought out, sometimes tenderly, but more often with elan, panache, brio, gusto - whatever, Hantaï's loaded with the stuff!