Like his contemporary Louis Couperin, Johann Jacob Froberger preferred to let his music speak for itself. He left no known treatises to clue the interpreter one way or the other as to interpretation, save for the usual dance markings in the suites themselves. Once in a rare while he’ll title a movement programmatically, alluding to an extramusical subject (such as in the Allemande of Suite III here subtitled “Wasserfall” or waterfall); but otherwise, the performer is left to freely interpret within the stylistic keyboard parameters of the time. For the less imaginative performer this can be stultifying. For the adventurous one however, the rich variety of Froberger’s ideas can bring great joy.
On this new two-CD set from CPO, harpsichordist Ludger Rèmy is thankfully up to the task. He offers the debut recording of Froberger’s complete autograph Strasbourg Manuscript, an amazing collection of 14 keyboard suites brimming with fine ideas which was discovered in 1675, eight years after its composer’s death. How youthful and exuberant these works are! And how pensive and introspective they can become. The scope and variety of Froberger’s imagination places him on par with Rameau, the Couperins, Frescobaldi, and d’Anglebert in their prime. In Germany certainly, he had no peer before J.S. Bach. Listen to the marvelous Gigue in Suite XII, for instance. Rèmy’s pointed contrapuntal voice-leading may make the piece impossible to dance to–it is, after all, a stylization–yet it’s musically fascinating, a real treat for the ear. In the Allemande of Suite IV, Rèmy treats each run as if it were a new beginning; a fresh start in a series of fresh starts that ends up completeing the piece. The simple minute-long Courante in Suite X is a model of dignity undermined, with it’s cocky twists and flourishes humorously interupting the march. This set is loaded with similarly brilliant inventive moments.
CPO’s sound is excellent; Rèmy’s harpsichord has sufficient weight, yet sparkles gracefully. His fascinating, personal notes are appropriately suited to the diverse interpretive nature of the program. Since this is the only recording of these pieces, there is no comparison. However, for those inclined to further their enjoyment of Froberger, I heartily recommend last year’s “Ou L’intranquillité” by longstanding Froberger champion Blandine Verlet (Astree Naive), as well as a much older, transcendental program performed by Enrico Baiano (Symphonia). Like these, this recording could not be recommended more highly!
