(++++) IMPRESSIVE, IF INAUTHENTIC

Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier, Books I and II. Idil Biret, piano. IBA. $45.99 (4 CDs).

     If any four-to-five-hour chunk of notes can be said to be the foundation of all classical music as it is known today, it is Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier, which demonstrates conclusively and inarguably how what is now essentially the standard form of instrumental tuning on Western instruments can be used to produce effective and good-sounding works in every single major and minor key. Never mind that modern tuning is not quite equivalent to Bach’s well temperament or that there are advantages to alternative tuning systems, which produce different intervallic impressions that can be used to good effect – Bach’s 48 preludes and fugues underlie even systems that differ from his, because in those cases well temperament becomes the reference point from which those alternatives deviate.

     More than a musical foundation stone, The Well-Tempered Clavier is the underpinning of Western keyboard technique, and has been for hundreds of years. This is true even though instrumental designs, tuning and sounds are now quite different from those of Bach’s time – and even though it is not entirely certain for which instrument (or perhaps instruments) Bach intended The Well-Tempered Clavier. This is music that belongs to every keyboard artist, and that is why it is part of the underlying educational and performance history of pianists such as Idil Biret. The Turkish virtuoso has performed The Well-Tempered Clavier, in parts or its totality, for seven decades, and in 2015, when she was 74, she made the complete recording that is now available in the long-running Idil Biret Archives series distributed by Naxos.

     It is important to know what this interpretation is and what it is not in order to judge it fairly and decide whether it is worth owning as one’s preferred recording of The Well-Tempered Clavier – or, more likely, as one of several favored versions, it being impossible to produce a definitive reading of this music. On the one hand, Biret’s formidable technique is everywhere apparent here, used sometimes to produce a sense of long lines and extended melodies that go beyond the essence of notes on a page, while being kept in check at other times so the structural underpinnings of the preludes and (especially) the fugues come through clearly and cleanly. On the other hand, Biret’s rendition of The Well-Tempered Clavier is inherently pianistic, beholden to the sounds and sustaining capabilities of a modern piano even when avoiding excessive pedal use and the potentially overdone dynamics attainable through the instrument’s substantial key travel. Here, The Well-Tempered Clavier does not sound at all as it does in historically informed performances on keyboards of Bach’s time. The effectiveness of Biret’s reading requires a willing suspension of disbelief in the aural world of Baroque music and a desire to absorb Bach’s work in thoroughly modern guise and with ears attuned to the 21^st century, not the 18^th.

     Biret certainly makes The Well-Tempered Clavier her own. There are pluses and minuses – some matters of interpretation, others matters of opinion – throughout the four-and-three-quarter-hour span of this four-disc set. So what follows are some once-over-lightly thoughts.

     In Book I, the first fugue is rather stodgy, the scurrying second prelude is very attractive, and the third prelude is also well done. The extended fourth fugue is somewhat too resonant, largely because of Biret’s pedal use – it is worth pointing out that fugues never work quite as well on piano as on harpsichord, because piano sounds sustain even when the pedal is not overused; there is therefore some lack of clarity in the individual lines. Prelude No. 5 is bright and delicate, No. 6 dances bouncily with well-articulated triplets, and Fugue No. 6 has more clarity of the voices than do some others under Biret’s guidance. Fugue No. 7 is presented with an attractively light touch. The very extended eighth prelude-and-fugue combination is a highlight here: the prelude serious although somewhat over-resonant (again, from pedal use), and the fugue deeply emotional. The ninth prelude-and-fugue entry, shorter and lighter, provides an effective contrast. Prelude No. 13 has a pleasantly pastoral feeling, while the comparatively simple No. 15 is handled with attractive straightforwardness. The pleasant Prelude No. 20 is followed by a somewhat puzzling fugue that includes a difficult hand stretch above a held lower note – a comparatively easy effect on piano but a nearly impossible one on harpsichord, which could indicate that Bach intended at least parts of The Well-Tempered Clavier for pedal harpsichord or even organ. Prelude No. 21 is ebullient and nicely upbeat, with a pleasing stop-and-start quality that contrasts well with the more-deliberate rhythm of its paired fugue. As for No. 24, the longest of all 48 elements of The Well-Tempered Clavier, the very extended prelude's steady left-hand bass anchors it well, and the fugue's chromatic theme makes for a good contrast.

     In Book II, the first fugue is nicely paced and elegant, the second prelude has attractive dynamic contrasts, and in the third fugue, Biret successfully keeps individual left-hand notes crisp – although the harpsichord is still better than the piano for this material. In Prelude No. 4, the initial delicacy and wistfulness are effective, but as this piece proceeds, it relies too heavily on the piano's note-sustaining ability. Similarly, Prelude No. 5 features runs up and down the keyboard that are more effective on harpsichord. Fugue No. 8 is one of Biret’s few missteps: it is overly stodgy and tends to drag. But Prelude No. 9 contrasts well with it, being bright and lively, while in Fugue No. 10, the grace notes are especially nicely handled. Fugue No. 11 is jaunty, while the seriousness of Prelude No. 12 is well-communicated – although, as elsewhere, there is a bit too much pedal. The ornamentation in Fugue No. 13 is well-handled, but the bass in Fugue No. 14 is somewhat over-emphatic. Prelude No. 15 is bright and upbeat, No. 18 starts with dramatic flair, and No. 19 features gentle motion. The 20^th prelude-and-fugue combination is the most proto-Romantic of Biret’s interpretations: the dark sound relies heavily on the piano's sustaining of notes, and she handles the fugue similarly. Fugue No. 22 also relies heavily on sustained chordal notes, above and amid which an individual-note line moves stepwise. And Fugue No. 23 likewise depends on individual notes being heard against a sustained chordal background – an effective piano technique unavailable on instruments of Bach’s time. The final prelude proceeds pleasantly and gently and leads to an equally pleasant fugue featuring good balance between right and left hands.

     No listener will mistake Biret’s reading of The Well-Tempered Clavier for a historically informed performance, but no listener should deem it anything less than thoughtful. It would be easy for a performer to overdo the capabilities of a modern piano in order to give Bach’s work scope and sweep far beyond what Bach intended – while undermining its academic/educational elements, which are key to its structure and effective presentation. Biret is too thoughtful and intelligently restrained to misuse all the capabilities of the piano in music created for and within a very different sound world. As a result, she produces, in the main, a sensitive and admirably understated piano version of a work not written for piano but certainly capable of communicating its many pleasures and instructional elements via a keyboard whose capabilities Bach never knew.