Complete recordings of great works such as Bach’s sonatas, his “Well-Tempered Clavier,” or Chopin’s “24 Preludes” occupy a unique place within the history of musical recording. It’s in their entirety that they are most unique and powerful, whereas in the purity of their repertoire, individual pieces are generally regarded as being largely heterogeneous. These timeless compositions transcend their authors and are given new life with each interpretation, and such is the case with Bach’s “Goldberg Variations.” Published in 1741, as the fourth and last part of his Clavier-Übung, the “Goldberg Variations” still remain, almost 300 years later, amongst the baroque master’s most important works, not only for the history of musical composition and recording in general (Glenn Gould, Trevor Pinnock, Rosalyn Tureck, and many others come to mind), but also for Víkingur Ólafsson in particular. “I’ve been dreaming of recording this work for 25 years,” says the Icelandic pianist, thus confirming that these studies are more a life’s work than a whim.Beginning with a melody that’s simple in appearance, the work is spread over a total of 30 variations, becoming a masterpiece of complexity. Determined, at surface level, by a rigid formal framework, the material itself nevertheless demands a “sort of interpretive improvisation”. Ólafsson recognises this paradox and makes it his own not by interpreting the different variations with technical precision and a strict loyalty to the metronome, but rather by following cyclical impulses and organic interpretation. At the same time, he evolves with the work and transcends it, whether in the creativity of the fugues or the complexity of the different canons, which influence one another, rely on one another, and, finally, like a parabola, return to the first melody and the beginning of all that had transpired previously -  like the ebb and flow of the Icelandic ocean, whose waves we know will always return to shore, but whose calm or strength we can never be sure of. © Lena Germann/Qobuz

One may well wonder why (or whether) a non-keyboard version of Bach's Goldberg Variations, BWV 988, arguably at the apex of the entire tradition of keyboard music, is at all needed. However, Baroque violinist Rachel Podger and Brecon Baroque member Chad Kelly, who "reimagined" the work (arranged is not a strong enough word), offer several justifications for their deployment of the Variations across various kinds of chamber music here. "Despite what many respected and respectful commentators have propagated," Kelly says, "it is not a sacrosanct work of pure, absolute and abstract art." Kelly seeks to use the varied settings to clarify Bach's counterpoint, to examine the musical influences that were in the air when Bach wrote the work, and to "be idiomatic to the historical instruments used in its performance and to the individual styles and genres referenced in the work." All this involves rewriting certain passages. That is a lot to ask, but generally, Kelly and Podger make it work. There are just 18 tracks, with several variations often combined into a little suite. This tends to deemphasize the tripartite structure of the variations, with a canon every third variation. Listeners can make up their own mind about that, but most will be impressed enough by the smooth Baroque winds in the slower variations, especially the crucial Adagio Variation 26, that they will be won over by this unorthodox effort. This release made classical best-seller charts in the autumn of 2023.© James Manheim /TiVo

To record the Golberg Variations, the absolute pinnacle of western works on harpsichord and the apotheosis of the Baroque era, is the ultimate dream for many musicians. Lang Lang, who admits to have studied the fourth section of the Clavierübung by the Cantor of Leipzig for over twenty years, is no exception. This collection offers two interpretations of the same work. Firstly, a studio version, captured beautifully at the Berlin Jesus-Christus Kirche in March 2020 under the supervision of Christopher Alder, in which Lang Lang displays more measured tempos, particularly in the the initial aria and the first variation. This approach begins to animate itself more in the next section before the first variation in G minor which is slow, sluggish-sounding and unrelenting, taking on a stubborn and repetitive saraband rhythm - a remarkable conclusion to the first section. The outburst of the French Ouverture of Variation 16 is nothing short of spectacular. The following variations pass quickly before the second variation in G minor (Var. 21, Conone alla Settima.), with its very depressive phrasing, an imaginary Tombeau which momentarily instills an impressive gravity. Lang Lang nevertheless remains indifferent to the intrinsic structure of the Goldberg Variations, organised into ten successive groups of three variations with each group finishing with an increasingly complex canon (from the Var. 3’s Canone all’Unisono to Var.27’s Canone all Nona). For the Chinese pianist, his expressive heart seems to concentrate on the three minor key variations, and he doesn’t hesitate to project a Baroque expressionism that finishes the Golbergs with a touch of pathos and romanticism alongside a rounded and silky sound.The energy of the Leipzig public, on the 5 of March 2020, adds a welcome characteristic. During the concert, recorded by Philip Krause, who also accompanied Alder during his studio recording, Lang Lang has fun with the polyphony, beginning with the Aria. Here, he dances and injects subtle variations into the accents, thus opening up a wider and more diverse field of expression (Var. 1, Var. 7). Mischievous (Variation 23 has 2 harpsichords!), Lang Lang lets his imagination run rampant and the emotion that ensues is truly striking (Var. 21, with its obsessive delays). A certain weight is lifted, even in the way the harpsichord sounds, which bears witness to how the Chinese pianist’s sound has changed over the last fifteen years. © Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz

This 2023 release inaugurates an ongoing series from baritone Samuel Hasselhorn and pianist Ammiel Bushakevitz, performing Schubert works two centuries on from their date of composition, and slated to culminate in 2028, the bicentennial of the composer's death. The project begins with one of the most famous Schubert song cycles of all, Die schöne Müllerin, D. 795, depicting the crackup and despair of a young wanderer who falls in love with a beautiful miller's daughter. Hasselhorn has plenty of recent competition in this cycle; listeners can sample the 2017 recording by Christian Gerhaher and Gerold Huber for another approach, but this one promises well for the ongoing project. Die schöne Müllerin is a work in which Schubert took vast strides toward the emancipation of the piano in the lied, and Bushakevitz leans into this aspect, with details that illuminate and often foreshadow themes developing in the text. Hasselhorn has a warm baritone with an appealing conversational tone that turns chilly and quiet toward the cycle's downer conclusion. Another draw is Harmonia Mundi's sound from the b-sharp studio in Berlin; the engineers put Bushakevitz just a bit forward in the mix, not so much as to sap energy from Hasselhorn's singing, but enough to highlight his perceptive performance. This release bodes well indeed for the duo's future work.© James Manheim /TiVo

Without being a mandatory baptism of fire, Jean-Sébastien Bach has always been a captivating magnet for many jazz musicians. So much so that people like Jacques Loussier, Keith Jarrett, the Modern Jazz Quartet, Dan Tepfer or Edouard Ferlet to name but a handful, all tackled head on, and for good reason, the work of the Cantor of Leipzig . The choice made by Brad Mehldau is a hybrid. The American pianist does not create here a jazz album strictly speaking - fans of "Jazzy Bach" can go home straight away - but he mixes themes of Bach - four preludes and a fugue - to personal and contemporary pieces; as intriguing answers or mirror games to original works. The exercise is all the more interesting because part of Bach's work took the form of improvisation. As for Mehldau, his style, but also his compositions, have always contained elements echoing the German composer. We know the rhythmic force of Bach's writing that appeals to jazz musicians. But here, the pianist has thought through his record in its entirety, never trying to separate his works from that of the other. The result is therefore confusing at first (especially for those familiar with the preludes and fugues of the original) but fascinating above all else. Because After Bach is anything but an impressive show of class (Brad Mehldau does not need that much, his virtuosity as a great no longer needs to be proven) but rather an exciting reflection on the life of a score through the centuries. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Careful, you don’t want to miss this! For ten years, there have been so many Goldberg Variations invading the market, both on piano and on harpsichord, that we didn’t expect to be so surprised, to feel such amazement. After several absolutely fascinating projects, first with Pan Classics (Scarlatti, Soler), then a first album with Harmonia Mundi devoted to Padre Soler rare Sonatas (awarded with a Qobuzism), here again comes Spanish harpsichordist Diego Ares—born in Vigo in 1983—playing Johann Sebastian Bach, with probably one of the Cantor’s most complex works; Diego Ares astonishes with his rigor, his imagination and his freedom, both in the phrasing, the registrations, the ornamentation, the sense of surprise (Variation 25). The harmonies sound implacable, often harsh, yet still radiate in a supreme way (Variation 28); this is the left hand, full and musical, but above all incredibly flexible, that is also able to rear up, to create sometimes surprising suspensions in time, always fluid and coherent, which opens real places of communication and distinguish the amazing narrative sense deployed by Diego Ares throughout this interpretation. © Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz

There is no hint of historically oriented performance here as pianist Piotr Anderszewski performs pieces, half of them to be exact from Book II of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier, BWV 870-893, in a way that apparently no other keyboardist, modern or historical, has ever done. There are various surprises in Anderszewski's interpretation, but the big one is that he departs from Bach's published order. He is straightforward about what he is doing, asserting in the notes that "it seems to me that [the published order] is not one in which the pieces follow each other with an emotional, musical inevitability." Anderszewski supplies his own ordering, which leaves the C major prelude and fugue (but not the C minor) at the beginning and the B major and minor pieces at the end. In between are pairs in fourth- and third-related keys, building toward a somberly slow Fugue in G sharp minor. The idea makes sense on its own terms, and Anderszewski could cite in his favor that some of these pieces were probably written much earlier than others and were roped by Bach into the final set; he didn't sit down and write them out in sequence. Anderszewski's execution is both rigorous and attractive. He perceives the works as "character pieces" and "realised the particular importance of giving each theme of each fugue a specific character." These are carried through the fugues with impressive consistency and control. Throughout, Anderszewski keeps his piano to chamber dimensions, and the variety with the overall quiet dynamic levels becomes quite absorbing. The downside is that although Bach reworked his compositions in many ways, he never did so in anything like this way, and, with a composer as systematically minded as Bach, one hesitates to fool with basic structures. Taken on its terms, however, Anderszewski's performance succeeds.© TiVo

David Fray, returning to his beloved Johann Sebastian Bach, invites us to join him on a salutary personal journey. His Goldberg Variations is unlike any other: their romanticised aesthetic reveals the French pianist’s desire to bring to life the architectural perfection of the thirty-two pieces. He boldly opts for strong contrasts of tempo, accents and phrasing which might sound more at home in more contemporary works. Here, each variation is a part of a whole, but always self-sufficient, too. David Fray constantly plays on this tension between the fleeting pleasure of the moment and the final resolution, the infinite: and all the while, he is seeking to identify a character, a feeling, that can define each of the pieces. He does not hesitate to take us deep into the expressive meanderings that the Leipzig Cantor worked into these variations. The result is a rich and exciting vision, which will undoubtedly resonate with the listener's own shifting and changing moods.It should be emphasised that this performance is marked by astonishingly precise piano playing, in the attacks and chosen articulations of the pianist. Take, for example, the airy Var. 26 or the agility of Var. 29. Or, again, the Fughetta of Var. 10, or Var. 8, with its clear differences in articulation between exposition and reprise, and it's very subtle accelerations. The Cantor’s dense and complex polyphony shines through at every turn. The rhythmic patterns are also more varied, as if David Fray was trying to find a little dance in each passage, rather like Scarlatti in his 30 Essercizi per gravicembalo, or to reveal more fully the spirit of improvisation that may have guided the composition. The long and unusual resonance between the final Quodlibet and the return of the Aria convinces us of the uniqueness of this new version of the Goldberg Variations, performed in Barbazan-Debat at the beginning of June 2021, not far from the Pyrenees National Park, and rendered all the greater by Jean-Marc Laisné's spellbinding sound recording © Pierre-Yves Lascar/Qobuz