My Definitive 48: A Triumph of Musical Content over Musical Performance—
A review of Friedrich Gulda's recording of Bach's
Das Wohltemperierte Clavier
It has been twelve years since I first started exploring interpretations of Bach's The Well Tempered Clavier, beginning with Richter, then Gould, then some lacklustre version I will not do the honour of mentioning by name, then a harpsichord version of Book 1, then Edwin Fischer's, then Angela Hewitt's, then Andras Schiff's, and lastly Pollini's.
Only now has my search for the perfect 48 ended.
I have found in Friedrich Gulda my definitive recording of these pieces.
It pains me to think of the money and time I could have saved had I been made aware of this version sooner, but fate wanted me take the long haul it seems.
When it comes to Bach, I value transparency of playing so that each line can be isolated in the mind and meditatively absorbed in the integrated whole of the perfect music that it is.
I quite liked Gould's 48 for this reason but his bravado and loud playing—frequently taken too fast or too slow—have always alienated me somewhat, and many of the preludes and fugues become deadened and boring through his over-interpretation; over-interpretation also mars Richter's version which also lacks a clear base line, preventing clear appreciation of all the voices of the fugues and of the contrapuntal melodies.
Friedrich Gulda's recording has in its favour an immediate, one might say intimate, non concert-hall sound, the microphones having been placed directly above the strings.
Adding to the transparency of the sound is Gulda's extra delicate playing, slow and soft at the same time, where base and treble are clearly audible, which force one to pay attention to each note, each phrasing, each development, and come away mesmerised.
This is the most sensitively played Bach for piano on the market.
Gulda's tempi are also the most convincing I have heard, for example his very slow playing of Prelude I/8 or the fast pace of Fugue II/18, and I have never enjoyed listening to these pieces as much as now.
It is rather like all these years I had been drinking watered wine until two days ago when, having purchased this set, I had my first sip of undiluted wine.
This set pleases me so much in its understated mastery that I cannot listen to it for too long out of fear of jinxing the spell of perfection it has me under.
So long have I sought this exact interpretation, without even knowing it existed, that now I know that this has to be my favourite disc not only of classical music, but of all musical genres.
It half surprises me that Gramophone gave a poor review of this set because it is hard for me to understand how critics could overlook such perfection, but then I am also aware that critics do not necessarily have better taste than I do in these matters.
Others may prefer more performance-heavy and romanticised versions of these Preludes and Fugues, but for those of us seeking the intellectual and spiritual content of these works, Gulda's is the one to buy, at least in the opinion of this reviewer who has over a decade's worth of exploring recorded interpretations of this work.