I have been off the List for three months, and only got back on a couple
of weeks ago.  It's good to have the posts back in my mailbox, but I've
noticed the volume is down a bit (ahem, that's not entirely a bad thing).
In any case, this month's Stereophile magazine had a review by David
Patrick Stearns of a recording of the Well-Tempered Clavier by the young
Austrian pianist, Till Fellner.  I enjoyed the historical perspective
of the review and would be interested if anyone else has an opinion of
this recording or others mentioned in the review, so I thought I'd share
it with the List.  I also hope to stimulate comments regarding whether
Bach is better served by the piano or the harpsichord (the List could
use a good religious war about now).  I've also included links to other
reviews of Fellner's performances, where comments by some chap named Don
Satz may be found.

   http://www.straight.com/content.cfm?id"91
   http://www.bach-cantatas.com/NVD/BWV846-893-Fellner.htm

   To those who listen to Bach casually, this new recording of the
   Well-Tempered Clavier, by Till Fellner, is sheer pleasure- its
   legato line clean, graceful, and intelligently colored, its sound
   picture warm, clear, and inviting.  But to those who follow Bach
   performance, the recording also signifies larger things- such
   as a triumphant culmination of the past 20 years of Bach on
   piano.

   In 1985, the much-celebrated 300th anniversary of the birth of
   Johann Sebastian coincided with the emergence of pianist Andras
   Schff as a major recording presence.  Prior to that, Bach seemed
   to be unofficially banned on piano everywhere but in ever-isolated
   Russia.  Of course, there was Glenn Gould, but his obsession
   with clarity apologized for his instruments of choice, his later
   performances particularly negating the piano's distinctive
   expressive possibilities.  Only the harpsichord was sanctioned
   by the historically informed performance community; even Bach
   pianist Rosalyn Tureck periodically defected to that instrument.
   Schiff's breakthrough came with no proof of academic validity:
   he silenced criticism through irresistible musicality.

   He still does.  But with his life increasingly taken up
   with other repertoire and conducting, Schiff's style of
   legato-but-not-opaque Bach has been taken up by others: first,
   with even more charm, by Angela Hewitt, and now, with even more
   probing intelligence, by Till Fellner.

   Better known in Europe than in America, Fellner has made superb
   recordings of Mozart piano concertos, among other works, and has
   the unqualified endorsement of no less than Alfred Brendel, who
   as one of his teachers has said that Fellner has, "all the
   ingredients to be a great pianist and sustain a long career."
   So seemingly effortless and natural is Fellner's art that, at
   first, one doesn't know what to say, aside from one's sense that
   this is exactly the way music should be.  Then one is reminded
   that this is music for which the composer left few dynamic
   markings.  It's tabula rasa - all interpreters must create their
   own version of Bach's world, and Fellner's is more rich and
   complete unto itself than any since the iconoclastic 1970's
   recordings by Sviatoslav Richter (RCA GC 60949).

   Fellner takes an essentially vocal approach.  Just as a great
   singer such as Renee Fleming creates the illusion of a floating
   vocal line, so does Fellner establish a sense of hovering sound,
   but one that takes on great specificity in characterizing Bach's
   intricate counterpoint.  Nothing so new about that, but rarely
   has this sort of sound been used to accommodate so much detail
   of articulation or range of emotion, especially in that least
   vocal of musical forms, the fugue.  One feels as if one is peering
   into a microscope and witnessing the inner working of some
   wondrous organism.  More specifically thrilling are Fellner's
   tempo accelerations: He can take off like a shot without breaking
   a sweat.

   The Russian Bach pianists, such as Richter, achieved expressive
   range by enlarging the frame of Bach's music- sound and gesture
   took on heroic proportions, distorting existential despair;
   Fellner reveals that quality from a slightly safer distance while
   allowing other emotional colors to intermingle and revealing the
   graceful lines of the piece's musical architecture.  Such a
   miniaturist approach, made possible by Fellner's ultra-refined
   technique, implies great and profuound things with incredibly
   minute means.

   Yet Fellner doesn't displace the recordings that have come before
   his.  His Zen-like balance and integration of interpretive
   priorities is a lens through which one can re-appreciate the
   unlimited interpretive possibilities- both his and others'- in
   this supremely great music.

   David Patrick Stearns
   http://www.stereophile.com/

Larry Sherwood