Just about everything Jordi Savall does is worth hearing, and often winds up at the top of the competitive pack. His new Musical Offering is definitely worth hearing, and it’s certainly among the finer versions available. Part of its appeal lies in the up-front sonics that almost put you in the players’ laps, providing an immediacy that’s thrilling in and of itself; part lies in the sound of the instruments, beautifully played by the early music stalwarts of Le Concert des Nations, including harpsichordist Pierre Hantaï; and part lies in the decisions Savall has made regarding the layout of a work without specific performance indications, thus inviting movement-juggling.
The placement of the Canons (as well as Savall’s various other tweaks) is explained in the excellent booklet notes. Specifically, Savall opts for an arch structure, with the curve of the piece rising from the Ricercar a 6 for harpsichord heard early on, peaking at the centrally-placed Trio Sonata and then down again to the repeat of the Ricercar a 6 played by the full ensemble. If his intention was to create a more unified, more accessible work, then Savall has succeeded. But what appeals most in this performance is Savall’s personal approach to a piece that’s often straitjacketed by obsessive adherence to “authentic performance” orthodoxy. So there is an abundance of “affect” here–with instrumentalists leaning into a phrase or using rubato where strict ideology calls for equally strict rhythm. The very opening announces this, as flutist Marc Hantaï’s languid statement of the theme is almost startling in its slowness and in its very presence, since most Musical Offerings begin with the Ricercar a 3 that here follows Hantai’s flute.
What appeals least is the lugubrious cast to many of the movements, aggravated by Savall’s choice of a string continuo. For example, in the series of Canons featuring violins, the dark-hued string continuo adds bleaker colors than, say, the unadorned bright-toned harpsichord continuo of the Kuijken version on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi. Savall also misses opportunities to inject liveliness, if not sprightliness, in such movements as the Canon for two violins in unison, where Kuijken finds more of a dance-like quality, or in the Canon 5 a 2 per tonos, where Savall’s timing of 3:30 adds 40 seconds to the interpretation of the Accademia Bizantina (Denon), which also shaves more than a full minute off Savall’s in the Cantus Perpetuus. Ultimately such exercises as comparative timings and tempo choices matter less than the answers to two questions: 1) Do those choices stay within the parameters of valid options or do they veer off into mannerism? and 2) Do they make sense in the listening, providing enjoyment and enlightenment? My answers to both of those questions is a resounding “Yes!”
