Bach: Keyboard Partita No.6 in E Minor, BWV 830 (Anderszewski, Levit)

Bach’s last and greatest keyboard partita. It seems a little strange to place this beside the other partitas, since it is clearly aiming for something a lot more serious and concentratedly expressive than its five siblings. The opening of the Toccata (the longest single work in all the partitas) announces a seriousness of intent that you just don’t find in any of the other partitas, and is itself mirrored in two places in this suite – in the Toccata’s fugue, whose theme is built from the descending appoggiatura heard right after the first chord, and in the Sarabande. The Gigue which closes this suite is not only unorthodox (and controversial) but also a lot more motoric and obsessive than any of the other gigues in the other partitas. The Sarabande between these two movements is a dizzying and profoundly moving work – it’s awash with great tides of notes, but the density of the ornamentation does not stop it being the most moving thing Bach wrote in the partitas – it seems breathlessly rapt, lost in itself. These three movements basically hold up the partita’s structure, but there is a lot going on in the other movements. The Tempo di Gavotta is basically an Italian (read: instrumental, extravagant) Gigue, the Air sneaks in a witty second ending, the Allemande’s a wonderful showcase of chromaticism, and Corrente is desperately over-syncopated in a way that can sound fun, disorienting, or sad, depending on how you take it. Both Anderszewski and Levit and fantastic here, though there are quite clear divergences in their approaches. In Anderszewski’s hands this partita is dramatic and fierce, while Levit’s interpretation is more contemplative and inward-looking. Just listen to the stark articulation and dramatic double-dotting of the Toccata’s opening flourish in Anderszewski’s Toccata, the quiet menace of the fugue, or the rhythmic liveliness in the Allemanda. There are lots of nice touches: in the Corrente, the endings of both halves vanish into thin air, and in the repeat the LH takes on a crisp staccato while the RH articulation is slightly more forward. In the Air, the chords are arpeggiated in the repeat of the first half, while the RH introduces some very nice decoration in both repeats. And the Tempo di Gavotta is vigorous, while the Gigue is grippingly voiced and relentless (though it is carefully varied on the repeat, being toned down a notch). Levit’s opening immediately distinguishes him from Anderszewski: his is more grief-stricken and contemplative, less harshly voiced, while the fugue is warmer and less dangerous. The Allemanda is more lyrical, without Anderszewski’s pizzicato bass, and the Corrente more full-bodied, with some fine dynamic control in the fast runs and magical changes of colour in the repeats. The Sarabande is especially poignant by virtue of the attention lavished on non-harmony notes. The Tempo di Gavotta, unlike Anderszewski’s, is stately, more gavotte than gigue, and the concluding Gigue, even if its hard corners are less acutely felt than in Anderszewski’s rendition, has an extraordinary narrative breadth Anderszewski: 00:00 – Toccata 06:11 – Allemanda 09:13 – Corrente 13:51 – Air 15:37 – Sarabande 22:53 – Tempo di Gavotta 24:44 – Gigue Levit: 30:16 – Toccata 38:48 – Allemanda 42:07 – Corrente 47:24 – Air 49:13 – Sarabande 55:47 – Tempo di Gavotta 58:02 – Gigue