Waking up early on a cold Sunday morning to attend a Baroque music concert may not sound like everyone’s cup of tea; yet the filled seats of the Theatre des Champs-Elysées proved otherwise. Hundreds had braved the morning cold to come and see Jean Rondeau, one of the newest and most popular names in classical music in France and abroad. At barely 21, he won first prize at the Bruges International Harpsichord Competition and was named the following year the most promising musician in Europe. Keen to bring the harpsichord out of its dusty cupboard and into a more “cool” light, Jean Rondeau is now taking the French radio and concert halls by storm, quickly making a name for himself and his mastery of the harpsichord. Having also studied classical piano and jazz improvisation at the Paris and London conservatoires, it is no giant leap to call Rondeau a veritable keyboard master.
Though a jazz pianist may not be everyone’s first choice when finding the next harpsichord virtuoso, the harpsichord and the keyboard being two completely different instruments with each a unique touch and texture, it was clear from the opening Prélude (Fantaisie) BWV997 and BWV894 by Bach that this was not simply a jazz pianist “having a go” at Baroque music. Rondeau’s touch, both strong yet nimble, made swift work of Bach’s intricate fugal textures. Though perhaps occasionally a little slack and casual with the tempo, the opening preludes swiftly woke up any of those in the audience still yet completely awake.
Once warmed up, Rondeau then tackled the infamous Chaconne BWV1004. Initially composed for violin and here transcribed for harpsichord by Brahms (one of the work’s lesser known transcriptions), Bach’s Chaconne is an immense work, full of technical chordal accompaniment supporting and accompanying a beautiful melody. However, the work’s true value lies not simply in its melodic or technical elements, but precisely in the combination of the two. The spreading of complex chords emphasises the first beat of the bar whilst adding continuous coloration. Similarly, the virtuosic runs throughout the work are nonetheless designed to accentuate precise notes, thereby continuing the melodic development. Transcribing for piano a work originally composed for violin risks removing almost all technical challenges: the dexterous technicality of the work for violin precisely prevents the performer from rushing the runs or chordal passages, thus assuring a steady melodic continuity and phrasing. Though performed from memory with apparent ease and technical perfection by Rondeau, the lack of rhythmic “rigidity” (not to be confused with rhythmic “stiffness”) resulted in many of the runs being unintelligible. It is through this rigidity that the work’s melody is brought out, and it is precisely, and unfortunately, this rigidity that was somewhat missing in Rondeau’s performance.