Recording Bach-Day 4

Today marked the first day in the studio with the Partitas. I had determined to record the Sonatas in the winter, and embark on the Partitas with Spring’s arrival. Up till today, with the UK apparently set on being wet and cold indefinitely, this seemed an idle plan. But the clouds cleared the sun came out, and the walk across the fields to record was full of Dandelions, Violets and Skylarks. Perfect for the E major Partita.

Bach – E Major solo Sonata Peter Sheppard Skaerved – Violin (Stradivari 1698 ‘Joachim’ 30th April  2012 St the John the Baptist Aldbury

Testing….testing. As a brief mic test, and a overview of the whole-the only thing that I like to do before the first take  is this-I don’t really warm up-a byte-size (sic) overview of the whole piece…

OUTTAKES…

LoureGavotte en RondeauMenuets I & IIBouree (two approaches!)Giga

Recording Bach-Day 3 Bach – A minor Solo Sonata Peter Sheppard Skaerved – Violin (Stradivari 1698 ‘Joachim’) 20th February 2012 St the John the Baptist Aldbury Engineer-Jonathan Haskell 1st Movement – Grave2nd Movement – Fuga3rd Movement – Andante4th Movement-Allegro

A great  living composer responds. Michael Alec Rose, E mail to PSS 22 2 12: ‘Listened to your Andante and came across the following a few minutes later, as if the one caused the other to spring into being: “I just think it’s good to remember that the dance of real understanding doesn’t begin or end on the stage, nor on the page, nor in any venue under human control.” from THE TREE OF MEANING, by Robert Bringhurst’

14th Feburary 2012: The Bach project has brought back the memories of when I began grappling with the material. It was the violinist and great teacher Beatrix Marr who introduced me to the G minor, when I was 10 years old. I would go to  stay with her in her medieval cottage in South Devon, and Bach was the centre of everything we did-along with hunting for neolithic stone tools in her vegetable garden… ‘Trix’, who had been a student of DC Dounis and Rowsby Wood, had had me work on the last movement in the most (at the time) ridiculously complicated way, with multiple bowings to internalise (now I understand) every possible overlayered sub-rhythm and implied extra harmony. I was grateful to her yesterday.

1-2-12:Note to self: Bach has been at the centre of my musical life since I was a child. Recording the first leg of the Sonatas and Partitas brought much of my history with these pieces to the fore. The people who have helped me find a way through these works tapped me on the shoulder, reminded me of by musical duty, assured me that they would be there on the path./Memories of first steps towards playing counterpoint on the violin emerged. My first rather public experiments were barefoot, straight from sailing or rock-pooling in the wonderful church of St Anthony-in-Meneage, athwart Gillan Creek. Our family holidays were there, and I fell in love with the straight, clear, acoustic of this church, which floods at the spring tide. This is the last completely candlelit church in England, so practising at the end of the day was visually beautiful, as the light from the south facing side aisle window, cast rippling patterns on the sisal matting and stone floor.  Recording in the wonderful church of St John the Baptist, Aldbury, I discovered that I was seeking out the sound of that formative acoustic, under the barrel roof of the nave, true to its name, a ship, upside down for winter and shelter. Walking to and from the church to record, is across a mile of fields from Tring Station, walking towards the Ashridge, accompanied, yesterday, by Long-Tailed-Tits, Magpies, and along a deer track. It struck me that this combination, of journeying and architecture, a parish path to an ancient church, the chance to walk in the quiet footsteps of my forebears, is my reason for playing Bach. /In the session, other voices. Teachers-a note on my over-marked copy  from the great Manoug Parikian-‘Peter, why do you find it so difficult?’-a fingering, which came to help me, or Louis Krasner demonstrating the most graceful triple-stopped voicing, glaring at me with the ferocious intensity of one who never stopped believing in connective power of art. For the Adagio, a half-remembered teenage conversation with a friend, who had played the work to Sandor Vegh. She told me that he had talked about a sunrise. I never met him, but that has helped, over the years. /Afterwards, the walk back to the station across starlit fields crisp with frost. A good beginning.