Bach - Goldberg Variations

Pity the pianists who’ve recorded Bach’s Goldberg Variations since Glenn Gould’s famous 1955 account. And too, those who’ve done so since this equally well-known 1981 remake. Comparisons will inevitably be made. That said, it’s easy to hear why Gould’s later reading is now as legendary as his first. Forget his eccentricities – not least, the mildly irritating humming – and just listen to his playing. It’s electric, it’s alive; and it’s impossible to detail all 30 variations in a concise review. So let’s dispense with track times, be selective and look at a few of the highlights.

An intimate relationship

Even without Gould’s unique interpretive touches, this recording will fail for purists; Bach’s keyboard works on a modern piano won’t tickle their ivories. For others, it’ll succeed from the first notes of the opening Aria – the theme on which the variations are built – because this simple tune is for Gould the entrance into a world he knows well. And one he clearly cares for passionately, as the energy burst which kick-starts Variation (Var) 1 and wakes us from that dreamy Aria proves.

Playfulness, panache and pace

Bright and bold, Var 4 is a child trying to walk in grown-up shoes; while Var 5 is dense counterpoint - two musical ideas going in different directions. Var 7 is lilting and gentle, and Var 10 is a song the piano sings in rounds, adding colour and ornamentation as it goes. In Var 13, everything is pared (and slowed) down. This throws Var 14’s decorous trills and furious fingerwork into sharp relief. Scampering of a similar, though less hurried, kind characterises Var 17. By Var 19, there’s a more deliberate tempo – then it’s a race to keep up with Var 20, as it hurtles forward at speed.

Affectation, innocence and loss

With Var 21, a change of mood. Its opening seems tragic and theatrical, self-conscious and suspiciously insincere. But its pretense is forgotten by the time we reach Var 24, with its skipping nursery rhyme rhythm (think of “Humpty Dumpty” as it begins). Then six minutes of private grief, as Var 25 – perhaps the most famous of all – paints a picture of a woman of declining years listening to this music and remembering loved ones and young lives claimed by war.

From headlong to the head

Var 26 stands in stark contrast to its predecessor. Its fizzing, dizzying notes share something in common with those which whizz past our ears in Var 28 (both variations are a testament to Gould’s pin-point pianism). Var 29 impresses with its assertive, masculine playing, as Gould manfully climbs and descends scales. This is followed by the small-scale grandeur of Var 30 – proud and processional, yet regal and refined.

Then at last, we return to where it all began. The Aria da capo – a slower repeat of the opening Aria - reminds us of this central theme’s humility, elegance and beauty. A moving melody that lasts less than a minute brings the work to a close. The Aria’s simplicity belies this music’s complexity; some of these variations can be really rather tricky to hum. Unless, that is, you’re Glenn Gould.