The double Reed (March 2008)
These compositions
by Antoine Dard six sonatas for bassoon and basso continuo, plus other
works show that the composer was quite a bassoonist, and the recording
makes clear that Ricardo Rapoport is, too. Dard, born in the small Burgundian
town of Chapaize in 1715, rose to become section leader of the bassoons in the
Académie royale de musique (the Paris Opera) by 1763. His six sonatas,
published in Paris in 1759 as opus 2 (no opus 1 is known), are florid works
in four movements: slow-fast-slow-fast. Major-key slow movements are generally
in the then-fashionable galant style: light, straightforward, and even
sentimental, though often filigreed with ornaments. Minor-key slow movements
are more operatic (Telemann's Sonata in F Minor will not be far from
the bassoon-playing listener's mind), while fast movements are usually dance-like.
Rapoport uses a reproduction of an early bassoon by Prudent Thieriot, this one
made by Olivier Cottet. Its singing cantabile in the tenor range, shading into
gruffness in the middle and lower registers, points the way to the sound of
later French bassoons by Savary and Buffet, among others. Rapoport achieves
a wide dynamic range and maintains a generally high standard of intonation;
soft-pedaling low notes, he ends phrases with finesse.
»Dard uses the bassoon as though it were an operatic »bel canto«
tenor«, Rapoport writes in his detailed liner notes, »often employing
the very high register«. Sure enough, Dard tosses in a high C early in
the first sonata, and second later, a D possibly the earliest known composition
demanding these notes from the bassoon. Rapoport smoothly integrates these and
other high notes into the melodic line. In doing so, he is apparently aided
by a wing key, which is present on a few of the surviving Prudent originals.
Such a bassoon is ideally suited to Dard: Prudent became a master maker in 1759
(when most baroque composers were in their graves), and died in 1786.
Rapoport excels in the slow movements (often marked »aria«, »arietta«
or »grazioso«), where the bassoon line floats in the tessitura above
the bass staff. As he remarks, Dard's score includes »written-out decorations
and, most importantly, articulation marks for each note, set down with an obsessive
precision.« Rapoport's caressing tone and gentle inflections breathe the
thin air on the fragile galant style: appoggiaturas are often long, tapering
to a delicate tremblement or trill, while the little ornaments that begin
or end so many notes in this style receive the proper featherweight touch. Rapoport
is no slouch in the fast movements, however; he handily dispatches the whirlwinds
of perpetual motion that Dard included to show off his own technique.
The sonatas are delicious. But lest there be too much of a good thing, the artists
intersperse four short vocal works by Dard, sung with appealing freshness by
Karine Sérafin. She is accompanied variously and expertly by the flutist
François Nicolet, the harpsichordist Pascal Dubreuil, and the bassoonist
himself. With this one exception, the performers chose to omit melodic instruments
from the continuo, »an increasingly acceptable solution in this period«,
Rapoport comments: it allows for »more freedom and fantasy... as well
as transparency«. These qualities mark the graceful continuo playing of
Dubreuil, whose collaboration with Rapoport is idiomatic and persuasive.
Liner notes and vocal texts in French, English, and German are included.
James Kopp