English 18th-century keyboard music

English keyboard music of the 18th century is not that often performed and recorded. The sonatas by Thomas Augustine Arne are pretty well-known and are available in several recordings. Popular among organists is the genre of the voluntary; some of them, especially those by John Stanley, are regularly performed, but if they are recorded, mostly as part of anthologies.

It is not that no music of any importance was written. In an article I read that in "the later 18th century" (probably from the 1730s onwards) 150 collections of 'lessons' were published. However, these are largely ignored, and that may well be due to the amount and quality of the keyboard music that was written around 1600, by the likes of William Byrd, John Bull and Orlando Gibbons, and an impressive collection as the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. Even Henry Purcell, the main composer of the late 17th century, seems to suffer from that. A part of his music is frequently performed, but that does not go for his keyboard works (except some items). Add to that the towering figure of George Frideric Handel, whose operas inspired the publication of keyboard transcriptions of arias and instrumental pieces, and who also wrote high-calibre harpsichord suites.

in this review I would like to shed light on some that was written by three composers who have largely remained in the shadows, and who have been honoured by recent recordings of their keyboard works, closing with the much better-known Stanley.

In the 18th century London was one of the places to be for composers and performers, thanks to the many opportunities to play and its position as a centre of music publishing. Since the late 17th century many composers stayed in London for a a number of years or settled there for good. One of the latter was Jean-Baptiste Loeillet (1680-1730) [1], member of a musical dynasty from the southern Netherlands (present-day Belgium), who shared his Christian name with other members of his family, and therefore called himself 'John Loeillet of London'. There he settled around 1705. He played as flautist and oboist in the orchestra of the Queen's Theatre at the Haymarket, and organized concerts at his home.

Loeillet was also famous as a highly-skilled harpsichord player and was much sought after as a keyboard teacher. He published two collections of harpsichord pieces: three Lessons (c1712) and Six Suits of lessons for the harpsicord or spinnet in most of the key's with variety of passages and variations throughout the work (1723). The word lesson was generally used for any kind of keyboard music and does not necessarily refer to pedagogical material. However, there are good reasons to assume that these Lessons were indeed intended for amateurs who wanted to develop their skills. As Lilianna Stawarz states in the booklet to the recording of these suites by Maria Banaszkiewicz-Bryła: "[Loeillet's] intention was to teach moderately advanced performers the art of songlike phrasing, different types of ornamentation, registration, and articulation." The suites don't open with a prelude and don't include fugal movements.

Their pegagogical character does not diminish their musical value in any way. Loeillet was undoubtedly a good composer, as also other music of his pen shows. These suites are substantial and entertaining contributions to the repertoire of (English) keyboard music. The title-page specifically refers to the spinet as an alternative to the harpsichord. This was a quite common instrument among amateurs at the time, but is largely neglected in our time. Maria Banaszkiewicz-Bryła plays a copy of a harpsichord by François Blanchet of 1730, which turns out to be a good choice, although the performance on an English instrument (or a spinet) would be quite interesting. The performances are excellent, and stands out for the clarity of the musical fabric, thanks to the playing but also the recording.

The next composer is Richard Jones (?-1744) [2], who was a violinst by profession. He was mainly active in the world of the music theatre: around 1730 he became leader of the orchestra of the Drury Lane theatre. He also wrote music for theatrical performances. He must have been a brilliant violist, witness his Cahmber Air's, Op. 2 (c1735). They show that he was an independent mind; some of these pieces are quite bizarre.

His Suites or Setts of Lessons for harpsichord or spinet also attest to his independence. They are of different length: from six to twelve movements. Four open with a prelude of an improvisatory character; the prelude of the Suite III includes a fugal episode. Although Jones uses the form of the suite, his suites have nothing of the regularity of the suites that were written at the continent. Several suites include two of the same dances: the Suite II, for instance, has two gigas, the Suite V two sarabandas. Some include pieces one would not expect in a suite, such as two toccatas in the Suite I. Apart from dances, there are pieces with Italian tempo indications, such as largo and allegro. The spelling of the titles is often unusual: paspié (passepied), toccatta, borée (bourrée). The Suite VI is different from the others. Not only is it the longest (twelve pieces), it is also the only one which includes pieces with English titles: brisk air, slow air. It also has typically English movements: Scotch air (attesting to the popularity of Scottish folk music at the time), honpipe and march.

By all accounts Jones' suites are unusual, but exactly that is part of their attraction. As far as I know this is the second complete recording, and it is a very good one. Fernando De Luca understands their character and realizes what it means to show their full potential. This is extraverted music, and he rightly plays these suites with much aplomb. I would not advise to listen to all six suites at a stretch, also because of their length. But anyone who likes harpsichord music should have these suites in his collection. There is certainly no dull moment in them. De Luca plays the copy of a French harpsichord of 1691. The temperament is not mentioned, but the harmonic pecularities - and there are quite some - come off to good effect.

The least-known composer in this review is Elizabeth Turner (?-1756) [3], the only one who has no entry in New Grove and one of only two female composers from England of her time (as far as we know). The other one is Elisabetta de Gambarini, who also published keyboard music. She is better known, but we still don't have a stylistically appropriate recording of her keyboard music (in a recent recording it is performed on a Steinway). Both made a career as singers, but apparently Turner died before she could explore her full potential as a performer and a composer (the year of her birth is not known). She published two collections of music: the first of 1750 included twelve songs with instrumental accompaniment, the second of 1756 contained also (19) songs as well as six Lessons for harpsichord.

The names who subscribed to both collections (or one of them) attest to Turner's status: among them we find such prominent composers as Handel, Greene and Stanley. That is all the more telling as around that time many such pieces were published. These were mostly intended for students or advanced amateurs, and that also goes for the six Lessons by Turner. Some of their features are known from other works of the time, such as the inclusion of Alberti basses, and influences of folk music, especially that from Scotland. Other elements are movements which consist of a theme with variations, and the inclusion of menuets. The latter is a hallmark of the galant idiom, as is the fact that these pieces are mostly in two parts. These pieces are certainly not of the level that will make the headlines, but they are well worth listening to, especially when they are performed with so much energy and commitment, and as much differentiation as possible as here by Costanza Leuzzi, who plays the copy of a Pascal Taskin harpsichord. It is a fine instrument, but I would have liked an English harpsichord, which would have lent this recording a stronger amount of 'authenticity'.

At the end of this review we turn to John Stanley (1712-1786) [4], who is undoubtedly the best-known of the four composers. That is mostly due to the fact that his voluntaries are quite popular among organists. At the age of two he became blind due to an accident at home, but this did not prevent him from developing into one of England's most prominent organists. The popularity of his voluntaries among today's organists is not a new phenomenon: his playing attracted many colleagues, among them Handel. Stanley was also an excellent violinist, and in 1729 he became the youngest person to gain a BMus degree from Oxford University.

Stanley's extant oeuvre is not very large, but varied, and includes sacred and secular vocal music as well as instrumental works. His voluntaries are his best-known works. The term voluntary is used for a piece in free style for keyboard; it was used for the first time in the late 16th century. Stanley published three volumes of voluntaries between 1748 and 1754, but they may have been written in the 1720s and 1730s. Most of them are in two movements: slow - fast. A few are in three or four movements. Several movements are fugal; each set closes with two (Op. 5 and 7) or four (Op. 6) pairs of prelude and fugue. Most (fast) movements feature a solo stop.

As far as I know, Pietro Delle Chiaie is the first who recorded all three sets complete, which is of major importance. Some pieces are very well-known (for instance No. 1 from Op. 5, and Nos. 2 and 5 from Op. 6), but most others are not. They deserve to be better-known, and this recording serves that purpose rather well. Delle Chiaie delivers excellent performances, but whether the organ is the most appropriate instrument is questionable. It was built in 1999 in Italian style, which is different from English organs of the time, of which unfortunately only a few specimens have been preserved in playable condition. Therefore it is to be hoped that at some time we may see a recording on such an instrument. In the meantime, this release is one not to be missed by lovers of organ music of the 18th century.

[1] John (Jean-Baptiste) Loeillet: "Six Suits for the Harpsichord"
Maria Banaszkiewicz-Bryła, harpsichord
Prelude Classics PCL2400701 (© 2024) details

[2] Richard Jones: Suits of Sets of Lessons
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Da Vinci Classics C00986 (© 2025) details

[3] Elizabeth Turner: Six Lessons for the Harpsichord
Costanza Leuzzi, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 97319 (© 2025) details

John Stanley: "Voluntaries Op. 5-7"
Pietro Delle Chiaie, organ
Brilliant Classics 97230 (© 2025) details

French keyboard music of the rococo

The Italian harpsichordist Fernando De Luca likes to leave the trodden paths. In the course of his career he has frequently explored unknown harpsichord repertoire from the 18th century. In recent years he has been making recordings for Brilliant Classics. Since 2006 De Luca has made available private recordings of a wide range of repertoire at El Sala del Cembalo. It seems that some of the recordings released by Brilliant Classics were first published on that site, where they have been removed. This way they become available for a wider audience and in a better sound quality (the website offers recordings only in mp3). In 2021 this label released his complete recording of the harpsichord oeuvre of Christoph Graupner, which was followed by recordings of the harpsichord works by Charles Moyreau and Charles-Alexandre Jollage respectively. The latest recordings, which are the subject of this review, are again devoted to little-known French masters of generations after François Couperin. He can be considered the first main representative of what is known as the rococo, which is basically a pejorative term, originating from the late 18th century. The style is close to what is known as the galant style, which conquered most of Europe from the 1730s onwards.

Pierre-Claude Foucquet (1694-1772) [1] was born into a musical family. In New Grove we learn that it was a family of organists, whose members occupied the post of organist at St Eustache in Paris from 1681 to 1783. He himself obtained this post in 1712, and in 1758 he was appointed organist of the royal chapel, as successor to François Dagincourt, and in 1761 he became organist for the fourth quarter of the year at Notre Dame, where his colleagues were Louis-Claude Daquin, Claude-Bénigne Balbastre and Armand-Louis Couperin. As these were all prestigious masters of the organ, Foucquet must have been a man of repute, but today he is nearly forgotten. As far as I know, none of his harpsichord works has been recorded before.

Apart from a single minuet which was included in a German collection published in Berlin in 1763, his complete output was published in three books between 1749 and 1754. The first book includes a preface, a method of learning the keyboard in one lesson, tables of ornaments and scale fingerings. What is notable in all three books is the fact that nearly every piece is either a character piece or a piece of a descriptive nature, and that Foucquet frequently uses the form of the rondeau, which was very popular in France in his time.

As is so often the case, it is mostly impossible to interpret the character pieces. The first book is a suite of connected pieces with the collective title Les Caractères de la Paix. It is a kind of battle scene, which opens with a march, followed by a fanfare, including a depiction of the roaring of cannons. The closing sections are Les Ris and Les Jeux, which may refer to the celebrations after the victory. The second book opens with a march, called Marche des Pèlerins de Cythère. This may well refer to a painting by Jean-Antoine Watteau, Le Pèlerinage à l'île de Cythère. "The painting portrays a "fête galante"; an amorous celebration or party enjoyed by the aristocracy of France after the death of Louis XIV, which is generally seen as a period of dissipation and pleasure, and peace, after the sombre last years of the previous reign." (Wikipedia) In the third book we find some pieces which reflect the idealization of the countryside, a feature of 18th-century France.

In the second production we meet Pierre Thomas Dufour (c1721-1786) [2], who does not have an entry in New Grove. Very little is known about him. Like many French composers of harpsichord music, he was active as an organist: the printed edition of his harpsichord works, dating from around 1770, describes him as organist of the churches Saint-Jean-en-Grève and Saint-Laurent in Paris. The booklet mentions c1750 as the date these pieces have been written.

The book comprises 33 dances and character pieces (32 in the recording, as De Luca plays two of them as one), two concertos and a single piece with the title Carillon. They are divided into groups according to key, but that is ignored in the track-list. The book opens appropriately with a prélude. In the 18th century the higher echelons of society, especially in France, idealized 'natural life' at the countryside. Two instruments were associated with it: the musette and the hurdy-gurdy (vielle). Not surprisingly, Dufour included two pieces referring to them; for the performance De Luca uses the buff stop. Full chords are to be expected in air en choeur as well as in La Majestueuse. De Luca does not make an attempt to explain the titles, so one has to use one's own imagination. One of them is Gigue - Suitte de la Chasse (the original edition includes a separate piece, called La Chasse). The runs may be an illustration of the hunt; there is a sudden descending figure which could be interpreted as the falling of the prey. And then we have Les Matelots, meaning "sailors". It includes a passage with octave jumps the right hand, resulting in a sequence of high notes. Could that be a depiction of a ship's bell? The left hand plays Alberti basses, a feature of music in the galant idiom. Badine means "riding whip"; this piece includes a fast legato episode, which may depict a gallop. Notable is the very free treatment of the dance rhythm in the petitte sarabande.

In the first half of the 18th century the Italian style had grown in popularity. In the oeuvre of Moyreau we encountered several pieces entitled concerto, and in Dufour's oeuvre we find also two, both in three movements. The two middle movements are rondeaus; like Foucquet, Dufour uses it frequently: apart from these two, twelve pieces are in rondeau form (again, not indicated in the track-list). The Carillon, which closes the book, is another specimen of a popular genre at the time.

Jean-Jacques Beauvarlet-Charpentier (1734-1794) [3] enjoys a certain reputation among organists and lovers of organ music. He was active as organist in Lyon and also played the organ at the Concert Spirituel in Paris. Organ pieces by him have been recorded and are included in organ recitals and recorded anthologies. He has also left some instrumental music, especially pieces for harpsichord and violin. His Livre de Pièces de Clavecin was published around 1770, but has remained largely unknown. In the work-list in New Grove it is not even mentioned.

"Towards the end of his stay in Lyons the programmes grew increasingly trivial, and Jean-Jacques played chiefly comic-opera tunes and overtures", writes New Grove, and those who know something about organists and composers of organ music in 18th-century France may now immediately think of one of his contemporaries, Claude-Bénigne Balbastre. He did the same, and his harpsichord music - which is far better-known than Beauvarlet-Charpentier's - is often considered a token of the demise of keyboard music in France in the second half of the 18th century. Some of his harpsichord works are rather trivial indeed, and that also goes for the pieces by Beauvarlet-Charpentier.

The book includes sixteen pieces; all but one have titles, which seem to refer to personalities, concrete or imaginary, like La Cécile and La Suzanne, but also La Redmond, La Bressol and La Motet. One won't find any of the titles in a dictionary. The exception is a pair of minuets. Eleven of the pieces have a tempo indication: nine are marked allegro, one presto and one andante. "[A] salient feature of this music is the use of textures and progressions typical of orchestral writing", Fernando De Luca writes in his liner-notes. As a result many pieces are quite noisy, and full of effects. It is fair to say that subtlety is not one of the features of Beauvarlet-Charpentier's harpsichord music. The pieces that - as far as I am concerned - are the most enjoyable are those that have the addition aria: La Siran and La Bressol. Given the nature of the book as a whole, one won't probably be surprised that the last piece, La Delarouë, is marked La Chasse.

Those who don't appreciate Balbastre, do better to stay away from this recording. Those who do enjoy his oeuvre may also like these pieces by Beauvarlet-Charpentier. And for those who are interested in the development of keyboard music in France this release is certainly one to investigate, as it is such a perfect illustration of what indeed may be considered the demise of the French harpsichord school.

A sceptical reader may think that music that seemingly never has attracted the attention of today's performers must be of mediocre quality. That is questionable. History is not always fair, and too many performers confine themselves to the standard repertoire. Fortunately, there are artists who look beyond the obvious, and Fernando De Luca is one of them. We should be thankful for him and performers like him. Obviously, the appreciation of music is partly a matter of taste. I certainly was not enthusiastic about every piece by the above-mentioned Moyreau. Overall I rate the music of Fouquet and Dufour higher than his. I am less enthusiastic about Beauvarlet-Charpentier: like the oeuvre of Balbastre, it moves between good and trivial.

De Luca does not give much away about his assessment of the music he has recorded. I don't know if he sometimes decides to ignore certain repertoire because a lack of quality, and in his liner-notes he quotes the rather negative assessment of Beauvarlet-Charpentier's organ music in New Grove without comment. It seems to me that it is a good thing that he just brings this repertoire to the attention of lovers of keyboard music. Let them judge for themselves. From a historical point of view these recordings are certainly interesting: they give the listener a good insight into the development of French keyboard music in the course of the 18th century, and De Luca is the perfect advocate of these composers. In these recordings he shows his great skills, both technically and stylistically. He does more than just play the notes; his performances are imaginative, for instance in the addition of ornamentation, and he is not afraid to display the eccentricities. At the same time, the lyrical pieces also come off very nicely. If there are some dull moments in these recordings, that is not his fault.

With Jean-Baptiste Parant (c1730-c1780) [4] we meet another unknown quantity: he has no entry in New Grove, and very little is known about him. Like the composers discussed so far, he was active as organist. It seems very likely that he was blind, as he was organist at the Quinze-Vingts, a hospital established by Louis IX in Paris in the mid-13th century with beds for 300 of the city's needy blind. "Those members of the community who had rudiments of music were assigned to play the church organ", we read in the booklet; Parant was likely the resident who in 1760 applied for the post. His Premier Livre de Pièces de Clavecin, published in Paris around 1762, was dedicated to Louise Angélique d'Harcourt, daughter of the fourth duke of the Harcourt dynasty and later to become the mother superior at the Convent of the Visitation in Bayeux. Several of the 16 pieces in the book refer to her, such as thr first, La d'Harcourt.

With this collection of pieces we take a step back, so to speak, not so much chronologically, but stylistically, coming from Beauvarlet-Charpentier. The effects we find in the latter's oeuvre (and that of Balbastre) are not entirely absent here; especially the last two, La De Beuvron and La Lionoise, include some percussionistic effects that would not be out of place in the oeuvre of the two just mentioned, but overall Parant's music is closer to that of Fouquet and Dufour. Given the popularity of the form of the rondeau it does not surprise that Parant uses it frequently. Character pieces are dominating, but there are also four dances: three minuets and a pair of gavottes.

Given the nature and the quality of this book it is surprising that it has never been recorded before. Fernando De Luca did record it, and one can find the entire book on his site, but it is the Spanish harpsichordist Eva del Campo who recorded it for Brilliant Classics. She delivers a very good and enjoyable performance, with nice ornamentation and a good use of the various registration options of her harpsichord, a copy of a Ruckers in a ravalement of Taskin. This is an excellent addition to the impressive collection of harpsichord recordings released by Brilliant Classics.

[1] Pierre-Claude Foucquet: Pièces de clavecin
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96772 (© 2024) details

[2] Pierre Thomas Dufour: Pièces de clavecin
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96771 (© 2024) details

[3] Jean-Jacques Beauvarlet-Charpentier: 1er livre de Pièces de Clavecin
Fernando De Luca, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96774 (© 2024) details

[4] Jean Baptiste Parant: Premier Livre de Pièces de Clavecin
Eva del Campo, harpsichord
Brilliant Classics 96854 (© 2024) details