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Practice and Perfection Having recorded Schumann and Beethoven, pianist Mia Chung '86 has turned to Bach.

There are doubts about the origin of the Goldberg Variations. According to Bach's first biographer, the Russian ambassador to the electoral court of Saxony asked for a musical antidote for his insomnia: "some clavier pieces for [Johann Gottlieb] Goldberg, [a student of Bach's], which should be of such a smooth and somewhat lively character that [Count Keyserlingk] might be a little cheered up by them in his sleepless nights." But the variations, hardly sleep-inducing, surely require far too much virtuosity for Goldberg, who was only 14 years old. And critics say Bach would have included a dedication if so important a contact as the count had commissioned the work. Instead, the immortal music was published with the mundane title Keyboard Practice consisting of an Aria with thirty Variations for the Harpsichord with 2 Manuals Prepared for the Enjoyment of Music-Lovers.

In the liner notes for her new recording of the variations, pianist Mia Chung '86 assesses Bach's motivation as a composer: "To Bach, all music was to be a form of worship....[He] invariably assumed a humble stance when asked about his success.... Bach stated, 'I have had to work hard; anyone who works equally hard will be able to do as much.'" A committed Christian herself, Chung has stated that she also seeks to make "[e]very performance...a chance to bring God pleasure and to convey God's love to the listener...to make the listening experience transcendent." Much great art, it seems to me, is produced through the psychological balancing act that both Chung's and Bach's words reveal. The posture of chosen vessel cements the kind of egoistic daring and passivity required to make fresh music.

Whatever their loftier goals, though, pianists who play the variations must settle some practical questions of interpretation right away. For instance, while the harpsichord's two keyboards make it easier to articulate Bach's melodic lines when two or more voices share the same range of notes, the keys themselves are not touch-sensitive--striking a key harder won't produce an appreciable difference in volume. For this and many other reasons, mostly dealing with the harpsichord's sonorities, Ralph Kirkpatrick '31, editor of the best-known version of the variations, believed that "it should be universally realized that the keyboard music of Bach is not piano music, and that on the piano it must be regarded as transcription." The renowned harpsichordist meant to discourage modern-day performers from purely pianistic effects (dramatic crescendos, endless pedaling)--but taken differently, his idea can be freeing. Why bother to transcribe a piece of music, if not to use capabilities that the original instrument doesn't have? Andrew Rangell has recorded the Goldberg Variations, piling layer upon layer of sound with rich use of pedal and the chiaroscuro dynamics that Kirkpatrick disdained. And Glenn Gould himself couldn't have put down his propulsive interpretations without the sudden changes in tone that only a piano could provide.

"If there's any excuse at all for making a record," Gould once said, "it's to do it differently, to approach the work from a totally recreative point of view,...to perform [the] particular work as it has never been heard before." More mortal pianists must find a statement like this as discouraging as it is inspiring. Artistic originality isn't a simple matter of will, or of practice; if it were, everyone could issue classics like Gould's two renditions. Yet pianists continue to record, and crowds record Bach's masterpiece. At least 157 versions of the variations are on disc. (Their album covers appear on a website with the disquieting title "The GV Maniacs"--https://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~pg6y-skt/goldberg/gvmdisca.html--maintained by a Japanese who uses BWV988, the so-called GVs' catalog number, as his e-mail handle.)

Mia Chung deals with these issues gingerly. She limits her range of dynamics and concentrates on more delicate, atmospheric effects. If Gould's recordings--with their precise articulation and harsh accents--could be considered pointillistic, Chung's might be described as impressionistic. The musical filigree stays in soft focus; her tone is emotionally measured.

Some of Chung's interpretations are among the best I've heard. She plays the muttering bass of variation six so evenly and the cascading lines in its treble so wearily, it sounds like listening to a depressed friend at a cocktail party. I had no idea variation 20 could be played as wittily as hers is; and she makes the abstract, eerie melody of variation 25 actually sing.

On much of the rest of the record, though, Chung restrains herself to a fault. When I heard some of her prior recordings--which are enthralling--it was hard to believe it was the same pianist. Where was the risk-taking and fire of her Beethoven sonatas and bagatelles? It's clear Chung didn't find that style of playing appropriate for Bach; her listeners, depending on individual tastes, may find this modesty either misguided or refreshing. Overall, though, her recording has too little spontaneity, and I can't help but feel it's because Chung considers the variations, a little cheerlessly perhaps, the result of "Bach's motivation to glorify God through discipline." To her credit, Chung wanted her Goldberg Variations to be worthy of heaven. She'd probably have been more effective just playing the hell out of them.

~ Daniel Delgado

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