Eleonor Bindman Recordings

J.S. Bach’s music has always been subject to a kaleidoscopic variety of permutations, starting in the 1700s with his own frequent re-instrumentations of the same pieces. The 19th and early 20th centuries saw Liszt, Busoni, Siloti and Rachmaninov employing the new capabilities of the piano to create and perform their virtuosic transcriptions and paraphrases. In the swinging 1960s, The Swingle Singers, Jacques Loussier and Wendy Carlos expanded Bach’s sphere of influence into the domains of jazz and electronic music. Purists like Wanda Landowska, renegades like Glenn Gould, and thousands of other musicians found his works equally inspiring of awe and play, of homage and recreation. Arnold Schoenberg called Bach “the first 12-tone composer” referring to the conceptual nature and the visionary quality of his music. Rosalyn Tureck played Bach on the harpsichord, clavichord, piano, the Moog and the theremin, asserting that his music is defined primarily by the principle of organization, not by a particular sonority or instrument. Indeed, Bach’s output is a paragon of Absolute music: compositions that represent nothing but music itself, disconnected from any extraneous “program” or idea. Even his sacred choral works wield their power over the listener not through the devotional context but through the synergy of melodic and rhythmic patterns, simultaneously engaging our emotions, minds and spirits beyond any graspable meaning. He crafts building blocks of a few interrelated pitches into melodic fragments, then extends them horizontally, layers vertically and juxtaposes polyphonically. These patterns merge into ever-shifting sonic energy fields, gateways into immaterial dimensions of the abstract, the Absolute. They have been traveling through time and space for over 300 years without losing their charge. Transcriptions can revive interest in original compositions, and I am hoping that a piano version of Bach’s Suites BWV 996, 997, and 998 will increase their popularity. There is no consensus as to exactly what instrument each suite was designated for, but the choices narrow down to either the lute or the lute-harpsichord, an instrument then known as “lautenwerck.” Existing autographs and manuscripts are mostly in staff notation with a few lute tablatures since only professional lute players could produce those. Recorded versions are usually titled “lute suites” and performed either by guitarists, lutenists, or harpsichordists. Just like Bach’s other solo collections, these suites present a technical and musical tour de force for their performers and deserve their rightful place alongside Bach’s suites for keyboard, violin, and cello. Suite in E minor BWV 996 closely resembles Bach’s keyboard suites in structure and texture and therefore was most likely written for the lautenwerck, not the lute. Bach assigns plenty of 16th notes and consistent counterpoint to the low voice, resulting in a rich texture which can only be ploddingly rendered on the baroque lute. The introductory movement is in two parts: Passaggio and Presto. The Passaggio combines Recitative and French Overture elements, punctuating improvisatory solo passages with dramatic chords in dotted rhythms. After a rest, new phrases occur in the same fashion and modulate until the last stretch of dotted chords ends on the dominant, setting up the Presto, a vivacious fughetta in 3/8 time. In this piano version, I added a few notes in the bass in measures 42-44, resulting in a full iteration of the subject and a smoother transition from two to four voices. Allemande is the first of five traditional suite dances in BWV 996. Like most of J.S. Bach’s keyboard Allemandes, it is a tender story, a meditative palate cleanser between the dynamic Presto and lively Courante. I take advantage of the piano’s acoustical features here, as I do throughout this recording, prolonging some notes to expand implied counterpoint into a fuller, more imitative texture. The Courante’s faster pace and florid ornamentation also benefited from the piano’s capabilities. My rendition of this movement, with added runs and more density in the bass during repeats, results in a viscerally gratifying and virtuosic reading. The melancholic Sarabande sustains its introverted mood through many unexpected modulations and a prolonged middle section in B minor, Bach’s most tragic key. It is followed by the wonderful Bourrée, so beloved by guitarists. Transcribing Bach’s “greatest hits” such as this one is always daunting because the choice narrows down to being predictable (read: boring) or unpredictable (read: objectionable). Fortunately, the tradition of repeating Baroque dance movements allows for both, so to create a fun repeat I took a cue from Bach’s own treatment of the basic unit: a three-note (short, short, long) pattern which he uses incessantly in the upper voice. The long notes occur on every strong beat and have to be deliberately understated, creating a rhythmically ambiguous feel. In the last phrase, Bach juxtaposes the same syncopated pattern in the lower voice a beat later, clearly affirming that he was playing with rhythm all along. Compelled to join in the fun, I decided to repeat each section using a jazzy “walking bass” in the left hand. The energetic Gigue is our final clue that this suite was meant for the keyboard, its highly contrapuntal texture unplayable on the lute faster than Moderato. To invigorate this closing movement, I add octaves in the left hand for the repeats, imitating the double-stop effect of a baroque keyboard. Suite in C Minor BWV 997 is traced to disparate versions, including a manuscript endorsed by C.P.E. Bach as “fur Clavier” and a copy of movements one, three and four in French tablature titled “Partita al Liuto.” Other than in the Fugue and a few “echoes” in the Sarabande, the lower part consists of single bass notes, making it equally suitable for a fretted or a keyboard instrument. The spirited Prelude opens with three exact repetitions of an upward sweep in C minor, establishing a no-nonsense attitude and verve reminiscent of the start of the D minor harpsichord concerto. It’s written in ritornello form, with prominent syncopations and unyielding drive, except for two fermatas on the D7 chord (secondary dominant) and the G major chord (dominant) which imply a break for improvisation. My recorded cadenza is built on previous material and includes an open-ended anticipation of the next movement. The dramatic Fugue features a wonderful subject of a five-note ascent from tonic to dominant followed by a five-note chromatic ascent continuing through the octave to the upper tonic. The chromaticism creates enduring tension which Bach skillfully dissipates through playful episodes based on the interval of a fourth and a lower mordent. It is an unusual da capo fugue structure featuring a beautiful B section with a textural layer of constant 16th notes typical in baroque lute parts, followed by a verbatim return of section A. The Sarabande bears a strong motivic resemblance to the final chorus of St. Matthew’s Passion. Each section starts with stately eight measures of rich orchestral texture which are balanced by eight measures of running 16th notes accompanied by single bass notes. The Gigue and Double of this suite are often presented as a single movement since the Double is always a variation of the preceding dance. I chose to record them as separate movements, repeating each one. Here, the upper voice of the Double presents an embellished version of the Gigue in shorter notes (16ths or semiquavers) and the lower voice changes registers and sometimes participates in the upper voice’s passagework. Going a step further, I “doubled down” on the Double, using passages of 32nd notes (demisemiquavers) to embellish the repeats. Prelude, Fugue, and Allegro BWV 998 is the only set on this recording with an authenticated autograph, the front page of which reads “Prelude pour la Luth. ò Cembal, par J. S. Bach.” This unusual three-movement set in “celestial” Eb major with its key signature of three flats is believed to suggest a theological message of the trinity. Indeed, the remarkable Prelude is a treasure trove of structural and melodic references to the number three. It opens with a three-measure statement of triplets (the time signature is 12/8) over three E-flats repeated in the bass. In this piano arrangement, I opted for an Eb octave held for all three measures since that reflects Bach’s conception but could not be realized on either a lute or a harpsichord. As unusual as a three-measure unit is, Bach underscored this quaint structure further by writing connective material of three, two, or a combined five measures in length. Melodically, each measure of the main statement begins with a three-note lower mordent pattern (EbDEb, BbAbBb, GFG) outlining a downward inversion of a triad (Eb – Bb – G). Bach uses this three-note shape in almost every measure throughout the Prelude, shifting its placement, outlining more triads, repeating it twice or three times on the same note and steadily increasing its occurrence.  This demonstrates a most striking example of the composer going through extreme efforts to emphasize a structural element. Between measures 39 and 40, the “Neapolitan” Fb major chord passing into an inversion of an F7 chord sounds so disjointed and inconsistent with the rest of the piece that I added three extra measures for a smoother harmonic transition, an improvisatory solution justified by the fermata. The BWV 998 Fugue is, like its sister from Suite BWV 997, a grandiose da capo construction but because of the difference between C minor and Eb major, it’s not as intense and is more majestic. Here, the subject is a stately succession of eight quarter notes (crotchets) which starts from the Eb-D-Eb grouping of the Prelude and ends on Eb, within a range of only a fifth. The countersubject is laid out in eighth notes (quavers) and similarly lacks specific direction, so my preferred interpretation is one of tranquility, almost detachment, just allowing every line and turn of the architecture to unfold and settle on its pillars. The middle section here, just like in BWV 997, is enveloped by flowing 16th notes (semiquavers), an enhancement further transporting us into greater equanimity, as if receiving divine grace coming down from the Absolute. Bach artfully weaves the return of the subject into the last undulating passages of the middle section (mm 75-77) for a beautifully seamless da capo transition. This is decidedly the most sublime fugue I have ever played; experiencing it is akin to meditating. At the conclusion, one’s spirit is refreshed, exactly what Bach referred to as “the final end of all music” in his famous quote. Completing the BWV 998 trifecta, the Allegro in 3/8 time ended up being the most pianistically daunting of all the movements on this album for me. Despite the simplicity of the material, the right-hand perpetuum mobile lies so awkwardly on the keyboard that I suspect it was intended for the lute after all. The knotty and unusual hand positions strain the forearm so consistently that even practicing it at a slower tempo needs to be judiciously budgeted to avoid a case of “BWV 998 tennis elbow.”  Be that as it may, finally mastering this movement will certainly result in a jubilant mood which the music is meant to convey. The text of “Betrachte, meine Seele” invites our souls to contemplate their highest good as symbolized by the suffering of Jesus. This bass arioso from St. John’s Passion is originally scored to be accompanied by low strings, lute and organ continuo. The close proximity of the vocal bass range to the instrumental registers made adapting this work for solo piano quite challenging. Nevertheless, it sounds quite pianistic, the harmonic lute accompaniment creating a luxurious “romantic” feel. Since the arioso is very short, I took the liberty of repeating it in a higher register, as any pianist would naturally prefer to have the melody in the right hand. I am grateful to Stuart Arlott for suggesting this gem as a possible arrangement and hope that you will enjoy it as a final offering of this recording. ABSOLUTE is dedicated to the memory of Lillian Firestone. Eleonor Bindman

“The process of adapting music from one instrument to another, via transcription, is an art unto itself.… Eleanor Bindman expresses the hope that in presenting these versions of Bach’s music, her intentions and efforts will revive a broader interest in the music.… In transcribing music from the lute to piano there are aesthetic, artistic, and technical considerations facing the musician; Bindman caters well for all.… the tempo and voice clarity of the Allegro from BWV 998 are unmatched by plucked instrument players. How would Bach feel about these new versions of his music: all things considered, probably fairly chuffed.… There is no question that adaptation and transcription of original music can enhance and augment the appreciation of the original composition. … The present recording deserves serious consideration and audition. Listeners will not be disappointed.” — Zane Turner, MusicWeb International “Eleonor’s new recording of the Lute Suites brings a fresh perspective on these rarely explored masterpieces, showcasing their intricate structures, rich textures, and emotive character on the modern piano.… Highlights include BWV 997 and 998, featuring stunning fugues with ornate middle sections unlike typical keyboard fugues, and a heartfelt arrangement of “Betrachte, meine Seele” from St. John’s Passion, which serves as a moving conclusion to the album.” —Frances Wilson, Interlude HK  

For many the music of J.S. Bach represents the final flowering of late Baroque style. His vast output of church music uses traditional contrapuntal writing with its horizontal construction featuring independent musical lines. However, his secular works do adopt more modern Italian-style characteristics with simple melody and accompaniment. Even here though there is still a strong contrapuntal flavour. Bach’s final 27 years were spent as Thomaskantor, directing the music for four Leipzig churches. However, immediately prior, from 1717 to 1723, his appointment as Kapellmeister for the Prince of Anhalt-Köthen saw him produce a significant output of secular keyboard and orchestral music. It is unsurprising therefore that later writers attributed Bach’s four Orchestral Suites to the Köthen period. However, more recent scholarship has pointed towards at least revision work and probably also composition itself involving the Orchestral Suites taking place during Bach’s Leipzig years. Bach’s music, traditional in its day was viewed as rather old fashioned after his death and it was not until the historical movement of the early 19th century led by composers such as Mendelssohn that Bach’s large choral masterpieces including the Mass in B minor and the St Matthew Passion became more generally known, appreciated and even revered. Many of Bach’s autograph manuscripts were lost after his death in 1750. Opinions differ on why only four Orchestral Suites survive, for the form was immensely popular during his lifetime and it is likely he wrote more. It seems the four Suites attained their final form during Bach’s Leipzig years although earlier versions may have existed. For example, there is stylistic evidence to suggest Orchestral Suite No. 1 in C major, BWV 1066 may have been the first composed of the four, at Köthen, although its surviving set of parts are in the hand of Bach’s main copyist Christian Gottlob Meissner and date from later, 1724–25, during Bach’s early Leipzig years. Distinguished Bach scholar Christoph Wolff places Suite No. 1 in C major before 1725, Suite No. 4 in D major around 1725, with a later version 1729–41, Suite 3 in D major around 1731 and Suite 2 in B minor between 1738–39. Significantly, Bach directed Leipzig’s Collegium Musicum for some years after 1729. This was a performance society with many student members which often met at Gottfried Zimmermann’s coffee house for performances of secular works. It would have provided Bach with a welcome alternative to his church music duties. For today’s listener it is intriguing to conjure a scenario where the composer of rather serious church music in Leipzig takes opportunities to perform lighter dance pieces with his Collegium ensemble, some drawn from his earlier years as a court composer and others perhaps written or revised for the occasion. All four Orchestral Suites are scored for strings, together with a variety of wind instruments about which there is some doubt concerning Bach’s original intentions. For example, cogent arguments exist against the traditional use of brass and timpani in Suites Nos. 3 and 4. It is clear Bach worked hard to merge the French and Italian styles of his time. The Suites feature a potpourri of different dances – only Ouverture and Bourée movements appear in all four – and they feature a creative use of solo sections throughout. Bach predominately employs the two-part (binary) form of his day in the dance movements with characteristic dotted rhythms and fugal writing as established by Lully in the Ouverture movements. Current historically informed performance practice is felt to better reflect the original Baroque playing manner than was routine in the 19th century. In this spirit Eleonor Bindman’s piano duet arrangements of the four Orchestral Suites allow for a clearer, more balanced tonal result than can be obtained from Max Reger’s piano duet version of 1907, hitherto the only well-known duet arrangement in print. In particular Reger attempts to include as many notes from Bach’s orchestral scores as possible, generally giving the primo duet part the lion’s share and leaving the secondo player only the remaining relatively simple bass lines, often doubled for added sonority. Bindman redistributes Bach’s notes more evenly between both players, sometimes relocating important counterpoint to allow the secondo player to take these notes without colliding with the higher primo part. In turn, this balances the overall piano sonorities more evenly across its whole range. Furthermore, the piano writing becomes simpler to perform, allowing for more stylish and elegant outcomes. ORCHESTRAL SUITE NO. 1 IN C MAJOR, BWV 1066 I. Ouverture This regal and spacious movement assumes a slight hauteur. The characteristic dotted rhythms in the slow first section lead directly into a sprightly, sophisticated fugal section typical of Lully’s Ouvertures. The slower dotted rhythms return to complete the movement with satisfying elevation. II. Courante. III. Gavotte I – II The Courante employs a slow three-in-a-bar beat giving ample space for profuse decoration while the Gavottes provide a rather more energetic two- in-a bar. IV. Forlane. V. Menuet I – II With each bar containing ebullient constant quaver movement in the inner parts, the Forlane exudes quiet energy while the very polished, stately Menuets are more restrained. VI. Bourrée I – II. VII. Passepied Even more energetic, the Bourrées’ two-in-a-bar are fleet and insistent. The final Passepied is more grounded giving a strong sense of closure and good spirits. ORCHESTRAL SUITE NO. 2 IN B MINOR, BWV 1067 I. Ouverture The arresting mood of the opening dotted rhythms builds on the B minor sonority and the subsequent busy fugal writing is infused with rhythmic complexities. This is all a far cry from the more traditional French manner of the Suite No. 1 Ouverture. II. Rondeau. III. Sarabande Energy levels reduce as the Rondeau, with its prominent up-beat and gentle swooping melody is followed by an almost reminiscent, slow and lovingly crafted Sarabande. IV. Bourrée I – II There is repressed excitement in the quicker beat of these two dances, but the music is nevertheless solidly grounded. Bourrée II features solo flute decoration before Bourrée I returns. V. Polonaise – Double. VI. Menuet The steady quaver tread of the Polonaise is balanced by flute solo decorations in the Double. The Polonaise then returns. The following Menuet adopts a similar three-in-a-bar and complements the previous Polonaise in mood. VII. Badinerie This famous movement, featuring flute solo virtuosity, combines drama and joyful ebullience in equal measure. ORCHESTRAL SUITE NO. 3 IN D MAJOR, BWV 1068 I. Ouverture This thoroughly joyful movement resonates with good humour. The fugal section, interspersed with solo episodes, scampers crisply with high spirits. The dotted rhythms of the opening French Ouverture style then return briefly. II. Air Popularised by 20th-century violin virtuoso Mischa Elman as Air for the G String, Bach’s orchestral original floats more serenely with less intensity, a testament to his genius. III. Gavotte I – II Another famous movement, the Gavottes bristle with melodic brilliance and drive. Gavotte I returns to close off the movement’s ABA form. IV. Bourrée. V. Gigue The Bourrée relies on its very marked rhythmic motifs for propulsion, while the following Gigue picks up the momentum in a rollicking 6/8 time that builds excitement for a rousing conclusion. ORCHESTRAL SUITE NO. 4 IN D MAJOR, BWV 1069 I. Ouverture Harmonic richness dominates the opening dotted rhythm section in the grand manner. A very expansive fugal section follows, marked by 6/8 time jollity and permeated by woodwind solo sections. The slower opening material returns to conclude with regal gravitas. II. Bourrée I – II. III. Gavotte Less emphatic than the Bourrée of Suite No. 3, these Bourrées have a certain neatness and formality. Bouree II is characterised by a rolling bassoon part in quavers throughout. Formality is retained in the following Gavotte, with its ornamental coruscations easily accommodated within a stately beat. IV. Menuet I – II. V. Réjouissance A cadential feeling infuses both Menuets, giving a suitably conclusive mood at this late stage in the Suite. Menuet I returns to round out the overall ABA form. The final Réjouissance bustles in a good-natured manner with a fast, marked three-in-a-bar. Listen for the brief humorous cadential surprises near the end. —Rodney Smith

“If I were half of a piano duo, I would want to play these transcriptions with my partner.… They retain many of the qualities of Bach’s originals—the grandeur, the balanced grace, the songfulness, and the zest… There is nothing here that I did not enjoy. …transcriptions such as these help me to see the skeleton that supports the rest of the orchestral body. More than that, however, they are fun, and they celebrate the joy of amateur music-making, even though the performers on this CD are professionals of the first rank.” —Raymond Tuttle, Fanfare

J.S. Bach is quoted to have said: “All you have to do is to strike the right keys at the right time and the music will play itself.” This statement needs to be understood in historical context. Whoever was “striking the keys” 300 years ago was likely to be a professional, often born into a family of musicians like Bach himself and educated in the art of counterpoint and harmony – the meaning of music. Nowadays, keyboards are played by all kinds of people. Telling the difference between the right and the wrong keys is usually not a problem but playing at the “right time” is more difficult, especially if we include the tempo in our definition of “time.” Not only is individual perception of speed subjective and variable but our pace of living is exponentially faster now then it was in the 18th century. Can the details and layers of meaning in Bach’s language be duly appreciated at this new pace? That is something for us to consider. Bach published the six keyboard Partitas himself in 1731 as his “Opus 1,” clearly indicating that he was satisfied with his work. And he probably had very high standards. Were they intended to be playedasaset?Consideringtheirdifficulty and length, probably not. Besides, most of Bach’s solo instrumental cycles were primarily intended as “practice pieces.” Yet sometimes one encounters a performance of all six Partitas in recital, despite the demand this places on the audience’s attention span and keyboardist’s powers of concentration alike. I have played as many as four of them together in recital myself and even that may have been too rich an offering for many in the audience. Of course, the advent of music recording in the 20th century (would the Goldberg Variations be so immensely popular if Glenn Gould hadn’t decided to record them twice?) and of digital music streaming in the 21st century has completely changed the way people perceive music. Wrong notes are eliminated in recorded music, a practice which engenders similar expectations at concerts, raising the stakes and the nervous strain for performers. The pastime of listening to music no longer demands our exclusive attention. Current streaming trends “conveniently” split up Classical works and then assign sections to playlists for various designated lifestyle activities. We can now choose to hear just one Partita while working, two or three movements on the way to a grocery store or even stream the same dance over and over again while exercising. As technology advances, the compact disc recording format is well past its heyday, but its allotted play time still constrains our choices of grouping and interpreting longer cycles of music, as does our accepted “after dinner” live recital length. When presented in its entirety, whether recorded or played live, Bach’s “Opus 1” ends up cramped by our habitual listening mediums.… Continue Reading

“Bindman’s very special ability to breathe life into the musical events and to give every theme, every figure a shape, even a human profile, also characterizes the fast dances, which never slip into mere motor skills, but are lived through emotionally, are intelligently thought out and logically completed. In this way she lends a fascinating stringency and inner tension even to the slow-motion sarabands, directed inward, so that Bach’s deep spirituality can also be felt here, while in the fast gigue and courante movements she conveys Bach’s life energy with impressive, pedal-free precision and instantaneous drive conjures: There are timeless signals from the galaxy, and everything grooves and swings as if they were messages from today: a fascinating album.” —Attila Csampai, Rondo “what a marvelous Bach performer… The prelude from Partita 1 is deliciously slow and expressive, with unexpected marking of inner voices, beautiful ornamentation, shimmering tone.… There’s not a bad movement in the bunch, so I will list a few of my favorites: first of all, I love the thoughtful and poised allemandes; I used to think of them the same way until my harpsichord teacher Arthur Haas convinced me that the one from Partita 6 should be played like a rather quick Italian Allemanda. Maybe so, but Bindman’s slower account is pulling me back in the other direction.… The gigue from Partita 5 is likewise graceful, the interaction among the three voices beautifully controlled and radiant.” —Rob Haskins, American Record Guide “Suitably humbled by the inexhaustible greatness of Bach, I can say that…I have listened to these recordings a lot. With long stretches of music such as the complete Partitas, it helps to have a personable guide and Bindman is certainly that. … Bindman exhibits a real and suitably Baroque sense of the theatrical which makes the opening Sinfonia of this second partita a treat.… An unalloyed pleasure of this set is the lovely Bösendorfer piano used and how well it is recorded. More than that, Bindman’s recreative imagination is clearly stimulated by the different timbres possible from her piano.… The G major partita shows her qualities in the best light. A gentle pulse runs through every movement with just the right amount of formal swagger balanced with a dry, understated wit. This is the kind of recording I would play to people who think Bach too severe. It doesn’t short change his genius but illuminates it with joy and, above all, affection… More than two and half hours in Bindman’s genial company fly by most pleasurably.” —David McDade, MusicWeb International “If I had to describe these performances in a single word, that word would be “affectionate.” Bindman clearly loves this music, and she plays it caressingly, as a lover would. … I’d like to point to the aforementioned Sarabande from Partita No. 3, which, under Bindman’s fingers, becomes an absolutely hypnotizing and eloquently grave meditation on the expressive power of 16th-note triplets. This is why we listen to new recordings of music we love—to shine a light on it of which we had not previously been aware.… This release excited my admiration from the moment I started playing it, and that attention has not waned over the course of more than a week. This could be on my Want List at the end of the year.” —Raymond Tuttle, Fanfare Magazine “Eleonor Bindman's strong and assertive fingerwork complements her firmly centred rhythm… subtle momentum informs Bindman's gravitas, while…intimately unfolding conversational lightness” —Jed Distler, Gramophone “Bindman’s approach, very sensibly, is to let this amazing music speak for itself. Opting for unhurried tempi, she approaches the dance movements with poise, her playing throughout the cycle an object lesson in perfectly balanced voicing and articulation. …In my review of her last Bach recording I hailed Bindman as delivering, ‘Bach playing of the highest order.’ With these model interpretations she does so again here… these intimately recorded and musically convincing performances strike just the right balance between familiarity and revelation. A superb release.” —Andrew Eales, PianoDao “Listening to the recording, I was immediately impressed by Bindman’s relaxed tempos, and the unhurried pace of her interpretation… In Bindman’s recording, ornamentations become what they should be, an emotional emphasis of the moment. And that is certainly the case in her creative treatment of repeats, when the first sounding is simplified while the repeat presents the richly embellished original.” —Hermione Lai, Interlude “Eleonor Bindman continues to impress with every new display of her keyboard artistry. …her complete survey of the Bach Partitas, BWV 825-830, proves the clincher: [she] can do anything! …Bach’s keyboard fingerings, difficult to master on the modern piano, hold no mystery for Bindman. It is a measure of this artist’s combined scholarship and keyboard prowess that we can’t tell where the composer leaves off and the performing artist takes over. Really, this is as fine a survey of the Partitas as I’ve ever been privileged to hear. I am pleased to recommend it.” —Phil Muse, Atlanta Audio Club

The genius of J.S. Bach is recognised and revered by everyone who is musically educated. His output, studied by the greatest composers and the youngest apprentices alike, has been an inexhaustible source of inspiration, imitation and renewal. One common method of renewal is through transcription. As a matter of fact Bach himself regularly transcribed his own and other composers’ music and created different instrumental versions of the same piece. This transcribing practice has persisted and is still very much alive, as evidenced by many current recordings, including this one. Approaches can be as diverse as Bach’s body of work, depending on the form of the original composition, the designated instrumentation and the goal of the arranger. The resulting musical statement may be a faithful reproduction (my personal preference), a transformation beyond recognition or something in between. Regardless of the outcome, the original source is of such exceptional depth and appeal that for the past three centuries it attracted a steady stream of pilgrims, ready to sacrifice their time and energy for the joy of communion… Read more on the Brandenburg Duets Project page

“The Six Solo Cello Suites are some of the most celebrated and much-loved works in the classical repertoire, and they continue to fascinate and inspire performers and audiences alike. In this brand new transcription for solo piano, Eleonor Bindman pays tribute to this music’s enduring allure. … The transcription offers scope for some adventurous interpretation, particularly in the wonderfully playful pairs of Minuets, Bourrées and Gavottes. … Like the works included in her ‘Stepping Stones to Bach’, Eleonor has provided pianists with yet more repertoire to explore, and her elegantly, meticulous transcriptions shine a new light on this wonderful music while also remaining true to the original.” —Frances Wilson, The Cross-Eyed Pianist “Her skillfully wrought arrangements… [treat] the solo cello lines straight, and… you get Bach’s text served up with sensitivity and taste… Bindman’s well-considered tempos address the music’s dance origins. …her Preludes and Sarabandes sing out well” —Jed Distler, ClassicsToday “Prepare to be surprised when you listen to the new 2-CD release of Eleonor Bindman playing her piano arrangements of Bach’s Cello Suites. Ms. Bindman’s arrangements faithfully include the notes you will find in the original Bach, but have become works that are new, unique, and completely satisfying on their own terms.” Barry Lenson, Classical Archive “Quite simply (and irrespective of the particular novelty factor here) this is Bach playing of the highest order. … Listening to Bindman’s recording, I was immediately struck by the mellifluous beauty and sensitivity of her renditions of these iconic cello works; that she has transcribed them so well and plays them with such assurance, grace and finesse makes this 2CD set an easy choice for my Recording of the Month.” —Andrew Eales, Pianodao “…an ideal way for amateur pianists to explore the music in domestic surroundings. These Cello Suite transcriptions are completely different, Bindman adding sparingly to the texture of the melodic-line, a very conscious decision, having found previous arrangements only convincing her that the Suites didn’t need any ‘improvement’. … Her performances are nicely shaped, and without affectation, tempos always well chosen… The New York engineers offer an ideal clarity, and Bindman’s programme notes are highly informative.” —David Denton, David's Review Corner “Bindman maintains the majesty of Bach’s music, via both her transcription and her convincing command of the keyboard. Whether you’re a purist or a Bach devotee, this satisfying 2-CD set is worthy of a thoughtful listen.” —Sharna Searle, The Whole Note “Bach’s music is great no matter who plays it on what. Bindman takes him quite literally, transcribing in the register he wrote in, mostly, and clearly with enjoyment. Her tempos are sometimes faster than a cellist’s fingers might find practical, but her musical sense is excellent. She observes most of the written repeats” —David W Moore, American Record Guide

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUtKadlPwDY&list=PLsnj5ieX975dj8W06yLqTb0g2-oPMH7L0 My main goal was to create a transcription which highlighted the polyphony, imagining how Bach might have distributed the score if he intended to create 4-part inventions for Piano Duet. Doubling the cello/bass part in octaves, as Reger did, made no sense because it kept both hands of Secondo occupied and resulted in excessively bottom-heavy sonorities. Likewise, throwing all of the treble parts together in the Primo – violins, violas, oboes, solo french horns, flutes or trumpet plus the harpsichord - rendered the part unplayable at any decent tempo and hid the counterpoint in clusters of chords. To return to Baroque sensibilities, the individual lines had to be clear to the eye of the performer in order to be clear to the ear of listener. Since the fast movements of the Concertos usually have at least 4 voices intertwining and because more than 3 voices in polyphony become harmony in effect, some incidental parts could be omitted without any harm done to the integrity of the music. Using the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra’s “chamber” sound as a point of reference, i was able to restore the hierarchy and balance of the parts. At the same time, secondary string lines which may not be clearly audible in the orchestral version now sounded more distinctl on the keyboard. This approach helped give Bach’s magnificent texture the desired clarity for an elegant new translation. Equal partnership of the pianists was another vital need in conveying the nature of Bach’s material and it resulted naturally from the polyphonic approach discussed above. In a Concerto Grosso, the sound should be fused in the Tutti sections and divided into threads for the solos. When different instruments, such as the flute and the violin, have simultaneous solos, we have no trouble hearing two voices. On the keyboard, however, the easiest way to give the lines different expression is to assign them to different people. The Piano Duet medium presents equally effective possibilities of either blending or differentiating the sound each performer produces. In the present arrangement, Secondo is always given an opportunity to fully indulge in beautiful melodic lines and the Duet partners execute frequent hand-crossings and other logistical adjustments which go with the piano-4-hands territory and make the collaborative experience even more enjoyable. These thematic exchanges enhance the momentum of the slower movements, as in the Andante of Brandenburg Duet #1 where Secondo takes the lead in the sublime oboe and violin duet.… Read more on the Brandenburg Duets Project page Download the Booklet Notes

“What Bindman and Lin achieve as a dual partnership… is breathtaking in its sheer precision and vitality.… Created well in time before the 300th anniversary of the Brandenburg Concertos, the young talents of the piano world will now dive into what could eventually be standard repertoire for piano duos.” Donald Hunt, Pianist Magazine

“Bindman’s transcriptions have a clarity and a cleanliness that Reger’s lack, although Bindman’s and Lin’s playing no doubt also is a contributing factor.… I can’t say that I enjoyed hearing this any less than I enjoy hearing Bach’s originals. … I will be interested to see if the appearance of Bindman’s transcriptions in print will attract other musicians.… I think they can help us to hear these familiar works in new ways, and to gain a new understanding of them. For those reasons, I think they are valid, and Bindman and Lin make a great case for them.” Raymond Tuttle, Fanfare Magazine

“With an equal collaboration between the two instrumentalists, using the full potential of the modern piano, to convey the unique writing and character of each concerto, the six concertos by both pianists Eleanor Bindman and Jenny Lin were arranged ( 1-3-5-6-4-2), that they create a fascinating listening series. Because Bach’s Brandenburg Concerti were never intended to be performed as a continuous series, their order is of little importance. You should not miss this version. It is very original and very, very special. Highly recommended.” Michael Dutrieue, Stretto

“Eleonor Bindman’s new transcription of Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos highlights their polyphony, imagining how Bach might have distributed the score if he had created four-part inventions for piano duet.” Lisa Flynn, WFMT Chicago

“…pianists are going to greatly enjoy Eleonor Bindman’s new piano duo arrangement of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Six Brandenburg Concertos. … excellently recorded and immaculately balanced recordings…” David Denton

“…an interesting audible vitality of blending and differentiating voices…[Bindman] achieves a full and interesting sounding score… [The Brandenburg Duets] adds greatly to the two-piano repertoire, which thrives as a four-hand performance –no orchestra necessary.” Ilona Oltuski, GetClassical

“Eleonor Bindman's arrangement is outstanding…Bindman and Jenny Lin really lean in to this freedom, swinging when Bach allows, and never staid or boring when things get more thoughtful or academic. … Though she may have started with purely pedagogical reasons for bringing this music to four hands and a piano keyboard… Bindman and Lin are obviously having too much fun here for it to be just that. And that makes it even more pleasurable for us to listen to.” Dean Frey, Music for Several Instruments

“Eleonor Bindman has done a wonderful job for many musicians with her "Brandenburg Duets" project: a transcription of Bach's Concertos Bach for 4 hands… The result is playfully as fresh and new as authentic and convincing. Balanced in sound, perfectly attuned to each other, the version reveals new sides to these works, and the pianists equally do justice to the solos as well as the tutti with four hands, so that it would be a real pleasure for Bach. The hope is to see the transcription published by 2020 in musical form - it would be a stroke of luck for the four-hand repertoire and its lovers. A wonderful recording.” —Piano News

“I really enjoyed listening…the transcriptions are marvelous.” —Simone Dinnerstein

“Only pianists of the highest caliber could deliver these performances. Nothing I heard in these arrangements seemed out of place, and the phrasing and dynamic shaping of the lines were exceptional.… complete and very musical. It will give you a fresh look at some of Bach’s greatest works in piano arrangements that work quite well.” —James Harrington, American Record Guide

“Bindman’s transcription of Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos is a significant accomplishment. It reflects Bach’s writing more than Reger’s romanticized arrangement by preserving the interaction between the varied soloists of the original pieces and by reserving the force of the piano’s bass for interpretive impact. Bindman also achieves her goal of making both piano parts equally engaging to play. Debuting The Brandenburg Duets through this exceptional recording, rather than through a published score, not only exhibits the insightfulness of Bindman’s decisions in preparing the arrangement, but also serves as an excellent vehicle to promote this much-needed contemporary transcription.” —Krystal J. F. Grant, International Alliance for Women in Music Journal

“Do you really need a new edition of more than 1000 original compositions by Johann Sebastian Bach? Certainly - but only if it is as brilliant as Eleonor Bindman’s new transcription for four-hand piano of the famous "Brandenburg Concertos". The Latvian-American pianist has succeeded in writing a version that focuses on the polyphony of the six concertos. The result is the "Brandenburg Duets", which Bindman recorded together with pianist Jenny Lin. The recordings are as successful as the arrangements themselves. The two pianists are remarkably precise, literally melting together, yet pleasantly relaxed and with unmistakable joy in playing. The original character of the compositions remains, while at the same time they acquire new facets through the sound of the modern piano.” —Sal, Kulturnews

Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) was the first Russian composer whose works became part of the standard concert repertoire of the West. His music has always appealed to the public; it abounds in lovely, lyrical melodies, playful Russian folk tunes and vivid imagery. Although Tchaikovsky met with considerable success during his lifetime, his extremely delicate character was a constant source of internal strife; he often said that music was his only salvation from going insane. He found solace in translating the beauty of nature, as well as his turbulent emotions, into the pure language of sound. The twelve “months” of The Seasons, commissioned by a St. Petersburg musical journal, were composed between December 1875 and November 1876. According to the composer’s brother, Modeste, Tchaikovsky ordered his servant to remind him when a certain date came around each month, in order not to miss the deadline. Upon being told that it was time to “send to St. Petersburg”, he reportedly sat down at once and wrote out the required piece without a pause. This cycle is an example of program music, that is, music with an attached scenario. Tchaikovsky selected short verses, excerpted from larger works by well-known Russian poets, and used them as epigraphs for each month. The prevalent mood of these pieces seems to reflect the composer’s nature, described by Edward Grieg as “melancholic almost to the point of madness.” A loose translation of the imagery:

• January: Darkness is enveloping our peaceful corner by the fireplace. The last sparks are fading and the candle has ceased burning.
• February: Soon the feast of the winter Carnival will sweep through the village!
• March: The boundless spring sky resounds with the songs of larks.
• April: The pale blue snowdrop blossom grows out of thinning snow; a farewell to bygone tears and a welcome of new happiness.
• May: What an enchanting night! After the northern storms have gone, May comes forth its all its beauty and exhilaration.
• June: Come to the seashore, where the waves will caress our feet and the stars will glow with mysterious melancholy.
• July: A peasant reaper in the fields sings: “Swing, my arm; work, my shoulder! You, southern wind, cool my face off!”
• August: The farmer families begin their harvest, mowing down the rye at the root. The haystacks crowd the fields and the music of the cartwheels squeaks all night long.
• September: It’s time, it’s time! The horns resound, the horses are mounted at the break of dawn and the hounds tug at their leashes in anticipation.
• October: Autumn has arrived. The yellow leaves of our poor garden are flying in the wind.
• November: Do not look at the road with such longing, and don’t try to catch up with the troika. Stifle the disquiet in your heart forever!
• December: Once, on Christmas Eve, maidens would make a wish, taking off their slipper and throwing it outside the gate.

The Waltz and Polonaise from “Eugene Onegin”, often performed as orchestral concert pieces, epitomize Tchaikovsky’s facility for writing fetching dance numbers. They were written for two party scenes in the opera: young Tatiana’s birthday celebration in Act II and a ball at the house of Prince Gremin, Act III. In the plot, based on Alexander Pushkin's novel in verse, Tatiana is enamored with Eugene Onegin and writes a love letter to him, only to be rejected by the self-absorbed chap. Years later, the two protagonists meet again, during a fete at the palace of Tatiana’s wealthy husband. This time it is Onegin who declares his passion and Tatiana who sensibly cools it off. Curiously, just weeks before Tchaikovsky started working on the opera in 1877, he received a letter from a female admirer in which she implored him to marry her. The composer declined politely, but his sensitive nature was so affected after reading Pushkin’s drama that he felt obliged not to follow his heartless hero’s example. He was overcome by remorse and agreed to the marriage, which, in turn, only lasted a few weeks. This recording is dedicated to the memory of Khana Gleyzer. Recorded and mastered by Adrian Carr at Music Design Masters, NYC Recorded in February – March 2002 Piano: 1897 Steinway Concert Grand DDD

Leonard Bernstein’s Candide was originally conceived in 1953 as a “big, three-act opera with chorus and ballet.” The project took three years to complete and took on a lighter character in the process, becoming an operetta by the time of its Broadway premiere in December of 1956. The substantial score contained nearly two hours of music and was described by the composer as a “Valentine card to European music.” The overture summons up the spirit of Rossini, dances like the gavotte, the waltz, the polka and the mazurka abound, and the vocal numbers recall the Italian bel canto style. The Candide Overture is an exhilarating experience; it captures the listener immediately, rushing through successions of thundering timpani, jubilant trumpets, tireless violins, romantic cellos and self-important French horns. Bernstein fully orchestrated and premiered this popular curtain raiser in the winter of 1956-57, conducting the New York Philharmonic. This four-hand piano version was created by Charlie Harmon, and the piece loses little in “translation.” Each register of the keyboard adds a voice to the burlesque jumble of the piece, especially the upper octaves as they imitate the brisk, glittering xylophone theme. The Candide Overture has become an indispensable part of every four-hand Duo Vivace performance, serving as a perfect and much anticipated encore in case the opening is spoken for. In this triumvirate of Twentieth Century popular classics, Gustav Holst’s The Planets is most powerfully associated with large-scale orchestral sound—the breadth and variety of which is perhaps meant to evoke that of the cosmos. This seven-movement work, each representing a planet (except Earth and Pluto, not discovered until 1930), took place over the two-year period from 1914 to 1916. Given that point of history, it is difficult not to draw the conclusion that the onset of World War I influenced the opening movement, Mars, The Bringer of War, or similarly, did not inspire Venus, The Bringer of Peace, as a prayer to end the ravages of war. Indeed, other contemporary references include the dot-and-dash rhythmic patterns of Morse code telegraphed through Mercury, The Winged Messenger or the fading away of mystical, disembodied sound depicting Neptune, thought at that point to be the furthest planet from the sun. Each of the movements has its special astrological reference, which Holst took great pains to project musically. In Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity, the nature of the joviality is more universal, rather than personal in scale. Embedded between the robust, rollicking sections is a glorious hymn tune that elevates the joyousness to a higher spiritual plane. Uranus, The Magician was thought to be Holst’s reference and answer to Paul Dukas’ earlier masterpiece of 1897, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. The energy of the relentless scherzo builds to a feverish pitch before almost spinning out of control. What follows is pure magic--a timeless interlude before one more romp leads to the final crash of chords and ultimate dissipation. Saturn, The Bringer of Old Age, was reputedly Holst’s favorite, and what he considered his most successful movement. The irrevocable grinding on of time is so effectively depicted in the alternation of chords, and colors—first building up to human struggle and panic—and finally the release and acceptance that comes with old age. It is not a defeat that we hear, humans crushed by their condition. Rather, the music evokes fulfillment of transcendental sort—the sort that can only come with acceptance of the inevitable. If the popularity of this work immediately conjures up the beating of timpani or the resonance of lower brass in our mind’s ear, it is interesting to note that before the public ever heard the orchestral version, The Planets was performed in its original two-piano version. Most likely, this version was the sketch Holst drew up to aid in the orchestration of the work. However, accounts of that first performance, by Vally Lasker and Nora Day, two of Holst’s pianistic colleagues at St. Paul’s Girls’ School in West London, attest to the effectiveness and excitement generated by this version. If any medium could rival the sound of the orchestra, both in breadth and in color, it is certainly the piano. If anything could rival the scale of a LARGE orchestra, it is certainly TWO PIANOS. In this form, The Planets as a work is both familiar and completely different, mimicking the very nature of the universe. George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue is as synonymous with American music and New York City as the composer himself. One cannot escape references to this work. Whether strolling through Macy’s at Herald Square or listening to the famous United Airlines commercials, quotations from this American classic abound. Even the youngest of children have visual associations through the brilliant animation of this piece in the film “Fantasia 2000”. When the great 1920’s bandleader, Paul Whiteman, also dubbed “The King of Jazz”, asked Gershwin to compose something for the famous Aeolian Hall symphonic jazz concert of February, 1924, Gershwin was against the idea and had put the request out of his mind. A press release of the concert in the New York Herald Tribune reminded Gershwin of his obligation, and he turned out Rhapsody in Blue in three weeks. While the piece was originally composed for piano and jazz band, Ferde Grofe, the Whiteman band orchestrator tinkered with the instrumentation, scoring it as follows: 8 violins, 2 string basses, banjo, 2 trumpets, 2 trombones, 2 pianos, drum, 3 saxophones, and 2 horns. Over time, the instrumentation was changed again and adapted to full concert orchestra settings. Eventually, the popularity of the work warranted even further transcriptions—including that of solo piano, and the version heard performed here, for one piano, four hands. Clearly, the great versatility of the piano allows us to imagine all the variation in timbres—from winds and percussion, to the great Romantic melodies drawn out in the strings. Regardless of the performing medium, the originality of ideas and the sheer inspiration behind this score keep re-inventing themselves with each version—not unlike New York itself!