Øivind Farmen trekked along the concert trail with Jürgen
Sundqvist this year. If you saw the duo perform you saw a great show and
one that exhibited two consummate artists displaying the epitome of two
major traditions: the European tradition per Mogens Ellegaard and the
American tradition by the grace of Anthony Galla Rini. It was wonderful to
witness.
Of the two performers we were less familiar with Øivind in America and he
was a revelation. Where has this man been? Fortunately, he left behind
discriminating evidence that lets everyone hear that he is a major talent
— a CD produced in 1995. The recording is a selection of baroque music
played so well that even listeners who are usually unenthusiastic about
the baroque genre will be delighted. On the simplest level he has a great
instrument that was beautifully recorded — the reproduction is clean,
sweet and delivers lots of presence with none of the psycho reverb that
usually turns accordion music into a horror movie soundtrack. While the
selections were originally written for the harpsichord, Øivind's careful
attention to tonality (switches), superb articulation and bellows control
transfers them beautifully to his concert accordion (Zero Sette's B 32 C;
64 notes treble, 58 notes bass, plus a Stradella system with the last two
rows of the bass keys stepped to allow the use of the thumb).
His first act is ironically a showstopper, he plays the Aria and nine
variations from Bach's Goldberg Variations (excerpted from
thirty) giving the listener a good sense of the whole. Glenn Gould made
this work his debut recording in 1955 and astounded the world by bringing
the sheer beauty of it to our attention. Until then, musicians had
relegated the Variations (along with most of Bach's keyboard
works) to a Never Never Land of finger exercise. Not so. The
Goldberg is three-dimensional emotion when performed as it is here —
like De Niro says in Goodfellas, "You'll hear things." The
variations are built on the harmonic structure of the opening Aria and
work like baroque jazz; say, Art Van Damme plays Lady Be Good
and improvises choruses — well, Bach gave us thirty choruses on the
Goldberg Aria, which is just a hint of his genius, for according to some
he improvised greater compositions than he ever wrote down. Øivind
performs with clarity, intelligence and sensitivity. Above all, he
understands what the music is about and includes us beautifully in his
understanding, giving us playing that's simple, deep and unaffected.
Domenico Scarlatti of the famous peripatetic family of Sicilian
maestri spent the latter part of his life in Spain. While there he
primarily composed sonatas for the harpsichord (over 500) and they're
miniature masterpieces: inventive, charming, dramatic and beautiful —
plus, they were without precedence in musical history. They've since
become a part of every keyboard performer's repertoire from Mozart to
Horowitz. Øivind selects four and plays them with musical insight and
feeling. Many virtuosi I've heard fail badly with Scarlatti, perhaps
misled by the maestro's terminology in calling them esercizi, or
giving in to urges to corrupt them. Certainly, the pieces can be brilliant
and flashy, but they are just as likely to be deceptively deep. Seeing
Horowitz perform the B Minor Sonata on his return to Moscow was a
transcendent experience and indicative of what can lay beneath the
surface. Øivind's choices are solid and he meets them on their own terms
brilliantly. I prefer his interpretations to almost anyone's, because of
his integrity and the sensitive rendering of them as expressive
accordion performances. He's not being a pseudo organist or
injecting ill-informed ego into these miniatures; he's being an inspired
player who understands the music, as well as the strengths and weaknesses
of the instrument he's playing (loving the accordion for what it is), and
makes a superb artistic statement.
Händel's keyboard works are often overlooked — his Chaconne in G
Major consists of a short theme and twenty-one variations. It's not
comparable to Bach's Goldberg Variations, but it's good to hear
this side of Händel, for our Händelian experience shouldn't be just be
just one big Hallelujah all the time. Øivind makes the
Chaconne sound like 21 lively riffs that transcend time.
The Suite in G Minor (a typical baroque suite) is even better.
It anomalously has only three movements (allemande, courante,
gigue), the sarabande is missing, but the three we have
really sing and dance in Øivind's performances. Especially nice is the
melodious courante and the vibrant gigue.
Øivind has given us an interesting program and played it beautifully.
Choosing an all-baroque program and sticking to it shows artistic
integrity. Accordionists often offer disparate anthologies and
consequently come across sounding like they're auditioning the instrument
and themselves rather than reaching for the heart. Øivind offers solid
insight into these works, has something to say and expresses himself and
the music with artistry and feeling. He delivers performances both razor
sharp and expansive, capturing the emotion and meaning of the pieces
beautifully. Few accordionists attempt this kind of artistry, let alone
achieve it — most settle for dancing fingers.
Lastly, Øivind plays the accordion as an accordion, not as a
wannabe Wurlitzer, or wouldabe Steinway; he allows the
instrument to have it's own expressive voice and this recording has some
of the best and purest accordion sound I've heard.
Program: