The 20th century revival of Baroque music came about, says Harpsichordist Igor Kipnis, "for all the wrong reasons." One of the most wrong was the notion that the Baroque was a perfect antidote for the excesses of 19th century romanticism. Performers played the reborn works of the 17th and early 18th centuries in an unemotional, almost mechanical fashion. The sound seemed orderly and neatly stitched: "Sewing machine music in other words," says Kipnis. If the Baroque revival continues today with greater force than ever, the reason is that Kipnis, 44, and others like him have finally proved that the Baroque contains some of the most affecting hand-sewn works in all music.
What the Baroque is really all about can be gleaned from the original use of the French word baroque to describe irregular or misshapen pearls. Explains Kipnis: "In Baroque music of Bach, Handel and Rameau, the pearls are the musical forms—such as the sonata, the concerto grosso or the da capo aria. Trills, other ornaments, colorful dissonance, wildly uneven rhythms—all these are devices that create tremendous tension, yank the listener back and forth and leave him in anything but absolute comfort."
To perform such music, the player must have a flawless ability to shape the form, then a knack for making embellishments sound both natural and exciting. Kipnis has both these talents in abundance. Indeed, it is doubtful whether any harpsichordist now performing can match his particular combination of formal restraint, interpretive flair and sheer energy. Certainly that was the case last week as Kipnis made a successful New York Philharmonic debut playing two diverse works under Conductor Pierre Boulez—Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 and Falla's Harpsichord Concerto (1926).
Under the Finger. Though written centuries apart, the Bach and Falla concertos succeed because neither tries too hard to make the harpsichord do things it is not supposed to do. "Too many 20th century composers think of the harpsichord as a piano or as a percussion instrument. They expect you to bang very hard on it," says Kipnis. The impressionism of Debussy or Delius, which calls for a dreamy, sustained tone, simply will not work on a harpsichord. A stride bass can sound downright laughable. The technique of the harpsichordist exists entirely in the fingers, not partly in the arms as with a pianist. The music must be written so that it lies, as Kipnis puts it, "all under the fingers." The special gift of the harpsichord is its startling ability to define close-set contrapuntal strands, together with its staccato brilliance.
How Kipnis became a harpsichordist is something even he is not sure of today. One thing was certain when he was a boy: he was not going to be a singer. His father is the great Ukrainian-born basso Alexander Kipnis, now 83 and living in Westport, Conn.
Igor finally committed himself to the harpsichord in the late 1950s, after graduating from Harvard and taking such odd jobs as picking the Top 40 hits at a radio station. His father was puzzled: "The piano, yes. But the harpsichord? How can you make a career on an ancient relic?"