Vinikour's performances are so buoyant, glistening or noble that you'll likely find yourself glued to your speakers (or headphones). And if you're accustomed to hearing the harpsichord at some distance in a concert hall, be prepared to listen as if you're standing next to the keyboard…” —Gramophone.

Playing with elegance and an innate sense of phrasing that allows lyric inventions to shine through the natural flow of the music, Mr. Vinikour achieves the distinction of offering playing that is genuinely moving.” —Joseph Newsome, Voix des Arts. The six partitas for harpsichord by Johann Sebastian Bach are among the greatest and most inspired works of all keyboard literature. Although they are the first works that Bach decided to publish, they represent the composer's genius at the height of his maturity, matched only by the Goldberg Variations.

Performed on a stunning copy of a North German instrument of Bach's time, rich and expressive, but also clear and incisive, built by Tom and Barbara Wolf, each of the partitas is a microcosm, ranging from the poetic and pastoral (no. 1, in B flat Major), to the epic and tragic (no. 6, in e minor). Bach shows himself to be playful, profound, meditative, theatrical, virtuoso - and always the greatest composer of counterpoint of all time. The six partitas represent the apotheosis not only of Bach's unique keyboard language, and the expressive possibilities of the harpsichord, but in the inherent range of colors and contrasts within the confines of a suite. To a greater extent than in the other sets of suites, each of the six partitas seems to establish its own distinct character, which is developed throughout the suite. As with the English Suites, each of the partitas opens with a prélude. However, these movements are widely varied in form as well as in mood. Although each of the the six partitas contains the standard suite movements (apart from the c minor partita, which foregoes the customary gigue in favor of a Capriccio), these movements show the most striking variety.

REVIEW:

The musical distinction gracing Jory Vinikour’s Bach Partitas should come as no surprise to listeners familiar with this sensitive and cultivated musician. For starters, he gets superb engineering courtesy of Sono Luminus’ home base studios in Boyce, Virginia. The sonics envelop Vinikour’s harpsichord (a 1995 double-manual German model by Thomas and Barbara Wolf, based on a 1738 vintage single-manual instrument by Christian Vater) within a warm, ample, and resonant ambience, with a special ring to sustained bass notes and clarity in all registers. Secondly, Vinikour’s aesthetic evokes that of his late mentor Huguette Dreyfus for its generally conservative tempos and a subtle approach to agogic phrasing that avoids the rhythmic hiccups and lurching mannerisms that we too often hear in the name of “authenticity”.

He never plays faster than one can dance or sing, as the gently ebullient Gigue finales demonstrate, while being quite generous with ornaments and embellishments on the repeats. If the A minor and G major Allemandes tend to sag under their expansive weight, the opposite is true in the D major Allemande’s gorgeously spun legato lines and sustaining power. This Partita’s opening Ouverture, incidentally, receives one of its finest performances on disc; it manages to sound weightily grandiose without sacrificing any forward sweep.

Also worth mentioning are Vinikour’s articulation of the E minor Corrente’s suspended syncopations and his opting to take the Gigue in triple rather than duple meter. Vinikour’s absorption in and commitment to these scores proves further evident in his booklet notes, which are highly informative and vividly expressed. I wouldn’t want to be without Christophe Rousset’s generally brisker pacing, the greater variety of registrations and timbres that Trevor Pinnock serves up in his Hänssler Bach Edition remake, or the late Igor Kipnis’ irrepressible sense of character. Yet Vinikour’s Partitas add up to a serious and major achievement by a serious and major artist.

-- ClassicsToday.com (Jed Distler)