Charles Burney was faintly patronizing about J. C. Bach's keyboard music, which, he said, on account of the composer's own relatively modest technique, was ''such as ladies can execute with little trouble''. No one would dare make such a remark these days, of course, but it was more legitimate then in that the large majority of keyboard players were ladies—not only that is, of the female sex, but of a social class entitled to be so described, and their abilities were certainly not those of professionals. Well, listen to Robert Woolley, and you will realize that Burney was greatly mistaken. Of course, many a lady could get through the notes, but to do them justice as they are done here—to play them with tremendous panache, with wit and with considerable force of expression—is quite another matter.
These Op. 17 Sonatas have not, to my know-ledge, been recorded complete before on the fortepiano, the instrument to which they undoubtedly belong. Composed in the early 1770s, they show Bach's style in its full maturity; most are in just two movements, the popular galant form, but the movements are often quite extended and symphonic in feeling, for example the elaborate Allegro asssai that opens No. 3 or the very originally handled Allegro beginning No. 5. There is a C minor work with a most eloquent Andante in E flat as its central movement while another fine E flat Andante provides the middle movement of the last sonata. The finales of some of J. C. Bach's works are lightweight romps, but here, though brilliant in style, they are virtually all quite meaty in content, the passagework rich in motivic treatment, with an almost Scarlattian persistence, and the ideas elegantly worked out. All this Robert Woolley clearly understands. He brings to these finales a superlative technique; there is real fire to his rhythms and a natural feeling for the logic of the designs (listen especially to Nos. 2 and 6). In the slow movements he shows himself to be fully aware of the emotional content of galant music (that of No. 6 is particularly warm and pensive in feeling); in the big first movements I felt he might once or twice have taken a shade more licence over tempo, but he doesn't hesitate to do that when he wants to and particularly when he is pointing up the contrast, a noted feature of J. C. Bach's music, between a symphonic first subject and a lyrical second. He is generous with repeats.
The sound of the instrument, a Heilmann of the early 1780s in the Colt Collection, is well captured; it seems to have a strong lower register, or perhaps that register is slightly favoured in the reproduction. A disc I can recommend with much pleasure and enthusiasm.'