One of my close online friends (maybe that’s an oxymoronic thing to say?) is a huge metal head. Mostly he focuses on doom, death, stoner, and black metal. Believe it or not, I’ve really liked some of the music he’s shared with me. Likewise I share classical with him now and then and uncharacteristically the first thing he fell in love with was Chopin’s Nocturne op.9 no.2. Go figure. Recently I listened to a set of harpsichord pieces by a composer who I had heard of through Jean Rondeau; Joseph Nicholas Pancrace Royer. This one stood out for its banging section that to me sounds like a riff in a metal song, so I shared it with my friend. He was surprised and told me he didn’t expect that kind of sound since he thinks of the harpsichord as a ‘dainty’ instrument. And I can’t blame him. Harpsichord music is associated with images of powdered wigs and whitened faces, sitting in a candle lit room of some aristocrat’s manor surrounded by baroque paintings like a scene from Barry Lyndon. It’s easy to forget that the baroque era was an era of musical extravagance and theatrics, and that the name itself “Baroque”, meaning a misshapen pearl, gives off the idea of irregularity and being larger than life. And Royer was among the misshapen pearls who pushed at the boundaries of what the instrument was capable of. While the title looks like it means vertigo as in an extreme dizzying sensation, that is a false cognate. It means “capricious”. Here, instead of charming and lighthearted, the capriciousness is like something conjured from Mephistopheles. The caprice comes from constantly altering between softer and slow sections against loud sections with rapid full handed chords. The rapid-fire repeating chords is like strumming a guitar, and ends up producing the loudest sound the harpsichord is able to make. It is as if we are listening to a concerto for one instrument, specifically a concerto in line with Vivaldi’s ‘summer’ storm.