This discussion remind me of Bruno Philippe's comments in the booklet to his sprit new recording:
"It’s March 2020 and the world is ‘going into lockdown’ for the first time. No more concerts, no more travel, an empty calendar until further notice . . . What to do with all this free time that has appeared so suddenly? The answer is almost self-evident. I decide to get to closer grips with Johann Sebastian Bach and his Solo Cello Suites. I have been playing and practising these six suites ever since I was a boy. But this time, I want to go further. I have only studied the manuscript of Anna Magdalena Bach up to this point, but now I explore others, especially the Kellner MS. I’m fascinated by what I find there: possible answers to some of my questions about tempo and articulation. Until now I’ve used metal strings. But over the past few years I’ve been learning to play on gut strings with Thomas Dunford’s Baroque ensemble Jupiter. Thomas, an inspired lutenist, and Jean Rondeau, a magnificent harpsichordist, have welcomed me into their continuo team with open arms, and I couldn’t have hoped for better company in which to learn the Baroque repertory. A new world has opened up for me: the tactus, the way a Baroque bow reacts to gut strings while revealing a bewilderingly natural flow . . . Having never tried to perform the Bach Suites in this way, I decide to take the plunge. The first few days are tough going: I almost have to relearn how to play Bach, to erase the reflexes I’ve picked using my usual bow and strings. A lot of things change: mainly the tempi, but also the relationship to bounces, to strong and weak beats in the dance movements, or the density of the harmonic spectra when I play chords, for example. I’m exploring new sensations. Here we are in March, and the prospect of immersing myself totally in this music, and only this music, may never occur again! So I call Christian Girardin, director of harmonia mundi, and suggest that we record the Suites as soon as the lockdown is over. He agrees. I am so happy and so honoured by the trust placed in me. July 2020: the recording begins. This is the first time I’ve recorded alone. It’s quite a dizzying experience to be by myself in front of the microphones, very different from what I’ve been used to until now. This solitary exercise soon turns into a duo with Alban Moraud as sound engineer and recording producer. The order in which the Suites will be recorded still remains to be decided. A practical order? The most difficult ones first? No, rather a choice based on affinity: 5, 6, 4, 3, 2, 1.
By virtue of their key scheme, the Suites can be likened to a human being’s journey through life:
1 G major: birth.
2 D minor: experience.
3 C major: life.
4 E flat major: spirituality.
5 C minor: death.
6 D major: resurrection.
I decide to start with the subject I feel I know best: death (as a spectator, I assure you!). I feel close to the way Bach represents it with his ‘French style’, overdotted and distanced. Death to start with, but, above all, birth to finish with. I recently became a father. My little Héloïse, born on 26 April 2020, accompanied me during a large part of this project. I am so proud and happy to be able to offer her this recording! Her arrival has totally changed my life, but also my interpretative options. After all, a birth is like a fireworks display! To the calm and ingenuousness I once imagined in the prelude to the First Suite in G major, for example, is added the urgency of presenting oneself to the world, of discovering everything and already of questioning oneself! Many magnificent recordings of these Suites already exist, so why record them again? To do what others have done? Or the exact opposite? Certainly not. I am convinced that honesty and faith in one’s ideas can result in a form of individuality. Which means there are as many possible interpretations as there are cellists ready to serve this music. Hence these sessions in front of the microphones were a necessary step in honing my convictions and enabling me to appropriate the most sublime pages ever written for my instrument. Finally, we come to the post-production stage. We listen to all the takes again, we get lost, we’re sometimes tempted to give up . . . Now that the recording is in your hands, I can tell you: I have never been faced with such a difficult undertaking in my life! I’ve put so much into it, in terms of both craftsmanship and affect, that it’s quite a daunting feeling to let go of it and allow it to reach your ears . . . Of all my recordings, this is probably the one where I present myself most intimately: it contains my strengths, my weaknesses and my imperfections. I have put everything I have into it. Es ist vollbracht." BRUNO PHILIPPE
This is one possible way of considering the six suites a cycle and not six individual works. However I don't understand why repeats can't be done all the same and how this interferes with the cyclic approach. Philippe does all the repeats.
And if one feels the need to hear a violoncello da spalla, there are three recordings with all the repeats done (Kuijken, Terakado and Badiarov). And Malov's earlier recording of the suites 1, 2 and 6 including all the repeats.