Bachcast - biberfan

This is our first look at one of the six sonatas and partitas for solo violin by J.S. Bach. Bach’s contemporary Telemann wrote fantasias for the violin, but they were far less ambitious works than what Bach came up with. Bach was known to be a fair violinist, but the supreme virtuosity he provides in these works has less to do with violin technique than it does from the musical ideas. And that is perhaps why this music translates so well for different instruments. In this episode, we hear the piece performed on both period and modern violin, harpsichord, guitar, and mandolin. There’s something good about every one of the performances, and they each exploit different ideas of what’s possible with tempo, dynamics, the shapes of phrases, and how to overcome the challenge of playing chords.

As far as models go, Bach had in addition to Telemann examples for solo violin works by von Westhoff and the Dresden-based violinist Pisendel. The complexity brought about in the counterpoint, especially so in this fugue from BWV 1003, seem to suggest performance only by virtuosos in the day. Today, this piece, along with the other sonatas and partitas, is well-liked, often-performed, and has a place in the permanent canon of violin literature.

My apologizes for mis-naming Beethoven's fifth symphony as the ninth. I obviously recorded this too late in the evening.

This piece may well be the most well-known pieces for organ by modern society, having appeared in films and often used to evoke a “scary” sentiment. The popularity of the work no doubt has something to do with the way it’s written, and not by chance, however many questions have arisen as to whom was the original author. Among the speculation is that it could be a transcription of a piece originally for a stringed instrument, such as a violin. The Wikipedia article I reference above does a good job at referencing this issue and more. In simple terms, the following may apply:

Despite the fact that the piece lacks so much of the complexity of what we know Bach was capable of, I have to admit the pair of the prelude and fugue is powerful enough, musically, to have in my opinion been “touched” by Bach. We may never resolve the unanswered questions, but we can enjoy the piece for what it is.

Toccata as it is used in this piece refers to a prelude. As with other preludes we have looked at, it’s purpose was to introduce the work and to tickle the keys. I think the opening bars of the piece are as about near-perfect an example of “touching” the keys, and establishing the key, as anything could be. I don’t care if it is written in parallel lines; it comes across to me as an exercise in getting our fingers to move in tandem. Perhaps I am partial to C. Wolff’s opinion of the piece being Bachian, but an “early Bach.”

I have often pointed out in this podcast of Bach’s knack for art in music, and as a composer, I’ve referred to that as invention. I have also made note of the term counterpoint in talking about Bach’s gift.

While the fugue may be simple in the harmonies it creates (counterpoint), there is something catchy about the theme. That’s why for me it speaks to the first part of the related gifts Bach had as inventor and puzzle-creator. In the 1979 book Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, author Douglas Hofstadter points out to the similarity in Bach’s gift in this area to M.C. Escher’s ability to choose visual themes that “fit together.” Just as with Bach, Escher didn’t just choose abstract designs, he instead used things we could recognize, that would pull us in, like a horse, or a fish. The fugue and its preceding toccata are not, perhaps, an Escher masterpiece in their cleverness, but BWV 565, the Toccata con fuga in D minor is, an aural showpiece. And what perhaps we might forget as we look at the score is that the drive and emotion contained within is difficult to see in notes organized upon staves.

This short piece is a two-voice piece for organ and was published after he had moved to Leipzig, in 1739, as part of a treatise of organ pieces. Scholars believe it was likely inserted as Bach’s take on theoretical squabbles on the subject of 2 part counterpoint. Bach was in a position with these pieces to show off his industry with choosing complex themes and constructing those that would go beyond the complexity he had introduced earlier in his 2-part inventions and 3-part sinfonias for keyboard.

Of Bach’s concertos, we have a double concerto for two harpsichords that has also been convincingly arranged for violin and oboe; since one is an arrangement, you will see them both listed as BWV 1060. The oboe and violin version is sometimes labeled 1060R or 1060a. The arrangements have not stopped at a single string and woodwind; the Academy of Ancient Music has recorded this concerto as a double violin concerto and among the more esoteric versions, Richard Galliano has performed the concerto on accordion with violin. The concerto’s strong themes seem to work in any one of these combinations.

Typical of Bach’s concertos (excluding some of the Brandenburg Concertos), it’s written in three movements, following an Italian model, fast-slow-fast. The outer movements, written in a minor mode, are energetic and rich with invention. The middle movement is rendered in a major mode, with a delicious melody that gets exchanged between the two soloists with bass. It’s one of Bach’s gems.

Recordings Featured:

By the sheer number of recordings that have entered my collection, this is no doubt a popular work.

This suite is organized into four movements:

The writing, especially in the Prelude and in the Gigue, suggest an instrument different from the harpsichord. Yet, in the three recordings I highlight in this episode, it’s the keyboard (as an instrument, as the player’s tool) that wins out for me as the most affective performance.

Several of these dances/movements from Bach's second English Suite have to put a big smile on your face. Stand out movements include the first Bourée and the Sarabande.

This copy of the score writes out a da capo for the bourrees, asking the performer to return to the minor-keyed first dance to round off the pair.

Featured Performances:

The trio sonata form was a popular format for chamber music in the Baroque; among the classical models we have sonatas da camera and da chiesa written in 3 parts by Arcangelo Corelli. For him, the texture was made up of two violins playing together with different parts, with a bass line, the basso continuo which might have been one keyboard instrument, a stringed bass instrument such as the cello, or even a combination of instruments playing the bass line, filling out the harmony. For those listening who are not musicians, the tradition of playing in what the English called a thoroughbass, was “art” of how you read one single line of music, what the cellist might play, for instance, and add your own music on top. Figures, mostly numbers written above the notes, would tell the keyboard, lute, or even gamba player what notes to add above, in a type of tablature shorthand. What is less clear is how free the performer could be in adding to that line, and ensembles today having to make choices about what happens with that line: how many instruments? Do they all play all the time?

In what we now believe may have been arrangements Bach made for the organ, he too dabbled in some trio sonata writing, and of course what’s interesting, is that all three lines are written for one instrument: the organ. Bach wrote these in such a way that the bass line is not written in figures, it’s the pedal line. This meant that his writing for the two treble voices had to be harmonically focused so that there would be no question as to what harmonies were implied. And if needed, the organists hands could always through in an extra note if needed, unlike what would have been possible if the solo instruments were not strings, say an oboe and a flute. Bach refers to the piece specifically as “sonata for 2 keyboards, and pedal.”

BWV 525 is written in the key of E-flat major and is presented in 3 movements (fast-slow-fast). So many trio sonatas appeared in four movement plans, but Bach here instead presents us with three, more aligned perhaps with the idea of an another Italian form, the concerto. Some commentators believe that unlike the other organ trios, this one may have been composed specifically for the organ, and like others from the collection, written as curricular material for Bach’s son, Wilhelm Fridemann. If so, it says nothing of Bach as an actual teacher, but in retrospect, this has to be some of the richest music written for the purpose of teaching technique. Just as other composers may have followed Corelli’s models in their education on how to write a proper trio sonata, here Bach’s actions as a creative genius bare fruit in this sonata, a new type of classical exemplar, which in history, may be considered one of the highest forms the world would see from this age. At the same time, younger composers were already leaving the puzzle-piece design of counterpoint behind in favor for simpler, if not elegant, melodies.

The opening movement presents us with counterpoint, the theme presented first in one line, is then picked up into the second. The two voices then chase one another, with the type of invention that Bach did so well, the theme is in short attractive and is even in such a way that allows for ornamentation.

The middle movement moves into the minor, related key of C minor, that’s undeniably beautiful. Remember, that with a repeat, we believe it was an opportunity to elaborate upon an idea you had already heard. Ad hoc variations, if you will… and the format is the same, an entrance by one voice, that’s then followed by a second, the two when sounding, fitting together like two parts that were designed to come together. In the second half, Bach starts the line in the second voice, giving that part the opportunity to lead their partner. A journey is then taken before we return to the familiar theme from the first half; it’s filled with visits to chromatically jeweled places, which is somewhat reminiscent of the “development” section in the Sonata-Allegro form that would dominate so much music from the classical era.

The last movement, in 3/4 time, is a happy affair, again written in binary form. Again, as in the 2nd movement, the top voice leads in the first half, the second voice leads in the second. The format is again the same, The two lines joined as if in a canon, but displaced by by harmony, not unlike what Bach provided as a guide in his two- and three-part inventions for solo keyboard. Here that application of counterpoint is elaborated upon, borrowing the ideas and stylistic devices made popular by other composers.

If you look at the handwritten facsimile linked above, it’s interesting to see the practical means by which Bach recorded the music onto paper, not a bit of the paper was wasted, with the last ideas being fit almost as footnotes into the bottom of a page, so that a new fresh page would not be wasted.

Little needs to be done to re-write this piece (and other other organ trio sonatas) for other instruments since the lines are very simple (single voices), if anything. If the pedal line is to be interpreted as a basso continuo, then yes, figures can be added to indicate what harmonies might be played. The range of the lines may also be altered, to fit the compass of instruments. Several ensembles have made such an arrangement, and they have chosen the key of G major, which aside from ranges, is a simpler key to play on strings and on wind instruments. I also think the character of the piece fits well with the key of G, a happy, sunny key.

In 1994, the then fresh ensemble known as the Palladians recorded this trio sonata for violin, recorder, and basso continuo (lute and gamba). These instruments, different in sound and in how they make sound, are an excellent choice in expanding the expressive potential of the two melody lines, while also offering a clearer contrast between them. On repeats, however, the Palladians do not capitalize upon doing things too differently than the first time around in the binary movements.

London Baroque's recording for BIS offers us a version written for the ensemble familiar to Corelli's sound world, two violins and continuo. While never extrovert in their playing, they interpret it well and take some small leaps of fancy in the repeats in BWV 525.

Movements:

Bach’s six suites for solo cello were written before his move to Leipzig, and a score survives written in the hand of his second wife, Anna Magdalena. This evidence recently elicited a suggestion that perhaps the works were in fact by Bach’s wife, and not him; many did not seriously consider this proposition, based in part on other evidence that A.M. Bach had copied other works quite clearly authored by her husband.

As the sixth suite, it breaks from the norm with evidence of being written for performance on a special instrument à cinq cordes. The piccolo cello, used in many period instrument recordings, has a fifth string, extending the range another fifth. This helps in performance due to the fact that Bach uses a quite extensive range, leaving the bass clef for an upper range that would be challenging on a baroque instrument with a limited fingerboard. With a modern cello, the extended range is less of an issue. Other commentators have suggested other instruments as well, including those that can be played off the arm.

The notes linked below by Costanza are quite nice and really highlight a lot of interest in these pieces. Listening to his tracks, I also like his playing, but I’m going to be sampling from recordings I have lived with somewhat longer.

I find the whole collection remarkable, especially given the lack of information around their composition (and purpose) and information about who in Bach’s circle performed them. Also remarkable was that Bach, as far as we know not a virtuoso cellist, was able to compose works of such incredible emotional depth, not to mention pushing the envelope of cello playing technique.

This episode opens with the music of Antonio Vivaldi, from his opus 3 collection of violin concertos, L’estro armonico. Bach adapts this piece, for 4 solo violins, for 4 harpsichords, BWV 1065. I believe Bach arranged this, and likely other works by Vivaldi, not so much for learning as for a pragmatic desire to offer this popular Italian music to Leipzig audiences.

What provides difficulty in performing this piece to take full effect of a ‘4 person’ concerto is the stereo dynamics that helps us hear the dynamics among the 4 participants. As discussed, pulling the instruments apart makes performing together challenging, especially in acoustic spaces like churches or larger concert halls.

For me, the English suites are a collection that has nice tunes intermixed with real gems. In this first suite from the collection of “grand suites” by Bach, likely written around 1715, is a pair of Bourée dances, in opposing modalities (major-minor). I like interpretation here best from Murray Perahia who recorded them some years ago on the Sony Classics label.