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ANGELA HEWITT: BACH ODYSSEY I
JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH (1685 – 1750)
Fantasia in C minor, BWV 906
The Fantasia in C minor begins with tremendous force
and decision. Its energy comes from three motifs:
a descending arpeggio in the right hand (which soon
becomes, in the left hand, an ascending one), an octave
leap, and a rattling trill. In the fifth bar Bach introduces
two more fragments—a chromatic scale and a playful
leaping figure—both of which play major roles later on
(the latter appearing in a treacherous passage close
to the end where many a player will come to grief!).
Much of its appeal lies in the sections that require handcrossing—both the Italian type (using large skips), and
in the French manner (one hand playing within the span
of the other). Written sometime around 1738, this work
must surely have influenced Bach’s son, Carl Philipp
Emanuel in his development of sonata form.
Aria Variata “alla Maniera Italiana”, BWV 989
A work in A minor that appears in the Andreas Bach
Book is the Aria Variata ‘alla Maniera Italiana’, BWV989.
It probably dates from 1709, so is a relatively early
work. In many ways it is similar to the organ chorale
partitas (the theme here also has a chordal setting),
but there are also things it shares with the ‘Goldberg’
Variations. The aria, for instance, is repeated at the end,
although in BWV989 it is not an exact reiteration but
rather another variation (the last, No X) with some slight
changes. Still, it is moving to return to the mood of the
opening, especially after the brilliance of the preceding
two variations. Also like the ‘Goldberg’, the variations are
based on the harmonic outline rather than on the opening
melody. Each variation is in binary form (two sections,
both repeated) and often requires some appropriate
ornamentation to sustain the interest. Several different
versions of the theme exist, the one in the Andreas
Bach Book being by far the most richly ornamented. Not
wanting to omit that one, yet liking the plainer outline
of the theme for its initial statement, I include it on the
repeat. There are some extremely wide stretches for the
hands (in fact not just wide but impossible), making us
think that perhaps it was written for some kind of pedal
harpsichord. A few tempo indications have survived,
but one in particular is a bit strange (largo for Variation
I which seems crazy given the sparse material and
rhythmic motive). In the end, musical common sense
has to be used.
Fifteen Two-part Inventions, BWV 772-786 and
Fifteen Three-part Sinfonias (Inventions), BWV
787-801
The study of Bach’s two- and three-part Inventions is an
essential for any pianist. Through them we can learn the
basics of phrasing, articulation, touch, rhythm, fingering,
ornamentation, and especially the acquisition of a
singing tone. Not only do they develop finger dexterity
and the complete independence of every finger, but
they give the student a wonderful example of musical
construction. Too often they are passed over rapidly in
favour of a Prelude and Fugue. This is a grave mistake,
because it’s important to play well in two voices before
proceeding to three or four.
Originally written for his son Wilhelm Friedemann,
Bach included the following preface in an autograph
manuscript of 1723:
Proper instruction
wherein lovers of the clavier, but especially those
desirous of learning, are shown a clear way not only
(1) to learn to play cleanly in 2 voices, but also, after
further progress, (2) to deal correctly and well with 3
obbligato parts, simultaneously; furthermore, not merely
to acquire good inventiones (ideas), but to develop
the same properly, and above all to arrive at a singing
manner in playing, and at the same time to acquire a
strong foretaste of composition.
Prepared by Joh. Seb. Bach
Capellmeister to His Serene Highness
the Prince of Anhalt-Cöthen
Anno Christi 1723
The title ‘Invention’ was most likely adopted from fourviolin pieces written bv Bonporti which Bach copied into
his notebooks. It was Bach’s first biographer, Forkel, who
used this word for the three-part works. Bach himself
called them ‘Sinfonias’. In any case, what is important is
the marvellous conversation that goes on between the
two hands. Whatever the right hand is able to do, the
left hand must also accomplish with equal dexterity and
expressiveness.
The piano seems to me to be an ideal instrument for
this music—as long as one stays away (with the odd
exception) from the sustaining pedal! It is admirably
suited to bringing out the different voices, and a skilful
player can accomplish this with different colours. To be
capable of producing a true legato without using the
pedal will serve a pianist well in any repertoire.
There are many treasures to be found in these short
pieces, which are arranged in order of ascending keys
(major before minor), omitting the more unusual ones.
In the ‘Two-part’, the brilliant virtuosity of the F major
and A major contrasts with the quiet lyricism of the F
minor and G minor. The G major is a lighthearted jig,
and the robustness of the A minor gives way to the
delicacy of the B flat. Perhaps the two most unusual are
the E flat and F minor ‘Three-part’. The former is in the
manner of an Italian trio sonata and is a wonderful study
in ornamentation and how it must be an integral part
of the melodic line. The tragic F minor (a crucifixion?)
is the emotional highpoint, with bleak harmonies and
agonizing chromaticisms. What makes this music so
rewarding is that it is food not only for the mind and
fingers, but also for the heart.
Capriccio on the Departure of his Beloved Brother,
BWV 992
The Capriccio in B flat major ‘on the Departure of his
Beloved Brother’, BWV992, was always thought to
have been written in honour of another older brother,
the oboist Johann Jakob, who went off in 1704 to join
the band of the Swedish king, Charles XII. Christoph
Wolff, in his book Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned
Musician (New York, 2000), puts forward the theory that
for various reasons the farewell was more likely for a
friend, no doubt Georg Erdmann, with whom he set out
for Lüneburg. This would bring the date forward by two
years to when Bach was seventeen years old. It is his
only piece of programme music (one with a specific
story attached to it), and shows an already imaginative
and skilled composer. The six movements outline the
story: in the first a tender, supplicating melody paints
a picture of his friends trying to dissuade him from
leaving. In perhaps the least inspired musical moment
of the piece (a short fugue), they then warn him of
misfortunes that could arise on his journey. Having
failed in their efforts, his imminent departure is then
lamented. Marked Adagissimo, this movement is in the
form of a passacaglia and requires the interpreter to
fill in a figured bass. The key of F minor is prophetic:
he would later use it for some of his most sorrowful,
expressive music. The fourth movement (where some
embellishment is also surely required at the beginning)
shows the friends giving in to what is inevitable, and
saying goodbye. Then the postal coach arrives, blowing
its horn (translated into music by a downward octave
leap). The piece then ends with a fugue combining
two motives: the subject suggesting trumpets, and the
countersubject imitating the posthorn. Hubert Parry
called this Capriccio ‘the most dexterous piece of work
of the kind that had ever appeared in the world up to that
time’. It is certainly unique in Bach’s output.
Capriccio on the Departure of his Beloved Brother,
BWV 992
Bach must have briefly returned to Ohrdruf before moving
on to his next post, even if it was only to gather up some
of his belongings. The Capriccio in E major, BWV993,
bears the subtitle ‘in honorem Johann Christoph Bachii
Ohrdrufiensis’, and might possibly have been presented
to his elder brother in thanks for his guardianship and
formative musical education. Not a capriccio in the true
sense of the word (‘whim’ or ‘fancy’), it is rather a long
fugue more in the style of Frescobaldi. The definition
put forward by Furetière in 1690 is more appropriate
here: ‘Capriccios are pieces of music, poetry or painting
wherein the force of imagination has better success than
observation of the rules of art.’ Certainly the wonderful
sense of direction that we encounter in his later fugues
is lacking in this early work, but it is not without charm.
There are extended episodes in two-part writing and
some modulations into what were then very remote keys
(for example, D sharp minor). An unexpected bravura
passage closes the work, with some treacherous leaps
in the left hand which would be considerably easier on
a pedal harpsichord. The young Bach was certainly out
to impress in every way he could. He had an open mind,
a driving ambition, high intelligence, all the necessary
gifts, and an extraordinary capacity for work. When
asked later on in his life the secret of his success, he
simply replied: ‘I was obliged to be industrious; whoever
is equally industrious will succeed equally well.’
Capriccio in E major, BWV 993
Bach must have briefly returned to Ohrdruf before moving
on to his next post, even if it was only to gather up some
of his belongings. The Capriccio in E major, BWV993,
bears the subtitle ‘in honorem Johann Christoph Bachii
Ohrdrufiensis’, and might possibly have been presented
to his elder brother in thanks for his guardianship and
formative musical education. Not a capriccio in the true
sense of the word (‘whim’ or ‘fancy’), it is rather a long
fugue more in the style of Frescobaldi. The definition
put forward by Furetière in 1690 is more appropriate
here: ‘Capriccios are pieces of music, poetry or painting
wherein the force of imagination has better success than
observation of the rules of art.’ Certainly the wonderful
sense of direction that we encounter in his later fugues
is lacking in this early work, but it is not without charm.
There are extended episodes in two-part writing and
some modulations into what were then very remote keys
(for example, D sharp minor). An unexpected bravura
passage closes the work, with some treacherous leaps
in the left hand which would be considerably easier on
a pedal harpsichord. The young Bach was certainly out
to impress in every way he could. He had an open mind,
a driving ambition, high intelligence, all the necessary
gifts, and an extraordinary capacity for work. When
asked later on in his life the secret of his success, he
simply replied: ‘I was obliged to be industrious; whoever
is equally industrious will succeed equally well.’
Fantasia and Fugue in A minor, BWV 904
BWV904 does seem like an organ piece at times. It is not
hard to imagine the descending bass at the opening of
the fantasia doubled by the pedals, giving it even more
gravity and weight than it already has. (Some pianists
try to imitate this by adding the extra octave, but this is
a case where that can only be done with the addition
of a lot of sustaining pedal, thus blurring the wonderful
counterpoint.) It is marked alla breve and resembles
the stile antico style of writing (the Baroque adaptation
of Renaissance polyphony). The opening ritornello
appears four times with three interspersed episodes, all
emphasizing the contrapuntal nature of the piece. The
fugue has two subjects: the first boldly characterized
by leaps and punctuated by rests; the second a slow,
descending chromatic scale that makes a dramatic
appearance halfway through. They could not be more
different. But that is exactly what Bach wants, especially
when he combines the two in the final section. That way
there are easily distinguishable. Making that audible to
the listener, however, is not easy as his counterpoint
in this case is awkward and doesn’t lie well under the
fingers. It is thought that Bach was not responsible for
placing these two movements together; in fact they don’t
appear that way until early in the nineteenth century—
and then only by accident. However, I don’t think we
would realize this if we didn’t already know, as they
make such good companions.
© Angela Hewitt and Hyperion Records