Show Notes
Analysis starts at 17 minutes. Sorry, I got carried away talking about the possible peculiar paradox of being a pianist. Just before making this episode, my harpsichord forced upon me a change of interpretation, so I started thinking about how and why this happens. I spoke about the way classical musicians are ‘bred,’ asking the following questions: How can we spend our lives playing music from the 18th century without any contact with the instruments used then? Can we know objective aspects of older music while playing on a single model of an instrument developed toward the end of the 19th century? Do pianists exist in a vacuum, where a musical interpretation is guided by a sort of subjective vision— is it even vanity or self-flattery? Certainly there are pianists who know the Steinway’s predecessors, but on the whole, I feel there is a real ignorance of the instruments on which our repertoire is founded. Perhaps, though, we are in the midst of a revolution of touch and interpretation: I’ve recently seen more pianists playing fortepianos, owning clavichords, et al. This can only lead to a more text-based reading of the music. But— mind you!— is that a good thing? Do we want to push the art of keyboard playing in a direction away from self expression and toward people claiming the ‘truth’ is on their side? That sounds awful! Even if pianism indeed exists a vacuum, it certainly produces rare visions of the music only accessible through such an art. Enough musing. While playing the A-flat major Prelude BWV 862 on my double manual harpsichord, the instrument, in a word, told me about the music. There was something about the limited palette of the instrument that forced upon me a new approach. This sort of radical adjustment to one’s playing is typical of playing on historic instruments. On the modern grand piano, possibilities are endless, but on older instruments, the sound tends to constrain the range of possible interpretations. Spread the Fugue.
The prelude BWV 862 saw some lovely revisions between the earliest conception of the piece and the version we know. For starters, take the lovely line of the concertino solo in BWV 862a: How different is the revision! Now bars 22-27 in the earliest version: Revised to the more evenly shaped: Want to support W.T.F Bach? Here’s how: The best way is to become a paid subscriber atwtfbach.substack.comYou can also make a one-time donation: https://www.paypal.me/wtfbachhttps://venmo.com/wtfbach Supporting this show ensures its longevity. Thank you for your support! Concepts Covered: J.S. Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1, Das Wohltemperierte Clavier, As Dur, BWV 862, The concerto style of the prelude, between two manuals in the prelude, Fugal analysis, early versions of WTK 1, BWV 862a, and the possible ‘vacuum of pianism’ creating subjective art vs. seeking objective facts about the music. Historic instruments leading to a text-based interpretation, using knowledge of older instruments to inform modern piano playing et cetera.
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More from WTF Bach
The music at the end is BWV 600, from a forthcoming ‘electrified’ arrangement of Bach’s Orgelbüchlein. The beautiful passage toward the end of my rant— with the koto accompaniment and bird song— comes from one of my absolute favorite books: R.H. Blythe’s writings about Haiku. Blyth considered the three greatest geniuses of time to be Basho, Bach, and Shakespeare— in that order! Wow! What am I missing with Basho!? More than a podcast. This is WTF Bach.
Volume 6 in ‘J.S. Bach: Complete Keyboard Works’ is on presale today! Here are the relevant links: * J.S. Bach: Complete Keyboard Works, Vol. 6 - Arrangements of Albinoni and Reincken(https://modernclassicalx.lnk.to/JSBachCompleteKeyboardWorksVol6FromArrangementsofAlbinoniandReincken) I might call this volume a ‘headphones album’ or perhaps one to listen to in the car: The sonic space shifts throughout the course of these pieces. I describe this process in depth in the episode, but essentially each track is two recordings of the piece, playing simultaneously: one recording is the original live performance, while another is that very same performance, played back through the Disklavier with the dynamics flatlined— as if the piano keyboard were incapable of dynamics — like a harpsichord. The two recordings were then ‘live panned’ during the mixing according to my feeling for the music. The result, while perhaps less extreme than this all sounds, is certainly a noticeable phenomenon, especially in headphones or seated between two speakers as in a car. But enough about that, let’s get to the music. Fugue it:
We’ve now covered the seven surviving earliest vocal works by Johann Sebastian Bach! This episode is a brief tour through the episodes we dedicated to these pieces, refreshing our memories and attempting to identify unifying stylistic features. All the episodes covering the Arnstadt/Mülhausen cantatas can be found at:https://wtfbach.substack.com/t/early-cantatas Wanna Cantata?
“The consummate expressiveness of {BWV 4] has always been marvelled at. Each verse is as if chiselled in music.” -Albert Schweitzer, Vol. 2 Bach’s early Easter cantata remains one of the most beloved in the entire canon. Barely 22 years old, he is already in full command of his tone-painting. Here are three measures particularly packed with symbolism: Filling the music with rests at the word nothing, ‘one death eating another’ through the closest possible canon, crosses both in shape and every note ‘sharped’ (gekreuzt,) dripping blood on the Passover doors with short 8th notes, leaping a diminished 12th (!) in the bass aria at the word death, this cantata is a dictionary of text painting. …und singen Halleluja!
Sometimes an article from the EB strikes me as so amusing, I simply have to share it with you. See you next week (or the week after, latest) for the conclusion of our early cantata survey, with Christ lag in Todes Banden, BWV 4. Thanks for listening! Well, That’s Fascinating!