Cello in the Time of Bach, Vol. III

With Cello in the Time of Bach, Vol. III I continue my survey of cello music by Johann Sebastian Bach - chiefly the Six Suites for Unaccompanied Cello - and those of his contemporaries. As before, I am still recording at home, with all its inherent limitations, even as the COVID pandemic begins to wane. For a more seamless experience at a desktop computer, please consider opening this in two browser windows, one for the playlist, and another for the program notes below to ease scrolling. Everything should work on a mobile device but there will be a certain amount of scrolling. If a pop-up regarding SoundCloud appears, I would advise choosing “Listen in Browser.” I hope you enjoy Vol. III !

About the Music

Some believe that J. S. Bach (1685-1750) may have conceived his Six Suites for Unaccompanied Cello in two groups of three. The logic behind this notion is suggested in the “mirroring” between the two “sets”: the great Dutch cellist Pieter Wispelwey, who has recorded the entire cycle of 6 Suites three times between 1989 and 2012, feels that in many ways Suites 4 through 6 are bigger versions of Suites 1 through 3. “Six mirrors Three - both are extrovert pieces, luminous, festive (Six more so than Three). Five is the somber mirror of Two, which is the other minor Suite...Four has this intriguing ethereal Prelude so different from the innocence of One and its naivete. It still has an open mind, but also another side, which is hermetic and mysterious...”

I begin Vol. III of my series Cello in the Time of Bach with Suite No. 4 in E flat major, BWV 1010. Wispelwey, in describing the Prelude in the context of the two “mirrored” sets of Suites, observes that whereas “the Prelude (of Suite) One starts off as a simple presentation of the tonality and surrounding keys, the Prelude of Four does the same, but then starts to wander and gets weird, especially in the second half.” Indeed, while the Prelude of Suite No. 4 seems based on a grand large scale - almost like a great organ - with a succession of undulating arpeggiated chords, this progression is interrupted several times with fanciful flights of sixteenth notes which seem like improvisatory-like cadenzas. The Prelude is a yet another wonderful example of how Bach creates the illusion of multiple voices even though only one note sounds at a time, using leaps across wide ranges and grouping of phrases to sound like multiple musicians conversing in chamber music. Regarding the Allemande, Wispelwey continues: “The Allemande in (Suite) Four has a clear-headed quality but a richer, more intriguing texture compared to (the Allemande in Suite) One.” In contrast to the grand Prelude, the Allemande is gentle and flowing, a different take on E-flat major. The Courante is bright, jaunty and nimble, followed by the tranquil Sarabande in which two true voices are maintained throughout.  The good humored Bourrées are affable and gentle, the first unusually elaborate compared to the second, which is only 16 bars long.  The concluding Gigue is an energetic fast paced perpetuum mobile.

In stark contrast to the luminous Suite No. 4, Suite No. 5 in C minor, BWV 1011 is quite dark. Besides utilizing the key of C minor, Bach indicated that the A string be tuned down to G - this arrangement is known as “scordatura” - which, along with the open G string, creates a special resonance contributing to the dark texture.  Another notable difference separating Suite No. 5 from the other Suites is his fascination in the French style. The opening Prelude is in the form of a French overture, featuring two parts, the first of which is a stately section in duple meter with dotted rhythms, followed by a faster fugal section.  Bach was obviously familiar with writing fugues for a four stringed instrument -  the Unaccompanied Violin Sonatas and Partitas include 3 fugues - but this one for cello is different in that the fugal writing is less overt with voices weaving in and out, and while out, the voices proceed along with the rest albeit inaudibly, to render the fugue sparingly, requiring the listener to fill in the implied voices. Bach’s polyphonic thoughts are a bit more fleshed out in the version for lute, BWV 995. The Allemande continues in the French style with dotted rhythms, including runs of sixteenth notes. For Courantes in the Six Suites, Bach tended to model after the more swift Italian Corrente, despite using the name French Courante throughout. However, in Suite No. 5, he uniquely seems to intend the French style, which tends to be slower and more weighty. Stylistically, French Courantes may have more in common with Sarabandes than the lighter and more swift Italian Correntes.

As in the other Suites, the Sarabande is the emotional center. Unlike the Sarabandes in the other five Suites however, this one contains no chords or double stops. The single line contains its own root notes to establish harmonic progression. And, remarkably, this solitary line subtly but powerfully distills all of the emotions of tragedy and resignation into an astonishingly short 20 measures (40 if you consider the repeats).

Gavottes were rustic and somewhat unsophisticated dances included in French courts reflecting their society’s intrigue with a pastoral lifestyle. The Gavottes of Suite No. 5 are lighter in character, serving to offset the weight of the preceding movements. French styled dotted rhythms continue in the closing Gigue which also feature longer notes tied across bar lines disguising the underlying pulse. As a French gigue, it may be performed at a slightly more relaxed tempo compared to the more rapid Italian gigue featured in other Suites. As such it is possible that it may be reflecting back on the fugal section of the Prelude.

As as whole, Suite No. 5 is the most devastatingly dark of all the Suites and while it conveys a deep and palpable sense of tragedy, loss and resignation, ultimately there are also elements of acceptance and resilience, leaving one with some sense of hope at the conclusion.

Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) was a prolific and highly successful composer during his lifetime, actually overshadowing contemporaries such as J. S. Bach - whose genius was not appreciated until much later -  and George Frederick Handel, who lauded Telemann, by saying that he could write write a work in eight parts as easily as anyone else could write a letter.  It is all the more remarkable that Telemann was essentially self-taught. 

It is tempting to compare Telemann’s solo violin works to those of J.S. Bach - the Unaccompanied Sonatas and Partitas - but this would be a bit unfair. Although the two men were contemporaries and composed their unaccompanied violin pieces only 15 years apart, their intentions were likely very different. One would guess that Bach wrote for educated professionals who relished the discovery of complex counterpoint and technical challenges, stretching the violin to or beyond known limits. Telemann wrote in a more forward looking gallant style which, while technically sophisticated, was more accessible, and it is likely, from what is known of his life, that Telemann had a shrewd understanding of what his audience responded to. 

Telemann composed many pieces for solo instruments, including 12 Fantasias for Flute, 12 Fantasias for Violin, 12 Fantasias for Viola da gamba, and 36 Fantasias for harpsichord. He may have conceived the 12 Fantasias for Violin in 2 groups of 6, as he described the collection as “12 fantasias...of which 6 include fugues and 6 are Galanterien.” The fugues he referenced are the contrapuntal style of certain Fantasias. In this set I present the Violin Fantasia No. 10, TWV 40:23, which would be considered in the group with a fugue, although this terminology is used mostly to indicate polyphony, rather than a formal fugue in the manner of Bach. This Fantasia begins with an energetic Presto, full of life and generosity. The Largo is solemn and beautifully, if leanly, crafted. The Fantasia ends with gentle Allegro which, while only about 82 seconds long, is luminous and embracing.

Telemann’s Six Canonic Sonatas, originally entitled “Six Canons or sonatas for two German Flutes or two Violins,” was published in London sometime during the latter part of the 18th century.  Each movement is a two part canon in which both musicians perform literally exactly the same musical lines but separated by a measure or so. Anyone who has sung “Row, row, row your boat” with others is familiar with a canon form. Of course Telemann’s canons are much more complex as a simple glance at the score - or a listen - reveals. Here I present the first of the Six Canonic Sonatas, arranged for two cellos. I’m performing both parts in this recording. This Sonata begins with an lively Vivace, followed by a somber almost dirge-like Adagio with a feeling of timelessness. The Sonata concludes with an energetic Allegro which races in a cat and mouse fashion to the finish.