CLAVIER-ÜBUNG II In 1735, Johann Sebastian Bach entrusted the second part of his Clavier-Übung to a Nuremberg engraver. The work was advertised there on July 1st, and in Leipzig on August 13th. Yet Johann Gottfried Walther, author of the celebrated Musikalisches Lexicon, noted in his personal copy that the publication first appeared at Easter, 1735. The title is Second Part of Keyboard Studies consisting of a Concerto in the Italian Style and an Overture in the French Manner for a Double-Manualled Harpsichord. Composed with the intention of Restoring the Spirit of Music-Lovers by Johann Sebastian Bach. Kapellmeister to the Prince of Saxe-Weissenfels and Director of Choral Music, Leipzig. Published by Christoph Weigel Junioris. Bach had been appointed to his Leipzig post in 1723. He had undertaken to have his Partitas for keyboard engraved and published from 1726 onwards, and in 1731 published them all in a single volume, the first part of his Clavier-Übung. Considering all that his post at St Thomas' entailed, this, his first publication represents a considerable amount of work beyond his expected duties. Yet, barely four years later, he had the second part of the Clavier-Übung engraved. This intense compositional labour, part of the creation of a musical work on a grand scale, must have been extremely important to him. The two pieces brought together in the second part of the Clavier-Übung share more than one unifying element, and present several very particular aspects, within the work of the composer, as well as within the style of keyboard composition then current in Europe. The Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue (BWV 903), along with the Prelude, Fugue and Allegro (BWV 998), are»isolated«pieces, not belonging to a cycle or a designed group. This pairing offers the listener a music lover»restoring«his or her spirit a broad sense of the immense variety of affects that the composer was able to express through his keyboard music. The Concerto in the Italian Style, and the Overture in the French Manner are both expressly intended to be played on a double-manual harpsichord. This level of instrumental precision is rare among the titles, the title-pages or advertisements for compositions at the time, and composers did not usually specify which type of harpsichord should be used. The vast majority of keyboard compositions published in Germany before the large-scale compositions of the sons of Bach (notably Carl Philipp Emanuel and Wilhelm Friedemann) could be played on a singlemanual instrument, the most common type, particularly among amateurs. As with his harpsichord Partitas, Bach is taking a publishing risk here: the broad public of keyboard music-lovers of the time may pass over his Clavier-Übung. But, as usual, Bach happily for us! wasn't concerned about pandering to the public, or making judgments based purely on»commercial «considerations. We have in these two pieces for double-manual keyboard a rare example of the way the composer envisaged the use of the second manual, as well
as the possibilities for contrast in sound between the two manuals. Bach didn't leave the registration options completely up to the player: in the three movements of the Concerto as well as in four pieces of the Overture, he indicates changes of keyboard by forte or piano, a method that would become the common practice of his sons. But the element which unites the two pieces above all is the idea that governs their composition and defines their style of writing. Both are archetypes of a very particular style reserved to keyboard instruments of this period: the transcription of an orchestral work for a single instrument. It was probably around 1712 when Bach, then still young, discovered the latest concertos of Antonio Vivaldi, the scores of which had been brought back in the baggage of Duke Johann Ernst of Saxe-Weimar, nephew of Bach's employer and himself a composer. If we can believe Johann Nikolaus Forkel, Bach's first biographer, Bach,»hearing them praised so frequently as being excellent pieces of music, conceived the happy notion of arranging them for the keyboard.«one could also imagine that his profound knowledge of this»italian style«strongly influenced Bach, and helped him conceive of writing in a more flexible and, perhaps, less constrained style than the»grand«style (stylus sublimus) received from the masters of Northern Europe, with its primary adherence to counterpoint, and prioritisation of cohesion, sometimes at the cost of expression. Each approach is equally in accord with oratorical needs: docere (to teach), delectare (to please), and movere (to move). Seventeen keyboard transcriptions by Bach of Italian and German concertos have survived. Besides those of Vivaldi (six concertos), there are also two concertos of Alessandro Marcello, one by Giuseppe Torelli, one by Benedetto Marcello, one by Georg Philipp Telemann (Carl Philipp Emanuel's godfather), three by Johann Ernst of Saxe-Weimar and three by unknown composers (the young Bach himself?). The enormous work these transcriptions entailed certainly allowed Bach to swiftly acquire a deep and solid mastery of the concerto style, both Italian and German. Clearly the Concerto in the Italian Style is the result of the hours passed finding a way of transferring the effect of an orchestra in dialogue with a solo instrument to the keyboard. The peculiarity of this work is that there is no original piece of which it is the transcription. The use of two manuals enables, at its best, imitation of the alternation of tutti and soli, as well as, very probably (and we sometimes forget this) the foundation of orchestral dynamic principles at the time: more often than the effects of crescendo and diminuendo it was the sudden opposition of nuances of piano and forte that were appreciated and sought after (according to the rhetorical figure of antitheton, the rapid opposition of contrasting or opposing affects). Bach indicates the interpretation of these effects in his score, but not only these: some indications of nuance emphasize not only the opposition within the dialogue between orchestra and soloist, but also within sections written in a»mixed style«. For example, the left hand of the player is to play on the lower manual (naturally producing a louder sound, principally due to the coupling of two eight-foot registers), while the right hand is to suddenly switch to the upper manual (only one eight-foot register, thus softer). The effect is not really one of a forte solo passage accompanied by a piano orchestra, but one of a genuine dialogue between two solo instruments responding to each other between two orchestral interventions. The command of the Italian style here is complete: full sonorities evoking the orchestra, solo passages accompanied by only the viola section, dialogues between the first violin and first cello, vitality and rhythmic exuberance, clarity of melody, sudden and frequent changes of affect. The second movement, clearly written as a violin solo accompanied by the cellos and violas, is almost more Italian than the Italian composers that Bach knew. But he has not forsaken what, after all, is his mothertongue: counterpoint. The last movement of the concerto demonstrates that contrapuntal writing is possible within the most unbridled and virtuosic Italian style. Johann Adolph Scheibe (1708-1776), composer, theoretician and musical critic, at one time a student of Bach, has left his account of the work. Initiator of the famous aesthetic debate concerning Bach's style, and previously a fierce critic of it, Scheibe writes concerning the Concerto in the Italian
Style in his Der critische Musicus (The Critical Musician, volume II, 1745 edition):»who cannot admit at once that this keyboard concerto must be regarded as the perfect model of a well-conceived concerto for one voice? We certainly have today but very few, if not no, concertos possessing such remarkable qualities, and demonstrating a construction as well devised? Only as great a master of music as Mister Bach, who has almost singlehandedly made the keyboard his own, and thanks to whom we can withstand foreigners in all certainty, would have been able to leave us such a work, which deserves emulation from all our great composers, but which the foreigners can but try to imitate in vain.«in 1717 Bach arrived in Cöthen, as Kapellmeister to Prince Leopold, and stayed until his departure for Leipzig in 1723. He had an orchestra of excellent players at his disposal, and his chief duty was to com pose music for the Prince himself an enlightened and knowledgeable amateur and so it was here that he wrote much of his instrumental music. The Brandenburg Concertos, for example, were composed at Cöthen, as were, probably, the Orchestral Suites (BWV 1066-1069). The Overture in the French Manner, the second piece in the second part of the Clavier-Übung, following the example of the Concerto in the Italian Style, is an imaginary transcription of a non-existing orchestral overture. The key of B minor, nevertheless, suggests a connection with the Orchestral Suite in B minor (BWV 1067). We also have a copy of the opening movement from the Overture in the French Manner in the hand of Bach's second wife Anna Magdalena, dating from the 1730s, in C minor. It seems to be a reworking and development of a piece at the time of the initial conception of the second part of the ClavierÜbung. He transposes it down a semitone, adds a significant number of greatly varied dance movements, recognisable and easily memorisable for amateurs, and so offers an indispensible varietas for the delight of a concert-going public. The piece uses the same procedure as the Concerto that precedes it: four of the suite movements bear Bach's indications concerning the use of the two manuals, alternating piano with forte; and the Gavotte, Passepied and Bourrée are all immediately followed by their»alter-ego«, with an opposing character, marked (in the case of the Gavotte and Bourrée) piano, followed by a da capo return to the first dance. It's not completely clear to us what to make of the precision of Bach's description of»in the French Manner...«. A good number of ornaments, either written out or indicated by the conventional signs of the time, can certainly be found, but actually they are no more common than in Bach's French Suites (there are actually many fewer!), the English Suites, or even the Partitas. The characteristics of»french style«are more to be found in the compositional elements. Firstly, the name of the piece and the introductory movement: Overture. It is written in the style of the Ouvertures à la Française, with its three major parts (slow-fast-slow), the first and third using the traditional double-dotted rhythms and the second written in fugato. The form was widely adopted by many composers, including Handel, who almost invariably used it in the overtures to his operas, and is the result of the work and development of Jean-Baptiste Lully, the father of the Tragédie en Musique. It quickly became the indispensable introduction form for all opera, and was the symbol of the French style for the whole of Europe throughout the 18th century. Secondly, the dance movements: Bach presents more»small«dance movements than is customary. Only the (French-style) Courante, the sarabande and the Gigue belong to the archetypal form of the French suite, a structure to which most of the German composers before Bach (Johann Jakob Froberger, Matthias Weckmann etc.) adhered. The Allemande, however, incontestably the first dance of the French suite, is replaced by the grand Overture which gives the title to the whole piece. Nevertheless, Bach demonstrates a remarkable knowledge of all the dance types, in all their variety. Each corresponds perfectly in both its form and metrical structure to the steps of the French dances, particularly fashionable and so highly regarded in Germany, indeed across Europe, at the time. The Gigue, which normally closes a suite such as this, is followed by a supplementary movement called Echo. Far from being written in a typically
French style (the writing is actually very contrapuntal), the Echo employs the (very Italian) echo device in a particularly effective (and, for the player, at times demanding) way. Bach with perfect mastery of the art of oratory chooses not to slavishly repeat the preceding material, and doesn't hesitate to once again display his originality, and surprise his listeners with unexpected effects. The other two pieces on this recording reveal a very different world. Far removed from the wealth of sonority, breadth of effects, and abundant melodic ornamentation of the harpsichord-orchestra of the second part of the Clavier-Übung, and equally opposed to the easy, flowing melodies of the Italian style, the Prelude, Fugue and Allegro (BWV 998) seems more to be intended for the personal pleasure of the performer. Written for both lute and harpsichord, this piece is one of several that have survived in various manuscript forms that don't belong to a cycle. Some of these are written in lute tablature, the others in»keyboard tablature «the two-stave notation that would become standard. They were composed for lute, harpsichord or Lautenwerck, a harpsichord strung with gut. (We know from the inventory of Bach's instruments made after his death that he owned two of them.) The instrumental indications show that the Prelude, Fugue and Allegro weren't specifically intended for the Lautenwerck, and can be played equally well on the lute as on the harpsichord, the different instruments presenting different technical difficulties. The piece is a triptych in E-flat major. Bach chooses here the oldest and simplest disposition (arrangement of the sections of an oration), that of three parts described in Joachim Burmeister's 1606 Musica Poetica: the exordium, medium and finis. Numeric symbolism may also be significant here: the key-signature has 3 flats; there are three separate pieces, the first and last of which are written in triple metre (12/8 for the Prelude, and 3/8 for the Allegro); the Fugue is in three voices, arranged in three distinct parts. We know that a key-signature of three flats was frequently employed to refer to subjects connected with the Holy Trinity: the great Praeludium pro Organo pleno, like the Fuga a 5 (which opens and closes the third (!) part of the Clavier-Übung), both dedicated to setting Luther's catechism to music, are also in E-flat major. The writing in the pieces presented here is much simpler than that of the second part of the Clavier-Übung: the Prelude is constructed on a single descending arpeggio figure, and uses very few compositional tools, while the Fugue presents an extremely simple subject in crotchets, seemingly taking account of the lute's technical constraints. The Allegro ends the set in an open, joyful, almost enthusiastic mood. The Prelude, Fugue and Allegro (BWV 998) can be likened to the Six Biblical Sonatas (the Musikalische Vorstellung Einiger Biblischer Historien) published in 1700 by Bach's predecessor in Leipzig, Johann Kuhnau (1660-1722). In his preface, Kuhnau explains at length the desire that his music be able to express the sentiments and affects experienced by one reading and meditating on the historical accounts of the Old Testament. It may well be that Bach's E-flat major triptych represents in the same way a long and profound meditation on a biblical theme or a painting evoking the Holy Trinity. The Prelude may be the moment of contemplation of the scene, or silent and attentive reading of the passage. The central Fugue is the proper act of the meditatio itself, which unfolds in three parts: a meditation about the subject, an exploration and careful examination of every detail, followed by a return to the meditation, now enriched by the understanding of all its details. The final Allegro could represent rejoicing and gratitude, and, after the period of solitude necessary for the meditation, the return to life in the outside world. Although the dating of the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue (BWV 903) is very uncertain, it is usually placed somewhere between 1708 and 1725, which is to say that it could have been composed either at Weimar, Cöthen or Leipzig. What is certain is that the piece soon made an indelible impression on all that heard it. Forkel dedicates a paragraph to them in the chapter on Bach's keyboard compositions:»i have taken great
pains to discover whether or not Bach ever wrote another piece in the same genre. In vain: this Fantasy is unique in its field, and has never been equalled. Wilhelm Friedemann brought me it from Brunswick. [...] It is remarkable that this piece, one of the very highest artistic mastership, makes an impression on even the most inexperienced auditor, if played with care«. Although separated by more than a century, and in a style clearly far removed, Bach's Chromatic Fantasy is above all a homage to Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck (1562-1621), who wrote a similar piece, emblematic both of his composition style and his keyboard skills: the Fantasia Crommatica. Both these pieces seem to answer as much to a common mastery of discourse and organisation as to a shared ability to arouse the passions. Whether a reflection by Forkel of the mind-set of the time, or the evolution of taste, it seems nevertheless that the Fantasy left a deeper impression than the Fugue. It is the Fantasy Forkel regards as»unique in its field«. He says nothing at all about the Fugue. As a masterpiece of the art of rhetoric, Bach's Chromatic Fantasy is nonetheless inseparable from the Fugue that completes it. The two pieces taken together, in effect, seem to offer one of the most beautiful examples of the musical expression of a judicial argument, in the great tradition of oratory. Ciceron and Quintilian, revisiting and theorising their experience, as well as that of their predecessors, generally confined the reflections in their writings to legal argumentation. All rhetoric in ancient times was clearly divided into three types: legal discourse (intended for the courtroom); deliberative discourse (public or private argument, having as its goal the taking of a decision concerning a choice between two possibilities); and epidictic or demonstrative discourse (from the Latin demonstrare, to show, with the aim of praising or criticising). Despite this, the great majority of advice and directions given by the classical orators was aimed towards improving the efficacy of legal discourse. So how are we to envisage music being able to employ the same techniques, or to be thought of as a legal argument? The answer is surely to be found in an expanded use of rhetorical precepts, and in a permanent adaptation to the particular situations of musical discourse. The actual contexts for this were defined by another tripartite division: church, chamber and theater. Nevertheless, music offered the tradition of legal rhetorics plenty of leeway. Indeed, staged, and set to music, the archetypal courtroom situation debate between prosecution and defence opens up a wide field of varied and expressive rhetorical possibilities, which could only have been a source of inspiration for composers. Imagine a legal debate without words, the entire process being assigned to a single instrument: it must have been a very attractive prospect. The Chromatic Fantasy and its fugue make a captivating case to demonstrate just this: it convinces through the interconnection of ideas, seduces with its variety and ornamentation, and persuades through its affecting force. In effect, all the elements recommended by Ciceron and Quintilian can be found in this piece, lending it all the power, grandeur and effectiveness of a successful trial defence. Bach respects here the divisions of the discourse, the orator s tasks, the careful organisation of the argument, the changes of tone, and even the correct procedures of the situation, such as the enumeratio (recapitulation of the facts and arguments) and the confutatio (refutation of the opposition s arguments). The moment chosen by Bach seems to be that of the final appeal, responding to the arguments of the prosecution. The lawyer speaking in this case may have chosen the same type of defence as that chosen by Cicero in his Pro Milone ("In Support of Milon"): Cicero builds his defence of Milon, accused of corruption, on the tactic of «pleading guilt» in order to finally convince the judges that Milon is innocent of all the accusations brought against him. We should imagine a lawyer speaking as the Fantasy opens. His exordium (or prooemium, first part of the argument, bars 1-2) is a response to the argument of the prosecution, and immediately becomes more than usually impassioned in order to seize, without pause, the attention of his auditors. It is an exposition that expresses through its two sweeping, inconclusive strokes outrage at the prosecution s arguments, sows doubt, and demonstrates the ease with which the falsity of their reasoning can be exposed. Now comes the narratio (exposition of the facts, bars 3-20). Like every good narration, it
must be clear, precise and certainly not too long in order to get to the core of the argument. This is not the place for passionate or violent words; but it does conclude with a great question, by the use of the rhetorical figure of the interrogatio, a rising musical gesture ending in suspense, spanning three octaves. Our speaker now comes to the confutatio, the moment of refutation of the opponent s arguments one by one. The confutatio appears here in two periods. The first is a recapitulation of the prosecution s claims, designed to expose their gratuitous and wild nature, as well as their weakness (bars 21-49). The use here of a «succession of harmonic arpeggios» and «strange... harmonies» (Forkel) clearly shows that the entire case against the defendant is based on specious arguments. The second is the place where, in turn, the speaker refutes each of the accusations. Bach writes Recitativ here, clearly indicating a change of tone. The different arguments are each carefully exposed and swiftly demolished by the chord which ends their exposition (bars 49-75). Bach presents here a variety of argumentation in language full of copia (an abundance of words and ideas indispensable to any good speaker, as noted by Forkel). Each argument, whether presented as irrefutable or leaving the impression of suspicion (falling or rising) is immediately dispatched. Bach s use of chromaticism, notably the enharmonic A-flat/G-sharp in bar 57, demonstrates at once the pernicious nature of the opposition s case, and the particular skill with which our orator destroys, sometimes by inverting them, the prosecution s arguments. The variety of tone, employed as much in the presentation of arguments as in refutation, is also an example of the varietas so admired by the great orators: clarity of conception, emphasis, insidious insincerity, excitation, sad resignation, implacability, vehemence, anger... Finally, in a great and forceful amplificatio (expansion), the speaker destroys the two final and strongest arguments, which requires some passagi (a succession of very rapid, simultaneously ascending and descending passages) and arpeggios covering the entire compass of the Fantasy (bars 71-74). The prosopopoeia (speaking in place of an absent person) and the hypotyposis (lively description of a scene in a way that it virtually unfolds before the listener's eye) are majestically employed here. Firmly logical, the argument continues with an enumeratio summing up the case. It is at this point that the piece s chromaticism plays its most important role: each argument is outlined in a concentrated manner, with a sweeping chromatic catabasis (descent), systematically interrupted and refuted by a chord that, in accordance with the downward chromatic motion, is built on the same bass D. This insistent, repetitive figure (paronomasia) serves to conclude the brilliant enumeratio, completing the destruction of the prosecution s case. Our speaker can now embark on his peroratio (conclusion of the argument), in the form of a fugue, during which he can and must give free rein to his passions, above all employing his ability to move (movere) his audience, using all the elements of his art, and appealing to their pity, indignation, anger etc., all in order to secure their final approval. The definitive conclusion to the fugue, and therefore the entire case for the defence, is especially remarkable due to its emphatic and unyielding tone. The core argument is presented here for a last time, in bass octaves, a technique very seldom applied. It follows the principle of complexio, current since the Rhetoric to Herennius, from the first century BC: a condensed summation of the principal idea or point of the case. The variety of affects, majestically organised by the composer in these four pieces, reflects his mastery of the different styles. Modest in the dance movements, intermediate in the Prelude, Fugue and Allegro, sublime in the Overture, and blending all these as he pleases in the Concerto and the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, he»restores«our spirits in a rich, convincing and most touching way. Pascal Dubreuil Translation: Will Wroth