The Bach Project presents Brandenburg 5 and the Coffee Cantata

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a concert featuring Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D major, Trio Sonata in G major, and Schweigt stille plaudert nicht (“Coffee Cantata”). This concert was presented by The Bach Project in conjunction with Ashmont Hill Chamber Music on March 10, 2024

Is it fate?  Chance?  Luck?  Divine guidance or intervention?  Karma?  Fortune’s Wheel?  What is the best name for that almost magical experience of being in the right place at the right time?  What happens when that moment is over?  Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos are a case study in chance encounters and what may (or may not) transpire because of them.  From 1717 until 1723 Bach was the Kapellmeister for Leopold, Prince of Anhalt-Köthen.  Bach’s attention during this time was primarily on secular and instrumental music for the court rather than sacred music for Lutheran services, since the court in Köthen was Calvinist.  In 1721 Bach reworked a selection of six instrumental concertos (including the Concerto No. 5 in D major), had them bound, and sent them to Christian Ludwig, Margrave of Brandenburg, thus earning them the name “Brandenburg Concertos”

There are many theories about what led to the submission of the Brandenburg Concertos.  In 1721 Prince Leopold married Frederica Henriette of Anhalt-Bernburg.  Bach blamed her lack of interest in music for the Prince’s waning support for the musical institution in the Köthen court.  At the same time, Köthen also had growing monetary obligations to the Prussian army and it is likely that was the underlying reason for the cuts to Bach’s funding.  Bach had previously visited Berlin in 1719 and met the Margrave, who (according to some sources) asked Bach for some compositions.  Possibly Bach remembered the Margrave’s interest and thought it could be an excellent time to begin a job search.  His first wife, Maria Barbara, had died in 1720 so Bach may also have been looking for a way to start fresh in a new position. 

Nothing came of Bach’s submission of the concertos.  They weren’t published until 1850, and it is unknown if the Margrave ever had them performed.  The Brandenburg court lacked some of the instruments needed for a performance and after two years of waiting for Bach to respond to the request, the Margrave’s interest may have waned.  Perhaps that was a good lesson about the importance of timeliness and tailoring an application to the needs of the position.  Though Bach is recognized as a great composer now, in his own day he was not part of the top tier of court musician-composers.  It is one of the great ironies of Bach’s story that a failed job application has become some of his most famous and well-loved instrumental music.

After receiving no response from Berlin, Bach took a position in Leipzig in 1723.  While his first years there were focused on the cantatas, in 1729 he took over the leadership of the Collegium Musicum in addition to his church responsibilities.  Many German cities at the time had similar societies made up of university student musicians and led by local professionals.  The Leipzig Collegium Musicum gave weekly free performances at Café Zimmermann until Gottfried Zimmermann’s death in 1741.  Twelve years of weekly performances gave Bach an opportunity to present earlier compositions such as the Brandenburg Concertos as well as a chance to rework pieces and explore other secular genres.

The Trio Sonata in G major, BWV 1038, has been the subject of significant debate.  The source is a set of parts in Bach’s handwriting dating from 1732-1735.  It has the same bass line as the Violin Sonata, BWV 1021, and is also a model for the Trio for Violin and Obligato Keyboard, BWV 1022.  Some have proposed that BWV 1021 is J.S. Bach’s work but that BWV 1038 and 1022 may have been by one of his sons (perhaps even C.P.E.).  Another possibility is that the repeated bass line in BWV 1021 and BWV 1038 was a labor-saving device since these were likely written for highly skilled amateurs or students (such as the members of the Collegium Musicum) rather than professional players.  Keeping the bass line from a previous work would have given Bach a chance to explore new possibilities for realization and counterpoint while also saving some compositional time.

Though opera was the one genre Bach neglected, the secular cantata Schweigt stille, plaudert nicht, BWV 211 (“Coffee Cantata”) leaves little doubt about his ability to write for the stage.  With exaggerated characters, social commentary, and humorous plot twists, this miniature comic opera was a light-hearted criticism of the coffee culture of Leipzig in the early 1700s, both those who enjoyed it as well as those who were adamantly opposed to it.  Bach’s libretto came from Christian Friedrich Henrici (Picander) who contributed texts for many of Bach’s sacred works as well.  In this story, the stern father Schlendrian offers bribes and threatens punishments to break coffee’s hold on his daughter Liesgen.  She ignores and evades him until he finds the one thing she desires most.  In a plot twist that Bach added to Picander’s text she finds a way to have both. 

The years in Leipzig were some of the most stable and successful of Bach’s life, and working with the Collegium Musicum at Café Zimmermann gave him the opportunity to do both secular and sacred music.  Bach wasn’t the most successful musician of his day.  He wasn’t the first (or second) choice for the job in Leipzig.  Sometimes he was in the right place at the right time and was able to transform that moment into career success.  Other times his applications went unanswered, his employer’s attention moved to other things, he had to navigate family tragedies, and he learned lessons the hard way.  He wasn’t the most famous, his music wasn’t the best liked, and he didn’t always get along with his employers (or his performers).  Fate, fortune, karma, luck… The realities of life as a working musician were as complicated then as they are now, even for those at the top. 

The Bach Project presents Trio Sonatas of J.S. and C.P.E. Bach

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a concert of Trio Sonatas by J.S. and C.P.E. Bach. This concert was presented by The Bach Project in conjunction with Ashmont Hill Chamber Music on October 22, 2023.

            Somewhere on a music theory test the question is always asked: “How many performers does it take to play a trio sonata?”  The answer, like most things in life, is complicated.  Trio sonatas evolved from the three-voice texture used in Italian vocal chamber music in the early 1600s.  When adapted for an instrumental chamber ensemble, the most common strategy was to use two melody instruments for the top two voices (some combination of flutes, recorders, violins, or oboes) and then a lower voiced melody instrument (cello, viol, or bassoon) with a harmony instrument (organ, harpsichord, or theorbo) for the third line.  Thus, the instrumental trio sonata generally requires four players, which satisfies most music theory professors.  The great variety and flexibility of the trio sonata as a genre made it a favorite of Baroque composers throughout Europe for well over a century.

            When J.S. Bach (1685-1750) put his stamp on the trio sonata genre, he did it by almost completely avoiding the usual three-voices-with-four-players texture.  In some compositions he reduced the players to two – a solo melodic instrument plus a harpsichord with each hand taking a separate line – while in others he converted the trio sonata to a form for solo organ with each hand playing an upper melody line and the feet taking over the bass line.  The Trio super Allein Gott in der Höh’ sei Ehr’, BWV 676 is a single movement trio based on a chorale tune.  Taken from the third volume of Bach’s Clavier-Übung, it is not a true trio sonata but instead an exploration of the trio texture for organ using a chorale tune as a basis.  Clavier-Übung III was composed between 1735-1739 and takes the form of an organ mass – a prelude and fugue bookend the collection with 21 pieces in between based on chorales following the form of a Lutheran mass and the catechism.

The Trio Sonata in C minor, BWV 526, comes from a collection of trio sonatas for organ assembled in the late 1720s.  The organ sonatas were likely intended for Wilhelm Friedemann Bach but were used by many of Bach’s students and are considered some of his most challenging organ repertoire.  Some portions of this collection were reworkings of earlier compositions or other pieces, though so much of Bach’s chamber music is lost that it is difficult to know what was newly composed and what might have been based on a lost source.

The collection known as Das Musikalische Opfer or The Musical Offering owes its composition to the connections of Wilhelm Friedemann’s younger brother Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach.  C.P.E. Bach was employed as a court musician by Frederick the Great of Prussia from 1738-1768.  When J.S. Bach visited his son in 1747, the king gave him a theme on which to improvise.  This theme formed the basis for The Musical Offering which included two ricercars, ten canons, and the Sonata sopr’il Soggetto Reale, BWV 1079.  While the instrumentation for other movements of The Musical Offering is unclear, the trio sonata was written specifically with flute and violin in mind for the two upper parts.  Frederick the Great was an accomplished musician and composer in his own right, and his skill in playing the flute resulted in a wealth of flute repertoire written by composers in and around his court.

Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-1788) was J.S. Bach’s third surviving child (after Catharina Dorothea and Wilhelm Friedemann) and received most of his musical training from his father.  His godfather was Georg Philipp Telemann, whom he would succeed as director of music in Hamburg in 1768 after thirty years of employment at the Prussian royal court.  The Trio Sonata in B minor, H. 567, and Trio Sonata in A major, H. 570, both date from roughly 1731-1735 when C.P.E. was still living at home in Leipzig before his appointment in Berlin.  He revised them in 1747, probably for use in Frederick the Great’s court.  C.P.E.’s chamber music shows the transition from the Baroque period to the Classical – while his early works like these trio sonatas are clearly written in Baroque style with two melody instruments and a continuo bass line, his later chamber music includes accompanied sonatas that are a precursor to what would become the piano trio.  Frederick the Great had several fortepianos in his musical collection, and it was as a keyboardist that C.P.E. Bach built his reputation as a performer.  Over the course of his life, he would also publish more collections of keyboard music than any other genre.  In recent years there has been excellent scholarship on C.P.E. Bach’s compositional output:  for this concert, performing parts based on the critical edition Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach: The Complete Works (www.cpebach.org) were made available by the publisher, the Packard Humanities Institute of Los Altos, California. 

From its earliest published versions (Salamone Rossi, 1607) to the forms that later evolved into the string quartet and the piano trio around 1760, any and every composer of instrumental music explored the possibilities of the trio sonata.  With a wide variety of colors and textures yet enough limitations to provide structure, nearly 150 years of composers from all over Europe put their own stamp on the genre – exploring what was possible and how many performers would be required.

The Bach Project presents The St. John Passion

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a performance of Bach’s St. John Passion. This concert was presented by The Bach Project in conjunction with Ashmont Hill Chamber Music on March 5, 2023.

Every epic story has a main antagonist – a “big bad” – to provide the conflict and give the hero a reason for their actions.  Whether it is Thanos in the Marvel Universe, the Empire and Darth Vader in Star Wars, or the countless villains in Disney movies, everyone knows and can identify the main enemy in most major stories about good and evil.  But who is the enemy in the St. John Passion?  Who is truly responsible for the death of Jesus? 

Before going any further it should be clearly stated:  it is NOT the Jews.  The backdrop of this story is the tension between the Jewish people and the Roman occupation.  Jesus was Jewish, as were his disciples (including Judas).  It would be equally as inappropriate to eliminate all references to Judaism as it would be to focus on that as the single issue of the St. John Passion.  Unfortunately there is a long tradition of the Christian church using “the Jews killed Jesus” as an excuse for unspeakable atrocities – committing them and allowing others to do so – and it is both wrong (the Romans executed him) and unacceptable in Christian theology which includes the precept to treat others as one would wish to be treated and to take care of everyone, no matter their religious practice or any other distinguishing characteristics. 

Antisemitism was rife in the Christian (and Lutheran) church in the 1700s, as it has been at many points in history.  Martin Luther was clear about his antisemitism, and his bias most definitely impacted his translation of the gospel of John into German. The portions of the text taken directly from the gospel of John (the recitatives of the Evangelist and the conversations between Pilate, the mob, and Jesus) are pulled from Luther’s translation of the Bible, which pointedly highlights the role the Jewish leaders took in handing Jesus over to the Romans.  The portions added to the libretto (the chorales, arias, and a few of the major choruses) provide more commentary on the story and expand on the general theology of the Lutheran church at the time without any such references.  While Bach’s personal views on the Jews are somewhat unclear, he was a devout Lutheran so it is reasonable to assume he shared the attitudes of his day; his statements about the Turks and the Pope from Cantata 18 leave little doubt about his opinions there, and this is likely no different.  The historical Lutheran view of the Jews is clear in the libretto and it should cause discomfort, especially reflecting on the tragic outcomes of that attitude throughout history.  To present the St. John Passion as it is, without any discussion of these issues, would be wildly irresponsible and there is no need to cause further harm.  At the same time, to erase all references to Jesus’ ethnicity would remove all context from an historical event and eliminate the opportunity to confront difficult chapters of history and learn from them. These translations seek to find a middle ground by adjusting a few key words, indicated by brackets. (online note: if you are interested in these, please reach out via my contact page!)

Much has been written about fascinating other aspects of the St. John Passion – the different revisions Bach made over his lifetime, the symbolism and numerology that can be found in the structure, and a much greater discussion of both Lutheran theology and antisemitism – and the reader is encouraged to seek out experts on those topics for a fuller understanding.  For the sake of simplicity, the remainder of these notes will cover the story as it is told in the libretto and the relevant elements of Christian practice, as opposed to debating the validity of religious belief.  The story of Bach’s St. John Passion is really an exploration of the question of who is truly responsible for the death of Jesus, and other issues are better left for theologians, historians, and personal convictions.

In looking for the enemy in the St. John Passion, several possibilities arise.  Judas betrayed Jesus, but in the libretto, as in the gospel of John, he disappears after the first few minutes (this is one of many differences between the writings of John and Matthew).  The Jewish leaders were following their laws for someone who was clearly developing a following and potentially could upset the precarious truce they had with Rome.  The Roman soldiers were more or less “just following orders”, which leads back to Pilate. 

Pontius Pilate is mentioned by name as having caused the suffering of Jesus in most of the creeds used by the Christian Church.  He certainly sat in judgement of Jesus, as he would have for any person questioning imperial authority in that region.  Pilate was appointed the prefect of Judaea by Roman Emperor Tiberius.  He was not particularly well-liked by either the Jewish people or the Samaritans (especially after his paganism and cruelty resulted in riots among both groups).  He also had to maintain Roman authority over the Jewish people, and the situation with Jesus put him in a no-win scenario.  The claim that Jesus was the “King of the Jews” was a direct challenge to Pilate and to Rome.  But Bach tips his hand and hints that Pilate isn’t the sole enemy with the line “from then on Pilate sought a way that he might release him”, as well as Pilate’s three separate statements of “I find no guilt on him” (a mirror image of Peter’s three denials).  Pilate chose to hide behind “the desires of the people” and literally washed his hands of the situation.  Certainly not a choice to be proud of, but not one that qualifies him to be the main antagonist.  In fact, a close look at the dialogue between Jesus, Pilate, and the mob reveals that Jesus himself is the one who keeps moving the story forward, at times providing answers and at times withholding them – Jesus is the one essentially in control of the outcome.

This is where the role of the passion story in Christianity becomes important.  Bach’s St. John Passion was premiered on April 7th (Good Friday), 1724 at the St. Nicholas Church in Leipzig.  It was originally designed to be performed in two halves with a sermon in the middle, and the chorales were specifically chosen from hymns that were frequently in use that the congregation would know and recognize.  The message of the passion in Christianity, massively oversimplified, is that Jesus took the punishment for the sins of everyone and in doing so conquered sin and death, leading to the resurrection celebrated on Easter.  It is the “everyone” that becomes relevant here, and this was the role Bach provided for the chorus.

While soloists take on specific identities (Jesus, Pilate, servants, etc.), the chorus fills in the rest.  The chorus could be the congregation of believers taking a step back and recognizing the spiritual significance of various events, as in the opening and closing choruses and the chorales.  The chorus spends a significant amount of time functioning as the mob in conversation with Pilate, refusing to disperse or be appeased until they have satisfied their own lust for blood.  To help illustrate this, most of the traditional labels of “aria, chorus, recitative” have been removed from these translations and replaced with the names of the characters from the story and the various roles the chorus is filling.  It is in the many identities of the chorus that the message of the St. John Passion becomes clear – the blame is not on the individuals but rather on the group, which includes anyone and everyone.  Bach’s performance would have included soloists who also sang choruses, as this one does, which further makes the point that everyone, from the main characters to the onlookers that would have joined the mob, is implicated in the outcome of the story. 

Stepping out of the Christian paradigm, the idea of shared culpability is not one that most people embrace willingly.  Modern culture encourages a view of “us vs. them” or “self vs. other” and provides a seemingly endless number of criteria for determining who is the “other”.  At the same time, both the story of the St. John Passion and the history of antisemitism in the text and translations of the gospel of John make it clear that identifying someone as “other” has fatal consequences.  Both history books and current events are full of the stories of people who have been determined to be “other” by a group with power.  The passion illustrates our shared culpability for those circumstances; the answer to “who is the enemy?” is quite plainly, “we are”.  At times we may have played any of the roles or inhabited any of the identities of the passion story – the message goes beyond any one belief system.  The question that remains for all of us at the end of the piece is then, “What am I going to do about it?”   

The Bach Project presents Reginald Mobley and Susanna Ogata

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a program of Bach for alto and violin soloists. This concert was presented by The Bach Project in conjunction with Ashmont Hill Chamber Music on October 2, 2022.

We like to picture artists as an endless fount of creativity, new ideas, and inspiration, but the reality is much less glamorous.  Art in every form takes a tremendous amount of work.  There are long dry spells of attempting to create without any results, deadlines looming with no inspiration in sight, and flurries of demand without enough work time.  There is no concept of “balance” in a creative life – one simply becomes better at riding the waves of activity – and Bach was a master at finding ways to keep the output flowing by changing what he was creating.

Bekennen will ich seinen Namen, BWV 200, is an arrangement Bach made of an aria by Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel.  Stölzel (1690-1749) was a contemporary of Bach and was also a prolific and extremely talented composer.  His output included five operas, twelve complete cantata cycles, two Christmas Oratorios, a significant amount of instrumental music, and many other works.  Perhaps the most famous connection between Bach and Stölzel is the piece “Bist du bei mir” previously attributed to Bach (it was included in the notebook for Anna Magdalena Bach) which is actually from Stölzel’s opera Diomedes. 

Bach knew Stölzel’s music well, especially the passion oratorio Ein Lämmlein geht und trägt die Schuld (also known by the libretto’s title Die leidende und am Kreuz sterbende Liebe).  Stölzel had premiered the work on Good Friday in 1720, and Bach would present it in Leipzig on Good Friday in 1734.  Not content with merely presenting Stölzel’s work, in 1742-43 Bach reworked a portion of it into Bekennen will ich seinen Namen, BWV 200.  The original aria, “Dein Kreuz, o Bräutgam meiner Seelen”, was scored for tenor soloist with oboe, violin, bassoon, and continuo.  Bach’s version exchanges the oboe for a second violin, omits the bassoon entirely, and reworks the piece for alto rather than tenor. 

Bach’s compositional borrowing wasn’t limited to the works of others.  He frequently borrowed from himself, both creating new versions of older pieces and also reworking older ideas into new compositions.  Many cantata arias were later transformed into movements of larger works (the masses and Christmas Oratorio, among others), and he would rewrite concerti to feature a new instrument based on the forces he had at hand.  In the case of the Violin Concerto No. 1 in A minor, BWV 1041, it would take on a second life as the Harpsichord Concerto No. 7 in G minor, BWV 1058. 

As much as we often think of Bach as a keyboard virtuoso, he was equally brilliant as a violinist and often led his ensembles from the violin rather than the keyboard.  During his time in Leipzig, he led a collegium comprised of a few professionals, a few university students, and some talented amateurs in weekly performances at Zimmerman’s coffee shop.  It was for this group that Bach composed a significant amount of secular instrumental repertoire, both reworking pieces from earlier times and also creating new compositions to highlight the strengths of the group.  Some suspect that this concerto was originally written during his earlier time in Köthen, while others date it after his move to Leipzig.  In any case, Bach likely premiered this concerto as the soloist leading the Leipzig collegium musicum. 

Perhaps no other form has remained as constant through history as the theme and variations.  Sei gegrüßet, Jesu gütig, BWV 768, is a chorale and eleven variations written by Bach while he was in Arnstadt around 1705.  The original composer of the hymn tune is unknown, but it was first published in 1682 as part of the Neu Leipziger Gesangbuch (New Leipzig Hymnal) compiled by Gottfried Vopelius, where it was paired with the “Sei gegrüßet” text by Christian Keimann.  Bach would reference this hymnal extensively in his later years in Leipzig.  In composing his Partite diverse sopra "Sei gegrüßet, Jesu gütig", Bach drew on the techniques he had learned from Georg Böhm while he was a student in Lüneburg, as well as the style of Buxtehude, whom he admired. 

While Bach had a well-paying job in Arnstadt at this time, as well as a fantastic organ, it appears he had difficulties “playing nice with others” (perhaps related to the fact he was only 18 when he started working at Arnstadt and 21 when he left).  He complained about the ability of the musicians with whom he worked, insulting one of them so severely that they had a physical altercation which had to be settled by the authorities.  He asked for four weeks of leave (to go hear Buxtehude) and ended up being gone for four months instead.  It seems that then, as now, perceived “genius” can sometimes be used as an excuse for bad behavior.

Fortunately, by the time Bach took on the large demands of the job in Leipzig, he had grown up a bit – he was now 38, had lost his first wife tragically and recently remarried, and been through the wringer with his employers in Weimar.  He wasn’t the first choice for the Leipzig job, so he came in with a need to prove himself.  The demands of the church year dominated the early part of Bach’s compositional life.  He took up the post of the Thomaskantor in May of 1723, which involved teaching in the school at St. Thomas Church and providing music for St. Thomas Church, St. Nicholas Church, the New Church, and St. Peter’s Church.  Over the course of his time in Leipzig, he composed some 300 church cantatas with most dating from his first three years there.

A cantata was intended to expand on the readings assigned to a certain liturgical day, so Bach’s text choices for each week were somewhat predetermined.  The message needed to align with the scriptural passages, Lutheran theology, and general idea of each service, thus providing Bach with guidelines in which to work.  Vergnügte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust, BWV 170 was premiered in July of 1726 for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity in the Lutheran liturgical calendar.  Bach wrote three cantatas for solo alto in 1726, likely all for the same singer.  This one focused on readings from the Gospel of Matthew and Paul’s epistle to the Romans which emphasized the role of sin in separating man from the divine.  In expanding those ideas, the cantata describes the only place one can find true peace – in heaven with God.

Without a doubt Bach was a genius, writing music that has endured for centuries no matter what variation and interpretation one might add to it.  At the same time, he was simply another skilled craftsman of his era.  He had issues getting along with people, he suffered loss, he had professional successes and setbacks, and his reputation was mixed among his peers.  Yet somehow looking at the realities of his life makes his enduring legacy even more exciting.  He was unquestionably talented, but he also went into the family business and received extensive schooling.  The musical treasures we enjoy are the product of an education and many decades of on-the-job training and working under pressure.  If Bach could do it, perhaps there are those among us who will be equally celebrated in the future.

The Bach Project - Singet dem Herrn

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a program of music by J.S. Bach presented by The Bach Project in conjunction with Ashmont Hill Chamber Music on May 15, 2022.

Disease and death were constant companions in the late 17th and early 18th centuries.  Bach lost both of his parents by the age of 10 and returned home from a trip to discover his first wife, Maria Barbara, had died and he was now a single father at the age of 35.  Over the course of his life, he buried 10 of his 20 children (3 from his first marriage and 7 from his second).  Lutheran theology from this time viewed death as a release from the torments and agony of worldly existence – something to yearn for rather than something to fear – which seems a practical approach given the turmoil and unpredictability of the time.

In 1714, Bach became Konzertmeister (behind the Kapellmeister and vice-Kapellmeister) for the court chapel of Dukes Wilhelm Ernst and Ernst August of Saxe-Weimar, and part of his duties included composing an occasional sacred cantata.  O heil’ger Geist- und Wasserbad, BWV 165, was first presented in 1715 for Trinity Sunday.  Bach would probably have led the performance from the violin, with a group of skilled professional court musicians and his own students providing organ continuo.  The libretto was by Salomo Franck, the court poet, and is based on the story of Nicodemus, specifically Jesus’ words to Nicodemus that “…except a man be born of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” (John 3:5).  The text set by Bach links the power and workings of the Holy Spirit with the sacrament of baptism, emphasizing the importance of both for the sanctification of the believer.  Especially interesting in the text is the imagery of the serpent, which contrasts the “alten Schlange” (the old serpent or the devil) with the bronze snake on a pole erected by Moses in the wilderness to save the Israelites from snakebite and finally with the “blutrotes Schlangenbild” (blood red serpent image) of Christ raised on the cross as a symbol of redemption.

The Harpsichord Concerto in A major, BWV 1055, probably began as a concerto for another instrument.  Some believe the earlier version was composed in Köthen (possibly around 1721) for oboe d’amore, or viola d’amore, or maybe even an unaccompanied work for solo keyboard.  Regardless of its early origins, the concerto in this form is the fourth harpsichord concerto of a set of six in an autograph score from roughly 1738, long after Bach’s move to Leipzig.  Unlike modern concerti which are written to showcase soloists with the orchestra in a supporting role, Bach’s harpsichord concerti function more as chamber music and require the soloist to fill the traditional role of continuo in between dazzling moments of soloistic virtuosity.

The Prelude and Fugue in C major, BWV 547, was probably written in Leipzig though there is great scholarly debate about exactly when.  Some date it as early as 1719 and others contend it was written in the 1740s and might have been Bach’s last organ work.  The joyful, lilting motion of the prelude contrasts with the more square, angular fugue subject, which Bach takes through an astounding number of variations in only 72 measures.  There has been a significant amount of scholarship devoted to analysis of the fugue as some consider it the peak of Bach’s contrapuntal prowess. 

In Leipzig, motets were sung as introits for church services and were generally chosen from 16th-century sources.  Because of this, Bach focused more on other sacred genres and rarely composed motets.  Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied, BWV 225, was probably first performed in Leipzig in 1727.   The text is taken from Psalm 149:1-3, verses 3-4 from "Nun lob, mein Seel, den Herren” by Johann Gramann, and Psalm 150:2, 6.  The exact occasion for this motet is unknown.  One possibility is the funeral for Christiane Eberhardine of Brandenburg-Bayreuth, Queen Consort of Poland who died in exile from the Polish Court after refusing to convert to Roman Catholicism.  Another may have been the city festival celebrating the birthday of her husband Augustus II, Elector of Saxony, King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, who visited Leipzig after recovering from an illness.  In any case, it remained in the repertoire at the Thomasschule after Bach’s death, and an oft-told story includes Mozart being so deeply inspired when he heard it in 1789 that he requested a copy of the score. 

Not only was Bach no stranger to death, he was also well-acquainted with the fragility of one’s livelihood.  By the time he arrived in Leipzig in 1723, he had already had well-documented disputes with his employers (even ending up in prison in Weimar) and would go on to have heated debates with the town council over working conditions, pay issues, employment terms, and all of the things musicians still find themselves negotiating for today.  Through all of that, Bach kept making music.  Many view this as some “grand artistic endeavor”, and perhaps it was, but it is equally possible that it was simply his job – the skill in which he had trained – and it was how he knew to express his creative energy and support his family.  He found ways to keep going, with breaks for disease, death, employment drama, marriage, children, work trips, etc., and perhaps that’s the greatest message for all of us – to keep going, and preferably to keep making good music.

Elise Groves, May 2022

The Bach Project - Most Loved Solo Instrumental Music

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a program of Bach works for solo cello, harpsichord, and organ presented by The Bach Project in conjunction with Ashmont Hill Chamber Music on May 16, 2021.

What do you do when that thing you have been trained to do and are highly skilled at is suddenly not available, extremely difficult, or even prohibited?  For the last 14 months, musicians the world over have been struggling with this exact question.  Should they wait it out, hoping that mass vaccination will work, audiences will return, and the institutions that once nurtured a musical culture will continue to do so?  Should they find a new way to make a living and abandon music entirely?  

1717 was a challenging year for 32-year-old Bach.  After five years in Weimar, Bach found himself caught in the crossfire between Wilhelm Ernst and his nephew Ernst August, dukes of Saxe-Weimar.  Bach was successful in obtaining a new position in Köthen but Duke Wilhelm refused to release Bach from his employment in Weimar, even going so far as to imprison him for a month before dismissing him in disgrace.  The move to Köthen was an improvement for Bach and his family, but his new employer was a Calvinist and had no need for Bach’s talents as a composer of music for Lutheran services.  Bach had taken the job deliberately – Leopold, Prince of Anhalt-Köthen was a musician himself and held Bach in great esteem, religious differences notwithstanding – but Bach would have to take a hiatus from sacred composition.  

The suites for cello were probably composed during his first few years in Köthen and are among the best-known instrumental works of Bach, largely due to the recordings of Pablo Casals.  From our soloist:  

The key of E flat is not the friendliest key for the cello; in fact, of all 6 of Bach’s cello suites, the Suite No. 4 in E-flat major, BWV 1010 is the LEAST friendly in terms of how the music sits on the instrument! There’s something really special about hearing qualities of grace, joy, and wild abandon emerge from all the effort that goes into wrangling the instrument in this key. There’s also a pathos to the more dissonant, pleading, brooding moments of the work, that resonates with an especially dark timbre in this key. I see these qualities as a metaphor for great beauty emerging from a tumultuous and difficult time.  I find this piece to be full of bold optimism, and it this quality that made me think it might provide a bright moment for listeners as we emerge from a challenging time period and welcome Spring.  I hope that hearing this work performed at this moment in time can be a moment of cleansing and catharsis, a meditation on this new moment after all that we’ve endured and overcome this past year.                                                                                                            -- Shirley Hunt, cellist

In the absence of any required compositions for the church, Bach’s compositional energies during this time were spent on secular music.  He immersed himself in instrumental genres for both ensembles and soloists with a special focus on the dance suite.  The dance suites of Bach’s era were a hybrid of earlier French court entertainment and the requirements of publishers who had their own opinions about the order of movements and would rearrange them regardless of the composer’s intentions.  Because of this, Bach wrote his suites in “publisher standard” order.  The core of the dance suite was the Allemande, Courante, Sarabande, and Gigue, with composers generally adding one of several optional dances before the concluding Gigue.

Lest we think that Bach made a simple “pivot” in his musical career and carried on with no problems, his six years in Köthen were marked by significant upheaval.  In 1720 Bach returned from a two-month trip with his employer to discover his wife Maria Barbara had died and already been buried.  Bach was now a single father with four children.  He married Anna Magdalena in 1721, and thus began a partnership that would prove beneficial for both Bach and for us – not only is our knowledge of the cello suites a direct result of a handwritten copy she made, the first few measures of the Suite No. 5 in G major, BWV 816 were written for her.  The label “French” for this set of suites was not used in Bach’s lifetime, and mainly serves to distinguish them from his “English” suites and the partitas.  Neither the French nor English suites are particularly “French” or “English”, and in fact the Suite No. 5 could be the most Italianate of all of them.  Each of the dances in a suite had a different national origin as well, giving the dance suite a truly cosmopolitan flavor.  Everything about this suite expresses optimism, happiness, and a freshness of perspective.  Bach’s choice of G major also reflects the joy that he found with Anna Magdalena:

“Everything rustic, idyllic, and lyrical, every calm and satisfied passion, every tender gratitude for true friendship and faithful love, - in a word every gentle and peaceful emotion the heart is correctly expressed by this key.” 

– Ideen zu einer Aesthetic der Tonkunst by Christian Schubart, translated by Rita Steblin.

            It was a very different Bach who took up the position in Leipzig in 1723 at the age of 38.  The time in Köthen had taken its toll.  He had been widowed, remarried, welcomed and lost children, been highly esteemed and then shut out because of court politics.  Despite these difficulties, Bach had cause for optimism.  The appointment in Leipzig returned him to the world of sacred music.  As the Thomaskantor, he directed the school at St. Thomas Church, which provided music for four churches in the city of Leipzig.  Leipzig was a merchant city, and Bach answered to the town council rather than to a prince (or two feuding dukes).  This period in his life would have its share of drama, employment woes, and professional successes (par for the course in the life of any musician) but would be more stable than either Weimar or Köthen.

In the late 1720s, Bach reworked many of his prior compositions and compiled them into a collection of six sonatas for organ.  Part technique study and pedagogical tool, they were probably intended for his eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann, whose transcription of them was completed by Anna Magdalena, but were played by many of Bach’s students.  The trio sonata was originally a genre featuring two solo instruments with continuo accompaniment, but in the Trio Sonata No. 4 in E minor, BWV 528 as well as the other organ trio sonatas, Bach assigns all three parts to the organist, intending for the two solo lines to be a dialogue between the organist’s hands while their feet provide the continuo.  The “Little” Fugue in G minor, BWV 578 was written much earlier in Bach’s life when he was working in Arnstadt between 1703-1707.  One of his best-known pieces, it has been transcribed for orchestra, brass quintet, wind band, and many other combinations.  The fugue subject is both simple and also infectious – many a musician has suffered with this as an “earworm”.  

For many musicians, as small children we are taken with the idea of being the soloist – the soloist is the one who captures the attention on stage and what child doesn’t wish to be the center of attention from time to time?  Much of our training is soloistic in nature, since we not only learn solo repertoire for our specific instrument but also since the hours of practicing are usually a solitary pursuit.  It is only later that we learn the joys of ensemble performing – making music with friends and colleagues, being a part of something greater than what one can achieve alone – and for many that becomes a parallel part of their career.  

In the past year, however, we have found ourselves alone again.  With most ensemble performances either too logistically challenging, expensive, and/or potentially unsafe to organize, solo performing has been our refuge.  Unlike ensemble music which provides us with access to that which is beyond the individual, solo music provides the opportunity for introspection, taking us on a personal journey through our own highs and lows.  It has been our way to create art and beauty amidst significant loss.  We look forward to returning to a mix of solo and ensemble performances next season and we hope you will join us in person then!

 

Elise Groves, May 2021

Every Voice 2020

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a program celebrating women in music, specifically Women of Boston, Women of Color, and Queer Women. This program was presented online by The Handel and Haydn Society on November 8, 2020.

What makes a piece of music “good”? 
Is it that it has a good melody or a catchy rhythm? Is it that the performance was moving to everyone who heard it? Is it that other people (or people in authority) say it is good?

What makes a piece popular? 
Is it that the piece is “good”? Is it that something about it is memorable? Is it that it has been played many times and is therefore familiar?

The beautiful thing is that the world of music makes room for all of these. There is a time for pieces that are familiar and also for pieces that are new. There is enough space for moving performances, good melodies, catchy rhythms, rituals that are comforting (especially in difficult times) and opportunities for something unfamiliar and exciting. The canon of western classical music has extended these privileges to geniuses like Bach, Vivaldi, Handel, Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, Brahms, and countless others, but when it comes to the world of women composers, “unfamiliar and exciting” is too often the norm. Separating composers into categories by gender can serve the positive purpose of praising them and highlighting their accomplishments (as is the goal of this program), but too often such separation removes the work of women from the central narratives of classical music. When this happens, their work loses its musical worth and retains value only as a side story to the accomplishments of those who fit mainstream expectations. Unlike the 19th Amendment, which only extended voting rights to a certain “acceptable” group of women, it is time to fully include all womxn in the story. Every composer presented here is a master of her own style and a tremendous force of genius. They represent different times, different traditions, and different voices, and without them the musical world is incomplete.

Isabella Leonarda (1620-1704) was born into a noble family in Novara, Italy in 1620, making 2020 her 400th anniversary year. She entered the Collegio di S Orsola, an Ursuline convent, in 1636 where she went on to hold positions as music instructor, mother superior, and counsellor for her community. At a time when women were more frequently known as performers, Leonarda received wide-spread acclaim as a composer. She gained particular recognition for being the first woman to publish instrumental sonatas (in 1693), but her published works include examples of nearly every sacred genre of the time. With about 200 compositions dating from 1640 all the way to 1700, her works clearly demonstrate her tremendous versatility and mastery of the different styles prevalent in Italy during that period. “Venite laetantes” from Motetti a voce sola con istromenti, Op. 20 was published in 1700. A reworking for alto of an earlier piece for solo soprano published in 1687, Leonarda’s solo motets borrow stylistically from secular genres and provide more dramatic opportunities for the performer than her other liturgical works. This unique first-person Marian text (likely written by Leonarda herself) welcomes the faithful, promising them peace and heavenly delight.

Composer and singer Mari Esabel Valverde (b. 1987) is fascinated with how ink on a page can be reinterpreted into a world of sound. She began composing in the eighth grade, later studying at St. Olaf College, the European American Musical Alliance in Paris, and the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Primarily known for her choral music and art songs, her works explore social justice and contemporary issues. Prélude en la-bémol majeur: Allegretto, léger, en volant (Prelude in A-Flat Major: Allegretto, lightly, flying) was composed as part of a project for the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Her mentor, David Conte, asked composers who were also his former students to write reflections/responses to the Chopin preludes. The title is in French, reflecting both the link to Chopin and also the great affection Valverde holds for the French Impressionistic school – an obsession with Debussy’s Première Arabesque inspired her to teach herself to play the piano. In composing this piece, she sought to reflect the mood and shapes of the Chopin Prelude in A-Flat, essentially presenting her version of that same story.

With the unwavering support of her mother, Zenobia Powell Perry (1908-2004) pursued a career in music, first studying with William L. Dawson at the Tuskegee Institute and later with Darius Milhaud at Wyoming University. Homage was dedicated to her former teacher, William L. Dawson, on the occasion of his 90th birthday in 1990, and was the last piece Perry wrote for piano. Incorporating the spiritual “I’ve been ‘buked and I’ve been scorned” (Dawson’s favorite spiritual tune), the piece weaves together Perry’s masterful style with the rich traditions of the spiritual which were an influence on her from an early age. With a theme of persistence in the face of unthinkable difficulty, the piece is a tribute to the important mentoring relationship between teachers and students as well as all who encourage others on their creative journey.

Conductor, singer, and composer Zanaida Stewart Robles (b. 1979) is a fierce advocate for diversity and inclusion in music education and performance. Born, raised, and educated in Southern California, she is on the national board of the National Association of Negro Musicians, and is chair of the board of directors of Tonality, a non-profit organization that promotes peace, unity, and social justice through choral music performance in Los Angeles. “Kuumba,” like “Umoja” from last year’s Every Voice program, is from a set of songs which reflect on the principles of Kwanzaa – kuumba describes creativity or creation, while umoja describes unity. The creator of Kwanzaa, Dr. Maulana Karanga, defines the principle of kuumba as the need “…to do always as much as we can, in the way we can, in order to leave our community more beautiful and beneficial than we inherited it.” In this season of tremendous upheaval, Concert Choir has adopted kuumba as a mantra, reminding the singers, audience, and the greater community that creativity remains as vibrant as ever, regardless of external circumstances. In composing “Kuumba,” Dr. Robles first taught the underlying theme to the congregation of her church. While the entire congregation was singing this ostinato, members were encouraged to improvise a melody if they felt moved to do so. The solo line in the Concert Choir’s performance is a transcription of the improvisation from that day. In a different setting, the score calls for singers to improvise a solo line to fit the moment of performance, making “Kuumba” an overwhelming celebration of creativity and community.

The idea of creation or creativity is often depicted as being feminine/female, sometimes in contrast with the masculine/male representing destruction or aggression. In presenting this program of female composers, we are celebrating this triumphant spirit of creativity – one that persists in the face of restrictions, limitations, and prohibitions, and one that is not limited to any one people, gender, genre, or medium. It is the same creative spirit that inspires great painters, sculptors, architects, dancers, musicians, actors, writers, and composers, and the same creative spirit whether it appears in the works of J.S. Bach and George Frideric Handel or those of Amy Beech and Florence Price.

In June of 1933 the Chicago Symphony Orchestra premiered a new symphony which had won a recent competition and been praised by critics. In that moment, Florence Price (1887-1953) became the first Black woman to be recognized as a symphonic composer and also the first to have an orchestral work performed by a major symphony orchestra. Originally from Arkansas, Price studied at the New England Conservatory before eventually moving to Chicago. Her compositions began to win awards in the 1920s and after the Chicago Symphony Orchestra premiere she gained further recognition when her arrangement of “My soul’s been anchored in de Lord” and “Song to the Dark Virgin” were performed by Marian Anderson. In addition to her classical compositions, she played for silent films, wrote popular music for commercials, and made orchestral arrangements for the WGN Radio Orchestra in Chicago. Her unique compositional voice, a perfect hybrid of the European classical style and Black American musical traditions, provides a glimpse of what might have been if the American classical style had developed without further European influence. The three songs on this program (“A White Rose,” “Out of the South Blew a Wind,” and “Song to the Dark Virgin”) are taken from her extensive collection of art songs and demonstrate her exquisite artistry – every note means something, nothing is out of place, and the most is made of every moment from the beginning of the piece to the end.

The extraordinary talents of Amy Beach (1867-1944) were obvious early in her childhood and her affluent family ensured that she was supported and surrounded by those who could nurture and guide her. She made her debut as a pianist with the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 1885 playing Chopin’s F Minor Concerto, but after her marriage to Henry Harris Aubrey Beach she followed the wishes of her husband and focused on composition rather than performance. Her works were premiered by the Handel and Haydn Society and Boston Symphony Orchestra, among others, and almost all of them were published, including her multitudes of commissioned works for various ensembles. After her husband’s death in 1910 she returned to her path as a performer, using recital appearances to establish her reputation and support the sale of her compositions both in America and in Europe. The Five Improvisations, Op. 148 were written in 1938 while she was living at the MacDowell Colony in New Hampshire and are some of her most adventurous writing, exploring atonality while still remaining true to the lyric style she developed composing art songs early in her career.

We are living in a season of limitations – limits on gatherings, on travel, on contact with others, on the ability of musicians (and others in the arts, entertainment, and hospitality industries) to continue working, on purchasing everyday items at the store, on living our lives as we ordinarily would – and all of this because of circumstances beyond our control. In a way, there is no better time than now to explore the world of female composers for that is also a story of limitation and restriction, of minimization and erasure. We look forward to presenting the full program, including works by Ethel Smyth, Juana Inez de la Cruz, Margaret Bonds, and nine other exceptional women at some point in the future. In the meantime, we offer this as a unique moment to reflect on the consequences of limitations on our greater community. Not only is this an important moment and opportunity to make change, we have a tremendous obligation to do so. We cannot move forward unless we all move forward together.

In this spirit, “Lift Every Voice and Sing” closes this year’s Every Voice program, as it has since the beginning. Written by James Weldon Johnson and set to music by his brother J. Rosamond Johnson, the NAACP adopted the song as the Black National Anthem shortly after its composition. It was premiered by a choir of 500 schoolchildren as part of a celebration of Lincoln’s birthday in Jacksonville, Florida in 1900, and is presented here as a call for us to share a moment of unity, joining with the struggle of those voices represented by this program to seek a better future together.

 Elise Groves, November 2020

Information drawn from Grove Music Online, the websites of Zanaida Stewart Robles, Mari Esabel Valverde, and Jeannie Gayle Pool (Zenobia Powell Perry’s biographer), as well as interviews with Reginald Mobley, Jennifer Kane, Julia Scott Carey, and Mari Esabel Valverde

The Bach Project presents Dashon Burton - Bach Cantatas for Solo Bass

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a program of Bach Cantatas for Solo Bass (BWV 82 and BWV 158) along with works for solo violin and solo organ. This concert was presented by The Bach Project in conjunction with Ashmont Hill Chamber Music on September 22, 2019.

In 1708, 23-year-old Johann Sebastian Bach took up a court position in Weimar. He had previously worked there for a few months shortly after graduating from St. Michael’s School in Lüneburg, so it was known territory, the pay was good, and everything seemed to be going well. He had married Maria Barbara the year before and their first child would be born only a few months after the move to Weimar, soon to be followed by six more. This was also a fruitful time for Bach’s career. Though he had been hired as a court organist, he was eventually promoted to Konzertmeister, which gave him access to a large, well-funded group of professional musicians. He had the freedom to travel to nearby towns to assist with organ improvement projects and build relationships with local organists and builders. During this period, Bach’s reputation as an organist somewhat overshadowed his talents as a composer.

The majority of Bach’s organ music was probably composed while he was in Weimar, including the Fantasia in G major, BWV 572. Known alternatively as “Pièce d’Orgue”, the Fantasia showcases Bach’s talent in developing repertoire uniquely suited to the organ. Essentially a study in “what goes up must come down”, Bach takes the element of the ascending scale and transforms it into a mini-masterpiece, paired with descending scales, florid arpeggios, and dramatic pedal-point. Bach spent a significant amount of time studying and transcribing the works of his contemporaries, particularly those from other countries. In doing so, he adapted elements that he liked into his own style. While scholars debate exactly how “French” BWV 572 is, Bach did transcribe de Grigny’s Premier livre d’orgue (First book of organ music) in 1713 while living in Weimar and was well acquainted with the French organ tradition.

Bach’s interest in French organ music wasn’t his only foray into international styles. He was especially drawn to Italian music, particularly the concerti of Corelli and Vivaldi. Bach’s father had been his first violin teacher, and while he was known primarily as an organist, his talents as a violinist were not far behind. Though Bach wouldn’t publish the Violin Sonata No. 1 in G minor, BWV 1001 until 1720 (with the complete Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin), he likely began working on it while he was in Weimar. From our soloist:

“Bach’s groundbreaking sonatas for unaccompanied violin combine ideas drawn from violin works by his German and Italian predecessors with his unmatched skill for polyphonic keyboard writing—including the fugue. The fugues he conceived for violin “senza Basso” were of unprecedented complexity for the instrument of the Baroque period, pushing its polyphonic capabilities to extremes. As an accomplished violinist, Bach was ambitious with the technical challenges he presented to the player to execute intricate imitative counterpoint and interpret the dramatic development of a musical form typically written for the multi-voiced pipe organ. Transcriptions of the G minor fugue include Bach’s own arrangement for lute, as well as a reworking for organ, known as the Prelude and “Fiddle Fugue” in D minor.

For this performance, a replica of a violin from Stradivari’s Golden period made in 1990 by John Widelski, and an early Baroque model bow made by David Hawthorne in 2003 will be played. The thicker, more resistant gut strings and lower tension neck-set of the period model violin, together with the short model bow with a convex stick that was prevalent before 1720 serve to help recreate the sound of the violin as Bach knew it.” – Julia McKenzie

After Bach’s promotion to Konzertmeister in 1714, he turned his compositional energies more toward cantatas. His new position required that he “perform a piece of his own composition under his own direction, in the chapel of the royal castle, on every fourth Sunday at all seasons.” The exact origins of Der Friede sei mit dir, BWV 158 are somewhat unclear, but portions of it likely originated from this period in Weimar. The source materials indicate that the first and last movements may have been added later when it was revised to be used on the Tuesday after Easter (hence all the Holy Week imagery in the text). But the middle two movements are quite different and may have originally been part of a larger work for the Feast of the Purification of Mary.

The Feast of the Purification (also known as The Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple, or Candlemas) centers around the story of Simeon and the moment in which he met the infant Jesus. From Luke 2:

And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon, and this man was just and devout, waiting for the Consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.  So he came by the Spirit into the temple. And when the parents brought in the Child Jesus, to do for Him according to the custom of the law, he took Him up in his arms and blessed God and said:

“Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace,

According to Your word;

For my eyes have seen Your salvation

Which You have prepared before the face of all peoples,

A light to bring revelation to the Gentiles,

And the glory of Your people Israel.”

And Joseph and His mother marveled at those things which were spoken of Him. Then Simeon blessed them, and said to Mary His mother, “Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against  (yes, a sword will pierce through your own soul also), that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

From that passage, verses 29-32 are referred to as the Nunc Dimittis (the first two words of Simeon in Latin) and became an integral part of the Catholic liturgy, appearing every night in the service of Compline as well as other services throughout the church year.

Ich habe genug, BWV 82 was also written for the Feast of the Purification, but its origins are much more clear. It was premiered on February 2, 1727 at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig. Arguably one of the best known of all of Bach’s cantatas, BWV 82 was highly regarded by Bach himself. He revised it several times after the premier, creating versions for soprano and mezzo-soprano, as well as a revised version for bass.

Death was an ever-present companion in 18th-century life; Bach had been orphaned at age ten, and of his twenty children, only ten of them survived to adulthood. The German church viewed death as the fulfillment of the human experience whereby the soul was finally reconciled to God and free from the torments of earthly life. Just as Simeon could now die peacefully, knowing that God had been faithful after he saw the fulfillment of the promises God had made to him, these cantatas encourage the believer to not fear death but to find peace in its release.

The Bach Project II - Music for Bach's Favorite Instruments

These program notes were written by Elise Groves for a program of solo Bach works for cello, harpsichord, and organ presented by The Bach Project on May 12, 2019.

Of all the music of J.S. Bach, perhaps none of it has fascinated researchers, performers, and audiences as much as the six suites for unaccompanied cello. Much of their popularity in the 20th and 21st centuries is due to the influence and work of Pablo Casals, who performed and recorded all six suites in the 1930s, bringing them back into the public eye (and ear). But even before that they captured the attention of performers and composers alike. The suites have been transcribed for solo instruments from violin to tuba to saxophone to ukulele. Robert Schumann wrote piano accompaniments for them. Bach himself transcribed the fifth suite for lute.

Yet some of the most magical qualities of the cello suites are the things that Bach implied but never stated – the harmonies suggested by the shapes of the melody, the polyphonic motion and counterpoint that seem to be there to listeners but are nowhere to be found on the page – and these are the things that are frequently lost in transcriptions, accompaniments, and orchestrations. Suite No. 3 in C Major, BWV 1009 in particular shows a unique side of Bach with its energy and athleticism. Always pushing the boundaries of what was possible for a particular instrument, Bach brings his talents as a keyboard player to the cello, especially in the Prelude with its scattered pauses and dense chords.

The cello suites were probably composed between 1717-1723 while Bach was living and working in Köthen for Leopold, Prince of Anhalt-Köthen. Prince Leopold was a musician and had great respect for Bach’s abilities despite the fact that, as a Calvinist, the prince did not have a need for his talents as a composer of sacred (Lutheran) music. Without the pressure to provide new music for weekly church services, Bach was free to focus on secular composition, especially instrumental genres.

The dance suite was popular in the 16th and 17th centuries, especially among the French for whom dance was an important part of court entertainment. It usually consisted of a prelude or overture followed by a number of different movements, each based on a different baroque dance with specific requirements for mood, tempo, and metric pattern. The prelude was originally intended to be improvisatory; some preludes were simply an indication of a sequence of chords and it was up to the performer to improvise a melodic part and appropriately set the mood for the dances that were to follow. The order of the dances varied widely from composer to composer and suite to suite, but by the end of the 17th century this had been standardized by publishers, who would rearrange movements to fit their own idea of appropriate order regardless of what composers had intended. By Bach’s time, composers had mostly conformed to the order set by publishers.

Though Bach devoted significant attention to the dance suite while he was living in Köthen, it wasn’t his first foray into the genre. The Suite in E minor, BWV 996 most likely dates from 1708-1717 while Bach was living in Weimar and working as organist and chamber musician for Wilhelm Ernst and his nephew Ernst August, the dukes of Saxe-Weimar. This was a fruitful time for Bach – he was working with a large, well-funded group of professional musicians in the court and he and his first wife Maria Barbara welcomed several children, including Carl Philipp Emanuel and Wilhelm Friedemann. It was also during this time in Weimar that Bach began to write the preludes and fugues that were later compiled into The Well-Tempered Clavier.

The instrument Bach had in mind for this suite is a subject of much debate. Some believe that the writing is best suited to lute, while others argue that, being a keyboardist, Bach would have played all his lute pieces on the harpsichord. Arguments over the details of lute construction, baroque tuning systems, harpsichord textures, and Bach’s tendency to write his lute music in score rather than in tablature make for fascinating reading for those who care about such things but yield few answers. The name “Lautenwerck” comes from an unidentified annotation in a collection of one of Bach’s students. The lautenwerck was a keyboard instrument similar in construction to a harpsichord, but with gut strings rather than metal. Bach owned two lautenwercks at the time of his death, so it is possible that this instrument – played as a keyboard but with the mellower sound of the lute – would have been the ideal compromise.

The trio sonata was another common Baroque instrumental genre, usually performed by two solo instruments and continuo. In the case of the Trio Sonata in E-flat major, BWV 525, Bach assigned all three parts to the organist. The collection of trio sonatas for organ was compiled in the late 1720s after Bach’s final move to Leipzig. They were likely intended as pedagogical exercises for his eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann. Though these pieces were intended to strengthen technique, they are also beautiful works of art in their own right and are considered by some to be among Bach’s most difficult organ compositions. Always one with an eye for symbolism, Bach imbued this particular sonata with a dose of “three”: three parts for the organist to play (two manuals and pedal), three movements, and three flats in the key signature.

Unlike the trio sonatas, which represent some of Bach’s later instrumental music, the Passacaglia and Fugue in C minor, BWV 582 was written early in Bach’s career, sometime between 1706-1713. At its heart, a passacaglia is just a theme and variations – a common musical form throughout history. Early in the Baroque era, the passacaglia was a general harmonic progression, and performances were a combination of improvisation and composed variations. By the time the passacaglia made it to Bach’s hands, it had become a basso ostinato – a repeated bass line over which variations are played. In an early instance of “go big or go home”, Bach wrote 21 variations and then, deciding that a final variation was not a strong enough ending, followed the variations with a massive double fugue using the first half of the passacaglia ostinato as the first subject of the fugue.

When looking at Bach through the lens of his secular music, it is easier to see his ego, temper, and complicated personality. Bach had his share of struggles – he was fired, rejected for jobs, ghosted by potential employers, saddled with difficult working conditions, frequently not paid for his work, and suffered significant personal loss – not that different from the challenges faced by many musicians today.