b.17) is in the tonic, perhaps a reflexion of the fact that the answer is more in the tonic than the subject itself. The second half visits the relative minor, and has a long tonic reprise from b.26. Within this binary framework there is also a reference to a kind of ternary structure based on the Vivaldi concerto allegro plan. Thus, the cantus entry of the answer at b.11 has little to do with such anomalous terms as ‘redundant entry’, but a lot to do with Vivaldi’s tendency in the Op.3 concertos to have, after the opening ritornello, a short solo break which stays in the tonic, then a repeat of all or part of the ritornello, again in the tonic; then to start the same solo break again, but extend it into a modu- lation (see Chapter 4 section 11). This is just what happens here, with the first solo break equivalent beginning at b.8, and beginning again in the second half of b.12, but continuing into a modulation to C minor.
The reprise in this case re-runs the events of the opening section in reverse: the bass entry of the answer at b.26 corresponds to the cantus entry at b.11; and the cantus entry of the subject at b.29 corresponds to the bass entry at b.6. In the exposition, the non-modulating alto answer at b.3 was a pale imitation of the modulating subject. Bach as usual makes a virtue of limitation, first by converting it into a curious, jokey, chromatically warped version in C minor at b.17, and finally in the alto entry at b.34, corresponding to b.3, by exploiting the rhetorical potential of the rest, together with the chromatic step, in a way which recalls the similar moment at the end of the C minor fugue. This mirror symmetry is enhanced by Bach’s characteristic structural use of pitch levels and texture, with the concentration on the top octave of the keyboard at bb.4–5 balanced by the concentration on the bottom octave at bb.32–3.
Prelude and Fugue in E flat/D sharp minor BWV 853
In the same year as Bach dated the autograph copy of Book I (1722) Rameau published a listing of keys that demonstrates how keys on the semitonia were then regarded. For minor keys, the extreme sharp end is D sharp, and the extreme flat end is E flat. Both keys are given, and this is the interchange point. Major keys, on the other hand, go as far as A flat, then change to C sharp, F sharp, and so on. This is precisely the way Bach thought of these keys, on the evidence of The Well-tempered Clavier, and is no doubt based on the way the
semitonia were thought of in traditional tuning systems. The policy in some old
editions of transposing this fugue and other pieces in the sharpest keys into the equivalent flat ones is a historical falsification. Given the ambiguity of the keynote, there is a theoretical logic in having both keys represented. There is also a practical reason in that there is very strong evidence that the fugue was originally in D minor, and was transposed simply by altering the key signature.
There is no real evidence that the prelude was conceived in anyother key than E flat minor. The only possible hint is in b.29, where Bach in the autograph used a sharp sign for the first g'
♮
, which might imply that he was trans- posing from an E minor original. But he reverted to the natural sign at the end of the bar, and in any case this bar comes from the additions in the final version, when the collection was being assembled in its present form, so it is unlikely that this piece was conceived other than in its present key (see KB V/6.1 p.188).It certainly has the feeling of exploring a remote key, and therefore a rarefied expressive world, a feeling that has communicated itself to many.65 It opens with another version of the harmonic formula used in the C major and minor and D minor preludes, but how different is the effect! There are also similari- ties to the prelude in the other remote flat key, B flat minor. In the Clavier-
Büchlein the E flat minor continues the sequence of preludes in more advanced
keys, following C sharp minor, and seems to share a similar technical aim, not in the sense of finger technique, but in the technique of expressive projection, which on the harpsichord is largely a matter of rhythm. The C sharp minor prelude was concerned with preserving the integrity of a characteristic rhythm in a complex texture, and with moulding the rhythm to project the expressive shape of the piece. The E flat minor is concerned with the freedom of projecting highly florid and expressive lines against a background of steady repeated chords in, as Landowska says, ‘columns of arpeggios striking the three beats from the opening to the closing measures’ (1965 p.186). The art is to find that subtle balance of discipline and freedom where rhetoric and expression can grip. The freedom of decorative line is represented graphically in the autograph by having long groups of semiquavers beamed together (reflected in the editions of Dürr and Jones; most older editions, including those of Kroll and Dehnhard, divide them into groups of four).
This is another place in Book I where a slightly unequal temperament makes a palpable contribution. The sour effect of a wide major 3rd on the g'
♭
in the first chord, particularly in this part of the keyboard, adds a chilling bleakness to the sound world of the opening, resolved onto warm E flat major chords in a rich, low register from b.37.This prelude is such a sophisticated working of its stylistic references that they are not immediately obvious. Sarabandes and French overtures hardly come into it. One rather romantic suggestion is that it is a lament for Bach’s first wife, Maria Barbara, who died in July 1720 (P. Badura-Skoda 1993 p.215). Whatever one thinks of such biographical speculations, there is no doubt that this prelude has something of the character of a tombeau, whose features are very flat keys, dotted rhythms, and tiratas. The reference is, however, oblique: Arnold Dolmetsch’s suggestion of overdotting would be ruinous to the expres- sion of this piece; Badura-Skoda’s interpretation of a slight swinging of the quavers in the manner of notes inégales is obviously what is required.66 The
cultivation of a convincing elasticity of rhythm is one of the objects of the piece. The primary references are to two manners in Venetian concerto slow movements. The first is of a cushion accompaniment of repeated chords in the upper strings, supporting a florid solo melody, of which there are several examples in Bach’s concerto arrangements (BWV 972, 974). In adapting this prototype in an original keyboard piece Bach is not limited to a particular tessi- tura for the florid solo, so he makes it range expressively all over the keyboard. The other prototype is represented by the Largo of Vivaldi’s Op.3 No.3 (arranged as BWV 978) where full chords alternate with solo flourishes (see C. Wolff 1991 p.77). This principle can be moulded expressively, as Vivaldi does, by varying the lengths of chord groups, or solo flourishes, and the climax is made by combining both elements. Bach uses these elements in this prelude, but simultaneously, and they are much more cogently extended and developed than by Vivaldi. It is particularly instructive to see how Bach extended the emotional range of the piece, and its range of significant pitches, in the final version. As in the C sharp minor prelude, the second page touches the extremes of the keyboard: the ornamental top c"' added in b.28 is answered by the dramatic descent to bottom D
♮
added in bb.32–5.Another improvement in the final version is the thinning out of some of the chords in bb.1–7, making a more subtle transition from melody to accompa- niment. The difference must nonetheless be felt: the g"
♭
on the second beat of b.4 was originally the top note of a chord and is therefore accompaniment, following a conventional tierce coulée melodic phrase-ending (compare b.8).67 The placing of this note is therefore important. The ability to project on a single-manual harpsichord the subtleties of where functions merge and where they do not belongs to the more advanced reaches of performance. Details of notation are not always significant, but the notation of the turn in b.13 and the semiquavers in b.29 have given rise to comment. In b.13 Bach’s intention is quite clear in the final revision of the autograph (q.—q––––q–––––q––––q––q) which is perfectly clear as a turn with a delay before it and a slight pause on the last note. Stan- dard notation is not equal to this, and no edition reflects it accurately. In b.29 it has been asked why Bach wrote the semiquavers after a dot here, but after a tie in the next bar (Shedlock 1883 p.595). The answer is that the semiquavers in b.29 are a written-out ornament, often notated with a little ‘u’ sign, and should therefore be played as an ornament, as should the last two semiquavers of this bar which probably form the termination of an interrupted trill, as in the E minor prelude. The semiquavers in the following bar are thematic.Bach was generally sparing of ornament signs in his manuscript keyboard works, and this piece is one of the most richly provided. There are, however, ornaments in other sources (notably P 202 and P 203) which could be added (Ex.7.12). The mordent on the first cantus note is particularly important since it shows that this note is the beginning of the melody, not just part of a chord.
180 Book I
The most important ornament in this piece is the arpeggiation sign and, taking the most important sources as a whole, there is hardly a chord in the piece which does not have one. Information about the treatment of arpeggia- tion is both enigmatic and disturbing. Since arpeggiating chords is a normal part of harpsichord technique needing no special sign, an arpeggiation sign in itself generally means a deliberate, even rhythmic, effect, rather than just a quick spread, and is explained as such in virtually all tables of ornaments that deal with it. A refinement of this has been pointed out by Hans Klotz: that the direction of the spreads was carefully notated by French harpsichordists such as Chambonnières (c.1670) and especially François Couperin (1713). Couperin notated the direction of the spreads by means of a little hook at the top or bottom of the wavy line, depending on whether he wished the chord to be arpeggiated down or up. There is no denying that some of Bach’s arpeggiation signs have a very definite right hook at the lower end indicating, according to Klotz, an upward spread. Where there is no such hook he supposes a down- ward spread (Klotz 1984 pp.169–71). Klotz cites a number of ornament tables, but not the one which is probably the most relevant, and which strongly supports his case, in the Andreas Bach Book (c.1707–c.1718; Ex.7.13).68 Ex.7.12 Prelude in E flat minor with cantus ornaments from various sources, bars 1–4.
The musicological evidence is impressive. No edition reflects Bach’s nota- tion in this respect and anybody wishing to investigate it will have to consult the facsimile of the autograph. Any assessment must involve a direct, personal feeling for Bach’s handwriting that a printed interpretation can only falsify. Some interesting and plausible points emerge: for example that the second-beat chord in b.28 is to be spread down, and the third-beat chord up. On the other hand, the chord at the beginning of b.35 is by this token to be spread down, which detracts from the dramatic effect of the low D
♮
, and also from the importance of the c"♭
as leader into the right-hand cadenza passage in the rest of the bar. Players must decide for themselves. My own feeling is that, given the sensitivity to mood and effect in other aspects of the notation, the rigorous application of this principle introduces an illogical fussiness which is not supported by the cursory nature of Bach’s ornament signs, and which under- mines the concentrated mood of the Vivaldian slow movement, designed to contrast with the motoric outer ones.
This fugue is in an earlier style than most in the collection on twocounts: it is in the tradition of the seventeenth-century keyboard fantasia/ ricercar which explores a subject in terms of learned counterpoint (it is the only fugue in Book I to use augmentation, a hallmark of that learned style); and in terms of Bach’s fugal writing generally it is an exposition fugue, with brief links rather than episodes, each successive exposition introducing a new contrapuntal treatment. In this it resembles the A minor fugue, with which it is probably roughly contemporary. The rigorously maintained schemes of these two fugues contrast with the fugues of c.1720, which are concerned with refreshing fugal techniques in an up-to-date style. Comparing the rigidly schematic plan of this fugue with the very loosened-up style of the D sharp minor fugue of Book II is an instructive lesson in the difference between Bach’s early and late styles.
The purpose of the collection in general is to demonstrate the tonal system in up-to-date styles. This is the only piece in Book I to have a substantial element of the modal tradition, and may have been included specifically to provide a representative of that. The subject has a traditional modal outline which has been compared to the chorale melody ‘Aus tiefer Not’, erroneously since that is a Mode III (Phrygian) melody (see Walther 1732 p.410), whereas this is a typical Mode I (Dorian) melody. One feature of this mode is the char- acteristic M shape of the subject, a commonplace of Renaissance polyphony and of learned seventeenth-century counterpoint. Its inversion is the subject of Froberger’s Ricercar II (1656), and Bach used it in its most straightforward form in the first subject of the incomplete fugue of The Art of Fugue. The subject of the D sharp minor fugue adds to this the return to the 4th degree, typical of such archetypal Mode I melodies as Ave maris stella.69Bach used this
outline in the early Canzona in D minor for organ BWV 588, and updated it in a galant context in the fugue of the B minor Flute Overture BWV 1067/1. Other antico features are the strict, ‘gebunden’ treatment of dissonance, the rhythmic fluidity of line, and the subtle balance of curves and leaps. Very much in the Frescobaldi tradition is the constant remoulding of the subject, such as the bass entry of the inversion exposition (b.39), and the wonderfully dramatic bass entry in the inversion stretto (b.44) with its tolling 5ths, described by Landowska as ‘stunning’. The principle of free moulding yields a new version of the subject in quasi-augmentation in the middle part of the triple stretto at b.24. It also allows for the climactic triple stretto at b.52, where none of the three entries is quite like the original subject. This is truly developmental counterpoint in the seventeenth-century learned tradition, where pleasure is taken in flexibility, wit and resourcefulness rather than in rigid, pedantic exact- ness. A less obvious antique feature is the outlining of the Dorian ambitus by perfect cadences on the 5th degree (b.19) and 3rd degree (b.30) which mark the ends of the first and second expositions respectively (see Meier 1992 p.181). The next perfect cadence is not until b.61, marking the beginning of the final section of augmentations.
The scheme of expositions is rigorously logical, as follows: b.1 exposition recto; b.191⁄
2stretto recto; b.30 exposition inverso; b.44 stretto inverso; b.611⁄2 augmentation exposition. Within this there are numerous felicities of counter- point, such as the stretto recto at b.191⁄
2being inverted at the 12th at b.27. Bach has compensated for the potential relaxation of tension of the augmentation entries by placing them rather high on the keyboard, and surrounding them with increasingly complex stretti, culminating in a stretto of all three versions of the subject (normal, semi-augmented, and augmented) at b.77.
The virtual certainty that this fugue was originally in D minor has long been known, and is confirmed in the sources. The most obvious pointer is the scale in b.15 which in D minor went up to c"' but now cannot go up to c"'♯ which is beyond the Book I keyboard. Of the control editions, Dehnhard alone gives c"'♯, following J.G. Walther (P 1074). Elsewhere accidentals from D minor have survived (B natural for B sharp, E flat for E natural; see KB V/6.1 p.188). Transposing modes around the keyboard in order to get convenient singing pitches was one of the ways in which advanced keys began to be explored in the early seventeenth century. By putting this fugue into such a sophisticated key Bach has lifted these very traditional, well-worn materials on to a rarefied plane, matching the exquisite ingenuity of the counterpoint.
There is always a problem of guessing how much ornamentation to add to pieces by Bach in this style. The Canzona BWV 588 exists in a highly orna- mented version in the Mempell-Preller collection (edited in Faulkner 1984 pp.56–62). As an absolute minimum, the trill on the penultimate note of the
subject (e'♯), which is given in copies by Anna Magdalena Bach (P 202) and J.G. Walther (P 1074) in b.3 and equivalent places, should surely be observed. It is possible also that the figure q.—q–––q in the last beat of b.11 implies a trill.