BACHannalia

To open our celebration, we have the oft-excerpted Siciliano, from the Sonata in Eb Major, BWV 1031 (composed 1730–1734). This lyrical gem is fascinatingly in the mediant minor key, the relative minor of the dominant key, G minor. Though naively simple on its face, the lilting melody has veiled emotional depths, and the expressive possibilities, reaching directly from the heart of the performer to that of the audience, defy words. Intriguingly, scholar Hans-Peter Schmitz did not include BWV 1031 in his catalog of “authentic” sonatas by JS Bach in 1963. We have attribution to the great Bach from two independent sources: one from his son, Carl Phillip Emmanuel Bach, in the manuscript, as well as from his last pupil, Christian Friedrich Penzel. However, CPE wrote his father’s name in that manuscript, and in his old age, given that he was only 9 when the Bach family left Cöthen where most of J.S.’s chamber works were composed, it is conceivable that he may have made mistakes. Regardless of true authenticity, in the words of British music historian Nicholas Anderson, “What is indisputable… is the high quality of its craftsmanship and its expressive charm.”

Another of the “inauthentic” flute sonatas by Bach is his Sonata in G minor, BWV 1020 (composed circa 1734). There is a striking affinity between the Eb major sonata and this one, one that leads Bärenreiter editor, Alfred Dür to “the supposition, or even conviction, that both were composed by the same man — an opinion already expressed both by the editor of the old Bach Collected Works, Wilhelm Rust, and by Philipp Spitta.” The mystery deepens with the manuscripts in the Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin only recording the author’s last name (Bach), and Breitkopf’s 1763 catalog as well as an 18th century copy found in Brahms’s papers naming the author as CPE Bach. Whatever the truth may be, without an extraordinarily lucky, indisputable new discovery, we can only make educated guesses through precise, scholarly stylistic analysis. Perhaps Bach wasn’t the only author; perhaps he made corrections and guidance to CPE’s efforts. There are simply too many stylistic nods to the next generation: continuous rhythmic basses, courtly sentimentality, and melodies based on triads and short phrases, for us to say definitively that this is an authentic Bach creation.

All this notwithstanding, this G minor sonata is truly a treasure of the flute repertoire. And a member of the flute repertoire it definitely is, though surviving copies name it as a violin work. It is rather obviously composed for the flute — there are no double-stops, and as musicologist Leo Balet argues, the G string on the violin would not have been used. This work is a “trio sonata” for only two instruments, with the three-part texture split between the flute and the right and left hands of the keyboard.The rivalry of the two upper voices then occurs between the flute and the right hand of the obbligato harpsichord, while the left hand provides a bass line that alternately supports those voices and actively participates in the musical argument. BWV 1020’s three movements follow the Italian fast-slow-fast format. In the opening “Allegro,” there are solo passages accompanied by a bass line that could be filled out by the keyboard player, as it would have been in the old basso continuo style, but the central slow movement, “Adagio,” and the spirited “Allegro” finale are consistently set in trio texture, with the trio being the flute, and the harpsichord’s right and left hands.

Bach’s contribution to the genre of French overture or orchestral suite is quantitatively limited. He wrote only four orchestral suites (BWV 1066–1069) which all begin with an elaborate opening movement in the three-section form of a “French overture,” and followed by a series of dance movements. Orchestral Suite No. 2 in B minor, BWV 1067 (composed in 1738–1739) is a concert en ouverture (concerto-overture), a form developed by Georg Philipp Telemann amongst other composers in the late 1720s and 1730s, a hybrid mix of the French overture and the solo concerto. As the word “concerto” suggests, this genre requires a solo instrument, often the violin, but occasionally flute or recorder. The level of virtuosity demanded, however, is less than what would be required for a true concerto. In this form, to maintain the original French essence, it is not necessary to highlight a solo part in every movement.

Among Bach’s four orchestral suites, the B minor Suite has a unique place: it is the only one that contains extensive solo passages for one singular instrument, and is also Bach’s only orchestral suite in a minor key. Most importantly for our consideration is that it is the only suite for solo flute with orchestra, earning it a favored place in the hearts of flutists. Because of its popularity, the arrangement for flute and obbligato keyboard on this album was created according to Bach’s writing style by publisher Peters’ editors, Erich List, and Johannes Weyrauch.

Although this suite belongs to the standard flute repertoire, it is believed that it was intended for solo violin because the solo part consists of a wealth of typical violin figurations. The constant motion (and corresponding dearth of places to breathe), general avoidance of the G-string, and the relatively low registers of certain passages all imply a violin origin. Beyond that, the key of the work also seems to have been changed: in referring back to the parts for BWV 1067 prepared by Bach and his copyists, analysis reveals that the work was originally in A minor.

The Suite in B minor’s opening Ouverture is notable for the thematic nature of the bass line and its interaction with the flute. Its outer sections are languorous and sorrowful (marked “Lentement”), while the middle fugal section (Allegro) is lively, with driving motion. Following that are six relatively short but delightful gallantries, mainly stylized dances of different geographic origins. The rondeau, bourrée, and menuet are from France; the sarabande is from Spain; and the polonaise is from Poland.

Just like the overture, the flute is used as a concertante instrument in Rondeau, a piquant allegretto gavotte-like movement. The stately sarabande that follows is treated as a strict canon between the outer parts. Neither strain relaxes until the final cadences. Then, comes Bourrée I and II, two of the 20 titled bourrées of Bach available today, and one of the eight which appear as a contrasting dyad. The bourrées use dance rhythms typical of the style, but they still seem distant from the French style due to the Italian embellishments. This is also the point in the suite where the flute begins to take on an increasingly prominent solo role, taking the lead in the second bourrée. The ceremonial yet festive polonaise is one of the only three surviving Bach polonaises. It is paired with a French variation, known as Double, wherein contrapuntal devices are interestingly used, with the upper voice moved to the bass and the solo flute ornamenting from above in running 16ths and 32nds. Immediately after, Bach relaxes the mood with the graceful and charming Menuet. With its classic proportions and dainty precision, it is easy to imagine dancers in a noble court lilting along. The suite races to its conclusion with the world-famous, energetic, and impudently virtuosic Badinerie (in English, banter). Listeners who owned a classic original Nokia cellphone from the early 2000’s will recognize it as one of the built-in ringtones. This movement is especially beloved by flutists, and excerpted often as a quick and clever display of flying fingers.

After that rich orchestral work, let’s venture to an excerpt from Bach’s most famous, and his personal favorite, of the three Passion settings he created: the soprano aria, “Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben” from St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244 (composed around 1727, and revised between 1743–1746). This heavenly, diaphanous duet between flute and soprano evokes such a depth and power of feeling, and yet maintains a sense of distance, a haunting loneliness, a fitting mood for the lyrics. When this aria is sung, Jesus has been arrested, and is standing in front of Pontious Pilate. Pilate turns to the crowd, asking if he should release Jesus or Barrabus. Upon their answer of Barrabas, Pilate asks, “Why? What evil has Jesus done?”, and in Bach’s Passion, the soprano soloist offers this aria in reply.

The distance and loneliness then is perhaps the separation of Jesus from Father God in heaven as he takes on the sins of the world, the separation of sin from humanity, and the sense of bereftness, the shock and acceptance of the testifier for the innocent and sinless Savior who is now choosing, out of the greatest love, to redeem mankind through this death. Bach weaves so much pathos, wonder, and raw pain in the strains of this ethereally lyric reflection on the main point of the Passion, and one of the most powerful tools he used to accomplish this is word painting. He places lengthy melismas carefully on important words to give them emphasis, in particular the words “Liebe” (love) and “sterben” (to die). By doing so, Bach links forever God’s love and Jesus’s death. He also puts a melisma on the word “ewig” (eternal), giving it the length and weight appropriate to sin’s damnation, separating humanity from God forever. In this performance, the piano performance is a free improvisation on the orchestral score and soprano solo.

In 1729, Bach took over Leipzig’s Collegium Musicum, a voluntary association consisting of professional musicians and university students that gave weekly concerts. The Sonata in B minor, BWV 1030 (composed 1736–1737) is believed to have been created for the Collegium concert series, and JS Bach’s acquaintance with Dresden’s flute maestro Pierre-Gabriel Buffardin (1689–1768) no doubt inspired him to write this work too.

A posthumous copy of just the harpsichord part suggests that Bach began composing this sonata in a different key, that of G minor, around 1729–1731. He did not return to the piece until 1736–1737, at which time he prepared a fair copy in the key we know today — B minor. It is impossible for Bach’s originally intended solo instrument to be the flute because the two upper parts both go below the lowest note playable on flutes from the Baroque period.

The opening movement “Andante” is unusually lengthy and complex, with a rich contrapuntal texture. Its initial theme recurs throughout, alternating with episodic passages, reflecting the signature ritornello structure of the Baroque concerto. Following it is the “Largo e dolce,” a beautifully harmonized “song without words.” It is presented in the form of a florid flute solo with a fully notated harpsichord accompaniment. The closing movement “Presto” is a combination of fugal textures and dance-like virtuosity. It has a unique structure; it contains two contrasting sections, an alla breve fugue, and a highly syncopated gigue-like second section. Surprisingly, that second section was created first. Bach, though, felt that the dance “would be too lightweight as a counter-balance to the first movement,” and added the relatively weightier fugal part before it. To connect the two sections, Bach uses similar opening phrases which are both developed from the same five-note sequence: B–D–C#–G–F#.

In conceiving this project to commemorate Bach’s 340th birth anniversary, flutist Cleo Leung and pianist Serene Yu set out to commission a medley of famous Bach tunes that would also wish him a Happy Birthday. They reached out to young Bosnian composer, Faruk Mehić, whose works have been featured in the Multimod festival in Belgrade, “Minimalist intersections” – The Ninth International Conference on Music and Minimalism in Belgrade, “Dani Vlade S. Miloševića” in Banja Luka, “Forte Piano” festival of contemporary piano music in Podgorica, “Zemunske muzičke večeri,” “Flauta & Me” flute festival in Novi Sad, “Belgrade Piccolo Weekend,” International cultural festival “Zeničko proljeće,” and the biggest culture festival in Sarajevo, “Baščaršija Nights.” He participated in the project “In Search of Our Musical Roots” organized by Jazz Art (funded by Western Balkans Fund) in which he composed Jazz Garland op. 3 no. 5. It was performed in Podgorica, Tirana, and Banja Luka and it was conducted by Antonio Kitanovski. He received a plaque from the Federal Ministry of Culture and Sports for the composition Fourth Garland for mixed choir, which was performed at the final event of European Heritage Days in Mostar. Mehić’s I’ll Be Bach Medley includes the themes from Bach’s Air on the G String from the second movement of his Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D major, BWV 1068, Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring from Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, BWV 147, and Sheep May Safely Graze from Was mir behagt, ist nur die muntre Jagd, BWV 208, before launching into a “Happy Birthday” to Bach. Sing along with us for a rousing close to this BACHannalia!