But we have to-day our own crackpot interpretation.
So. A chaconne. (Bach called it Ciaccona in his own manuscript but we are unaware of an independent Italian form.) We all know chaconnes do not we - it is a dance style with a vigorous momentum and a forceful, manly swing, easily confused with the Passacaglia partly because there seems to be no consistent difference (Frescobaldi's famous
Partite cento sopra il Passachagli is surely as much a Chaconne as any of the classics from the French Ballet).
It is clear at first glance what kind of tempo is required to achieve the characteristic swing - something not too far from the 92-100 mark for the crotchet, perhaps slackening off just a touch for the demisemiquaver passages later although even in strict tempo these would hardly be any more challenging than the thorniest slopes of the Fourth Brandenburg.
And the crackpot interpretation is provided by... well.
As far as we can tell, by absolutely everyone.
This was perhaps one thing decades ago when the Hysterical Performance fashion had not caught on. We note that the Chaconne in Bartók's sonata for solo violin is headed 'Tempo di Ciaccona' and provided with a metronome mark of just 50! Imagine the shock of Lully and Rameau on seeing such a wrong-headed notion of their vigorous dance take hold! But it is quite another thing to-day. We all know the Chaconnes from the Cantatas BWV 78 and 150 do not we? No-one would to-day think of depriving them of their necessary drive. But the poor old violin Chaconne still languishes under the weight of tradition it seems.
So who is the crackpot? Is it we? We do often wonder since such is undeniably the case in so many other matters. If so, can someone give us convincing grounds why? It will not be easy but our ears are we think reasonably open.
Ahem.
I would not disagree with Member Sudden that many pre-Hysterical performances of this work indeed adopt a lugubrious tempo not at all in keeping with the spirit of the piece. However, I believe it would be a mistake to assume that this piece should too closely follow the strictures of the 17th century Italian, Spanish or even French chaconne. That was indeed a brisk, vigorous dance, marked by flights of improvisation of an upper part over a simple bass line. By the time the chaconne had settled into 18th century Germany, however, it had become more complicated. The bass line, while still harmonically simple, carries thematic weight and contributes to if not contrapuntal at least multi-voiced intricacies not seen in examples from the earlier century in other areas. These intricacies get completely obliterated if the tempo pushes relentlessly.
I would also take issue with Member Sudden's idea that one could slow down for the magic marker passages. To do so would undermine the very momentum he craves. The notes getting faster would do little to disguise the harmonic rhythm grinding to a shuddering halt - or at least a severe pull-up.
As for technical difficulties - having tackled Brandenburg 4's thorny slopes as well as coming back to the D-minor Partita again and again since the age of 14, I can assure Member Sudden that the Brandenburg's famous violin passage is p*ss-easy compared to the Ciaccona. For one thing, it's much shorter - one burst of adrenaline and it's over. But even if they posed the same technical challenges, I would question whether the intent of the two passages was the same, and whether the same tempo would be appropriate for both. The thorny bit in the Brandenburg is (I think) the petulant outburst, out of nowhere, of a show-off violinist who want everyone to LOOK AT ME and not those two miserable recorders (this works especially well if you subscribe to the Apollo v. Pan
*edit - or do I mean Marsyas, the fool who challenged Apollo to a musical duel thinking the gods were fair-minded * theory of the piece), and playing it as fast as possible suits the piece. In the chaconne, the hemi-semi-demi-remi-lemi-whateveremi-quaver passage is the accumulation of a huge build of the first part of the piece. It starts off in seemingly fantastical, scale-like, improvisatory ripples of scales, but it becomes so much more than that. Its emotional weight develops as the different voices in the arpeggiated bit take on different harmonic roles. It's much more complex than the dazzling, throwaway showing off of Brandenburg 4.
I agree with Baz that a pulse-like tempo (assuming you're not too nervous) of 72 is sufficient to give rhythmic impetus without losing either the pieces complexities or the chance to let the music breathe.
