What is all this talk of harpsichords? Is the member unaware that harpsichords - and pianos too for that matter - have long been vieux jeu among the crackpots? When the voices are differentiated do not aspects and properties hitherto undreamed-of emerge?

To-day's offering is the C sharp minor Prelude from Book I, arranged for flute, brass band, and one or two other nameless instruments. We seem to remember that Schoenberg had something to say somewhere about the clash of B natural against B sharp in bar twenty-nine, but cannot find it at present. (Rapid-share / send-space).

In Tovey's notes to this Prelude we read this, wherein we have to say he "loses" us after the first line: "Climaxes may be externally recognised by the presence of ledger-lines [he ignorantly spells them "leger"] below the bass stave, such notes being best dealt with on the clavichord as the result of a crescendo. But on the piano-forte it is hardly less dangerous to force the tone in Bach's pathetic melodies than on the clavichord."

Only yesterday, though, we read this in regard to the crescendo:


So what can Tovey be going on about? Why a clavichord all of a sudden? Could clavichords do crescendi but harpsichords not? Are we back with the Bebungs, tangents, and even shared strings? It is all so confusing for a simple crackpot.

Mr Grew - as usual Tovey is making an entirely academic point here. As he must have realised, on the clavichord (which like the pianoforte is capable of differing dynamics according to note-attack), while the smallest dynamic is pppp, the greatest is still only ppp!

I doubt, therefore, that such subtle dynamic gradations were ever likely to have impinged greatly upon the ears and senses of a player whose ears needed to be within 2 feet of the strings to hear them at all! As for any audience - well, they might just as well have watched Joseph Cooper bashing away on his silent keyboard.

Baz 

An interesting essay (= 'try') Mr Grew - lending ever-new possible insights into this fascinating piece.

I note that you adhere verbatim to the Tovey edition, and must ask you one thing therefore (since, like him, you must bear the burden of the blame):

Editors who insert ornamentation into Baroque (and other) music normally have the courtesy to enclose them in square brackets. Here, however, we see courtesy transformed into discourtesy, noting that (unusually) ALL the ornaments that BACH himself bothered to insert into his score have (by Tovey) themselves been enclosed in square brackets! So far from indicating that the square brackets indicate an editorial confiscation of the composer's own chosen ornaments, the innocent student (including I assume yourself) has assumed that these accretions are Tovey's own and can safely be disregarded if one chooses. I am sure that you must share my distaste that you were duped in this manner, and chose (unwisely) to omit ornaments you innocently assumed to be Tovey's rather than Bach's. (My goodness me - 'editors' have a lot to answer for don't they?!)

Now in point of FACT these elaborate ornaments are essential, and impinge greatly upon the perceived tempo to be adopted. (In this regard, Mr Grew, you come out 'tops', because the tempo you have chosen - through sheer and uncanny musical instinct - is undoubtedly entirely the correct one. But what is sadly missing is all the ornamentation so carefully and (very unusually) painstakingly inserted by Bach!)

I should suggest, therefore, that the musical substance and integrity might be transformed by restoring these embellishments, and making an attempt to articulate them in the manner that Bach himself indicated.

As an example, here is a performance by GUSTAV.

Very nice indeed! May we ask the member to post also Gustav's performance of the great accompanying C sharp minor Fugue which is due to come up for discussion to-morrow?

C# Minor fugue (Bk 1 - Gustav)

Baz

I haven't listened to Mr Grew's crackpot version yet, but suspect that when I do I shall find it too slow for a steady Alla breve movement. He feels Gustav's 4-minute affair too fast, although it seems to me to be a little reserved in tempo, indeed holding back somewhat when the third (lively) theme enters the ring.

But if Mr Grew finds Gustav's performance too fast, what on earth will he make of LEON'S we wonder? He gets through it in no more than 3' 05"!

Here Leon provides what is (for him) an unusually polished and vibrant performance, really feeling the growing excitement of the music. Despite a minor lapse of concentration near the very end (where his inner parts get into a temporary muddle) it has to be said (surely!) that this is "his finest hour"!

Baz

I should have preferred your crackpot version to have flowed at a proper (though dignified) Alla breve, perhaps something like the following:

SYD2

Baz

Some interesting and varied performances there Mr Grew! Let us comment upon them...

The first - by the 'Unknown Artist' - stands as a beacon akin to some 'Grave of the Unknown Warrior' does not it? It is almost like music written for a Transylvanian horror film in which the unsuspecting victim - having (he supposes) innocently arrived at his hotel room - carefully opens the wardrobe to deposit his few belongings, only to be greeted by a clanging and out-of-time Waltz macabre played spontaneously by a row of unladen and unwieldly metal coat hangers! This 'performance' is carefully judged so as to elicit the greatest possible fear from the victim with the very opening note - played fortissimo with even the 16' coat hangers bashing themselves against the side of the wardrobe. "What..." he feels "...have I done to deserve this?". As he gazes transfixed at the ghostly performance, gaining pace and severity with every passing note, he waits with the greatest patience for the inevitable event of the final tierce de picardie before collapsing upon the floor in a state of emotional and physical stress.

Glenn is just Glenn - he pokes his way through as usual, although the Tempo is not really as fast as he likes to make it sound! It is, believe it or not, a fairly brisk but 'real' Alla breve.

Wanda's performance again has that Transylvanian ambience, even though her instrument sounds more like a box of paper clips than a wardrobe full of rusty coat hangers. We are left in wonderment at her innate skill in making paper clips sound so musical - but a clue lies in the way she plays the first 4 notes: listening carefully, she deliberately sustains the B# so that it gracefully harmonizes with the following E and D#. It does not matter that Bach did not indicate this manner of delivery because it makes its own valid contribution to a genuine (if rather idiosyncratic) logic. Like the other Transylvanian performance, however, no understanding of - or response to - the explicit differences in style, intent and pacing between 4/4 and 2/2 is demonstrated. Indeed here again we are to understand that 2/2 means 'exactly the same thing' as 4/4, but that because the consequent notation is now in minims, crotchets and quavers (rather than crotchets, quavers and semiquavers) it 'must be' the case that the tempo has to be SLOW!

Rosalyn gives another one of her memorable performances here, and it is noteworthy that she again shows herself to be the pioneer who spearheads the technique (noted by Mr Grew) whereby this Fugue 'begins quietly and ends loudly'. Indeed it has to, because after having 'solo-ed out' the first theme (bars 1 - 35) she first finds that there is now a second theme to 'solo out' as well (bars 35 - 49), and second she then discovers that there is eventually also a third one (bars 49 - 115). Since the fugue only contains 5 voices, it is clear that by the time three of these are taken up with the three Subjects - each of which by default needs hammering at us every time it exists - the volume will inevitably be very much louder than it was at the beginning (where there was only one theme that needed socking to us). But there is one very strange aspect of Rosalyn's performance: from bar 36, she slips into a proper moving Alla breve tempo (we have, after all, now arrived at the point where continuous quavers are brought into existence). One can only wonder, therefore, why she did not begin at this speed - perhaps that was all part of the surprise?

Angela's performance is obviously closely modelled upon that of Rosalyn (as one would expect). So it starts slowly, quietly and mysteriously. But (again) at bar 36 it begins to pick up pace (i.e. to what it should have been at the beginning). Unlike Rosalyn she does not bash us in the face every time the theme is heard, and we must infer therefore that her decision to make the dynamic progressively louder as the piece progresses was a purely aesthetic one on her part (and not, as in Rosalyn's case, an unavoidable and inescapable result of the accretion of more and more themes that all need to be bashed out simultaneously). It is puzzling why she allows the pace (having managed to acquire it) and tension to flag at the end, and dissolves again (as in other movements) into one of her sulks, ending as though she has just played a quiet movement from Schumann's Kinderszenen.

I must confess that I have a soft spot for flying Leon, and also for dear old Glenn. They both have what I believe is the right idea for this piece (even though they both play it a little too quickly for the style). But I share Mr Grew's distaste for the staccato playing that Glenn gives us - applying a détaché sparingly at the level of the crotchet (in Alla breve) is one thing, but then to inflict it so mercilessly also upon the flowing quavers is tasteless.

Baz