BWV 681 presents an immediate issue we think! If one looks at the engraving (above at the end of my last posting) one will see that throughout we have the pattern "dotted quaver + 3 demisemiquavers" taking the overall time of one single crotchet beat. The question is this: what actual rhythm could have been intended?

Mr Grew's crackpot performance never provides these groups with a dotted quaver! The rhythm evinced and articulated seems always to be something quite different: viz. a quaver tied to a demisemiquaver, followed by three further demisemiquavers. That being so this crackpot has decided that by "dotted quaver" Bach somehow meant "dotted quaver - but always short by a demisemiquaver". Now we have often heard about what is frequently referred to as "overdotting", but the notion of "underdotting" is new to us. (And we are not, of course, talking about regularly dotted patterns that - within particular contexts - become triplet rhythms, especially since in the present case the dot cannot have this effect.)

So we are therefore led to the inescapable conclusion that since the groups of 3 demisemiquavers that succeed dotted quavers cannot possibly (under any conditions at all) be considered as demisemiquaver triplets it must be the case that the value of the dotted quavers has to be increased so that overdotting is applied throughout. In such a scenario it is our considered view therefore that the basic actual rhythm to be adopted by this pattern (in this piece) should be as follows: "dotted-quaver-tied-to-hemi-demisemiquaver + a following group of 3 hemi-demisemiquavers".

An alternative (and equally acceptable) rendition could also be: "double-dotted-quaver + triplet hemi-demisemiquavers". Whichever of the two is chosen, however, will we feel require all notated "upbeat" semiquavers (and groups of smaller notes equating to the semiquaver) to be rendered in a way that matches the overdotting applied.

This also we strongly feel places considerable constraints upon the tempo since if the performance is too quick the overdotting (and shortened upbeat note-patterns) will sound too "snappy" and lack the expressiveness implied by the ornamental melody.

Matteo comes quite close to this ideal, though his rather brutal performance (exacerbated by too brisk a tempo) lacks the expressive lyricism suggested by the ornamentations applied. (The French were not always, we feel, given to brutality despite their love of the guillotine! A lot of very beautiful things went on during the Baroque, and not only in the Palace of Versailles!)

Baz

We must say that "scholarship" as such does not immediately leap out of West's page in a way that strikes us. Re-notating Bach's music in this way is the product of a single editorial decision (right or wrong), and does not explain why Bach himself did not write it this way (which he could so easily have done) if this is what he desired.


The trouble is we feel that this notion has an inbuilt illogicality! By adopting (as did West) the attitude of "count the pennies and let the pounds take care of themselves" one is left with a huge amount of loose change without any great awareness of the overall wealth or poverty. One of the "pounds" that needs careful evaluation (but is never given it by West) is the rhythmic performance in this piece of the pattern "dotted quaver/semiquaver". West presumes this to be played literally, but it seems to us nonsense to make this presumption. First there is a great difference between Bach's care in making his notation logical and mathematically correct (which he always did), and understanding the manner in which a style that is encoded within that notation should actually be rendered in performance. A case in point is the last bar of system 2 in West's edition: the idea that the semiquavers in the RH should do anything other that coincide with the last demisemiquaver of each LH beat seems to us absurd. This is not only a matter of rhythm but also one of harmony - both of which in this case contribute to the "Frenchness" of the style being employed. In fact, Bach did not generally convey precise rhythmic collisions notationally, but instead tended to write each layer of his counterpoint with a fairly equal spacing - and in the longer cantus firmus movements bars in Cut-C often place their melodic semibreves actually in the centre of the bar rather than in alignment with the other notes of the first beat. Nonetheless in the bar in question here the engraving does show some evidence in its presentation that the semiquavers are at least sometimes placed more in alignment with the final demisemiquavers.


Where groups of short notes are more complex it is true that Bach is meticulous in presenting them with complete notational rectitude. But we must again maintain that this cannot be inferred as the actual way in which he expected them to be performed! The notated double-dot was not yet in use, and it is clear from the very opening of this piece that the value of the dot is variable (as the Member rightly says). So it seems to us illogical to maintain that Bach here (and elsewhere) could possibly have actually written the notes exactly as he wanted them to be played, because the same notation could (as the Member acknowledges) have a variety of different rhythmic meanings.

Baz

If only Bach's notation were as unambiguous as Nero's statement "Odi profanum vulgus, et arceo!" (I hate the common rabble, send them away!) we should have a much clearer understanding of much of his music and its performance.

Earlier in this thread Mr Grew spoke disapprovingly of the “Scotch snap”, and we are led to believe that in this he concurred in this view with the philosophy  of JSB. So why then did Bach use the device so unashamedly throughout BWV 682?

The “Scotch snap” is a device which – within the context of 18th-century musical aesthetics – is rhythmically inharmonious and dissonant. Being iambic in essence, it here lies in opposition to the traditional view that an iambic pattern differs from an trochaic one by being what might be called an “upbeat pattern”. We might think of a trochaic pattern in ¾ consisting of a minim/crotchet alternation that begins upon the strong beat. The reverse pertains to the iambic pattern crotchet/minim in that it begins as an anacrusis upon the weak (or “upbeat”) portion of the bar. But when it is used (as in this piece) by placing the weak part of the rhythmic foot always upon the strong beat of the bar, a sense of rhythmic imbalance and distortion is created.  Furthermore, since in this piece the “snaps” are always at the level of demisemiquaver/dotted-semiquaver, not only is there a continuing sense of rhythmic imbalance, but also a distortion of the harmony. Where the strong beat has a clear harmony, the sudden move (rhythmically) to a longer off-beat note creates an unexpected dissonance. Even where the longer note provides clear harmony, the preceding shorter note (which is not always simply an appoggiatura) forces upon us a harmonic effect of sometimes startling dissonance.

But there are other “dissonances” (in the wider sense) shown in this piece. First it is a hybrid between a cantus firmus setting and a cantus coloratus one. We are led to believe at the outset that this is to be a cantus coloratus setting – hence we note the first melody to be a highly coloured version of the first phrase of the Chorale melody. This suspicion is confirmed by the appearance of the LH which then repeats (in imitation) the same coloured version of phrase 1. But our suspicions are then thwarted by the appearance – in canon! – of the actual Chorale melody using long notes in the alto and tenor voices. So there is also an incipient mismatch of genre wherein we have been deliberately deceived into believing at the outset that the piece is of one kind, only then to discover that it is of an entirely different type. This deception continues throughout the long movement – when the canonic voices have periods of silence, we are then fooled into thinking that it is after all a coloratus setting (this belief always being thwarted again by the reappearance of the canonic cantus firmus).

So what is Bach up to?!

We note also a further (and even more pervasive) incipient rhythmic dissonance: is the pervading rhythm constructed in triplets or duplets? It is all too easy for HIP adherents to assume that when triplets occur against duplets, the latter should as a matter of course be rendered unequally so as to match the rhythm of the former. But throughout the movement Bach often divides these duplets into groups of four to be played simultaneously against the triplets! So we are led to conclude that the duplet notations are not a means of convenient shorthand for unequal notes, but (quite the contrary) are a deliberately-contrived longhanded method of asserting the specific requirement of mismatching the rhythm.

So, again, what is Bach up to?

We have the following follies clearly presented to us:

a) mismatch of genre
b) wrong-way-round “Scotch snap” rhythms
c) all-pervasive harmonic instability caused by the “snaps”
d) deliberate mismatch of duplet/triplet patterns intended to sound simultaneously

The only conclusion we can reach is that here again (and quite contrary to a suggestion made earlier in this thread by another Member) we see an example of “musicalised Lutheranism”. (And we should not be too surprised since the title page specifically designates this collection as a musical setting of the Lutheran Catechism – the word “Catechism” being the Greek for “Instruction manual”.) Central to Lutheran belief was “adherence to the Law”, and in this setting of The Lord’s Prayer Bach has evidently focussed upon the plea “Let us not be led into temptation but deliver us from evil”. Thus we observe The Law as presented by a canonic cantus firmus that is both simple and strictly diatonic, being supported throughout by a steady and solidly diatonic bass line. BUT, around this, two miscreant voices weave a pattern of rhythmic and harmonic deceit and equivocation, in opposition both to the stability and rectitude of the cantus firmus and (indeed) even to each other! Not only do they struggle to agree with The Law, but also they argue and struggle with each other about it. What holds them “in check” is the strong arm of The Law (through the canonic cantus firmus and its strong bass line) and it is this that eventually subdues them into submission.

It is our view therefore that the rhythms throughout should be performed exactly as they are notated  without any attempt at modification for the purposes of temporal alignment to bring the duplets and triplets into agreement (this disagreement being we believe an important element in the unfolding of the narrative).

Unfortunately the movement is never played in this manner (Mr Grew’s “crackpot” version being the only time we have ever heard it rendered in this way, even though it was a result not of musical judgement so much as literal-minded obstinacy on the part of a machine)!

A “near-attempt” was offered yesterday by Simon Preston in his Bach Prom performance (which can be heard on the BBC iPlayer at http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00d3klr/ by moving to the 0.34.35 position).  But the rhythms were frequently changed so as to create vertical alignments.

Performers naturally assume rhythmic reconciliation and remove this mismatch. Helmut's performance (offered by Mr Grew) is a good example, and there we hear all the "snaps" rendered as 1+2 triplets. It would be interesting to hear a performance that does not.

The source materials are printed below: a) the chorale melody, and b) the engraving of Bach’s setting (which, on the final page, also offers the following shorter setting [BWV 683] that will hopefully appear in Mr Grew's next posting). We urge Members who may like to follow the chorale melody in the setting to listen to Mr Grew's crackpot performance where, more clearly than usual, the canonic cantus firmus sings through unmistakably.












Baz

To-day we come to the fourth section of Bach's ideal service, namely the Baptism, for which he once more wrote two pieces, a long chorale fantasia and a shorter chorale fugue. Here (rapid-share or send-space) is a confused and eccentric rendition of the fantasia, B.W.V. 684, entitled "Christ, unser Herr, zum Jordan kam" ("Christ our Lord came to the Jordan"). It consists of two parts for the right hand, mostly in close imitation, with a very lively and effective left-hand accompaniment, as well as the chorale melody in profundo on the pedals.

According to Philipp Spitta, "When in this work the unceasing figure of flowing semi-quavers in the bass makes itself heard, it needs no skilled critic of Bach's works to find in this an image of the river Jordan. Bach's real meaning, however, will not reveal itself thoroughly to him until he has read the whole poem to the last verse, in which the water of baptism is brought before the believing Christian as a symbol of the atoning Blood of Christ."

As object of comparison with the dotty version let us also hear what André makes of what Spitta calls "this grand work, an eloquent witness to Bach's depth of nature, both as poet and as composer." As it turns out we find for a number of reasons André's interpretation intensely disagreeable! Do other members agree?

Oh dear! Not much "penitence" or "sacrifice" there we feel. It all sounded like preparations for a barbecue. We wish so much that Mr Grew had posted Helmut's performance!

Baz

Thank you Mr Grew. We ourself should take it just a little more speedily (but not much) and should also be inclined to let the pedal cf sing though more openly. But that is certainly more like it we think.

The barbecue preparations which we had in mind (and came to us upon hearing André's performance) were more to do with the hurried movements that are usually necessary as the rain begins to pour down. It is at those moments (as André reminded us) when we are most in need of "sheltered accommodation".

Baz

The harmonics are just as Silbermann created them, and this was generally how the Germans liked their organs to sound (believing as they did that the clarity and emphasis given to their lines of counterpoint by the upper harmonics enhanced the music they played). The French were different: they liked reedy noises and third-harmonic mutation stops. The Spanish were similar to the French, while the Italians favoured clean octaves and fifths.

But as for the English (!) - they always seemed to revel in "diapason" sound whose rawness eliminated wherever possible any hint of harmonics! (Some early commentators put this down to genetics, claiming that we English had much more acute hearing than did the "foreigners", and that that was why we [unlike they] did not need all those extra harmonics added to our organs - an argument rather like that offered by those who claim that they have not had central heating installed "because it makes them feel ill".)

Perhaps we English (unless converted through time to the German persuasion as some of us have been) remain conservative in our tastes? Yet we do not seem to have done so through cuisine (rarely complaining that in Indian food "the spices are a bit strong", or that in Thai food "the coconut milk is a little overpowering", or that in French food "we cringe with the taste of garlic"). Perhaps at heart some of us still yearn for good old bangers and mash?

Baz

The fifth section of Bach's ideal service is occupied by two settings of the Confessional hymn "Aus tiefer Not schrei' ich zu dir" ("In deep need I cry out to you"). The first of these - B.W.V. 686 - is the piece which Sydney Grew the Elder tells us was in 1946 regarded as "impracticable, because of its double pedal part." That does not seem to have much deterred Simon, who played it in  public just the other day. The work is written in six-part harmony, and is as Sydney Grew explains:

"Cast in the form of fugal preparations - each line is preluded, or 'prepared,' by a short fugal working of a subject created from the melody of the line. It is composition in which the poetical subject changes as well as the musical. The poetical course, which is from the gravity of a sense of sin to the radiant joy of a sense of redemption, is the course of thought in the hymn itself, and it gives the piece in brief the total form and character of a Cantata or Passion. Buxtehude among the northerners wrote well in this manner, a fact illustrated by his arrangements of 'Christ unser Herr zum Jordan kam' and 'Durch Adams Fall.'"

Here (rapid-share / send-space) is a memorably misguided interpretation by an anonymous crackpot - one pedal is much louder than the other! - and here is Helmut's much grander attempt.

Here too as second comparison is Simon having a go - and very good he is is he not in the main, despite his being too fagged to honour Bach's repeat marking!