BAROQUE KEYBOARD FINGERING


It's difficult to know exactly WHO makes an effort to experiment with Baroque fingering! I have undertaken an experiment myself with the Organ Trio Sonata in C Minor (BWV 526). Being in my opinion the most technically difficult of the 6 Trios, it does not seem to lie "naturally" under the fingers - especially the opening theme, which recurs throughout. But I have found that by making a conscious effort to favour the strong fingers (2 3 and 4) with the thumb acting as an anchor (and the little finger being used very sparingly), quite a lot of the articulation and phrasing immediately comes to life in a new way.

As can be seen, say, in the RH of the opening (below) a pianist's natural inclination might be to finger the opening in the following way:

5   2123 1 5 4 3

whereas by primarily using the "strong" fingers a better solution (musically!) is:

5   2123 4 3 2 1

Generally a concentration upon these strong fingers seems to show itself by quavers being naturally phrased in pairs, and semiquavers in fours (often with points of articulation between these groups due to finger action - but articulations that make musical sense).

I am going to give three performances, but in order for reference here is the score of movement 1:











The first performer to listen to is LIONEL ROGG. His playing is clean, but the pace too slow (in my opinion) to capture the "Vivace" mood Bach asks for. More importantly however, I do not feel his fingering is consciously "18th century" - everything is smooth, and phrasings are applied despite (rather than because of) finger movements (even though they are sensible).

The second performer is TON KOOPMAN. This is very different from Rogg: the tempo is quicker, and the feeling is more "Vivace". I sense that he IS making an effort to use mostly "strong" fingers, and the theme is thereby given a real sense of "bounce". But there are things about his performance that I don't like...

First, I find his incessant addition of ornamental "twiddles" extremely irritating, and often counter-intuitive to the melodic writing. It also gets in the way of contrapuntal clarity. Second, like Rogg the sounds used are just too BIG (with an oppresive sense of harmonics and overtones that confuse the harmonies - and this is not helped by the acoustic either). To me this is Chamber Music and "big" organ sound is out of place. Third, like Rogg he does not employ a 16' pedal pitch in the pedal line - this is (for me) a serious error of textural handling, especially since on the last page the pedal line rises above the LH and makes harmonic nonsense unless it continues to sound lower in pitch!

The third performer is ME. I played it in a single "take" this morning (and yes - I know that it is not perfect, and I didn't expect it to be either!). This uses a 16' pedal, and is generally a little quicker even than Koopman, but does attempt to focus its digital activities into the "strong" fingers, with consequent implications for the phrasing and articulation.

Baziron

p.s. complaints about "performer 3" will be treated with contempt! 

That is most interesting Mr. Baziron and the 5   2123 4 3 2 1 feels to a fumbling key-boardist such as we by far the more natural arrangement. May we enquire then about bars three and four? What fingering would you recommend a Bach purist to use in the right-hand part of those bars? Is it best to move the hand on or just before the first semi-quaver of a group of four (i.e. at the beat), or somewhere in the middle of the group (i.e. off the beat)? Or does it not really matter as long as one is smooth where it counts? How about this then:

4321 2415 4321 2415 | 4321 2412 1 23 1234 et cetera.

Firstly MrY, thank you for your (perhaps over-)kind comments.


Dynamic contrasts (deliberately here underlined) were, of course, quite usual on the keyboards Bach employed. The Clavichord (never a loud instrument!) could according to key pressure increase/decrease the volume (allowing cantabile playing) and additionally produced vibrato if the player wished to use a tremolo upon a sustained note.

The Harpsichord (in many styles and sizes) generally had (in Bach's time) two keyboards. The lower frequently had at least three sets of strings that could be played separately or together (thereby increasing/decreasing the timbre and volume). The upper manual could be played either separately, producing a contrasting tone and volume, or alternatively could be coupled to the lower manual, thereby giving yet further colour and volume.

The Organ, of course, regularly had up to 3 manuals (sometimes 4), and the tonal structure of these departments was intended again to provide contrast. Additionally, upon each manual, registers could be variously added or stopped, again providing great contrast in volume and timbre.

But what composers/keyboardists at that time never did (unlike the later pianists/composers) was apply dynamic contrasts as such within particular phrases. Within the bounds of a section/phrase they were (so to speak) 'stuck with what they had' at the time. The only means at their disposal with which to play was Time. Hence...

You mention some moments (for example) in my recording where the second of two quavers is shorter than the first. The purpose in shortening the second is to mark the end of a phrase. Now a pianist would never do this (even Rosalyn never does) - instead a pianist would naturally mark a phrase ending by applying a dynamic control whereby the final note was actually played more softly (so as to make the phrase-ending clear); but the note would still be played usually for the notated length written in the score.

Harpsichordists and organists (i.e. those who are style-conscious anyway!) will always be using Time as a means of dynamic expression. This might be simply at the level of individual notes/rests given more (or less) 'weight' than expected (thereby acquiring an emphasis - or lack thereof). It may also be at the greater level of giving additional length to chords whose harmonies are particularly salient and important. (There are times when the harmony, as opposed to the melody or counterpoint, takes priority in the unfolding of a music idea.) It can also be at major points of formal structure (e.g. the final statement of the main theme, bringing the movement to a close) where a slight slowing down is discreetly applied to draw attention to the idea (as opposed to a later composer/performer who might simply - as with Beethoven - heighten the impact with a higher dynamic marking).

The problem with some earlier performers on the harpsichord is that they never fully understood the actual dynamics of Baroque music - they merely believed that in using a 'harpsichord' the sound must be correct. The result was that instead of confining their use of dynamic contrasts to points of structure (only), some of them were for ever changing manuals, and 'soloing out' melodies at every temptation or provocation!

The prime example of this is, of course, Wanda Landowska. The many examples of her playing provided by our much-respected and sorely-missed mentor Sydney Grew all show her for ever chopping and changing manuals and registers, often in mid-phrase, purely in order to transplant on to the harpsichord a particular ethos stemming from a pianoforte tradition.

Baziron

My big problem with Koopman is his whole view of the function and nature of melody and the consequent manner in which he performs it. This becomes (for me) particularly irksome in contrapuntal music where several melodies combine simultaneously. The difficulty (again for me) is that he cannot seem to resist the temptation of peppering each and every melodic component with twiddles, slides, trills and other 'ornamentations' that simply make the whole thing sound jerky, fiddly, fussy and nervous. It is rather like being served with a delicious and well-balanced meal, but then being unable to stop fiddling with the condiments on the table. The result is a radically over-seasoned taste that spoils what the chef intended.

The reality is that Bach's contrapuntal melodies are already ornamented to such perfection that the addition of further ornaments is often counter-intuitive to the melody itself. Instead what is imposed upon the line is now a rhythmic quality that detracts from the melody. When this practice is applied simultaneously to different layers of the counterpoint, not only are the melodies obscured but so too are the harmonies that should arise from the counterpoint.

Having said that, it is difficult to think of any piece from this period in which a style-aware performer would not supply ornamentations; the question is simply how and where. Quite apart from the standard formulaic use of (unwritten) cadential trills, there are countless examples where a certain ornament is supplied by the composer upon the first statement of a melody, but thereafter notationally omitted. Most intelligent players will realise that these omissions only happen because further indication of the 'obvious' is unnecessary.

The purpose of ornaments is simply to decorate and enhance a melody. But with some players they easily become purely an end in themselves, giving a sense that (as opposed to being decorative of the melody) they are part of the superstructure around which the melody is designed. This is where sensitivity ends, and insolence begins!

Baziron

Few rational people could disagree with most of what Rosalyn says on ornamentation. But a few things - some of more gravity than others - remain under strict scrutiny. Prime amongst those is her view that ornaments (especially trills) should be played in a strictly metrical manner. Indeed this is one of those aspects of her performance that make this music sound so mechanical, despite her attempts to mask this through the application of dynamics (in an attempt to divert the listener's mind away from rhythm towards emotion).

Her view that ornaments should be measured in this way seems merely to be a symptom of a much more serious misunderstanding of Bach's approach to melody and ornamentation. It shows a basic failure to understand that most of Bach's written notations already embody the required ornamentation - fully written out! There is thus a subtle distinction between two kinds of ornaments (essentially similar, but designed for different purposes):

a) those which, since they are fully notated, must be performed exactly in the manner prescribed by the composer, and

b) those which, because they are indicated by the use of a symbol, are intended to be played at the discretion of the performer (i.e. at the speed, rhythm and incision that the performer judges at that moment to be appropriate to the style, mood and ethos "of the moment")

Those under a) require skill rather than taste, while those under b) not only require skill but also taste.

As an example of what is involved here, we can again look at the opening of the C Minor Trio Sonata previously mentioned (above). In the following example, the first stave shows what Bach actually wrote, while the second stave presents the same music with all the ornaments given as symbols:



Now it can be seen that some of the ornaments have been written out in full, and therefore remain strictly under the rhythmic control of the composer. (Indeed, had they not been so, their performance might have been very different, despite the note-pitches remaining the same). While there is no less clarity in these cases as to pitch, there is now absolute and complete clarity with regard to the intended rhythm.

Those ornaments in the second stave that remain identical with those in the first are very different - these are now to be interpreted and realised entirely by the performer. The question is: how?

Bach left a brief table of ornaments as follows:





Being notated, they have to make grammatical sense (as they do). But this does not necessarily mean that they represent anything more than a mere pattern to be followed. They are all "quick", they all "commence on the main beat", some of them use upper notes, some lower, some both, some have lower-note terminations, others do not etc. etc......

Now the main point seems to be that where a symbol is used (as opposed to full notation) it is up to the performer (only) to make a judgement about speed, regularity and taste that he/she (alone) judges to be appropriate - within the framework of the actual pattern specified by the symbol.

It therefore seems to me that a listener should easily be able to understand which ornaments are the ones Bach has bothered to notate in full, and which others are those that - having been prompted by a symbol - are the ones entirely under the control of the player's judgement.

The problem with playing everything strictly "in time" is that this distinction is lost; there is no feeling that a performer is exercising freedom, spontaneity and taste. Everything sounds just as though it has all been laboriously written out in full by a boring and pedantic composer. Performances thereby sound mechanical, and the music becomes stereotypical and predictable.

Furthermore, when performers such as Koopman add further complex layers of mechanical ornamentations (not indicated even by symbols) to those which are already fully notated within the musical line, the whole thing begins to sound like a cacophonous jumble of nervous twitches that begin to destroy the melodic and harmonic clarity so cleverly invented by the composer. More importantly, it also shows a fundamental misunderstanding of Bach's floridly ornamental style that is there from the start. This style is already a great advancement upon the melodic writing of earlier composers (who were happy to leave most of the frills within the hands of the performers).

Baziron

She is correct - although only partly! In stating the well-worn adage that "a poor workman blames his tools", she has only extrapolated one particular kind of "poor workman". There are, indeed, two quite clear categories:

a) a poor workman who blames his tools

and

b) a poor workman who deliberately always chooses the wrong tool

With the former we give up, but with the latter there is still some (albeit slender) hope. The latter proceeds in this manner:

"Bach's music for keyboard was written for an instrument with a keyboard. A pianoforte has a keyboard, therefore Bach's keyboard music is entirely suitable for performance upon a pianoforte."

[It is to be noted that this is merely another version of the other well-worn adage: "A dog has four legs - my cat has four legs, therefore my cat is a dog."]

Now while most of us (especially those who contribute to the "Cat Thread") will immediately assert that there are many different kinds of cat, and that even those of the same kind are all of differing personalities and dispositions, few would ever think of them as dogs.

Not so with Rosalyn - at least with regard to keyboard instruments! In her final paragraph (giving a summation of "the pianoforte") she writes the following:


We can immediately note that her argument hinges upon the supposedly ubiquitous nature of "the piano" (noting the application of the definite article). There is no concern expressed that a "piano" constructed and performed upon around 1750 is in any way different from another "piano" built and performed upon around 1850. This is particularly puzzling since most of the "pianos" with which Rosalyn exercised herself must have been constructed around the 1950s!

Now if, by a stroke of ill fortune, Rosalyn had found herself required to perform a piece of early-20th-century piano music upon a "piano" built in the 1750s, she would no doubt have complained that the instrument (itself!) was completely unsuitable for the purpose. (Where is the una corda pedal? Where is the iron frame? Why do most of the notes only have a paltry 2 strings? Why is the bass register so poor? Why does the "sustaining pedal" only sustain for about 2 seconds? etc. etc.....) But we should have little sympathy for her plight! After all she would here be demonstrating the second type of "poor workmanship" noted above - i.e. she has simply chosen the wrong instrument! There would, indeed, be nothing wrong with it whatsoever - except its complete unsuitability for performing the musical repertory she would be attempting! How crass is that we ask!

But the paradox is this: the situation (for Rosalyn and others) does not equally exist in reverse. There is simply no question about the suitability of using a modern Steinway Grand for Baroque keyboard music instead (that is) of an instrument of the actual period built expressly for the purpose! This would (we assume) be quite unthinkable.

But in the end the greatest error she commits is perpetrated in her final sentence: "Thus the blame lies with the performer rather than the instrument if musical style is found lacking in Bach performance upon the piano." Herein is contained an implication that in using clearly the wrong instrument (i.e. one quite opposed to the intentions of the composer or his contemporary listeners) there is still somewhere the possibility that the musical style evinced thereupon need not be found to be "lacking".

This final absurdity completely sums up all that is contained in Rosalyn's extract - an extract that seems unable (or unwilling) to differentiate between statements of historical fact, and aesthetic assertions that have no tangible connections with such facts.

Baziron