Johann Sebastian Bach was better known as a virtuoso
organist than as a composer in his day. His sacred
music, organ and choral works, and other instrumental
music had an enthusiasm and seeming freedom that
concealed immense rigor. Bach's use of counterpoint was
brilliant and innovative, and the immense complexities
of his compositional style -- which often included
religious and numerological symbols that seem to fit
perfectly together in a profound puzzle of special
codes -- still amaze musici...(+)
Johann Sebastian Bach was better known as a virtuoso
organist than as a composer in his day. His sacred
music, organ and choral works, and other instrumental
music had an enthusiasm and seeming freedom that
concealed immense rigor. Bach's use of counterpoint was
brilliant and innovative, and the immense complexities
of his compositional style -- which often included
religious and numerological symbols that seem to fit
perfectly together in a profound puzzle of special
codes -- still amaze musicians today. Many consider him
the greatest composer of all time.
The Suite in D minor is one of two minor-key suites
among the six for solo cello. With this suite, Bach
seems to aspire to an almost Beethovenian mixture of
tragedy and defiance, all within his usual framework of
strict procedures. There are six movements: a Prelude,
Allemande, Courante, Sarabande, double Minuet, and
Gigue.
The Prelude reminds this listener of a great Bach organ
toccata (and some observers, indeed, have speculated on
links between Bach's organ improvisations and his
string writing). Bach uses a simple arpeggio figure to
build phrases of ever-increasing complexity, as in the
parallel passage in the first suite. But here the
minor-key arpeggio that sets the tone for the work is
used to gradually build tension as it climbs through
the cello's range in a series of rising waves. The
movement builds to a high-pitched, tense climax,
followed by an improviser's silence while the echoes
die out. Finally we return to the low strings for a
coda that sums up the movement in small, intimate
terms.
Each of the movements that follow offers its own take
on tragedy and defiance, but the moments that best
characterize this suite include the unusual and
dramatic double Minuet and the resigned Sarabande.
Mstislav Rostropovich memorably described the latter
movement as an essay in "white-hot solitude," and its
stylized dirge and ringing open fifths recall the
laments of the great masters of the French viol
tradition. This suite, perhaps above all the others,
compels the listener's attention through the contrast
between the graceful and courtly language of the French
dances that constitute the suite form and the dark,
sinewy meat of Bach's own compositional thinking. At
the end the Gigue wraps things up with angular rhythms
and violent, unrelenting passions. But Bach isn't done
with us yet; this movement prepares for the sunniness
of the next suite in the set.