Wednesday, February 16, 2011

J. S. Bach: 6 'Cello Suites - No accompaniment needed



Music is an agreeable harmony for the honor of God and the permissible delights of the soul.
– J. S. Bach

            A few days ago, I stated “Aside from the piano, there are very few instruments capable of carrying an entire album unaccompanied and without dubbing multiple tracks.  Guitar is one of them…”  I didn’t expect to eat my words quite so quickly, but here I am doing just that.  While not an album in the strictest sense of the word, this instead is a collection of six complete suites for unaccompanied violoncello.  And despite the fact that double and triple stops are so much les frequent on the bowed strings than the plucked, there feels like there are fewer elements missing here.  Yet another testament to the greatest composer in Western musical history – the genius of J. S. Bach.
            Perhaps the most readily recognizable theme for the instrument, the prelude to the first suite sets the example for the movements to come – a strong sense of bass line, harmony and melody, (the second of which is implied more often than stated).  I think one of the things that makes Bach’s writing more successful than Pass’ work is the simplicity of the (oft implied) vertical structures.  Jazz by it’s nature relies on complex chords with extensions, alterations, and individual voicings.  Classical pieces such as this can easily sit on one chord or tonality for 16 bars or longer at a time.  (This is again in no way meant to downplay the virtuosity of Joe Pass and his album, of course.)
            One thing that does seem to get lost frequently is a sense of rhythm.  Some of it I think is due to the expressive nature of the performance, and some of it due to the lack of metrical structures heard by the listener.  (Again, the prelude from the first suite is an exception to this rule.)  However, this “beatless” feel isn’t always a bad thing.  It lends a certain timeless quality to the music, much like chant or other early music.  The melodies wash over the ear as a stream of sound, not individual measures or chunks of ideas, but as one continuous musical expression.  Again, a significant difference between Baroque practice and more contemporary music.
            My understanding of the suite form I confess is somewhat lacking – I really have no clue as to what structurally separates an Allemande from a Courante, or a Sarabande from a Bouree.  I know they’re all dance-based forms, but at this point, somewhat indistinguishable to me personally.  Ironically, this confuses the issue of rhythmic based forms, because tempo and meter are typically the foundation of such pieces.  (See also bossa nova, waltz, tango, etc.)  I guess this is one of those collections I’m going to at this point at least, resign myself to appreciating without theoretically tearing apart first.  And I’m definitely okay with that.

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