Sonata 1 in F Poco Allegro, Andante, Vivace. " 2 " B flat
Vivace, Adagio, Allegro assai. " 3 " E
Poco Allegro, Adagio, Presto. " 4 " C minor
Allegro, Adagio, Presto. " 5 " C
Poco Allegro, Andante, Allegro assai. " 6 " A
Allegro, Adagio, Allegro. The first and last movements of all six are in binary form. In the five major sonatas, the first sections close in the key of the dominant, and in the one minor sonata (No. 4), in the relative major. The opening movement of each sonata is in early sonata-form: the second section starts with the principal theme, or a brief allusion to it; but then, after a short development with modulation, there is a return to the principal key and to the principal theme.[62] The final movements, on the other hand, are of the usual suite order. Of interest and, indeed, of importance in our history of development are the contents of the first section of the opening movements. In some of the Scarlatti sonatas (see No. 56) there is to be found a fairly definite second subject in the dominant key, or, in the case of a minor piece, in the dominant minor or relative major. Here the process of differentiation is continued; in the 2nd Sonata the contrast between the two subjects is specially marked. We give the opening bar of each-
To hear this music (MIDI), click here.
To view the Lilypond source file, click here.
To hear this music (MIDI), click here.
To view the Lilypond source file, click here.
In most of the developments the composer steers clear of the principal key, so that at the return of the principal theme it may appear fresh. To such a method, since Beethoven, we are quite accustomed; but it is curious how little attention-even with the example of E. Bach before him-Haydn paid to such an effective means of contrast in some of his early sonatas. In Bach's No. 6, in A, the development assumes unusual magnitude; it is even longer than the first section. And it is not only long, but interesting. One passage, of which we quote a portion, has rather a modern appearance:[63]-
To hear this music (MIDI), click here.
To view the Lilypond source file, click here.
The return of the principal theme is preceded by an unexpected entry of the opening bars in B minor,-a first sign of that humour which afterwards formed so prominent a feature in Bach's music. And the theme itself, after the opening notes, is dealt with in original fashion.
The middle movements of Nos. 2, 3, 5, and 6 are in the key of the relative minor; that of No. 1 is in the tonic minor, and that of No. 4 (C minor), in the relative major. No. 1, twice interrupted by a recitative (upper part and figured bass),[64] is dignified, yet tender, and, in form, original. The Adagio, in C sharp minor, of No. 3 is a movement of singular charm; it is based on imitation, but, though old in style, it breathes something of the new spirit, or rather-for there is nothing new under the sun-of the old Florentine spirit which freed music for a time from the fetters of polyphony. The genius of Johann Sebastian Bach gained the victory over form, and, in fact, exhausted fugue-form. It is in the clever, but dry fugues of some of his contemporaries and, especially, successors, that one can feel the absolute necessity for a new departure. This Adagio is, as it were, a delicate remembrance, and one not unmixed with sadness, of the composer's immortal parent.
The light, lively final movements need no description. All the music of these sonatas is written in two or three parts or voices; occasionally there are chord passages in which for the moment the number is increased. We have dwelt somewhat in detail on this work, as it appears to be little known.
There is a sonata in the key of D major, published in the 3rd Collection (1763) of Marpurg's Clavierstücke (p. 10), by E. Bach, which was written in the same year (1740), but earlier than the "Frederick" Sonatas. C.H. Bitter remarks that if the year of composition were not known, it would certainly pass as a much later work. The first movement reminds one of Beethoven's terse, bold style. Bitter refers to the freedom with which the thoughts are expressed, to the melodious character of the Andante, and to the humour of the Finale. He might also have referred to the style of writing for the instrument, which suggests a later date.
In 1745 (?) appeared the Würtemberg Sonatas (so called because they were dedicated to Bach's pupil, the Duca di Wirtemberg e Teckh, as he is named on the title-page of the original edition). These sonatas are marked as Opera seconda. They were offered by the composer to the Duke in recognition of the many favours shown to him "at the time when I had the honour of giving you lessons in music at Berlin."[65] Of these sonatas we have only been able to have access to the two preserved in the British Museum; the others are probably of similar character.
No. 1, in E flat, opens with an Adagio, followed by an Allegro assai (E flat), and then by a Menuet alternato and Trio, both in E flat, and with the former da capo. The first and second movements are in old binary form; the Allegro shows the influence of D. Scarlatti. The Minuet is fresh and pleasing. It is evident, taking E. Bach himself as standard, that this is a suite rather than a sonata.
No. 2, in B flat, is of similar character and construction. Both sonatas are old in form, but more modern in their subject-material and style of writing than those dedicated to the King of Prussia. In the latter there is a solidity not to be found here; in its place we have lightness, almost merriment; they were written, one would almost think, expressly for the amusement of the Duke. The rapid semi-quaver passages (as in No. 1) and the crossing of hands (as in No. 2) tell in no undecided manner of the influence of Scarlatti. The exceedingly light and graceful Minuets remind one of the kinship between the composer and Haydn.
In a letter to Forkel, dated 10th February 1775, Bach writes as follows:-
"Die 2 Sonaten, welche Ihren Beyfall vorzüglich haben, sind die einzigen von dieser Art, die ich je gemacht habe. Sie gehören zu der, aus dem H-moll, die ich Ihnen mitschickte, zu der aus dem B, die Sie nun auch haben, u. zu 2en aus der Hafner-Würtembergischen Sammlung, u. sind alle 6 anno 1743, im Töplitzer Bade von mir, der ich damahls sehr gicht-brüchig war, auf einem Claviacord mit der kurzen Octav verfertiget."[66]
It would be interesting to know the two sonatas belonging to this period, "the only ones of the kind that I have ever written." In the catalogue of musical remains of E. Bach, published two years after his death, the opening bars are given of a Sonata in B minor (see above letter) written at Töplitz in 1743-
To hear this music (MIDI), click here.
To view the Lilypond source file, click here.
This, surely, must be the one mentioned in the above letter.
In 1760, Bach published six sonatas with varied repeats (mit veränderten Reprisen), dedicated to Princess Amelia of Prussia. In the preface the composer remarks that "nowadays change or repetition is indispensable." He complains that some players will not play the notes as written, even the first time; and again, that players, if the changing on repetition is left to them, make alterations unsuitable to the character of the music. These sonatas are of great historic interest. This preface, also the evident necessity for additional (inner part) notes at times, especially in the slow movements of E. Bach and other composers of that day, make one feel that, as it now stands, much of Bach's music is a dead letter. Here we are face to face with a question which in a kindred matter has given rise to much controversy. If the music is to produce its proper effect, something must be done. To that (in the case of Emanuel Bach's sonatas) all reasonable musicians must agree. Yet not, perhaps, as to what that something should be. According to certain authorities, only additions should be made which are strictly in keeping with the spirit of the age in which the music was written. Some, on the other hand, would bring the music up to date; they think it better to clothe eighteenth-century music in nineteenth-century dress, than to ask musicians with nineteenth-century ears to listen to patched-up eighteenth-century music. The second plan would not be approved by musicians who hold the classical masters in veneration; with a little modification, the first one, however, ought to meet with general acceptance. We may write in keeping with the spirit of a past age, but the music must now be played on an instrument of different character, compass, and quality of tone; so surely in making additions (and, so far as certain ornaments are concerned, alterations) these things ought to be taken into consideration. A certain latitude should, therefore, be allowed to the transcriber; hard-and-fast rules in such a delicate task are impossible. The late Dr. Bülow...