Senior Recital: A Performance of Works by Bach, Beethoven, and Bartk

Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements of the Jay and Jeannie Schottenstein Honors Program Yeshiva College Yeshiva University May 2013

Elia Daniel Rackovsky

Mentor: Dr. Noyes Bartholomew, Music

A recording of the recital may be found online: http://youtu.be/EiWJd_c31bQ

Johann Sebastian Bach: French Suite No. 5, BWV 816 Johann Sebastian Bach lived in the German town of Kthen from 1717 to 1723, where he served as the "Cappellmeister and Director of the Prince's Chamber Music" to Leopold, Prince of Anhalt-Kthen, a Calvinist whose beliefs stood in the way of the application of florid or complex music to religious service. Bach's output during this period consisted mainly of secular music: It was a time during which he composed many of his most significant instrumental works void of a religious nature, including the first volumes of both the Well-Tempered Clavier and the Clavierbung, the Brandenburg concerti, and the Six Suites for Solo Cello along with the French Suites. A short while after the sudden death of his first wife, Maria Barbara, in 1721, Bach fell in love with and married Anna Magdalena Wilcke, the daughter of a performer in the Kthen ensemble, which he led. History records the first Clavierbchlein, a bound notebook of piano music produced in 1722, as among the first fruits of the newly married Bach. And though his circumstances necessitated a shift of focus from the religious to secular, this keyboard notebook reveals that his music still had a higher purpose. The music within had a "fundamental nature" that German historian and musicologist Martin Geck describes in his biography of Bach as focusing "not only on mastering the keyboard, but also achieving excellence in compositional technique," (Geck 109) since the music was of value in pedagogy. Along with sundry works for keyboard, the first Clavierbchlein contains the mostly-completed set of keyboard suites that would later be named "French." In each of the six French Suites, we find a collection of dances, varying in number but consistent in organization. All begin with a stately Allemande, continue with a quick Courante, and proceed to a solemn Sarabande. The dances comprising each of the suites are all composed in the same key, and in each of the suites, a light-hearted and fast-paced

Gigue constitutes the final movement. Primary differences in the character and contents of the suites lie in the dances situated after the Sarabande, where the suite form and prevailing musical tastes permitted Bach to add dances as he saw fit. In the Fifth suite, we find the familiar Gavotte, which provides a light-hearted contrast to the slow, profound Sarabande before it; and the Boure and Loure, which contain a bit of harmonic adventure not found in the other dances and lead up to the Gigue at the end. While the suites may possess many qualities useful in the teaching of music, none of them is French, since Bach wrote the suites "not in the style" of his "French contemporaries" (French Suites). Instead, the musical traditions of various European nations led to the evolution of each of the dances contained in the suites, and the form has roots in the Italian traveling musicians of the Sixteenth century (Spitta 72). As a unit, they acquired the "French" moniker as a result of each dance's self-contained and selfreferential nature, which offers a "conspicuous contrast to the broad symphonic forms of the later partitas and English suites" (Spitta 159-160). Each individual dance exhibits a "rhyming" type of symmetry in which themes and motives are replicated and "could be found at the ends as well as the beginnings of the respective halves" (Sutcliffe) of each dance. The Fifth suite is especially prominent in this aspect of composition, since according to Geck, Bach advances the form by applying the rhyming scheme "much more consistently" than in the other suites, leading to the construction of a symmetrical work in which "the second half essentially is a development of the material of the first." This advancement was not lost on the musical world, and would be adopted by Bach's son Emmanuel for use in his sonatas starting in 1791 (Geck 598).

Though on paper, Bach's compositions and manuscripts encode the advances he caused to come about in music, the original sounds he imagined remain unknown and unknowable. Performing Bach on a piano enables the incorporation of effects facilitated by technical advances made after Bach's time and therefore impossible to produce on the comparatively primitive instruments on which he played. The piano's introduction of dynamic range enables performers to color the music with infinite gradations that enable the emphasis of one melodic line over another, and the clear definition of counterpoint where it would have been lost in a harpsichord performance. The sustain pedal, though absent from early clavichords, has utility in facilitating intricate passages and exchanges of hand position. And perhaps most importantly, modern ears will never know Bach's true intent, since the cembalo on which historians believe Bach played sits silent and without strings in the Musikinstrumenten-Museum in Berlin. In addition to physical differences between the instruments of the 18th century and those of today, the established methods of musical performance have changed as well. Since in Bach's time, ornamentations were regarded as obvious additions that did not need notation, performers added trills, mordents, and other details where they saw fit. Consequently, modern editions specializing in historically accurate and typographically clear imprints, such as those published by the houses of Henle or Brenreiter, often rely on editors' discretion to draw from "the more important" versions of the manuscript that are "therefore presumably Bach's final text" (Steglich, v). While the strict mathematical structure of the counterpoint and the existence of multiply attested manuscripts leaves little doubt as to the backbone Bach wrote into his music, the omission of detail enables each performer of Bach's clavier works to have a musical fingerprint as much as a physical one. The interplay between written music and 4

implied, occurring as a result of the supporting structure of precise musical instruction, has enshrined Bach's works in the canon as vitamins for any musician's proper growth and development. Philipp Spitta, in his three-volume biography of the composer, articulated this sentiment best: Bach's clavier compositions comprise a "heritage into which it has been left to this generation to enter," an "inestimable legacy" for their ability to create a learning experience for both artist and audience at each performance, by stimulating a deeper understanding of each piece at every performance.

Bla Bartk: Mikrokosmos No. 148, Six Dances in Bulgarian Rhythm, No. 1 Music by Bartk provides a short excursion into the twentieth century, between the classical works of Bach and Beethoven that surround it in the program. Though Bartks harmonic vocabulary incorporates sounds that would have been foreign and perhaps jarring to the ears of Bach and Beethoven, common threads run through the music of Bach, Beethoven, and Bartk, who made as profound a contribution to the musical canon as his forebears. Between 1926 and 1939, Bartk wrote the 153 short pieces of the Mikrokosmos. The story of the their publication reveals the extent to which the public had been unacquainted with Bartks music: According to Ernst Roth, Bartks liaison at Boosey and Hawkes, the composer complained that his piano works found no favor with the public, in response to which Roth suggested that he write some shorter and easier educational pieces. Bartks response: I have drawers full of them (Platthy 157). The pieces were arranged from easy to difficult, and in sum strive to build a strong musical background and correct shortcomings in pupils musical development. 5

According to the composer, the collection was named with dual meaning: Representative of a small world (Nissman 225), the Mikrokosmos stand in contrast to the larger-form works by composers like Beethoven and Bach that require multiple movements in the creation of their musical worlds. However, by representing the Mikrokosmos as a music world for little ones, for children, (ibid) the composer explicitly references the musical technique and skill building exercises such as the Well Tempered Clavier, an edition of which Bartk himself edited. The short works in the Mikrokosmos generally have descriptive names. These range from descriptions of the musical elements contained within them, such as Imitation and Inversion, and Fourths, to references to the origins of or programmatic elements contained in them, such as Village Joke, and From the Diary of a Fly. As an ethnomusicologist and collector of European folk tunes, Bartk named the Dances in Bulgarian Rhythm with both of these nomenclature conventions in mind, since the term Bulgarian describes both the origin and the style of the music. The Bulgarian influence came from Bartks departure from Budapest and exploration of peasant music in the region. His first trip to the Banat region, in 1912, yielded seven recordings of Bulgarian songs that he proceeded to write down in his music notebooks. However, in transcription, Bartk was stymied by how a lack of adherence to the Western musical conventions with which he was familiar made difficult accurately writing down the folk songs. A breakthrough emerged when Bartk realized that instead of the tradition of having one downbeat in every measure, the Bulgarian folk music was composed of additive metrical structures (Rice 197) built on a basis of quavers or semiquavers. In this uneven architecture, each measure has an uneven grouping of beats. Such music is also characterized by tempi usually greater than 300 beats per minute. 6

This departure from convention became a new avenue of expression, which Bartk would consider for a while. Pter Bartk recounts in the biography of his father that one night at dinner, Bla tested his family, all musically talented people, about an unconventional rhythm with which he was working at that time. None of his family guessed the answer correctly, though Bartk was happy to explain his fascination with the extension of one beat in a measure as a transformation of an accent from the dynamic into the time dimension (Bartk 166). At this time, the seeds of Bulgarian influence, planted during his exploration of the region, were germinating in Bartks mind. Soon afterwards, Pter records, the piano cycle Mikrokosmos appeared in print, (ibid) and included a number of pieces in Bulgarian Rhythm. Written in
4 + 2+ 3 8

time, each measure of Number 148 has three strong beats and

six weak ones. In these works, the unusual metric structure comes together with a tonal vocabulary as striking as its rhythmic counterpart. Though Bartk scored the piece without sharps or flats in the key signature, it is effectively composed in a scale based on E, with a number of substitutions and extensions. Pter writes how his father spoke of Gershwin with praise, (171) and already in the first measure, a simultaneous D-natural and D-sharp lead to but never quite reach the tonic E, establishing a blue-note tonality traditionally associated with jazz that pervades the piece and comes to prominence especially in the Meno vivo middle section. The deft touch that Bartk applied to composition, by adopting a foreign tonal language and rhythmic vocabulary and making it his own, reveals the extent of his musical genius. Like Beethoven and Bach before him, Bartk advanced musical composition through his innovations, and left a legacy that composers and performers alike still treasure as a fun way to play and learn about music. 7

Ludwig van Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 18, Op. 31 No. 3 Sound consists of a collection of pitches. To make music, this definition must be extended to incorporate details of harmony and dissonance, counterpoint, and changes in volume. Pitch and volume were the elements that Beethoven most obviously used during composition, and their use in the creation of tension and its creative and cathartic release contributes to the quality of his music. However, there exists an underlying element central in music production that exerts a profound influence on Beethovens enduring popularity: By using music to manipulate the fabric of time, Beethoven was able to maximize the thrill of his music, heighten emotion, and captivate audiences. Beethoven, in composing his eighteenth piano sonata, Opus 31 Number 3 in Eflat, synthesized these musical qualities into a cheerful and witty package in which the composer played with the nature of time itself (Solomon 106). At first glance, the sonatas four-movement structure mirrors Beethovens large-form symphonic works, creating a frame of reference in which the piece can be understood. In that context, the roughly half-hour duration of the piece resembles that of a symphony, and the outer movements sonata form fits that template as well. However, Beethoven, in order to manipulate the creation and diffusion of tension, and defy audiences expectations, rejected the conventional incorporation of a slow inner movement to temper the rapid pace of its companions. Beethoven wrote the three sonatas of Opus 31 between 1801 and 1802, in response to a commission from the Swiss publisher Hans Georg Ngeli for a collection of works in the grand style, large in size with many departures from the usual form of the sonata, established largely until that point by the works of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethovens earlier works (Jones 9). For Beethoven, though, Opus 31 marked the end of a 8

period in his life marked by inner turmoil. In 1802, after a difficult spell in which deteriorating hearing, and the accompanying deleterious effects on his work, prompted the composer to contemplate suicide, Beethoven managed to reach emotional equilibrium, and made a compositional fresh start by writing a letter to his brothers that would come to be known as the Heiligenstadt Testament (Solomon 121). In the letter, Beethoven apologizes to society for his reclusive and antisocial habits, and insists that were it not for his devotion to music, he would have surely ended his life. Through it, the composer came to terms with his eventual death, and according to Solomon, in order to renew his lease on life, imagines his demise in order that he might live again (121). Beethoven vowed not to let it get in the way of the fulfillment of what he believed was his artistic destiny. Understanding the effect of the Heiligenstadt Testament on his music, many of the details of Opus 31 Number 3 become clear, as the product of a renewed musical mind determined to make the most of life. As a commentary on the nature of time, as if to say that we must make the most of it, Beethoven wrote four up-tempo movements in order to incorporate the most possible music in the structure. Beethovens commentary on the nature of time extends to the minute details of the piece, where he uses music to manipulate the flow of time itself. The first theme of the first movement, with its off-tonic opening, can be considered a musical question and answer about what makes one part of the music a beginning and another part the end. In the second movement, Scherzo, (Joke) Beethoven creates what the pianist Andras Schiff calls dramatic moments, recurring intervals of silence in the musical line that by sounding like a composed memory-slip set up a musical joke, as though the performer forgot whats coming (Schiff 10:20). Beethoven, cognizant of the centrality of timing in 9

humor, waits until the most exciting moment to present the punch line, when the performer remembers the rest of the music. The third movement, Menuetto, with its fast tempo contrasts with the traditional slow movement in a symphony or sonata. In the final movement, Presto con Fuoco, Beethoven composes in 6/8 time, resulting in a fast gallop rhythm (Schiff 14:29), which along with a horn-call motif earned this sonata the nickname The Hunt, given after Beethovens death. By understanding the internal turmoil that Beethoven had endured, and the catharsis brought by the composition of the Heiligenstadt Testament, the musical details of the sonata come into sharp relief, as the product of a musically renewed mind with a new perspective on composition and time itself. At a period in Beethovens life when he was concerned most about his past, present, and future, he composed a set of sonatas that play with those very concepts, putting him on a path towards the yet more radical musical advances he would make in his later compositions.

On Performing The knowledge that I sit before a room filled with people listening to every note means that I must play at the highest level not just for my own ears, but for the audience as well. While the traditional paradigm presents the concert hall as a blank canvas that the artist must fill with musical painting, for me, performance becomes an exercise not in projection of the music to the crowd, but in communication and feedback between me and them. Some composers have left behind explicit instructions concerning the proper performance of their works, leaving the musician to occupy the role of performer more than the role of an interpreter. Others have left many of the details of proper 10

interpretation of their music unspecified. Musicians performing these works must search longer and seek more clues as to the composers true intentions and the fundamental truths written into the music. The best way to uncover these fundamental truths is by entering into an imaginary dialogue with the audience. I put myself in their seat and listen to a recording of myself, asking important questions about the qualities of what Im listening to. This covers issues from mechanical aspects of sound production, to more abstract questions concerning musicality. Should those notes be staccato or legato? Is that pause long enough? Am I giving the suspense away too soon? Some of these questions have right answers and wrong ones. Others are matters of opinion, in which I must consider both sides, with the help of my teachers, before arriving at a conclusion informed by musical instinct and a desire to do justice to the music. This mindset transforms the piano bench from a lonely perch at the origin of the sound, to a seat at the nexus of communication in a quest to uncover the most beautiful and compelling music.

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Bibliography Bach, Johann Sebastian. French Suite No. 5 in G, BWV 816. Ed. Rudolf Steglich. Munich: Henle, 1972. Bartk, Bla. Mikrokosmos, No. 148. Bartk, Pter. My Father. Homosassa, Fl: Bartk Records, 2002. Beethoven, Ludwig Van. Sonata Number 18. Op. 31 No. 3. Munich: Henle, 1976. Elie, Paul. Reinventing Bach. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2012. "French Suites." Oxford Companion to Music. Ed. Alison Latham. Oxford Music Online. Oxford UP. Web. 22 May, 2013. <http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/opr/t114/e2691>. Geck, Martin and John Hargraves. Johann Sebastian Bach: Life and Work. Orlando: Harcourt, 2006. Jones, Timothy. Beethoven: The 'Moonlight' and Other Sonatas, Op. 27 and Op. 31. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1999. Lockwood, Lewis. Beethoven: The Music and the Life. New York: Norton, 2003. Nissman, Barbara. Bartk and the Piano: A Performers View. Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 2002. Platthy, Jeno. Bartk: A Critical Biography. Santa Claus, IN: Federation of International Poetry Associations of UNESCO, 1988. Rice, John. Bla Bartk and Bulgarian Rhythm. Bartk Perspectives: Man, Composer, and Ethnomusicologist. Ed. Elliott Antokoletz, Victoria Fischer, and Benjamin Suchoff. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000. Schiff, Andras. Wigmore Hall Recitals and Lecures: Op. 31 No. 3. London: The Guardian, 2006. Accessed May 19, 2013. <www.guardian.co.uk/schiff>. 12

Solomon, Maynard. Beethoven. New York: Schirmer, 1977. Spitta, Phillipp. Johann Sebastian Bach. New York: Dover, 1951. Steglich, Rudolf. Foreword. J.S. Bach: French Suites BWV 812-817. By Johann Sebastian Bach. Munich: Henle, 1972. iv-v. Suchoff, Benjamin. Bla Bartk: A Celebration. Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 2004. Sutcliffe, W. Dean and Michael Tilmouth. "Binary Form." Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford UP. Web. 22 May, 2013. <http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/03093>. Weissman, John. Bartks Piano Music. Bla Bartk: A Memorial Review. New York: Boosey and Hawkes, 1950.

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