Joseph Elworthy
Bach Cello Suites
A telling account of a work at the forefront of the cello repertoire that weaves together a historically-informed approach with an eye to the performing tradition of past masters.
History
Despite its position at the forefront of the cello repertoire, the Bach Cello Suites is a work shrouded in mystery. It is unknown why or for whom Bach wrote them, nor is it exactly clear when they were composed, although it seems likely they date from the early 1720’s. From 1717-1723 Bach held the post of Kapellmeister at the court of Prince Leopold of Cöthen. From this period, Bach’s most celebrated instrumental works poured forth - the Brandenburg Concertos, the partitas and sonatas for solo violin, and almost certainly most of the cello suites. In a strange twist, Bach was the beneficiary of rising Prussian militarism and the ensuing austere artistic climate, as many highly skilled musicians fled Berlin and landed in the backwaters of Cöthen, formulating the nucleus of Bach’s virtuoso ensemble. Among the Berlin émigrés was a noted gamba player, C.F. Abel, and a distinguished cellist Linigke. Perhaps Bach had in mind one or both of these musicians when he penned the Six Suites. One might find it odd that a gamba player is a possible source of inspiration, after all are these not suites written for the cello? This leads to the intriguing question of Bach’s original score. There is no surviving manuscript of the suites in Bach’s own hand; there are four primary manuscript sources, two dating from Bach’s own lifetime - the Anna Magdalena (Bach’s second wife) and the Kellner (an organist, cantor, and acquaintance of Bach) - the other two copies date from the late 18th Century and are from anonymous hands. Returning to the question of instrumentation, the Anna Magdalena copy does not mention the instrument that the suites were intended for (the dust cover of the Anna Magdalena does mention “violoncello solo” but it is believed to have been written by Schwanenberger, the musician for whom the copy was made). The only specific instruction regarding instrumentation occurs in the Sixth Suite, with the pithy entry: “à cinq cordes”, an instrument of five strings. The common theory put forth by Bach biographers is that Bach invented an instrument named the viola pomposa specifically for the Sixth Suite. A contrary theory is that the suites were composed for the violoncello piccolo - a violin-sized instrument tuned like a cello, but slung from a strap over the shoulder like a guitar. The violoncello piccolo existed in both four and five string variants, it was utilized by Bach for a number of cantatas dating from 1724-1725 in Leipzig, and is very similar to the instrument Bach had a preference for - the viola. Given the tenebrous history of stringed instruments during the early 18th Century, with many dropping out of existence only to be replaced by new-fangled inventions, it might be possible that Bach anticipated the Six Suites being adapted for a myriad of different string instruments.
Possible Intent
Bach’s Cello Suites are a lesson in parsimony. With the bare minimum of notes, Bach fuses together the listener’s memory and aural expectation to create an open-ended work that stretches the boundaries of ‘implied harmony’. Is it possible that the genesis of the Cello Suites was a study-work not unlike his other great learning-works - The Art of the Fugue, Clavier-Übung, The Well-tempered Clavier, the Musical Offering? It is not hard to imagine Bach’s conception of the Cello Suites beginning along these lines as he dashed of the first three suites in great haste (if we are to believe he composed them in order), only to turn a corner in his imagination and delve into the labyrinth of ideas expressed in the last three suites. Then again, perhaps instead of a study-work in economy of composition, the Cello Suites are really a lesson in how to make a simple text fascinating with irregular bowings. Studying the slur markings in the Anna Magdalena text, it is clear the concept of bowings was foreign to her (she was a harpsichordist and singer), which leads me to believe that she was steering her quill automaton, with eyes glued to a manuscript bowed by Bach.
Performing Edition
As mentioned earlier, there are four primary manuscript sources, however, there are as many as thirty editions of the Bach Cello Suites (too many of which I own). Most of these editions more closely resemble the cello part to a Tchaikovsky symphony - tempo markings, performance directions, printed dynamics, and endless symmetrical slurs - than they do the Anna Magdalena copy. Even the legendary manuscript stumbled upon by Pablo Casals in 1890 in a Catalonian second-hand bookstore is about fifty-percent Bach and fifty-percent Grützmacher. Unfortunately, it is not as simple as purchasing a facsimile of the Anna Magdalena copy and off you go; the slurs are at times indecipherable, and there are occasional wrong notes and other errors, however, it is must be regarded as the primary manuscript source.
Performance Practise
While it’s true no one knows for certain how the Cello Suites were played in Bach’s time, there are certain cellistic traps that are easy to fall into that are antithetical to the Baroque style: vibrato recklessly applied to consonant and dissonant notes; evading open strings; aspiring to an even tone with inaudible bow-changes and equality of sound on every note; and the most glaring faux-pas - preferring slurred as opposed to separate bows creating a ‘singing’ style instead of the ‘spoken’ quality of Bach’s irregular bowing. There, I said my peace.
Suite Movements
Prelude: an introductory movement that literally means “play before”. Historically, the function of a prelude included the warming up and testing of player and instrument, checking room acoustics, and quieting a chattering audience. A prelude is inherently improvisatory and provides an opportunity for a performer to demonstrate their skill.
Allemande: how perfect for a German composer like Bach to choose for the first dance of each suite a movement whose name means “German” in French. Although the allemande originated in Germany, it was fully exploited by the French who created two different types: processional dance and concert piece allemandes. The dance allemande served as the model for the Third and Fourth Suites, while the remaining allemandes fall under the category of concert piece. The allemandes in the cello suites are the most stylized of all the dance movements, and have a number of distinct features: a single short anacrusis leading to a full chord, an elaborate melodic line that is slurred, and a post-cadential gesture that lasts a full bar and brings each allemande to a conclusion.
Courante: the title of the second dance of a Baroque suite, means “running” in French. There are two different types of courante: Italian - robust in temperament, in a fast triple meter with running sixteenth or eighth notes; French - more elegant and complex, in a moderate triple meter with complicated rhythmic patterns featuring utilizing a hemiola (a type of metric organization where two bars of triple meter sound as if they were three bars of duple meter). All of the Cello Suite Courantes are of the Italian type, with the one exception being the Fifth Suite Courante.
Sarabande: stemming from southern Europe and Latin America, the sarabande was originally performed at a lively tempo and was deemed lascivious and unfit for polite society. Eventually, like other Baroque dances, the sarabande became slower and lost some of its dance characteristics. The signature feature of a sarabande is the accentuation of the second beat within the triple meter format. The Cello Suite Sarabandes have a wonderful grandeur, and are perhaps the most outwardly expressive of all the suite movements.
Optional Movements: each of the Cello Suites has a pair of dances inserted between the sarabande and gigue: Minuet I and II (First Suite and Second Suite); Bourrée I and II (Third and Fourth Suites); Gavotte I and II (Fifth and Sixth Suite). These dances were originally rural dances from the provinces of France that were later incorporated into the music of the French court. The optional dances for the First and Third Suite alternate from a major key to its parallel minor key; the Second Suite Minuets change from minor to major. The optional dances for the last three suites remain in the same key, but juxtapose mood: Fourth Suite Bourrées - extended and animated versus short and syncopated; Fifth Suite Gavottes - brusque and rhythmically varied versus fluid and rhythmically unified; Sixth Suite Gavottes - intricate and courtly versus simple and rustic.
Gigue: a lively dance originating from sixteenth-century Ireland, the “jig” became popularized on the European continent by comedians to bring their act to a close, hence the expression “the jig is up.” In the seventeenth century the gigue was adapted by both the French and the Italians with subtle differences between the two: the French gigue is characterized by a compound duple meter in a moderately fast tempo, rhythmically varied and complex, featuring wide intervals and imitative contrapuntal texture and melodic inversion. The Italian type is usually simpler, faster and more homophonic. The Cello Suites frequently straddle both styles, with the exception of the Fourth Suite Gigue that is clearly in the Italian style and the Fifth Suite Gigue that is quintessentially French.
The Six Cello Suites - An Overview
There are many fascinating theories as to the inner meaning of the Six Cello Suites. Perhaps, the Suites provide fertile ground for extravagant conjuring because the music with its progression from simple to ornate seems to lend itself to the idea of an unfolding narrative. And, of course, due to the lack of an original manuscript or any other documents from Bach’s hand referencing the Suites, it is virtually impossible to refute anyone’s supposition - how fun never having to fear being proven wrong! The following is my inclining as to the nature of the Suites, as well as some theories put forth by others that have resonated with me.
No.1 - the overriding feeling of this suite is one of exploration. The First Suite is the simplest and most accessible of all the suites, it feels as though Bach is testing the waters, carefully gauging if a work for solo cello can create the imagined polyphony that so easily gleamed from his quill. The formal aspects of the First Suite are clear and conventional; every movement is in G major - with the exception of Minuet II in G minor - a key regarded as gentle or pastoral in mood. Perhaps the most unconventional aspect of the First Suite is its emphasis on the third scale degree: ‘B’. Most Baroque works tend to begin with emphasis on the first or fifth scale degrees, but every movement of the First Suite is captivated with the third scale degree, with even five out of seven movements beginning with a ‘B’.
No. 2 - in Eric Siblin’s book, ‘The Cello Suites’, he movingly describes Bach returning from a month long trip to Carlsbad, anxious to see his family, only to be informed by a relative, or perhaps one of his four children, that his wife, Maria Barbara, is dead. This tragic event seems to perfectly encapsulate the feeling of disparity and emptiness that is predominant throughout the Second Suite. Aside from the darkness created by the key of D minor, the Second Suite plays with the idea of musical space, frequently limiting itself to the narrow parameters between the root and the fifth scale degree - there is no reprieve from the tragic mood by an occasional leaping interval.
No. 3 - the antithesis of the Second Suite, this suite has all the trappings of festivity and exuberance that is frequently associated with the key of C major. Bach fully utilizes the resonance of the bottom two open strings ‘C’ and ‘G’ as they provide both the tonic and dominant of C major. Also in contrast with the Second Suite, the Third Suite straddles a two-octave span. The Sarabande provides the heart of the Third Suite, not just because it is in the middle of the suite, but rather because of its expressive harmonies and arched melodies that display more emotional poignancy than either Sarabande from the two previous suites.
No. 4 - moving from the sublime resonance of C major, Suite Four splashes into the trepid waters of E flat major - a most ungrateful key! I’ve always enjoyed the bucolic feel of this suite, ploughing through the leaping arpeggios in the Prelude, perhaps sharing an off-colour joke in the pithy Bourrée II (the shortest movement of any in the Six Suites), and rounding things up the whirlwind of triplets that make up the gigue. I am intrigued by Eric Siblin’s proposition that perhaps the Fourth Suite was composed in Leipzig sometime after 1723; Siblin sites the flourish of chromatics in the middle of the Prelude as well as further strange harmonies found near the end of the movement that sound more like the swirls of Turkish, Arabic, or Jewish music that would have filled the streets of cosmopolitan Leipzig.
No. 5 - this suite hold a unique position amongst the Cello Suites for many reasons: it requires scordatura (the top string is tuned down from an ’A’ to a ‘G’), it is the only suite that was later transcribed for lute, and the Prelude is one the longest movements in the suites and the only one that incorporates a fugue and ends with a ‘tierce de Picardie’. Almost all of the dance movements fall into the French variety, and throughout the Fifth Suite the use of dotted rhythms is extensive. Perhaps the most enigmatic movement of all the Six Suites is the Sarabande from the Fifth Suite; stripped of chords, with no real melody or rhythmic shape, it has been suggested by the phenomenal British cellist, Steven Isserlis, that perhaps this movement depicts the darkest moments of Christ on the Cross, with the entire Fifth Suite unfolding like the Passion of Christ. At the risk of clouding this interesting image, I believe it worth mention the sogetto cavato that occurs at the ends of bars thirteen and fourteen of the Sarabande: [C/B/D/C#] spells [BACH].
N0. 6 - this suite, originally composed for the five-stringed viola pomposa, surpasses all the other suites in terms of virtuosic display. Wide leaps, fast passages, double-, triple-, and quadruple-stops, even when performed on a five-stringed instrument the technical control of the performer is put to the test. I have always regarded the architecture of this suite as interpretively problematic: the dazzling Prelude, and the sublime aria-like Allemande (if you don’t think it’s like an aria try counting out loud while playing!) account for more than half of the entire suite, which seems to evaporate into thin air with the terse gigue. After all of the tests and tribulations of this technical landmine, it’s tempting to end the Sixth Suite with a bravura finish (perhaps a celebration more of relief than victory?) when what is really called for is to allow the light-hearted Gavottes and Gigue to end ‘not with a bang but a whimper.’
Joseph Elworthy
Joseph Elworthy has been a featured soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician throughout Canada, the United States, Asia and Europe, performing on such stages as Alice Tully Hall, Suntory Hall, Carnegie Hall, the Library of Congress, and Seojong Hall. He has appeared on numerous television and radio broadcasts around the globe including CBC, Arts & Entertainment, BRAVO, PBS, Radio Europe, and NHK. His recordings can be heard on EMI, Sony, Achtype, and Bose record labels. In addition to receiving the Sylva Gelber Award of $15,000 from the Canada Council, Elworthy has been the recipient of multiple Canada Council career grants.
Joseph began his cello studies with Audrey Nodwell at the Vancouver Academy of Music and continued his training under the tutelage of Eric Wilson, with whom he studied for seven years. Elworthy spent numerous summers at the Banff Centre, where he first encountered the legendary cello pedagogue, Aldo Parisot. After high school, Joseph continued his studies at Yale University and the Juilliard School under the guidance of Mr. Parisot. Upon graduation from Yale, Mr. Elworthy was the recipient of the Aldo Parisot Prize - the highest honour issued by Yale University to a graduating cellist.
Mr. Elworthy has been a member of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra since 2002, and is currently Head of the Cello Department at the Vancouver Academy of Music, where he also serves as Director of Chamber Music and Conductor of the Intermediate Academy Strings. Many of Joseph’s students have been accepted to the finest music conservatories - Eastman, Curtis, Juilliard, the New England Conservatory - and are now active professional musicians occupying positions around the globe.
Joseph plays on a rare Ferdinando Gagliano circa 1760, that once belonged to the legendary German cellist, Hugo Becker.
Joseph and his wife Anastasia, are the proud parents of two beautiful girls, Heather and Hannah.
Acknowledgements
I wish to thank my family, especially my parents, for their tireless support. To all of my cello teachers, especially Mr. Parisot, I owe everything I have achieved to your expertise and powers of inspiration. To my dear colleagues at the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, with special gratitude to the cello section - Lee Duckles, Janet Steinberg, Zoltan Rozsnyai, Olivia Blander, Natshia Boyko, Charles Inkman, Cristian Markos - I have learned so much from you all. To the staff and administration at the Vancouver Academy of Music, in particular Jerold Gerbrecht and Mary Olson - you have given me the space and freedom to grow as a pedagogue and mentor. The purpose of this Bach recording project is to pay homage to someone who has effected my life in two very profound ways: endowing the Head of Cello Chair at the Vancouver Academy of Music, and the donation of a spectacular cello for my use - Gordon Young, words are simply not enough to express my gratitude. And finally for my wife, Anastasia, without your love I would be hopelessly lost.
Classical: Bach