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This, surely, must be the one mentioned in the above letter.

In 1760, Bach published six sonatas with varied repeats (_mit veranderten Reprisen_), dedicated to Princess Amelia of Prussia. In the preface the composer remarks that "nowadays change or repet.i.tion 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 repet.i.tion 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 cla.s.sical 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, compa.s.s, 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 lat.i.tude should, therefore, be allowed to the transcriber; hard-and-fast rules in such a delicate task are impossible. The late Dr. Bulow edited six of Emanuel Bach's sonatas,[67] and though he was well acquainted with the composer's style of writing, his anxious desire to present the music in the most favourable light sometimes led him to make changes of which even lenient judges would not approve. The matter is an interesting one, and we may therefore venture to refer somewhat in detail to one pa.s.sage. In the 3rd Sonata (F minor) of the 3rd Collection, the pa.s.sage--

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has been changed by Bulow: he has altered the C flat in the second half of the first bar into a C natural, thus smoothing down the hard progression to the key of B flat minor. Now this very pa.s.sage had already, nearly a hundred years previously, attracted the notice of Forkel, who admitted that, apart from the context, it jarred against his musical feeling. But he had thought over the composer's intention in writing that sonata, and had come to the conclusion that, in the opening Allegro, Bach wished to express indignation.[68] He therefore asks: "Are the hard, rough, pa.s.sionate expressions of an angry and indignant man beautiful?" In this case, Forkel was of opinion that the hard modulation was a faithful record of what the composer wished to express.[69] The natural order of history seems inverted here. One would have expected Forkel to look upon the music from an abstract, but Bulow from a poetical point of view. C.H. Bitter--also on purely musical grounds--condemns Bulow's alterations. He says:--"Even weaknesses of great masters, among which the pa.s.sages in question are not to be counted, still more so, special peculiarities, should be left untouched. What would become of Beethoven, if each generation of musicians, according to individual judgment, arrogated to itself the right, here and there, of expunging hardnesses, smoothing down peculiarities, and softening even sharp points with which, from time to time, we come into unpleasant contact? Works of art must be accepted as they are."

The first part of Bitter's argument is sound; but, unfortunately for the last, the writer in his life of Emanuel Bach and his brothers insists on the necessity of _not_ accepting Emanuel's clavier works _as they are_.

He quotes a pa.s.sage from the Andante of the 4th Sonata of the second set of the "Reprisen Sonaten," and comes to the natural conclusion that it was only an outline requiring filling up.

With all his faults, one cannot but admire the spirit in which Bulow worked. He felt the greatness of the old masters, regretted the limited means which they had at their command, also the stenographic system in which they were accustomed to express their thoughts; and he sought, therefore, to make use of modern means, and thereby was naturally tempted to introduce modern effects. The restoration of the old masters is a difficult and delicate task, and in most cases, one may add, a thankless one. In the matter of transcription, however, it is important to distinguish between a Bulow and a Tausig: the one displayed the intelligence of an artist; the other, the thoughtlessness of a _virtuoso_.

But what, it may be asked, is the character of the changes made by Bach? The matter is of interest; by examining these sonatas, we get some idea of the difference between letter and spirit. However, from what we have said above, a mere imitation of these changes, in playing Bach's music, would, in its turn, be letter rather than spirit.

As a rule the ba.s.s remains the same, though plain crotchets may become quavers, as in extract from Sonata 1 given below, or notes turned into broken octaves--

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or, at times, some very slight alteration may occur, such as--

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In the upper parts the changes are similar to those found in the variations of Haydn and Mozart. An ill.u.s.tration will be better than any explanation, and we accordingly give a brief extract from the 1st Sonata: first the five bars of the Allegretto, as at the opening, then as they are changed--

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The publication of the set of six Leipzig collections of sonatas, etc., commenced in 1779; but thirteen years previously, the composer had published a set of "Sechs Leichte Clavier Sonaten," and these, in one or two respects, are curious. The opening movement of No. 6 has no double bars, and, therefore, no repeat of the first section. And again, it has a coda pausing on the dominant chord and followed by an Andantino. This second movement, peculiar in form and modulation, ends on the dominant of F, leading directly to the Presto.

The opening of the Larghetto of No. 2--

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was probably the prototype of many a theme of the cla.s.sical masters.

The works by which Emanuel Bach is best known are the six collections of sonatas, rondos, and fantasias published at Leipzig between 1779-1787. The composer died in 1788. The 1st Collection (1779) bears the t.i.tle "Sechs Claviersonaten fur Kenner und Liebhaber," and, in fact, contains six sonatas. But "nebst einigen Rondos" (together with some Rondos) was already added to the t.i.tle-page of the 2nd and 3rd Collections; and to the remaining ones, the still further addition of "Freye Fantasien."

For the sake of reference, the list of sonatas is subjoined--

Coll.

(1779) 1 Sonata in C 1773 Hamburg.

" " " F 1758 Berlin.

" " " B minor 1774 Hamburg.

" " " A (Bulow No. 3) 1765 Potsdam.

" " " F 1772 Hamburg.

" " " G (Bulow No. 4) 1765 Potsdam.

(1780) 2 " " G 1774 Hamburg.

" " " F 1780 Hamburg.

" " " A (Bulow No. 2) 1780 Hamburg.

(1781) 3 " " A minor 1774 Hamburg.

" " " D minor (Bulow No. 5) 1766 Potsdam.

" " " F minor (Bulow No. 1) 1763 Berlin.

(1783) 4 " " G 1781 Hamburg.

" " " E minor 1765 Berlin.

(1785) 5 " " E minor 1784 Hamburg.

" " " B flat 1784 Hamburg.

(1787) 6 " " D 1785 Hamburg.

" " " E minor 1785 Hamburg.

Without copious musical examples, an a.n.a.lysis of these eighteen sonatas would prove heavy reading. It will, therefore, be easier for the writer, and certainly pleasanter for his readers, to give a somewhat "freye Fantasia" description of them, laying emphasis naturally on points connected with the special purpose in view.[70]

In the matter of tonality there are some curiosities. When Beethoven's 1st Symphony appeared, the opening bars of the introduction became stumbling-stones to the pedagogues of that day. The work was, without doubt, in the key of C major; yet, instead of opening with the tonic chord of that key, the composer led up to it through the keys of the subdominant, relative minor, and dominant. No wonder that such a proceeding surprised conventional minds, and that the critics warned Beethoven of the danger of "going his own way." But his predecessor, Emanuel Bach, had also strayed from the pedagogic path, a narrow one, yet, in the end, leading to destruction. In the first book (1779), the 5th Sonata (as shown by the whole of the movement, with exception of the two opening bars) is in the key of F major, yet the first bar is in C minor (minor key of the dominant) and the second, in D minor (relative minor of the princ.i.p.al key).

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There were, no doubt, respecters of tonality also in Emanuel Bach's day, to whom such free measures must have seemed foolhardy. While composing this sonata Bach was, apparently, in daring mood. The slow middle movement in D minor opens with an inversion of the dominant ninth, and the Finale in F thus--

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Of the character of the first section of movements in binary form we have already spoken in the introductory chapter.

In the matter of development, the Bach sonatas are in one respect particularly striking; the composer seems to have resolutely turned away from the fugal style, and in so doing probably found himself somewhat hampered. Like the early Florentine reformers, Bach was breaking with the past, and with a mightier past than the one on which the Florentines turned their back; like them, he, too, was occupied with a new form. Not the music itself of the first operas, but the spirit which prompted them, is what we now admire; in E. Bach, too,--especially when viewed in the light of subsequent history,--we at times take the will for the deed.

We meet with much the same kinds of development as in Scarlatti: phrases or pa.s.sages taken bodily from the first section and repeated on different degrees of the scale, extensions of phrases, and pa.s.sage-writing based on some figure from the exposition, etc. The short development section of the Sonata in G (Collection No. 6) offers examples of the three methods of development just mentioned. Bach, like Scarlatti, was a master of his instrument, and even when--as was said of Mendelssohn--he had nothing particular to say, he always managed to say that little well. E. Bach has already much to suffer in the inevitable comparison with Beethoven; and the fact that we have the full message of the one, but not of the other, no doubt accentuates the difference.

In many ways Bach reminds one of Beethoven. There are unexpected fortes and pianos, unexpected crescendos and diminuendos. Of such, the n.o.ble Larghetto in F minor of the Sonata in F (Collection 1779, No. 2) offers, indeed, several fine examples. Particularly would we notice the pa.s.sage just before the return of the opening theme; it begins _ff_, but there is a gradual decrease to _pp_; the latter seems somewhat before its time, and therefore surprises. Then, again, we meet with out-of-the-way modulations. Bach was extremely fond of enharmonic transitions,[71] and the same can be said of Beethoven in both his early and his late works. The means employed by the two composers may be the same, but the effect is, of course, always more striking in Beethoven, whose thoughts were deeper, and whose means of expressing them were in every way more extended. And once again, in some of the forms of melody, in figures and pa.s.sages, traces can be found of connection between the two masters. To our thinking the bond of union between E. Bach and Beethoven is stronger than the oft-mentioned one between the early master and Haydn: Haydn was practically Bach's pupil; Beethoven, his spiritual heir. This it is which gives interest to any outward resemblances which may be detected, not the resemblances themselves.

In Bach's six sonatas of 1742 the movements are detached. But the opening movement (an Andante in sonata form) of the 2nd Sonata of the Leipzig Collection of 1779 ends with a few bars in canonic form (and with quaint Bebung effect), leading without break to the following Larghetto. The next sonata also connects the second with the third movement. In the above case the change was merely from the key of tonic major to that of minor; but here the movement is in G minor, and an enharmonic modulation leads to the dominant of B minor, key of the final movement. The sonata begins in B minor, and the choice of the remote key of G minor for the middle movement is somewhat curious.

Sonata No. 4 connects first and second movements; and the third is evidently meant to follow without pause. It must, however be remembered that the majority of the Leipzig sonatas do not have the various movements thus connected. It therefore seems to have been an experiment rather than a settled plan. Examples of the connection of movements are also to be found in Nichelmann and J.C.F. Bach. The same thing may be seen in some of Haydn's sonatas (Nos. 18, 22, etc.), while Beethoven offers a remarkable instance in his sonata, Op. 57.

The 1st Sonata of the 2nd Collection pa.s.ses from the first to the second movement (Allegretto, G minor; Larghetto, F sharp minor) in a curious manner, by enharmonic means. The last bar has--

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The quotation is in abbreviated form. The second chord would, of course, be taken at first as dominant minor ninth on G. The 1st Sonata of the 4th Collection is not striking as music, and certainly not of sufficient importance to justify serious inquiry into the peculiar order of keys for the three movements (G, G minor, and E major).

With regard to the number of movements, all except two of the eighteen sonatas have three; the second and third of the 2nd Collection have only two.

John Christian Bach, or the "London" Bach, as he was called, dedicated his fifth work, consisting of six sonatas "Pour le clavecin ou pianoforte," to Ernst, Duke of Mecklenburg. This cannot have been before 1759, as that was the year in which the composer came to London. He describes himself on the t.i.tle-page as--"Maitre de Musique de S.M. la Reine d'Angleterre." These sonatas, as we learn from the dedication, were written for the "amus.e.m.e.nt" of the Duke. The first, third, and fourth have each only two movements. They remind us less of E. Bach than of Haydn's early style. There is some very fresh, pleasing writing in them. No. 5 has some excellent practising pa.s.sages, and perhaps the following--

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may have suggested to Cramer his first study. The middle movement of No. 6 is a vigorous double Fugue; the whole sonata is, indeed, one of the finest of the set.

A Sonata in D, by Wilhelm Friedmann Bach, is commented on by Dr. Parry in his "Sonata" dictionary article. There is another one in C major, a fresh and vigorous example of a musician whose powers were never fully developed.