Bachs Fugues
- danielpianoismypas
- Dec 2, 2015
- 11 min read

The silence hangs heavily in the air, creating a single moment where one can feel the weight of the absence of sound. But a lone D cuts through the stillness, a flicker of light amidst black oblivion. It is followed by eleven other notes, a simple melody, but one that will be the very core of one of the greatest musical masterpieces to ever be conceived. This twelve-note melody becomes entwined and enveloped in an intricate accretion of variations, counterpoints, and modified themes, all based on the original twelve-note motif. The entire collection of variations comprises what is considered to be Bach’s most ambitious undertaking, the Art of the Fugue, meant to serve as an intensive study of the fugue as an entity. Already a complex and multifaceted piece, Art of the Fugue gains a whole new level of depth and significance when placed inside its historical context,amidst the story of its creation and the demise of its creator. During the two hundred and fifty years of its existence, Art of the Fugue has acquired quite the reputation, as it has become enshrouded in a web of mystery and mystique. However, when we strip away these layers, the piece retains its magnitude, as the sheer mastery of the piece is enough to merit substantial renown and reverence. In the early 1740’s, Bach began work on what many consider to be his most monumental project ever, Art of the Fugue. Bach intended this piece to be an extensive study of “the art of fugal counterpoint,” exploring the possibilities and various outcomes that can be produced by manipulating a single theme (“The Art of the Fugue”). Bach was not commissioned to compose this piece, nor was the idea inspired or suggested to him by anyone else; in creating Art of the Fugue, Bach was “alone in his genius” (Herz, 4-5). The result of Bach’s endeavors was a collection of eighteen fugues, all in the same key, and all based on the same principle theme. This principle theme was modified and transformed into an astonishing number of over twenty different major variations and one hundred minor variations (“The Art of the Fugue”). Art of the Fugue is a piece of special interest not only because of its musical genius, but also because it has become endowed with an aura of mystique. This stems from the fact that one of the movements, Contrapunctus XIV, was left unfinished. By the late 1740’s, Bach was in the process of revising and finalizing Art of the Fugue. However, his chronic eyesight problems progressively worsened, and he was forced to resort to surgery. After two failed cataract operations, in 1750, Bach lost his sight completely for the last four months of his life (Herz, 5). Despite these adverse conditions, Bach continued work on Art of the Fugue until illness completely overtook him, forcing him to abandon his treasured masterpiece. There is a widespread misconception that because Bach was forced to forsake Art of the Fugue, it was his last creative work. However, during his illness, Bach was able to dictate a revision of one of his earlier chorales to a friend. This fact is generally overlooked, though, helping to perpetuate the myth and sensation surrounding this piece. It made a romantic story—that Bach died pen-in-hand—and one that Bach’s son Carl Philipp Emanuel (who supervised the works publication after Bach’s death) hoped would drive sales. Carl Philipp Emanuel began marketing Art of the Fugue as his father’s ‘last work,’ a story further embroidered in the 2nd edition of 1752, which stated that Bach ‘was surprised by his own death which overtook him while he was in the middle of completing the last fugue’ (“Art of the Fugue”). Even with the help of this marketing myth, however, Art of the Fugue was not well received at first. In fact, during the first five years after Bach’s death, only thirty copies of the printed edition sold (Herz, 4), and the copper engraving plates were sold as scrap metal (“Art of the Fugue”). This unpopular reception was partly due to the fact that the fugue was losing respect as an art form towards the latter half of the eighteenth century. The fugue fell out of favor, beginning in Bach’s lifetime... Bach was really the last exponent of the fugue and, after his death, the form virtually died with him… Bach's music—and with it the fugue—languished in obscurity for nearly a century. Even Mozart and Beethoven had to be introduced to the beauties of Bach's fugues by an aficionado, Baron von Swieten… and both composers began to incorporate fugal elements into their compositions. It was only in the mid-19th century—thanks to a revival begun by Felix Mendelssohn and Robert Schumann—that Bach's keyboard works, cantatas, and instrumental music made their way back into concert programs (“Art of the Fugue”). Even after the reemergence of Bach’s music, Art of the Fugue was often considered too abstract and abstruse. It is only in recent times that musical scholars have begun to excavate the treasure of Art of the Fugue and appreciate the minutiae of this piece. Scholars have started to question long-standing beliefs about the work, and solve some of the mysteries Art of the Fugue has to offer. Having stripped the piece of some of its romantic mystique, establishing through handwriting analysis and Bach’s personal correspondence that Art of the Fugue was indeed not his last creative piece and dispelling the myth that he died “pen-in-hand,” scholars have been able to focus on deeper questions and mysteries Art of the Fugue holds. Recently, many scholars have begun to ponder questions such as whether or not Bach intended Art of the Fugue to be performed, or if it was only meant to be a theoretical work, its sole purpose to be studied and appreciated for its applications of musical theory. Bach's contemporaries regarded Art of Fugue to be a practical work—one that would be both studied and played. C.P.E. Bach's advertisement announcing the first edition in 1751 mentions that Art of Fugue had been ‘arranged for use at the harpsichord or organ.’ Yet until recent decades it has been assumed that Bach intended Art of Fugue as a theoretical work only (“Art of the Fugue”). In 1905, Albert Schweitzer referred to Art of the Fugue as being a “purely theoretical work” (Herz, 3). The piece was first performed in concert halls in 1927, over 175 years after its publication. One reason for the widespread belief that Art of the Fugue was meant to be purely theoretical is the fact that Bach himself never specified which instruments were to be used to execute the piece. The fact that the music is “within easy reach of two hands, makes the harpsichord the most justifiable instrument for its performance” (Herz 3). This seems to be corroborated by the recently discovered advertisement published by C.P.E. Bach, promoting the piece, but it is not provable whether this was just a marketing ploy, or something actually conveyed to Carl Philipp Emanuel by his father. The fact remains that Bach himself never specified the instruments to be used. Further evidence to the claim that the piece is purely theoretical can be found in the actual manner that Bach wrote the music. It is written in “open-scoring” notation, where each voice is written on a separate staff. This “seemed to further confirm that Art of Fugue was ‘eye music’ only” (“Art of the Fugue”). It is unclear whether this part of the musical mystery will ever be solved. Another question currently being carefully scrutinized by scholars is whether or not Bach actually left Contrapunctus XIV “unfinished.” Opinion is still divided as to whether Bach left Contrapunctus XIV unfinished - the four-part fugue that was to crown Art of Fugue. The long-standing assumption was that Bach died in the midst of composing it, but new theories have arisen in the last few decades to explain its abrupt ending (“The Art of the Fugue”). One such theory is that Contrapunctus XIV does not belong to Art of the Fugue at all. Up to the point where the music drops off, the principle theme, which can be found in some form or another in all seventeen other movements, is completely absent. However, it seems likely that Bach intended to use it in the missing section, and some scholars have proposed various ways in which he could have done this (“Art of the Fugue”). Another possibility is that Bach did, in fact, finish Art of the Fugue, but that part of the manuscript was lost. This is based on differences between Bach's first manuscript (completed around 1742) and the published edition of 1751. For example, the first edition contains pieces added since the 1742 manuscript (Contrapuncti IV and XIV) for which no original materials exist. Did Bach prepare a final definitive manuscript before publishing Art of Fugue in the late 1740s? (“Art of the Fugue”). The final, and perhaps most interesting theory that has been proposed, is that Bach purposely left the piece “unfinished,” as a sort of musical puzzle, or an invitation to other composers to either guess his intentions or come up with their own solutions. Bach and other organists often challenged each other to fugal contests, a sort of ‘dueling keyboards’ in which one organist would begin a fugue and then suddenly hand off to the competitor, who continued and developed the theme (“Art of the Fugue”). This theory would certainly not be out of line with Bach’s eccentric personality, as he enjoyed leaving unobtrusive mysteries in his pieces, jewels to be beheld only by those clever enough to find them. One of these jewels is very curiously placed in the unfinished Contrapunctus XIV. Right before the piece trails off into nothingness, a new counter theme appears, consisting of the notes B♭, A, C, B♮. To most people, this would not have any special significance, but when taken in a different context, this short melody takes on a whole new connotation. In Germany, what we consider to be a B♭, they read as a B, and our B♮ is considered to be an H (Hofstadter 81). The counter-melody is then read B, A, C, H, becoming an immortal autograph, and considering its placement in the piece, an appropriate epitaph. In the original score, the ever-publicity-conscious Carl Phillip Emanuel wrote, “N.B. While writing this fugue where the name BACH is introduced as countersubject, the composer died” (Herz 5). Bach also found other ways to cleverly incorporate ingenious codes, or number symbolism into his art, while maintaining the inspired quality of music he is famous for. In the revision of the organ chorale that Bach dictated during his illness, truly his last piece of work, he “reveals his genius for number symbolism” (Herz 6). If you assign a number value to each letter in the alphabet (A=1, B=2, etc.), you are able to see many interesting encryptions hidden in Bach’s work. In the revised organ chorale, in the first phrase, there are fourteen notes, which, if we use our system, correspond to 2+1+3+8, or B-A-C-H. The remaining three chorale phrases are declaimed in twenty-seven notes, making it a total of forty-one notes. In the alphabet of Bach’s time, this would have corresponded to spelling out J.S. BACH (9+18+2+1+3+8). The last note of the chorale is held for three and a half measures, bringing back the “magic number” of fourteen beats (Herz 6). With the first fourteen notes (the first phrase), Bach ascribes the text, “I herewith step before thy throne.” Gerard Herz writes, With the twenty-seven notes of the three remaining chorale phrases, [Bach] recommends his soul to the Trinity. He signs the whole composition humbly as J.S. Bach by the forty-one notes that compromise the hymn tune. This seems to be the hidden personal message of Bach’s last chorale, of his final creative effort (Herz 6). Bach’s incredible ingenuity adds yet another level to the already multifaceted music he produced. If we strip away the mystique and myths enveloping Art of the Fugue, then disregard the possible mysteries that surround the piece, and even subtract the ingenious coding of Bach’s name into the piece, what are we left with? Even after tearing away all these peripheral intricacies, we are still left with an extraordinarily well-crafted and brilliant piece of music that stands alone in the realm of mastery. Many have unhesitatingly described Art of the Fugue as “perfect.” Perhaps the best description comes from Christoph Wolff, author of J.S. Bach: The Learned Musician. He says, [E]ven in its unfinished state, The Art of Fugue stands before us as the most comprehensive summary of the aged Bach’s instrumental language at the same time, it is a highly personal statement; the letters BACH woven into the final movement represent much more than a fanciful signature. Theory and practice merge in this work. By letting the substance of the musical subject be logically uncovered and systematically exhausted, by employing traditional and novel techniques of composition as well as old and new elements of style, Bach created an autonomous work of art that embodies the character and universality of his art (Wolff, 437). In its sheer technical aspects Art of the Fugue is an astounding piece of work. The original twelve-note motif is treated like an axiom, and from it, countless derivations are produced using various musical techniques and forms. These variations on the original theme range from the very simple to the extremely complex in nature. The movements are grouped together by type of fugue, and progress from the very basic to the exceedingly complicated. The first four movements, Contrapuncti I-IV, belong to the family of simple fugues. Contrapunctus I merely states the main theme, while Contrapunctus II alters the rhythm and Contrapuncti III & IV work on the principle of inversion (turning the main theme “upside-down” by making notes move in the opposite direction [up or down] from the original). Contrapuncti V through VII are all stretto fugues. In this set of fugues (V, VI, VII), Bach focuses on overlapping the voices rather than altering the principal theme. This is accomplished by stretto technique, meaning that the secondary voice (answer) enters before the subject is completely finished. The result is added intensity and complexity. The three stretto fugues are also counter fugues - the answering voice is an inversion of the principal voice (“Art of the Fugue”). These fugues use inversion as well as augmentation and dimunition (altering the length of the notes, usually doubling or halving their value). Up to this point, every movement has merely contained variations of the original principle theme. Contrapuncti VIII, IX, X, and XI introduce a number of counter themes to be played against the main theme. These are called Double (when there are two themes) and Triple (three themes) Fugues. Themes are carried from one movement to another, and varied using inversion, augmentation, and dimunition among other techniques. The fourth grouping of fugues (Contrapuncti XII & XIII) use “Mirror Themes.” A mirror fugue is a pair of fugues in which each voice (or line) in the second fugue is a mirror image of the first - where the first goes up, the other goes down… This requires Bach to play even more difficult games with his themes, since everything must be designed with its inversion in mind. Bach actually manages to achieve six different types of mirrors in these two pairs of fugues—a particularly stunning feat in that no matter how much Bach is bound up by the mirror fugue's strict techniques, he still manages to make the music dance (“Art of the Fugue”). Contrapunctus XIV was supposedly meant to be the second to last movement to Art of the Fugue, the crowning glory of the piece that was the crowning glory of Bach’s career. It was intended to be a Four Part Fugue, a very complex concept, difficult for many to even conceive of. In Art of the Fugue, there are also four canons to be included, although it is uncertain as to where in the piece they were meant to be played. All four canons follow the strictest counterpoint form, demonstrating Bach’s ability to stay within constraints while at the same time producing exceptional music. What began as a simple twelve-note theme was first encircled by the layering of other voices, distorted echoes of itself. These layered voices joined together around this core to form a fugue, which was in turn joined with other fugues based on the simple theme, creating a piece of eighteen movements, Art of the Fugue. As a whole, Art of the Fugue became enshrined in a shroud of controversy relating to the mystery of its creator’s intentions and the myths and mystique pertaining to his demise. In working backwards, or deconstructing Art of the Fugue, we are able to pull away the layers of mystery and mystique, and are left with the sheer mastery and genius of this work. And in this backwards fashion, we are left with another string of notes, not so very unlike the original twelve-note theme. Where Bach left off, one by one the voices drop out, and we are left with a measure of lone eighth notes in the tenor voice. As the layers fall away, this eerie string becomes all we can focus on. The last four notes are poignant, tragically beautiful in their vulnerability. The last note is a lone D, a final flicker of light that fades into black oblivion. The silence hangs heavily in the air, creating a single moment where one can feel the weight of the absence of sound. Bibliography “Art of the Fugue.” July 2000. Minnesota Public Radio. http://pipedreams.mpr.org/articles/artoffugue/indes.shtlml 7 Oct 2002. David, Hans T. The New Bach Reader, New York, Norton: 1999. Morana, Frank. “Bach in America: American Bach Society Biennial Meeting” The American Organist, July 2000. Fendt, Gene and David Rozema. Platonic Errors: Plato a Kind of Poet. Westport, CT, Greenwood Press: 1998. Wolff, Christoph. “The Last Fugue: Unfinished?”, Current Musicology, No. 19, 1975. ---, Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician. New York, Norton: 2000.
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