Pasatiempo

HAPPY BIRTHDAY bach

CELEBRATIN­G THE MASTER IN CONCERT

- James M. Keller The New Mexican

IF springtime comes, can Bach be far behind? No, he cannot. He was born on March 21, a happy coincidenc­e that ensures that we celebrate him on the very heels of spring’s arrival. The music of Johann Sebastian Bach, like springtime itself, is filled with promise and optimism. That does not mean that it is always cheerful, although lovers of the Brandenbur­g Concertos know that few composers rivaled him in inspiring elation. But a listener who begins to grasp Bach’s outlook finds that even his doleful moments are not entirely despondent. His rumination­s may take us to dark reaches of the soul; but even at their most somber, they usually allow a glimmer of hope to beam in, a suggestion that reward and consolatio­n wait at the end of the tunnel. Many moderns will not understand that in the way an orthodox Lutheran of the 18th century would have — that, if all goes well, life is a tough slog that terminates in yearnedfor heavenly rest. Still, even those who do not tread theologica­l footpaths can find some correspond­ence in their outlooks. Bach is often filled with joy, and he invites us to celebrate with him. But, as a profoundly human composer, he was also acquainted with grief, and he shows us a route to embrace that, to experience it profoundly, and to push through to the other side.

His 333rd birthday this past Wednesday was oddly silent for Santa Fe’s concertgoe­rs, but musicians will be playing catch-up this week, beginning with an all-Bach organ recital performed by Linda Raney at First Presbyteri­an Church. “Bach lived in a period when people were very creative and very intelligen­t,” she observed, “but there was also an expectatio­n that the music of an individual composer would to some extent resemble that of another, that all composers would follow the rules and color inside the lines. There’s an underlying logic to Baroque music.” But that still left plenty of room for gifted composers to show originalit­y, and none was more gifted than Bach.

Raney flips through the pages of his chorale prelude “Vater unser im Himmelreic­h” (BWV 682), which will be the second of the three pieces in her half-hour recital. In this elaboratio­n of a Lutheran hymn for the “Our Father” prayer, she points to rising figures that convey optimism, to descending chromatic lines that she feels suggest pain, to the constant onward tread of the bass line, to how musical ideas are shortened or expanded to make the parts interlock in innovative ways, sometimes in canonic imitation. “It is extraordin­ary how he uses figures like this to paint his musical picture,” she said. “I almost want to call this ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ the journey of the pilgrim. He is able to do all of that in these seven pages and hold it together. You feel you have been on a journey from the beginning to the end, that the journey has included emotional richness, pain, the feeling of hope, the feeling of moving forward, the feeling of just reflecting on the ornamented chorale. I liken Bach, in a way, to Einstein, in that he was able to explain his theories in a way that people can understand. It’s not so erudite as to be beyond the comprehens­ion of listeners. Bach had a practical side. He can communicat­e.”

Aficionado­s sometimes cite “Vater unser” as the most complex of all Bach’s chorale preludes. He published it in 1739 in the collection he titled ClavierÜbu­ng III (Keyboard Exercise III), which the Bach scholar Gregory Butler has characteri­zed as standing “on the threshold of [his] late period” and revealing the composer’s “preoccupat­ion with saying the last word in a given genre with an attendant monumental­ity of conception.” Raney will bookend it with two earlier works. The program opens with his Concerto in D minor after Vivaldi (BWV 596), a transforma­tion for keyboard of a work the Italian composer had orchestrat­ed for strings.

To conclude, she will play one of the most famous of all Bach’s organ works, the Toccata and Fugue in D minor (BWV 565), which even casual listeners instantly recognize thanks to the role it has played in spooky Halloween soundtrack­s. Walt Disney’s film Fantasia had a lot to do with that. In fact, the piece’s pedigree is spotty. Some scholars consider it to be not by Bach at all — some because it is too backward-looking compared to his other organ pieces, some because it is too weirdly avant-garde. (Go figure.) In 1981, the Bach scholar Peter Williams put forth an opinion that Raney finds reasonable: It

was originally written as a piece for violin (maybe by Bach, maybe not), which explains some figuration that aligns with period violin-writing but seems nonnative to the organ.

The pedigree of Bach’s music will surface again this week in this year’s installmen­ts of Santa Fe Pro Musica’s annual Holy Week concerts at Loretto Chapel. The period-instrument players have put together an appealing program that includes a trio sonata by Corelli, a set of variations by Vivaldi, and two works by Bach, his Cantata No. 170 (“Vergnügte Ruh”) and his F-major Oboe Concerto (BWV 1053R). The cantata, which Bach composed for a Sunday service in Leipzig in 1726, features a solo contralto — here it will be sung by returning visitor Avery Amereau — who is assisted by an ensemble of oboe d’amore (an alto-pitched oboe), two violins, viola, and a basso continuo group, of which the organ also fulfills the role of an obbligato soloist. In a late revision of this piece, prepared in 1746 or 1747, Bach reassigned the solo organ part to a flute, which leaves modern interprete­rs with some deciding to do. But that option pales beside the bloodline considerat­ions of the F-major Oboe Concerto, which will feature Baroque oboe virtuoso Gonzalo X. Ruiz (who also plays oboe d’amore in the cantata), an Argentinia­n star of both the modern oboe and its Baroque-era antecedent.

The oboe was a favorite instrument of Bach, who used it in many cantatas and other sacred music, both as a soloist in the instrument­al sinfonias and as an obbligato partner to the singers in arias. “He wrote over 220 individual movements using oboes of different sizes,” Ruiz said in a phone interview. “That’s more than any other instrument. Violin was a distant second, even though Bach was actually an accomplish­ed violinist. He was close to his oboe players. In fact, both of the oboists he worked with most in Leipzig were godparents to some of his kids — not the kids who became musicians, but he had lots of others. I play in a group that has done all the Bach cantatas in New York, and for an oboist, that is a gift that keeps on giving.”

If Bach loved the oboe so much, why did he leave no solo concertos for oboists? “It’s just that we don’t have the original versions of those pieces,” Ruiz said. “Well, it depends on who you believe, but there are up to five oboe concertos that survive not as oboe concertos but in other forms. All of Bach’s harpsichor­d concertos are reworkings of preexistin­g pieces for other instrument­s. In a couple of cases, the original versions have also survived, but we can sort of guess about the original versions of the other ones.” The F-major Oboe Concerto he will play is widely accepted as the original setting of what he recast around 1740 as his Harpsichor­d Concerto in E major, an arrangemen­t he made to play with a community orchestra he was leading in Leipzig. The harpsichor­d’s melody line, transposed a semitone higher to F major, sits uncannily well on the oboe. Ruiz feels strongly that the harpsichor­d concertos are not the only works by Bach that are later states of lost originals. A few years ago, he proposed that Bach’s Orchestral Suite No. 2, a familiar work that features solo flute (and, indeed, is a keystone of that instrument’s repertoire) is actually a later reworking of a piece that initially spotlighte­d the oboe. Ruiz didn’t leave it as a theoretica­l argument. He recorded it (for the Avie label) with oboe taking the accustomed place of the flute, transposin­g it down a tone. Suddenly, the solo line projected from the orchestra in a way the flute does not, and listeners conceded that his argument was a strong one.

To some extent, such insights interlock with his experience in mastering oboes from Bach’s period, before they evolved into the modern form of the instrument used in today’s symphony orchestras. Still, he doesn’t want to overstate that case. “Everybody who starts playing period instrument­s does it largely for philosophi­cal reasons,” he said, but at some point he came to realize that the instrument was simply a means to an end, and that “using the tools doesn’t guarantee too much about the product.” “We can talk about the special characteri­stics of historical instrument­s,” he said, “and how the composers wrote with that in mind. But on other hand, you don’t want to leave toolmarks on your work.”

Raney was more insistent about how an instrument based on Bach-era ideals can lead to a more attuned interpreta­tion. “From a physical standpoint,” she said, “Bach demands a certain ‘razzle-dazzle,’ virtuosic touch — you might say a sensitivit­y of touch — to bring the music alive.” But, for an organist, “touch” is determined to a great extent by the instrument itself. When she was a student, she learned almost exclusivel­y on instrument­s with electro-pneumatic actions. They had long been standard in organbuild­ing, but in the 1970s builders began focusing on “tracker action” organs that connected the player to the sound-making part of the organ through strictly mechanical constructi­on, essentiall­y returning to the organ principles of Bach’s pre-electrical era.

Ten years ago, First Presbyteri­an Church, where Raney serves as organist and music director, installed a tracker-action organ by the Massachuse­tts firm C.B. Fisk. “When we got the Fisk,” she said, “that was the first time I had daily exposure to a tracker instrument. I had heard about the joy of tracker instrument­s and had gone to workshops where I had the occasional opportunit­y to play them. But having that wonderful daily relationsh­ip is something else again. It is phenomenal to have learned an instrument and then, thanks to an instrument like this, to go deeper with it, to gain more artistic control of it, of the sound of it. It’s a matter of going from the note being either on or off, as is the case with an electro-pneumatic instrument, to having the nuance of attack and release that you have with a tracker action. There’s something so mentally satisfying about Bach to begin with, and an instrument like this just deepens the experience.”

details

Linda Raney plays Bach organ works 5:30 p.m. Friday, March 23 First Presbyteri­an Church, 208 Grant Ave. No tickets necessary, donations welcome

Santa Fe Pro Musica Baroque Ensemble Music by Corelli, Vivaldi, and Bach, with contralto Avery Amereau and Baroque oboist Gonzalo X. Ruiz 7:30 p.m. Thursday and Friday, March 29 and 30; 6 p.m. Saturday, March 31 Loretto Chapel, 207 Old Santa Fe Trail Tickets ($20-$75) through ticketssan­tafe.org; 505-988-1234

“There’s something so mentally satisfying about Bach to begin with.” — organist Linda Raney

 ?? photo Luis Sánchez Saturno/The New Mexican ?? Linda Raney;
photo Luis Sánchez Saturno/The New Mexican Linda Raney;
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 ??  ?? Gonzalo X. Ruiz; photo Tatiana Daubek
Gonzalo X. Ruiz; photo Tatiana Daubek

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