Michael Houstoun and “the 48”: insight into Bach’s genius
The 17th Fugue in Book 1 of J S Bach’s famous Well-Tempered Clavier is one of the big ones. Bach calmly lays out his fugue subject, a simple 7-note melody that implies a straightforward harmonic progression away from the fugue’s key of A flat minor. He then builds a magnificent edifice in four-part harmonically-infused counterpoint, incorporating his flowing countersubject, many inversions of the subject, telling chromaticism, a building of tension as layers pile up, and a satisfying resolution.
On his latest album, a complete collection of all 48 Preludes and Fugues on four discs, pianist Michael Houstoun plays the challenging 17th fugue with effortless flow. Always maintaining a nice balance between the four lines, he brings no unnecessary emphasis, makes minimal use of dynamics to underline the structure, and employs a judicious broadening of tempo before the final A flat chord.
I chose this example in part because it exemplifies both Bach’s genius and Houstoun’s approach to the so-called “48”. From the very first famous C major Prelude in Book 1, the pianist lays out his intentions. Houstoun’s interpretation is, as usual, unfussy, allowing this marvellous music to speak for itself, with the most sparing use of tempo flexibility to underline harmonic direction and increasing complexity.
Johann Sebastian Bach
…his wonderful Preludes and Fugues offer their own advice about tempo and other interpretative matters
Bach wrote Book 1 of the Well-Tempered Clavier, comprising 24 Preludes and Fugues in all the major and minor keys from C major to B minor, in 1722, when in charge of music for the Prince of Anhalt-Cöthen. On his title page he wrote “For the profit and use of the studious musical young, and also for the special diversion of those who are already skilful in this study.” Book 2, another 24 pairs of Preludes and Fugues, followed some 20 years later.
The pedagogical purpose of “the 48” continues to this day, most young pianists tackling at least one or two of the pairs at some stage in their studies. Of course, these works were not written for piano. Bach didn’t specific an instrument for these keyboard works but they are assumed to have been intended for harpsichord, clavichord or organ. Houstoun rightly uses a fairly plain, neutral piano timbre, often with an airy and disarming lightness.
Nor do Bach’s manuscripts offer the performer much in terms of interpretation. With only a couple of exceptions, there are no tempo indications, no suggestions about dynamics nor articulation. The wonderful music, of course, offers its own advice. Most performers will choose tempi that allow for contrapuntal clarity, and that will reveal Bach’s masterly use of implied harmonies, often complex and chromatic, within the counterpoint.
Houstoun has marvellous facility at the keyboard, and in the faster or more decorative Preludes and sometimes joyous Fugues, he shows his brilliance in repeated sequential semiquaver figures and light, rapid, sometimes bouncing passages. But his artistry is also evident in his control of the big four- or five-part serious fugues, which he unfolds with ease, delineating the separate lines and always maintaining the integrity of the chromatic harmonies.
Of course, some of this works because of Bach’s own virtuosity as a contrapuntist. His musical textures allow the fugue subject its place, its arrival never laboured. Houstoun sometimes uses Bach’s little rhythmic figures to bring out a fugal subject, never heavy-handed, always clear about which lines are foreground, which accompanying.
Houstoun has also added subtitles for the 96 works, as a way of differentiating their different characters, with words like “Whirling”, “Bravado” and “Wistful”. Some of the names are enigmatic – “Maybe..maybe not” for the A minor Prelude in Book 2, or “Failed aspiration” for a Book 1 Prelude.
For the 17th Fugue, my first example above, he offers the rather grand phrase “Nobility of the Quotidian”. It could indeed be a title for the complete set. This is “everyday” music which contains its own magnificent nobility.
One of the pleasures of this album is Houstoun’s understanding of Bach’s intentions. The 8th Fugue in Book 1 in D# minor is another example of this insight. Houstoun subtitles this long and substantial work “Legend”, no doubt a reference to the composer himself. It’s a masterclass in fugal writing, all about its subject (unusually there is no countersubject).
With admirable restraint and unobtrusive skill Houstoun allows it all to unfold in its stately complexity. The music itself provides the drama, building to the stretto sections (where fugue subjects overlap), used, as is customary, to pile on the tension near the end of the fugue.
Pianist Michael Houstoun
…his understanding of Bach’s intentions is one of the pleasures of his new album.
Photo credit: Pete Monk
The Fugues are mostly, though not always, more substantial and serious than the Preludes. In Book 2, an older Bach has created some particularly extended, grand and complex structures, in both Preludes and Fugues. In the 22nd Fugue Bach added staccato dashes to the fugue subject on his pupils’ manuscript, a rare example of an authentic indication of articulation, allowing the pianist to mark out the subject within the texture.
Houstoun has called this Fugue “Day of Judgment” – it might indeed be judgment day for a young pianist attempting to make sense of the counterpoint of yet another mighty construction. They would do well to listen to Houstoun’s version – he is fully in charge of the four lines, displaying a masterly understanding of Bach’s structure and textural complexity.
Several of the Book 2 Preludes have the binary form, with repeats, of a Baroque keyboard sonata. Houstoun creates a charmingly dancing style when needed, as in the jig in 12/8 time of the 4th Fugue, a sarabande in the 17th Prelude and a conversational minuet in the 21st Fugue.
Like most pianists, Houstoun makes sparing use of the sustaining pedal in this music. Clarity in the ever-shifting, often chromatic harmonies in Bach’s counterpoint is all-important and a legato melodic line when needed can be achieved in other ways. In the 11th F major Prelude of Book 1, he used the pedal much more than elsewhere. Houstoun’s subtitle “Organ playing in the empty cathedral” suggests he was seeking a more resonant effect. The result is a blurring of the lovely flowing lines, deliberate, no doubt, but I wonder how Bach might have reacted.
Of course, Bach left a deliberately blank slate with respect to many aspects of interpretation and Houstoun, with his subtitles, is offering the listener clues to his own thoughts about these pieces. Are titles necessary? Isn’t this music, quite simply, “about” the architecture of music itself?
Houstoun acknowledges in his introductory note that he is on “slippery ground”, but, in a recent interview, explained his views further.
“If a pianist is mad enough to want to perform the ‘48’ the most obvious danger is that they will end up sounding too alike,” he said. “Character becomes all-important in differentiating them. The happiest part in learning them all was the search for their specific characters – my titles are only suggestions and can be dismissed without harm.”
Houstoun’s Well-Tempered Clavier album is a magnificent achievement. It was recorded after he had performed them, promoted by music teachers, in several New Zealand cities. They will be a terrific resource for those teachers and their students, thus continuing to fulfil Bach’s own pedagogical purpose.
But I highly recommend them as well for all music-lovers and listeners. Houstoun has indeed captured the character of 96 extraordinarily varied short compositions. He has also revealed Bach’s profound mastery of composition, particularly Baroque counterpoint, in music that also demonstrates the power of the art form to express the full gamut of human emotions.
Houstoun called the A flat Fugue in Book 2 “Human Perfection”. The complete “48” is indeed a much-needed example of the best of our humanity in an imperfect world.
Michael Houstoun The Well-Tempered Clavier by Johann Sebastian Bach (Rattle). Purchase link here.