Cello Suite No 4 in E-flat

The Suite in E-flat Major shows a very different side of Bach’s creativity. From the outset Bach strikes an expansive tone. The prélude unfolds in steady eighth notes. Each harmony is played twice, allowing our ears ample time to process every chord change. By virtue of the slowly evolving harmonies, we actually begin to anticipate and seek out the next change. Does such breadth feel hypnotic and restful, or does it slow our inner time so much that our minds want to race ahead of the music? Even more significant in this respect, the E-flat major prélude includes a parenthesis that serves no structural purpose. Between the cadence at G minor in m. 45 and the identical arrival at G minor in m. 62, nothing structural occurs. That does not mean those measures are unimportant; quite the contrary, in fact. We are given a rare chance to hear how Bach plays, simply plays, as if he were unexpectedly given recess in the middle of a busy day. Eventually he brings us back to the tonic key for a recycling of the opening phrase. Back on familiar ground, we trust the opening theme will not lead us further astray.
The allemande of this suite is among Bach’s finest. Careful listeners will detect Bach’s use of harmonic sequences and his attempts to create a polyphonic texture alternating between high and low melodies. My ear is also drawn to the recurring leaps of a seventh interval. These leaps are striking in themselves, the seventh being one of Western music’s most dissonant intervals. But they also create a link to sevenths found in the other movements, as we will see. And while the prélude changed harmonies with leisurely élan, the allemande changes chords nearly every beat. In the face of such rapid turns, our minds can just sit back and let the composer take the wheel.
The sevenths play an important role in the following courante. At times Bach presents four successive sevenths in the midst of his harmonic pattern. But these are almost overshadowed by the rhythm, for this movement juxtaposes three different ideas: the earnest eighth notes of the theme’s head motif, which is answered by a feverish run of 16th notes and, later, triplets. These last appear nowhere else in the suite and can feel like the momentary intrusion of an unexpected guest.
The stately sarabande builds again upon the motivic seventh intervals that marked the allemande and courante. But here the effect is so different, where not a single superfluous note clouds the pure unfolding of Bach’s harmonic framework. There is a reason Bach’s chord progressions have become textbook examples. Yet he avoids being pedantic and predictable. For me, these harmonies are rich, subtle, at times complex—and my ear is always engaged. Particularly poignant is the use of the pitch D-flat at the very opening. Listeners may know that D-flat does not “belong” in the key of E-flat major. Its appearance here makes two points: first, it echoes the opening of the prélude, which also sounded a prominent D-flat; and second, it underlines the importance of the seventh interval to the suite as a whole.
The ensuing bourrées provide a respite of good cheer. Even though the sevenths are heard quite often, they never seriously undermine the buoyant mood. The second bourrée is even more open and rustic in its appeal. No chromaticism anywhere, and hardly a single dissonance. This is Bach at his most relaxed, and it’s not impossible that he is merely transcribing a dance tune actually heard in passing. The concluding gigue sprints toward its ending in continuous triplet 16th notes. In form, one would call it a traditional binary structure: Section A cadencing in the dominant key, and Section B returning to close in the tonic. However, Bach inserts a substantial episode in G minor. In addition, he also reprises Section A nearly in its entirety. This recalls the rounded structure of the prélude, but it also shows a touch of three-part form (ABA’) that would come to fruition in the classical era sonata form.

(c) Jason Stell