Concerto in E-flat for fortepiano and harpsichord
Bach, Carl Phillip Emanuel (1714-88)
Program Note:
When the name Bach is mentioned in musical circles, the subject is almost invariably Johann Sebastian Bach. But it wasn’t always that way. In fact, when J.S. Bach died in 1750, the most famous member of the clan was his second son, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-88). Emanuel had been chosen by crown Prince Frederick to join the royal retinue, which put him alongside Europe’s cultural elite. Of course, it is not surprising to find C.P.E. Bach in such a prestigious post. His first teacher was his brilliant father, thus making the “nature versus nurture” question behind Emanuel’s genius something of a moot point. He prospered quickly in his musical activities, though he entered university ostensibly to study law. The summons from Frederick came when Emanuel was just 24 years old. Two years later Frederick became King and moved to Berlin, where Emanuel served as principal harpsichordist. From 1740 onward he began composing numerous keyboard sonatas, pieces that were often highly experimental in both form and content.
The Concerto in E-flat for harpsichord and fortepiano dates from the final year of C.P.E. Bach’s life; it is thus contemporaneous with the late piano concertos by Mozart. Bach left Berlin in 1768 to succeed Telemann in Hamburg. He had already written many keyboard concertos during his years in Berlin, though the time in Hamburg was largely given over to choral music. His lifetime places him squarely between the generation of J.S. Bach and that of the galant Mozart. Similarly, this concerto brings together two instruments that symbolize the generational split: J.S. Bach’s harpsichord and Mozart’s fortepiano. The concerto proposes a conversation between old and new, since the harpsichord was gradually being replaced by the hammer action piano.
The opening Allegro di molto features a comic, tripping motive as well as many of the abrupt, spontaneous gestures for which C.P.E. Bach is still best known. There is also an abundance of perpetual motion material à la Antonio Vivaldi. Harpsichord and fortepiano are generally handled separately; I sense a tangible strategy of “anything you can do” rivalry between the two solo lines. The middle movement, in the unexpected key of C major enters a more serene space. C major yields quickly to hints of F major, D minor, and A minor before returning to C to round out the thematic arch. Bach integrates the two keyboards at the smallest level. In fact, they dovetail so completely as to finish one another’s thoughts. A two-measure question from one soloist receives a complementary two-measure response from the other. The rousing finale moves back toward the comic side of the spectrum. There are moments where Bach appears as the Victor Borge of his day, turning the ponderous into humor and, in reverse, endowing the simplest gestures with comically inappropriate gravitas.
This double concerto deserves to be better known. One barrier to wider reception is ironically one of its most appealing features: the delightful combination of Baroque harpsichord and Classical fortepiano. That pairing is obviously harder to put together than two modern pianos. The SMF is pleased to be able to present this work in its original scoring.
(c) Jason Stell