French Suites (complete)

Around a decade after writing these fantastic toccatas for harpsichord, Bach’s pedagogical impulse began to flourish prompted by the needs of his immediate family. His two eldest sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philip Emanuel, were reaching the age of ten around 1722 and ready for new musical challenges. Also, the widower Bach had remarried in late 1721 to Anna Magdalena Wilcke, a talented 20-year-old soprano. With these pupils in mind, Bach created early drafts of numerous keyboard works, including preludes and fugues (destined for the Well-Tempered Clavier) as well as the majority of his French Suites. Of the six suites eventually completed and grouped together, the first five appear in the “Notebook for Anna Magdalena” that Bach began compiling in 1722. The sixth suite was added about two years later.
The designation “French Suites”, descriptive as it may seem, probably misleads more than helps. One could argue that the most specifically “French” feature is the style of ornamentation. But apart from the concluding Gigue in Suite No. 1, there are no French Overture movements, and the dances are more often Italian in character. Bach himself never called the suites “French.” That task fell to posterity, which applied the label to distinguish them from Bach’s other sets of six suites. During his lifetime they were referred to as the “Little Suites”; the grander “English” Suites and Italian “Partitas” are rather more ambitious in scale and difficulty. On a program like today’s, what will come through clearly is the rhythmic precision of the suites as opposed to the toccatas’ irregularity. The French Suites charm through subtlety and melodic beauty, favoring refinement over display . . . well, perhaps they truly are French after all!
The opening suite in D minor includes the basic dance core of the suite as it had come to be defined by the early 18th century: Allemande, Courante, Sarabande, and Gigue. Allemandes had originated in German-speaking lands in the early 16th century, though it was in the hands of French and Italian composers that it became the standard opening movement. The Courante which follows is more lyric than most; compare the dynamic Italianate corrente from the C-minor suite on today’s program. The Sarabande is a particular highlight with its striking dissonance and grave majesty. The optional dances here are one or two Minuets (depending on which source the performer follows), and the suite closes with a contrapuntal Gigue.
Suite No. 2 in C minor typifies Bach’s matchless skill in writing ornamented singing lines on the keyboard. It was not customary at this time to write out all the appropriate decorations. Yet Bach does, and one would be hard-pressed to add an ornament that the composer did not already explicitly ask for. (The autograph is unfortunately lost; what we have today is based on comparison of numerous copies extant among members of Bach’s immediate circle.) The poignant Sarabande and capricious Air, juxtaposed at the heart of this suite, wonderfully complement one another.
Among the smaller suites, No. 4 in E-flat major nevertheless features some of the composer’s best music. The opening Allemande, which opens quite low in register, is a personal favorite. The warmth of E-flat major and frequent tonal motion toward the “flat” keys create an inviting mood—relaxed, unhurried, improvisatory. A sense of urgency returns momentarily with the jig-like Courante, but the Sarabande restores the initial calm. Bach’s added dances (a Gavotte and Air) move briskly and quickly through to the final contrapuntal Gigue, in which the A and B sections use a main theme and its inversion. More than many other Bach works, this suite succeeds equally well with seasoned performers, scholars, and music lovers. Just the right touch of sophistication and compositional magic, just the right balance of introspection and verve; in a word, and a French one at that, élan.

The Suite in B minor includes the basic core of the dance suite as defined by the early 18th century: Allemande, Courante, Sarabande, and Gigue. Allemandes originated in German-speaking lands in the early 16th century, though it was in the hands of French and Italian composers that it became the standard opening movement. This Allemande employs a touch of imitation and projects a searching quality. The Courante which follows is decidedly French in ornamentation, and the Sarabande, too, includes a skeletal melody that invites decoration ad libitum. One of the “optional” dances in this suite is a virtuosic Anglaise (a gavotte in all but name), whose position in the larger whole varies between different extant sources. When played before the Minuets, as it is by Mr. Schmidt, it builds energy after the Sarabande and allows the simple Minuets to contrast with the rumbling, contrapuntal Gigue.
The Allemande that opens the G-major Suite carries a wonderful balance between the unhurried first theme and touches of minor and chromatic intensity; the latter comes through in the rush toward the final cadence. Echoes of the Goldberg Variations (also in G major) abound in the brilliant two-part counterpoint of the Courante. The following Sarabande, which eschews the expected second-beat accent, shows just how far Bach’s dance movements have evolved from their traditional sources. In addition to the popular Gavotte, this suite includes a kind of slower gigue called a Loure, so-called after an older Norman instrument that creates a musette style texture.
One of the largest suites that Bach wrote—at least in number of movements—is the French Suite in E major, which includes eight separate dances! In one source it was even passed down with an additional opening movement, the Prelude in E major from the Well-Tempered Clavier. Bach swells the traditional four-movement core with a peasant-tinged Gavotte, a tuneful Polonaise, simple Minuet (not played today), and a Bourée. None of these, however, draw the spotlight away from the core movements, ranging from the graceful choreography of the opening Allemande to the crisp sixteenth notes and contrapuntal magic of the fugal Gigue. There is much here to delight listeners. But what has helped Bach’s suites to endure is their ability to satisfy both amateur and professional keyboardists.

(c) Jason Stell