While Telemann's concertos and Handel's keyboard suites contributed significantly to the instrumental repertoire, they generally remained with the conventional framework. Wherever possible, Bach chose to expand that framework.
from Christoph Wolff, "Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician"
J.S. Bach entered the service of Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen in 1717, after having been jailed by his previous employer Duke Wilhelm Ernst of Weimar for "too stubbornly insisting on his discharge." Bach's service at Cöthen appears to have been a bright spot during his life and career, at least at first. Despite the austerity of the Calvinist court -- only the plainest of music would be heard in the chapel -- Leopold's love of music ensured that Bach would be treated as an honored master.
And so he was, for a while. Sadly, the Prince's mounting expenses failed to keep up with revenues, while his second marriage to an "unmusical" wife drove a wedge between patron and musician and exacerbated Bach's steadily increasing sense of insecurity. In 1720 Bach applied for an organist position in Hamburg, a post which he may well have been offered but subsequently refused; by 1723 Bach had moved on to Leipzig, where he was to spend the remainder of his life.
Cöthen was a relatively isolated, provincial court dominated by the castle, or schloss, and the town's two main churches. Fortunately for posterity, the town's primary buildings have survived (despite some bomb damage during WWII), with the mirrored throne room of the schloss now serving as a concert hall.
Schloss Köthen today
The Bachsaal at Schloss Köthen, formerly the throne room
It had long been accepted that Bach wrote the bulk of his chamber and orchestral music for the Cöthen court, but recent scholarship has placed most of that literature later, during the Leipzig years and Bach's collegium musicum. However, Bach's time in Cöthen saw the composition of some of his best-known and loved works: the Brandenburg Concertos, the works for solo violin and solo cello, and some of the major clavier teaching pieces such as the Inventions and the first volume of the Well-Tempered Clavier.
The Brandenburg Concertos were not written explicitly for the Cöthen court, but for the Margrave of Brandenburg, hence the nickname. Bach may well have intended them as a job-hunting calling-card; if so, his attempt failed. Bach's beautiful manuscript languished in the Margrave's library, apparently untouched and unheard, until it was sold after the Margrave's death -- for a tad over $20 in modern currency.
The Margrave of Brandenburg
I have been thinking about the Brandenburgs a bit more than usual of late, not that they're ever all that far out of my mind. The Fifth Brandenburg serves as a teaching piece for my lectures at UC Berkeley and the SF Conservatory, as an example of just what can be done with ritornello form in the hands of an innovator like Bach.
No, that's not a typo: I said innovator. The old shibboleth about Bach being behind the times has long been due for a proper burial; Bach was no fuddy-duddy but a thoroughly au courant experimenter who was more than willing to stretch past the boundaries of the currently accepted idioms, styles, and forms. He may have seemed like yesterday's news to his oh-so-modern sons, but fathers inevitably seem so to their kids -- especially kids straining to establish their musical independence from such a powerful teacher-father.
The Brandenburgs offer prime evidence of Bach's resourcefulness and inventiveness. Each is a law unto itself, uniquely structured and scored. Bach never hesitated to depart from the established conventions of concerto grosso writing if he felt it necessary, even going so far as to blur the division between the tutti (full orchestra) and concertino (soloists) which traditionally informs most Baroque concertos.
The typical ritornello form sets a primary block of material -- confusingly also called the 'ritornello' -- against episodic, transitional passages. The ritornelli are given to the full orchestra (tutti) while the episodes are performed by the soloists (concertino), accompanied by continuo (i.e., bass string instrument plus keyboard.) The ritornello returns periodically throughout the movement (hence the "return" of the "ritornello") in a variety of keys sometimes including contrasting modes -- for example minor mode within an overall major mode context. In a traditional concerto movement, the ritornelli and episodes march along fairly predictably, with the movement ending in a full, or nearly-full, statement of the opening ritornello.
The Brandenburgs certainly respect that tradition, but Bach was perfectly capable of flipping expectations on their ear for musical purposes. The instrumental distinction -- that the orchestra plays the ritornello and the soloists the episodes -- isn't always maintained; the two can blur into a rapidly-shifting juggle of textures and instruments. Instrumentation amongst the Brandenburgs varies widely -- some are purely strings (3 and 6) while others feature signature instruments, such as the high trumpet of No. 2 or the flamboyant harpsichord solo of No. 5.
Bach throws down his gauntlet with the very first Brandenburg, which sports an unorthodox scoring for two hunting horns, three oboes, bassoon, violino piccolo, strings, and continuo. What a sound it makes! And how intriguing its formal characteristics, as Bach expands the traditional concerto form into a quasi-suite with a fourth movement made up of a series of dances. Each Brandenburg in turn comes up with its own surprises; there's not a dull moment anywhere, nothing that isn't marvelously worked-through and imaginatively made.
Recordings of the Brandenburgs abound. I've been savoring a recent vintage -- Richard Egarr conducting the Academy of Ancient Music, on Harmonia Mundi, a performance that exemplifies how far the "Historically Informed Performance", or HIP, movement has come. Unlike HIP's early days of bloopy horns, sour winds, and scratchy strings, today's best HIP performances stand firmly on their own, sporting secure and idiomatic playing and solid musicianship. Egarr and the Academy recording bring a splendid new addition to an already well-populated field.
I decided to indulge in the now-classic 1935 recording of the Brandenburgs from Adolf Busch and the Busch Chamber Players. One would think that players in 1935 -- geologic ages past in performance-practice years -- would slop romantically over the concertos, beef them up with extra instruments, or cutesy-poo them into near-oblivion. As it turns out, the Busch recordings have held up astonishingly well. Sure, they're modern instruments rather than Baroque, the continuo is on piano rather than harpsichord, and yes perhaps the playing is a bit more legato -- or determinedly non-legato -- than is the custom nowadays. But superb musicianship trumps all; styles may have changed, but excellence is excellence. (The recording's sound quality is every bit as classy as the performance -- deep, spacious, and clear.)
Allow me to direct you to Peter Gutmann's dandy overview of the Brandenburgs, which includes remarks about numerous recordings; this is a great place to start if you're contemplating acquiring some Brandenburg recordings, or you're just curious to find out more about these magical works.
You can find the Egarr/Academy and Busch recordings of the Brandenburgs at the iTunes Store as downloads, or from ArkivMusic on CD, or from Amazon, or just about all over everywhere. While you're at it, consider giving the Perlman/Boston Baroque recording a whirl. Note that the Egarr/Academy set, on Harmonia Mundi, is a dual-format SACD disc and thus might be worth coughing up the $40.00 purchase price if you have suitable playback equipment. Otherwise, iTunes Store offers it for half the price, and if you shop around, you can find it at various levels of sonic splendor and price points.
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