(The following is an excerpt from a forthcoming publication on Glenn Gould's 1981 recording of the Goldberg Variations by Johann Sebastian Bach.)
Johann Sebastian Bach’s Aria mit verschiedenen Veränderungen (Aria with Diverse Variations), BWV 988 was published in 1742 as the final part of his Clavierübung series, a four-part collection of keyboard works intended, as the title proposes, as pieces for “keyboard practice.” It is only the second piece by Bach in the variation form, by name, at least, the other being the earlier composed Aria variata in A minor, BWV 989 (an “unpretentious set,” as Glenn Gould unfavorably described it[1]). Certainly, Bach was no stranger to variations, for his output is rich with variation-type pieces, though with alternate names, such as chaconne and passacaglia. Bach would compose in the variation form one more time in the momentous Five Canonic Variations on “Vom Himmel hoch, da komm ich her”, BWV 769 of 1747, which likewise bore the word Veränderungen in the title. But none of these pieces is the type of theme and variations that would become wildly popular in the period after Bach’s death.
Johann Nikolaus Forkel, who published the first biography of Bach in 1802, seems to have been responsible for propagating the account of the work’s commission by an insomniac Dresden nobleman, who counted Johann Gottlieb Goldberg, a former student of Bach, as one of his employees:
We are indebted to Count Kaiserling, formerly Russian Ambassador at the Court of the Elector of Saxony, who frequently resided in Leipzig, and brought with him Goldberg, who has been mentioned above, to have him instructed by Bach in music. The Count was often sickly, and then had sleepless nights. At these times Goldberg, who lived in the house with him, had to pass the night in an adjoining room to play something to him when he could not sleep. The Count once said to Bach that he should like to have some clavier pieces for his Goldberg, which should be of such a soft and somewhat lively character that he might be a little cheered up by them in his sleepless nights. Bach thought he could best fulfill this wish by variations, which, on account of the constant sameness of the fundamental harmony, he had hitherto considered, as an ungrateful task.[2]
Hence, the moniker “Goldberg” Variations, which, for better or worse, has remained to the present day. However, recent scholarship has dismissed this anecdote as apocryphal. Christoph Wolff, for example, has noted:
However, all internal and external clues (lack of any formal dedication to Keyserlingk as required by eighteenth-century protocol, and Goldberg’s tender age of fourteen) indicate that the so-called Goldberg Variations did not originate as an independently commissioned work, but were from the outset integrated into the overall concept of the Clavierübung series, to which they constitute a grandioso finale.[3]
The title page of the score bears no dedication to the Count (or anyone else), and there is no evidence that Bach was financially compensated for the work. Other sources opine that Bach composed the work, in fact the Clavierübung collection as a whole, as keyboard practice for his eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann Bach, whose prowess as a harpsichordist was widely celebrated.[4]
The bass line of the opening Aria, originally composed in 1725 as part of the Notebook for Anna Magdalena Bach, assumes the role of the “theme” in each of the variations; otherwise, all of the Aria’s thematic material is disregarded.[5] This bass line, reduced to its basic form,
is presented in various guises in the succeeding variations and is one important ingredient that unifies the heterogeneous pieces of the collection. Or as Gould observed, somewhat belittlingly, “Indeed, this noble bass binds each variation with its own inexorable assurance of its own inevitability.”[6] However, the harmonies that accompany the bass line in the Aria are not invariably maintained. For this reason the piece as a whole could be described as a passacaglia, though lacking the formal continuity common to baroque passacaglias.
In addition to the unity provided by the Aria’s bass line, the Goldberg Variations proliferates in various forms of structure and coherence, factors which undoubtedly were of enormous appeal to Gould. The Aria, a sarabande, is in simple binary form, each of the two parts composed of sixteen measures, thus thirty-two measures in total. Each of the thirty variations is similarly in simple binary form, and surely it is no accident that the number of pieces in the collection totals thirty-two (Aria, thirty variations and a concluding Aria da capo). Thus, Bach composed a large-scale form derived from the small-scale form of the Aria.
Structural cycles are additional types of coherence that are pivotal in unifying the variations. One such cycle is based on a three-part grouping of pieces. Each of these cycles opens with a character piece (generally a stylized dance), is followed by an etude-like piece that exploits various keyboard figurations and concludes with a canon. There are ten such cycles, starting with Variations 1, 2 and 3 and concluding with Variations 28, 29 and 30. Another cycle, one that corresponds to the binary form of the Aria, is based on a grouping of sixteen pieces. The first part of this cycle begins with the Aria and extends through Variation 15. The second part opens with Variation 16 (an Overture in the French Style) and concludes with the Aria da capo. Thus, each part of this cycle comprises sixteen units, like each part of the Aria, another example of large-scale form determined by small-scale form. It is noteworthy the role played by the French overture in each of the Clavierübung sets, as centerpieces that mark the beginning of a new cycle or division. This is the case with the opening of Partita No. 4 from the first part of the Clavierübung (the only one of the six Partitas with an overture), the Overture in the French Style from the second part of the Clavierübung and the fughetta (without the fast fugal section) on “Wir glauben all an einen Gott” at the approximate center of the third part.
The nine canons in the collection deserve special attention. Each is distinguished by a unique harmonic interval (i.e. the interval of transposition between the first and second voices), beginning with a canon at the unison (no. 3) and concluding with a canon at the ninth (no. 27). Thus, this interval is determined by the variation number divided by three, a concept that is not musically relevant, but is appreciable and pleasurable in its own right. All canons comprise two voices with an accompanying bass line, with the exception of no. 27, which is in two parts without a bass line. Moreover, two of the canons are in contrary motion (nos. 12 and 15) and two are in the parallel minor (G minor, nos. 15 and 21).
One additional point of interest in the Goldberg Variations is Bach’s specifications of the number of manuals of the double-manual harpsichord for each variation. Donald Francis Tovey has observed something telling about the uniqueness of these markings in Bach’s music:
The directions “a 1 Clav” or “a 2 Clav”, which we find at the head of each variation, show not only that Bach was writing for a harpsichord with two manuals, but that he was unusually anxious that the player should use both manuals together at the appropriate passages—for there are, at least, three variations headed “a 2 Clav” which would be quite as easy to play on one manual; and in no other clavier-work does Bach trouble to make such indications, though he frequently wrote for a double-manual harpsichord. Bach is, then, writing here with even more than his usual attention to the circumstances of actual performance.[7]
Tovey’s comment regarding “the circumstances of actual performance” could be supplemented to read “the circumstances of keyboard practice,” for it is evident that all of the pieces in the Clavierübung sets were composed with this intent in mind. Those pieces with the directions “for two keyboards” generally feature voices that cross or overlap. The differing keyboards facilitate execution of parts and clarification of voice leading, and both matters can be compromised when these pieces are performed on a single piano keyboard.
The Goldberg Variations is certainly not the traditional type of theme and variations; in fact, there are few other examples of its kind. Bach seems to have composed a collection of “diverse variations” (without specifying the number of variations in the title) and then devised a number of elaborate organizational schemes to unify them. This might suggest that these schemes were afterthoughts, once Bach realized how truly diverse the pieces were becoming. There is no evidence that Bach ever envisioned a complete, integral performance of all of the variations at one time—that seems to be a modern practice—yet these thorough structural systems and cycles might suggest otherwise. The piece is an extraordinary example of diversity bridled by unity, factors which undoubtedly contribute to the power and enchantment of the piece as a whole.
[1] “The ‘Goldberg Variations’,” in The Glenn Gould Reader, 22.
[2] “Forkel on Bach’s life and Works,” in The Bach Reader, ed. by Hans T. David and Arthur Mendel. (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1972), 338.
[3] Christoph Wolff. Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician. (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 2001), 377.
[4] See Peter Williams. Bach: The Goldberg Variations. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 28ff.
[5] The attribution of this Aria to Bach has been a matter of dispute, and he may have disregarded the Aria’s thematic material, simply because he did not believe it worth preserving. Some scholars believe that Bach could not conceivably have been the composer of the Aria, and his decision not to preserve its material, other than the bass line, lends support to this argument. See David Schulenberg, The Keyboard Music of J.S. Bach. (Routledge, 2013), 377. In this sense, his apparent low regard of the theme of his variations is similar to Beethoven’s low regard of the theme Diabelli that provided for his variations.
[6] “The ‘Goldberg Variations’,” in The Glenn Gould Reader, 24.
[7] Donald Francis Tovey. “Aria with Thirty Variations” from Essays in Musical Analysis: Chamber Music. (New York: Dover Publications, 2015), 31–32.
Johann Sebastian Bach’s Aria mit verschiedenen Veränderungen (Aria with Diverse Variations), BWV 988 was published in 1742 as the final part of his Clavierübung series, a four-part collection of keyboard works intended, as the title proposes, as pieces for “keyboard practice.” It is only the second piece by Bach in the variation form, by name, at least, the other being the earlier composed Aria variata in A minor, BWV 989 (an “unpretentious set,” as Glenn Gould unfavorably described it[1]). Certainly, Bach was no stranger to variations, for his output is rich with variation-type pieces, though with alternate names, such as chaconne and passacaglia. Bach would compose in the variation form one more time in the momentous Five Canonic Variations on “Vom Himmel hoch, da komm ich her”, BWV 769 of 1747, which likewise bore the word Veränderungen in the title. But none of these pieces is the type of theme and variations that would become wildly popular in the period after Bach’s death.
Johann Nikolaus Forkel, who published the first biography of Bach in 1802, seems to have been responsible for propagating the account of the work’s commission by an insomniac Dresden nobleman, who counted Johann Gottlieb Goldberg, a former student of Bach, as one of his employees:
We are indebted to Count Kaiserling, formerly Russian Ambassador at the Court of the Elector of Saxony, who frequently resided in Leipzig, and brought with him Goldberg, who has been mentioned above, to have him instructed by Bach in music. The Count was often sickly, and then had sleepless nights. At these times Goldberg, who lived in the house with him, had to pass the night in an adjoining room to play something to him when he could not sleep. The Count once said to Bach that he should like to have some clavier pieces for his Goldberg, which should be of such a soft and somewhat lively character that he might be a little cheered up by them in his sleepless nights. Bach thought he could best fulfill this wish by variations, which, on account of the constant sameness of the fundamental harmony, he had hitherto considered, as an ungrateful task.[2]
Hence, the moniker “Goldberg” Variations, which, for better or worse, has remained to the present day. However, recent scholarship has dismissed this anecdote as apocryphal. Christoph Wolff, for example, has noted:
However, all internal and external clues (lack of any formal dedication to Keyserlingk as required by eighteenth-century protocol, and Goldberg’s tender age of fourteen) indicate that the so-called Goldberg Variations did not originate as an independently commissioned work, but were from the outset integrated into the overall concept of the Clavierübung series, to which they constitute a grandioso finale.[3]
The title page of the score bears no dedication to the Count (or anyone else), and there is no evidence that Bach was financially compensated for the work. Other sources opine that Bach composed the work, in fact the Clavierübung collection as a whole, as keyboard practice for his eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann Bach, whose prowess as a harpsichordist was widely celebrated.[4]
The bass line of the opening Aria, originally composed in 1725 as part of the Notebook for Anna Magdalena Bach, assumes the role of the “theme” in each of the variations; otherwise, all of the Aria’s thematic material is disregarded.[5] This bass line, reduced to its basic form,
is presented in various guises in the succeeding variations and is one important ingredient that unifies the heterogeneous pieces of the collection. Or as Gould observed, somewhat belittlingly, “Indeed, this noble bass binds each variation with its own inexorable assurance of its own inevitability.”[6] However, the harmonies that accompany the bass line in the Aria are not invariably maintained. For this reason the piece as a whole could be described as a passacaglia, though lacking the formal continuity common to baroque passacaglias.
In addition to the unity provided by the Aria’s bass line, the Goldberg Variations proliferates in various forms of structure and coherence, factors which undoubtedly were of enormous appeal to Gould. The Aria, a sarabande, is in simple binary form, each of the two parts composed of sixteen measures, thus thirty-two measures in total. Each of the thirty variations is similarly in simple binary form, and surely it is no accident that the number of pieces in the collection totals thirty-two (Aria, thirty variations and a concluding Aria da capo). Thus, Bach composed a large-scale form derived from the small-scale form of the Aria.
Structural cycles are additional types of coherence that are pivotal in unifying the variations. One such cycle is based on a three-part grouping of pieces. Each of these cycles opens with a character piece (generally a stylized dance), is followed by an etude-like piece that exploits various keyboard figurations and concludes with a canon. There are ten such cycles, starting with Variations 1, 2 and 3 and concluding with Variations 28, 29 and 30. Another cycle, one that corresponds to the binary form of the Aria, is based on a grouping of sixteen pieces. The first part of this cycle begins with the Aria and extends through Variation 15. The second part opens with Variation 16 (an Overture in the French Style) and concludes with the Aria da capo. Thus, each part of this cycle comprises sixteen units, like each part of the Aria, another example of large-scale form determined by small-scale form. It is noteworthy the role played by the French overture in each of the Clavierübung sets, as centerpieces that mark the beginning of a new cycle or division. This is the case with the opening of Partita No. 4 from the first part of the Clavierübung (the only one of the six Partitas with an overture), the Overture in the French Style from the second part of the Clavierübung and the fughetta (without the fast fugal section) on “Wir glauben all an einen Gott” at the approximate center of the third part.
The nine canons in the collection deserve special attention. Each is distinguished by a unique harmonic interval (i.e. the interval of transposition between the first and second voices), beginning with a canon at the unison (no. 3) and concluding with a canon at the ninth (no. 27). Thus, this interval is determined by the variation number divided by three, a concept that is not musically relevant, but is appreciable and pleasurable in its own right. All canons comprise two voices with an accompanying bass line, with the exception of no. 27, which is in two parts without a bass line. Moreover, two of the canons are in contrary motion (nos. 12 and 15) and two are in the parallel minor (G minor, nos. 15 and 21).
One additional point of interest in the Goldberg Variations is Bach’s specifications of the number of manuals of the double-manual harpsichord for each variation. Donald Francis Tovey has observed something telling about the uniqueness of these markings in Bach’s music:
The directions “a 1 Clav” or “a 2 Clav”, which we find at the head of each variation, show not only that Bach was writing for a harpsichord with two manuals, but that he was unusually anxious that the player should use both manuals together at the appropriate passages—for there are, at least, three variations headed “a 2 Clav” which would be quite as easy to play on one manual; and in no other clavier-work does Bach trouble to make such indications, though he frequently wrote for a double-manual harpsichord. Bach is, then, writing here with even more than his usual attention to the circumstances of actual performance.[7]
Tovey’s comment regarding “the circumstances of actual performance” could be supplemented to read “the circumstances of keyboard practice,” for it is evident that all of the pieces in the Clavierübung sets were composed with this intent in mind. Those pieces with the directions “for two keyboards” generally feature voices that cross or overlap. The differing keyboards facilitate execution of parts and clarification of voice leading, and both matters can be compromised when these pieces are performed on a single piano keyboard.
The Goldberg Variations is certainly not the traditional type of theme and variations; in fact, there are few other examples of its kind. Bach seems to have composed a collection of “diverse variations” (without specifying the number of variations in the title) and then devised a number of elaborate organizational schemes to unify them. This might suggest that these schemes were afterthoughts, once Bach realized how truly diverse the pieces were becoming. There is no evidence that Bach ever envisioned a complete, integral performance of all of the variations at one time—that seems to be a modern practice—yet these thorough structural systems and cycles might suggest otherwise. The piece is an extraordinary example of diversity bridled by unity, factors which undoubtedly contribute to the power and enchantment of the piece as a whole.
[1] “The ‘Goldberg Variations’,” in The Glenn Gould Reader, 22.
[2] “Forkel on Bach’s life and Works,” in The Bach Reader, ed. by Hans T. David and Arthur Mendel. (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1972), 338.
[3] Christoph Wolff. Johann Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician. (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 2001), 377.
[4] See Peter Williams. Bach: The Goldberg Variations. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 28ff.
[5] The attribution of this Aria to Bach has been a matter of dispute, and he may have disregarded the Aria’s thematic material, simply because he did not believe it worth preserving. Some scholars believe that Bach could not conceivably have been the composer of the Aria, and his decision not to preserve its material, other than the bass line, lends support to this argument. See David Schulenberg, The Keyboard Music of J.S. Bach. (Routledge, 2013), 377. In this sense, his apparent low regard of the theme of his variations is similar to Beethoven’s low regard of the theme Diabelli that provided for his variations.
[6] “The ‘Goldberg Variations’,” in The Glenn Gould Reader, 24.
[7] Donald Francis Tovey. “Aria with Thirty Variations” from Essays in Musical Analysis: Chamber Music. (New York: Dover Publications, 2015), 31–32.
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