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Sequential chromaticism and “modal mixture” in Louis Vierne’s “Toccata”

Jonathan Bezdegian

Jonathan Bezdegian received his Doctor of Musical Arts degree from the University of Washington in March 2018. He works at Assumption University in Worcester, Massachusetts, as campus minister for liturgical music and mission trips, lecturer in music, and instructor of organ. He is the past dean of the Worcester Chapter American Guild of Organists.

Louis Vierne

The “Toccata” from Louis Vierne’s 24 Pièces de Fantaisie was composed in Paris in December 1926. It was published as the final composition in the “Deuxième suite,” opus 53, in September 1927 by Lemoine. “Toccata” is dedicated to Alexander Russell,1 the director of music for the Wanamaker store in New York City and the first Frick Professor of Music at Princeton University. He also served as Vierne’s eastern manager for his 1927 American concert tour. 

As Vierne’s American concert manager, it seems obvious that Russell would bring Vierne to Princeton University as part of his American concert tour. However, this was not the case. There is no mention of a concert or of Vierne even visiting Princeton in university documents or publications. Rollin Smith makes a definitive statement after compiling this information, “Obviously Vierne never came to Princeton.”2, 3 Regardless, Vierne’s visit to America was of paramount importance to his organ compositions, especially his 24 Pièces de Fantaisie

Regarding “Toccata,” many do not realize the significance of a unique detail in its registrational scheme. Vierne calls for the addition of super couplers (octaves aiguës) in measures 148 (via the Récit) and 156 (via the Positif); it was his way of paying homage to American organ building.4 This is the first time Vierne calls for the use of these couplers in his 24 Pièces de Fantaisie. More importantly, the specification of the 1868 rebuild of the Cathedral of Notre Dame organ by Aristide Cavaillé-Coll in Paris did not have super couplers—there were only sub couplers (octaves graves) on all five manuals.5

While super-octave couplers were not yet used by organbuilders in France at the time, American organbuilders incorporated these couplers and other novelties in their consoles. Vierne experienced these features during his American tour and was quite impressed.6 Thus, it seems only fitting that he wanted the performance of his music to adequately showcase instruments constructed by American builders. 

Compositional matters in “Toccata” require particular attention. Close study of this popular and intense work reveals an abundance of sequential material, the combination of Gregorian modes with modes of limited transposition, and more structured use of harmony when compared to other works from 24 Pièces de Fantaisie. Analysis of Vierne’s organ music is certainly a challenge. The “Toccata” reveals many strange situations that require a unique understanding of modes and functional harmony. The goal of this article is to aid in the clarification of these situations.

The toccata’s form is ABA′ with coda. Throughout the composition, Vierne uses B-flat and D minor scales, C-sharp Phrygian mode, and modes 1, 2, and 3 from the modes of limited transposition. Vierne was not an advocate of structured harmonic writing. When studying his organ works, one is immediately struck by the characteristics of intense chromaticism and moving from one chord (or scale/key center) to another with virtually no warning or apparent methodology—that is the point. This attribute makes his organ music spontaneous, organic, and exciting. For Vierne, freeing himself from the bonds of structured compositional practices allowed him to make music in a natural, more musical way.7

The first two pages of the score present a relatively straightforward analysis using the B-flat (melodic) minor scale (note the copious use of G- and A-naturals throughout).8 The first three pages outline the A theme.9 Below is an analytical chart of measures 1–23. The chart below contains the measure, scale, and chord found in each:

Measures 1–4, B-flat minor i

5 VI7-i

6 i-III+

7–8 VI6

9 iiØ7

10 IV7

11–12 vii°7/V (dom. pedal)

13 V

14–15 i

16–17 VI7

18 bII7

19 iiØ7

20–23 vii°7/V (dom. pedal)

The next seven measures contain a descending chromatic sequence. Measures 24–26 are the first part of the sequence. Measure 27 contains a vi°7/V (V designating a dominant pedal) that connects this sequence to its repeat in measures 28–30. The chords are the same, but they are revoiced, and the pedal/bass part is now in eighth notes. Due to the chromaticism, it is virtually impossible to label measures 28–30 with our current Roman numeral system—at least in a sensible way. This is a common issue when analyzing Vierne’s organ works. 

However, measures 31–36 present a strange problem. Our relatively standard analysis quickly falls apart as the sonorities encountered do not coincide with B-flat minor at all. This is the first introduction of a mode of limited transposition: mode 3, transposition 3 (M3, T3). Vierne uses this mode seamlessly due to the common tones found between the B-flat minor scale and the preceding sequential measures. (Be cognizant of enharmonic equivalence when studying Examples 1a and 1b.)

When comparing the M3, T3 scale to the measures in question (reduced to the outer voices), one encounters some non-scale tones. The B-natural in the upper voice in measures 31–32 can be argued as a continuation of the downward chromatic sequence. The D-sharp in the bass is a passing tone. Lastly, the G-naturals in the upper voice and in the bass in measure 34 are also passing tones. This is evident when they are viewed as a connection to measures 35 and 36 where the key of B-flat minor (and Roman numeral analysis) continues. Consult the chart below for the analysis. Note that measures 36–38 contain another sequence.

Measure 35, B-flat minor v6, V6

36 i(9), IV7

37 VII7, III7

38 VI7, bII7

39 V

40–41 i

In measures 42–49, the key of D minor emerges, reached via a fully diminished vii chord achieved by common tone with B-flat minor (D-flat/C-sharp enharmonic equivalent).10 The recurring A dominant pedal point keeps the listener locked onto the new key until reaching a segue to the new B theme.

Measures 42–43, D minor vii°7/V

44–45 i

46 i7, viØ7

47 i

48 IV7, i7

49 viØ7

The segue to the B theme is in measures 50–55. The notes are derived from mode 2, transposition 2. Below is a replication of the segue and the M2, T2 scale for comparison. The non-scale tone of C in measure 50 (the seventh note in Examples 2a and 2b) is a passing tone.11

This meandering material forms an ostinato that accompanies the new, B theme in C-sharp Phrygian. It is first encountered in the bass in measure 60.12 

The B theme is first introduced in the pedal in measures 60–76. The theme is seventeen measures long and in two parts. The first spans eight measures and is clearly in C-sharp Phrygian. The second portion is more chromatic. Both the C-sharp Phrygian scale and theme are demonstrated in Examples 3a and 3b

While the first eight measures are clear to understand regarding the Phrygian mode, the second, chromatic portion is rather perplexing. However, the accompaniment that begins in measure 68 (where the second portion of the B theme starts) is another descending chromatic sequence. Thus, Vierne is able to blend the C-sharp Phrygian mode with these chromatic, non-scale tones seamlessly.

In measure 76, the B theme moves to the soprano. It is an exact repeat of its first statement. However, this time the accompaniment contains non-C-sharp Phrygian tones from mode 3, transposition 2—this mode and transposition will take over in measure 92. Pay close attention to another descending chromatic sequence beginning in measure 84. 

The B theme undergoes a miniature development in measures 92–115. A fragmented version of the B theme returns to the bass (still in C-sharp Phrygian) while juxtaposed with new rhythmic patterns in the accompaniment from M3, T2. The constant resurgences of a D-natural in the accompaniment are from the C-sharp Phrygian mode (Examples 4a and 4b). 

By measure 100, the remaining portion of the B theme is in M3, T2. Ultimately, in measure 104, the theme devolves to a pedal point on F—the dominant of B-flat minor. Measures 104–115 serve as a decoration of the vii°7 chord from B-flat minor (respelled for ease of reading: A-flat, B, D, F). The diminished chords are linked by chromatic scales that rise in pitch and create tension and anticipation before reaching the recapitulation in measure 116 (Example 5). 

The recapitulation is not an identical repeat; much of the material is reharmonized, thus the A′ designation. The recapitulation spans from measure 116 to measure 147. Measures 116–128 are charted below.

Measures 116–117, B-flat minor i

118 i, ii°

119 i

120 VI

121 iv

122 ii°7

123 V

124 ii°7

125 III

126 ii°7

127 III

128 ii°7

Measure 129 is rather unusual. If one follows the original A theme, this is the point where the key of D minor is reached via a fully diminished seventh chord (vii°7). The pitches in measure 129 indicate a seventh chord, but the addition of a G-sharp prevents the sonority from being fully realized.13 The new C-sharp minor seventh chord adds richness and color and seems to foreshadow what is yet to come—a sudden arrival of the B theme (in the bass) in measure 132, this time in mode 1, transposition 2 (Examples 6a and 6b). 

The accompaniment contains whole-tone scales from T2 and is connected via a viiØ7 chord from B-flat minor in measures 136–137. Note the presence of another descending chromatic sequence in measures 140–147. While this sequence is a bit different in presentation (especially with the meandering repetitions in measures 145–147), the effect is the same for harmonizing the chromatic second portion of the B theme (Example 7).

The coda begins in measure 148. The initial auditory response at the arrival of this measure is one of “sensory overload” as Vierne employs Mode 2, T2 over an F-sharp pedal point.14 Vierne will alternate transposition 2 and transposition 3 from mode 2 until the downbeat of measure 156, where he will retain transposition 2 and switch to an F pedal point. The ensuing scales contain passing tones not found in mode 2, transposition 2—they are approached and left by step.15 Below is a chart analyzing measures 148–159 by mode and transposition.

Measure 148, Mode 2 T2

149 T3, T2

150–151 T3

152 T2, T3 (last 2 16ths)

153 T2, T3 (last 2 16ths)

154–159 T2

The F pedal point in measure 156 serves as an anchor to the dominant of B-flat minor, which re-emerges in measure 160. Vierne uses the augmented III chord and dominant-seventh chord above the opening seven-note group heard in the beginning of the “Toccata,” thus creating a relentless, closing section of the coda. Measures 160–179 are charted below.

Measure 160, B-flat minor III+, V7

161 i

162 III+, V7

163 i

164–168, descending chromatic 

  chords

169–179, B-flat minor

The Toccata’s final page contains a descending chordal passage from measures 164–168. The bass gains momentum and rises chromatically in a rapid succession of sixteenth notes. One encounters a return of the opening seven-note group heard at the beginning of the “Toccata” in measure 169. Finally, the constant arpeggiation of the tonic chord (eight measures!) brings the piece to an abrupt close (the last piece of material the listener encounters before the close is the seven-note group heard in the bass). Because of the absence of a normal ritardando—Vierne specifically indicates senza ritardando—this piece often leaves the listener with a sense of bewilderment and uneasiness. 

Not to create a whimsical comparison, but the feeling of bewilderment is also common when attempting an analysis of Vierne’s music! Analyzing music is no easy task, and Vierne’s music is no exception. “Toccata” reveals many peculiar situations that require a different way of analytical thinking. These situations involve various uses of sequential material, Gregorian modes, and the modes of limited transposition. Vierne seamlessly combines all of these elements, resulting in a mesh of chromaticism and thematic material. It is this combination that gives his music its signature sound and character. Understanding the various elements of Vierne’s unique harmonic language is paramount in unlocking the mysteries behind the sound of his music. Hopefully, the information presented in this article will aid in the discovery of new analytical techniques for enthusiasts and disciples of Vierne’s oeuvre.

Notes

1. Rollin Smith, Louis Vierne: Organist of Notre-Dame Cathedral (New York: Pendragon Press, 1999), 416.

2. Ibid.

3. During Vierne’s American concert tour in 1927, Princeton University’s chapel and Skinner Organ Company organ were not yet completed. Completion came the following year. See: https://chapel.princeton.edu/chapel/history and https://chapel.princeton.edu/chapel/chapel/mander-skinner-organ. If Vierne had come to Princeton, he would have played the four-manual Aeolian organ installed in 1916 in Procter Hall. That organ no longer exists. See: https://www.princeton.edu/~gradcol/album/picsphall.htm.

4. Louis Vierne, Pièces de Fantaisie in quatre suites, Livre II, op. 53, ed. Helga Schauerte-Maubouet (Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag, 2008), XXII.

5. See Smith, 346–349, for the 1868 Notre-Dame stoplist and console layout.

6. Vierne was very attracted to the ease of use and versatility of American organ consoles. The availability of Unison Off and sub- and super-couplers in the manual divisions was of particular interest to him, so much so that he desired an American-style console for Notre-Dame. He began designing one on his return to France after his American tour concluded in 1927. Rollin Smith devoted an entire chapter in his book on this matter. See endnote 1: “Vierne on Organ Design,” Smith, 356–365.

7. Vierne constantly reflects on his struggles with structured theory practices in his memoirs (Souvenirs). This was particularly evident during his formative years at the Institution Nationale de Jeunes Aveugles. His beginning studies in harmony with Julien Héry were particularly problematic: “He helped us with a host of practical suggestions . . . . But on the artistic side he was rather limited, for he went strictly by the rules. After three years of this instruction we wrote correctly . . . but without the flexibility and freedom that make harmony an art. Later I had to work extremely hard to acquire a ‘pen’ in the modern sense of the word, and especially to enable me to teach in a really musical way.” Smith, 21.

8. The best approach to reading this article (and the subsequent study of the “Toccata”) is to have a recently published (or corrected) score available for consultation. The musical charts and examples in this article can be compared to the score for clarification.

9. Be aware that the opening seven-note group is an important identification mark throughout the composition:

10. The D melodic minor scale is used for this part of the analysis. Note the B-naturals and C-sharps throughout measures 42–49.

11. One views a key signature change at the halfway point of the segue—yes, this key signature has the same accidentals found in C-sharp Phrygian. However, one should be prudent when analyzing Vierne’s music. Just because a key signature is relatable does not guarantee that the composition in question is in the implied mode or key. (Obviously, this section is not in F-sharp minor or A major.) One should analyze carefully to justify their findings.

12. During the statement of the B theme, one encounters a non-scale tone in the ostinato in measures 58–59, 62–63, and 66–67—the F-sharp in the lower voice may cause a bit of confusion. However, one should note that F-sharp is present in the C-sharp Phrygian mode, thus allowing it to occur rather seamlessly.

13. D minor is reached in measure 132, but in name only as the forthcoming sonorities are not relatable.

14. Not only does Vierne’s use of mode 2 contribute to the unsettling arrival of measure 148, but the registration (full organ) also adds to the passage’s brutality.

15. Vierne switches between transposition levels of mode 2 by chromatic movement, which the listener has experienced many times in this toccata via the use of sequences. At this point, there is nothing that seems terribly out of place by these constant chromatic maneuvers.

Related Content

An Exercise in Modal Interplay: Louis Vierne’s Carillon de Westminster

Jonathan Bezdegian

Jonathan Bezdegian earned his Doctor of Musical Arts degree in organ performance from University of Washington, Seattle, in 2018. He is a lecturer in music and director of the organ scholar program at Assumption University, Worcester, Massachusetts. He also serves as director of liturgical music at Christ the King Parish in Worcester, Massachusetts, and is dean of the Worsceter Chapter of the American Guild of Organists.

Example 1a (used with kind permission of Bärenreiter-Verlag, Kassel)

Louis Vierne’s “Carillon de Westminster” from the Troisième Suite, opus 54, of his 24 Pièces de Fantaisie is a favorite of organists and audiences alike. While many play this piece, how many take the time to study the unique harmonies in this music? Organists view Vierne’s compositional style as highly chromatic. Yes, this is certainly true. However, how does one analyze Vierne’s music? There are very few studies providing a detailed harmonic analysis of this nature.1 Thus, the aim of this article is to foster interest in the analysis of Vierne’s organ music via the “Carillon de Westminster,” one of his most appreciated compositions. Before moving forward with analysis, learning the history and early reception of this piece is important. 

A seemingly obvious reason for the great popularity of this piece is due to the familiar “Big Ben” or “Grandfather Clock” theme.2 Interestingly, according to the research of Rollin Smith, a scholar of Vierne’s life and works, Vierne encountered this theme for the first time via a clock in the office of a clock shop owner in Le Locle, Switzerland, in 1916, and then, later, while on tour in England in 1924.3 These thematic encounters reached compositional fruition in the summer of 1927 in Luchon, France. 

The initial reception of the “Carillon de Westminster” was positive. Soon after publication, Vierne publicly performed this piece three times, the first as a sortie at the closing of the Forty Hours Devotion at the Cathedral of Notre-Dame, Paris, on November 29, 1927. “Vierne’s student, Henri Doyen recalled that it was ‘one of the rare times when I saw the clergy and faithful not sortie . . . [they] waited quietly until the end, and a number of people improvised a little ovation for the maître when he came down from the tribune.’”4

On December 8, 1927, Vierne performed this work in concert for the dedication of “the restored organ in the Parisian church of Saint-Nicolaus-du-Chardonnet.”5 The reaction of those in attendance was favorable: “The work, which unmistakably bears the master’s signature, will undoubtedly become known to the whole musical world, just like the name of the composer . . . . The famous carillon joins together with a rhythmic figure that captivates the listener with its adamant periodical recurrence.”6

Lastly, Vierne played the “Carillon de Westminster” in concert on May 3, 1928, at the Trocadéro Palace. Remarks were supportive, stating that the “Carillon de Westminster is certainly destined to enjoy great popularity among all organists.”7 Even after these initial performances, Vierne “played it constantly, including in 1932 for the inauguration of the restored Notre-Dame organ.”8 Clearly, this piece had a warm welcome,9 and these recounts foreshadowed current feelings, particularly the remarks after the Trocadéro concert. Now that the history is established, the harmonic analysis becomes the next area of focus. 

While Vierne’s harmonic language was developing by the genesis of “Carillon de Westminster” in the summer of 1927, the tonalities created are approachable. There is extensive use of the Gregorian modes: Ionian starting on D and B-flat; Aeolian starting on D and B; and Mixolydian starting on B-flat, D, F-sharp, and G. Then, the addition of the codified modes of limited transposition: Mode 3 (T1 and T3) and Mode 1 (T1) that gives this piece (and many other works) Vierne’s signature sound.10 While the Gregorian modes offer listeners a familiar set of harmonies throughout the “Carillon de Westminster,” the harmonies encountered are not functional in the traditional sense. Thus, using a traditional, analytic approach will not yield a positive result.

Through research and analysis, one discovers that Vierne uses common tone modulations. It is the only practical procedure for finding similarities between each mode. There is evidence of tonic and dominant functions, but they are simple and mostly found at cadential points.11 After studying the various modes used in “Carillon de Westminster,” one finds several common tones between them, thus allowing relatively free movement from one mode to another. This is not an unusual circumstance given Vierne’s approach to conventional composition practices (Vierne wrote about his early experiences at the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles in his Mémoires): “After three years of instruction we wrote correctly, to be sure, but without the flexibility and freedom that make harmony an art. Later I had to work extremely hard to acquire a ‘pen’ in the modern sense of the word, and especially to enable me to teach in a really musical way.”12 These feelings continued during his studies with Franck, Widor, and Guilmant at the Paris Conservatoire. Fruition was attained when Vierne was given the opportunity to teach Guilmant’s organ class while he was away on tour in America in 1897. Vierne was elated: “I was a little uneasy about such a responsibility but, at the same time, delighted to be able to express unrestrained my own ideas on free improvisation. We would ‘whoop it up’ with modern harmonies.”13

Thus, one concludes that Vierne uses a free form of modal writing in the context of the 24 Pièces de Fantaisie. In “Carillon de Westminster” (and in many other works from this collection), Vierne uses the Gregorian modes as a foundation for his writing. The modes of limited transposition, while in their infancy,14 serve as harmonic enrichment and color to the various themes Vierne creates and develops throughout the composition. One encounters all of these attributes within the first pages of “Carillon de Westminster.”15

In “Carillon de Westminster,” the sonorities created are from the D Ionian mode. Initial analysis of the opening theme reveals that it is indeed D Ionian (Example 1a). It begins in the tenor in measure 3 and extends to the downbeat of measure 32.

The accompanying figuration in the treble gives an aural image of ringing bells. It begins as alternating fifths and fourths, also in D Ionian. This figuration changes to fifths and thirds on the downbeat of measure 6 (Example 1b).

In measure 11, there is a shift to M3, T1. This continues through measure 12, adding harmonic enrichment (Example 1c). This abrupt change actually occurs quite naturally due to the common tones of D, E, and F-sharp heard in the theme in measure 10.

Also, in measure 11, the theme comes to a temporary hold on D—a common tone of M3, T1, allowing the two modes (D Ionian and Mode 3, T1) to blend seamlessly (Example 2).

D Ionian returns in the upper voices in measure 13 and continues until measure 20, where M3, T1 repeats in a similar fashion to the opening pages. The A non-scale tone is from the dominant of D Ionian (Example 3a).

In measure 24, there is a move to a different transposition level of Mode 3: T3, made possible by the common tones of F-sharp and A found in measure 23 (Example 3b):

M3, T3 continues until measure 33, when an arpeggio in fourths forms a half-diminished vii chord from D Ionian (Example 3c). 

In measure 35, the theme moves to the soprano, and the accompaniment comprising fourths and fifths resumes in the left hand. The interplay of the theme and accompaniment is similar to the material found in the opening measures (Example 3d). 

However, things change in measure 44. The C-natural in the accompaniment and the pedal hints to M3, T1, which serves as enrichment to D Ionian (Example 3e). 

The merger of D Ionian and Mode 3, T1 is traced in both the pedal and accompaniment until the downbeat of measure 60. Here, the D Ionian mode returns with a tonic chord and pedal point. The soprano register is filled with tonic arpeggios spanning two measures, before leading to a transitional section in measure 62 (Example 4).

This transitional section comprises a six-note group that alternates between the left and right hands. The move from D Ionian to D Aeolian is made by the change of one note: F-natural in place of F-sharp (modal mixture) displayed in Example 5. 

This marks the arrival of the B section, where the previously heard six-note patterns are used simultaneously in contrary motion in the manuals, now in B-flat Ionian, the flat-VI of D Aeolian. This new section in B-flat Ionian includes the original theme in the pedal, transposed to the new tonic (Example 6).

Everything seems to move along normally until measure 70, when an augmented V chord suddenly disrupts the melismatic passage, shown in Example 7. This augmented chord actually hints back to M3, T3. This is possible by the B-flat common tone heard in the soprano passage of measure 69 (Example 6).17 The thematic material continues in an identical fashion from measures 71 to 74.

In measures 75 and 76, an E-flat is added to the six-note pattern, replacing the D. This change is short lived—the D returns in measure 77. However, this time a I7 chord is reached in B-flat Ionian, instead of the augmented V, witnessed in measure 74. This is an important moment, as the primary theme (in the bass) has concluded, and the first portion of the B section draws to a close. The second part of the B section becomes rich in modal sonorities with the addition of pitches found in the Mixolydian mode, Mode 3, and Mode 1 (Example 8).

In measure 79, the six-note pattern remains, but begins a harmonic transformation with the addition of a flat-seven scale degree from B-flat Ionian (Example 8). This addition pulls the ear towards an implied F minor sonority—the minor dominant of B-flat Ionian. At this point, the listener is accustomed to hearing B-flat Ionian. Thus, it is shocking when the music suddenly shifts to B-flat Mixolydian in measure 82 (Example 8).

In measures 87 to 90, Vierne uses Mode 1, T1. This is possible by the addition of G-flat and E-natural to the six-note pattern. One gathers that Vierne used the common tones of M3, T1: C, B-flat, and A-flat (encountered previously in measure 85) in order to implement this change, which creates a harmonic “lean” to Mode 1. The second half of the B section draws to a close with the return of an implied ii7 chord from B-flat Ionian on measure 91, thus leading back to the tonic of B-flat Ionian on measure 93 and concluding in full on measure 94 (Example 9).

After the cascading downward scales in measure 95, a new theme arrives in measure 96, this time in M3, T3, found in the tenor (reached via the common tone of B-flat). This new 13-note theme soon changes from M3, T3 to B Aeolian in measure 103, reached via the F-sharp common tone in measure 99. The driving accompaniment figuration propels this theme forward and will gradually gain intensity. In measure 104, the theme moves from the tenor register to the alto, now recomposed in D Mixolydian via the same F-sharp common tone. The B theme is accompanied by M3, T1 in the left hand. In measure 106, the theme moves to the soprano and changes to F-sharp Mixolydian (via the F-sharp common tone) in measure 110 (Example 10).

This modal interplay creates a sense of anticipation as the theme rises in pitch, register, and dynamic level. In measure 104, the various restatements of the B theme are no longer separated by long notes. Instead, the theme becomes a continuous rising line, which gives way to a bridge in measure 114, gradually leading to the recapitulation of the primary theme. 

The bridge consists of arpeggios and scales from the G and B-flat Mixolydian modes. The primary sources of this modal shift are the common tones of D, E, and B in measure 113. In measure 114, the two inner notes of the chord in the left hand, D and F, serve as a “common tone anchor,” allowing a rocking movement from G to B-flat Mixolydian and back again. The two Mixolydian scales link together seamlessly. The interplay concludes via a final upward rising B-flat Mixolydian scale in measure 119, reaching the tonic of D Ionian by step and by chromatic descent in the pedal (Example 11). 

This active form of writing, combined with the increasing dynamic levels, results in perhaps the most powerful, seamless, and natural recapitulations in the entire set of 24 Pièces de Fantaisie. In the recapitulation, the primary theme is heard in the soprano, accompanied by a supportive pedal and repeated arpeggios in the inner voices. M3, T1 also emerges in measure 124 in the inner voices, adding support and color to the theme. Measure 126 contains a series of alternating tonic and dominant substitute chords over the B theme from measure 96 in the bass, now transposed to D Ionian (Example 12a). 

The thematic material repeats after this four-measure chordal alternation on measure 130. Again, M3, T1 returns with the chromatic descent of the bass line starting in measure 137. The D Ionian alternating chords return in measure 141, this time being interrupted by a stark arrival of a rapid flourish of thirds, fourths, and sixths in the soprano, accompanied by a chromatic, rising bass line in octaves. This flourish is clearly in M3, T1, and the left hand uses the anchor points of D and F-sharp. These anchor notes allow two measures of chromatic rising followed by two measures of chromatic falling before the returning alternating chords resume in measure 149—this time with the “bell-like” interjections used in the soprano heard in the opening measures (Example 12b).

The chromatic ascending and descending patterns from M3, T1 return in measure 153, but end abruptly as the music halts on an extremely dissonant chord formed from M3, T3 in measure 157. The F-sharp heard continuously throughout is locked in place in the soprano (a common tone), allowing the full use of chords from this mode. The chord in measure 159 seems to function as a form of altered dominant, but it is remarkably unstable due to the chromatically altered G in the bass, which is not found in M3, T3 (but is found in D Ionian). It is not easy to identify this chord using functional harmony due to the added notes. Perhaps one could argue that it is, indeed, a iv7 chord (from D Ionian) with an added ninth (the C-natural could be viewed as a displaced, chromatic tone from measure 158, which moves to D in measure 160). Either way, this chord leads back to the tonic (D Ionian) with the B theme in the bass, now in double time (Example 13a). This massive sonority brings “Carillon de Westminster” to a grand conclusion with three, long “hammer stroke” chords shown in Example 13b.

The conclusion of “Carillon de Westminster” (both aurally and analytically) leaves little doubt that Vierne possessed a creative, free-form approach to theoretical practices. The statements from Rollin Smith’s book document the success of this piece soon after its genesis, and the success continues today. With an understanding of some of the basic principles of common tone modulations, one can discern the construction of the Gregorian modes and the modes of limited transposition vital to decoding Vierne’s harmonic language. It is an important study that performers and scholars of Vierne’s music should consider. Not only does the study of music theory assist in the formation of a comprehension of the art of musical composition, it also enhances an appreciation of Vierne’s life and musical thought process. 

 

Notes

1. So far, there are only two recent publications on the harmonic analysis of Vierne’s music, particularly, the 24 Pièces de Fantaisie. One is part of a dissertation by Woosung Kang: “Louis Vierne’s Pièces De Fantaisie Pour Grand Orgue: Its Significance in The History of Organ Music,” DMA diss., Indiana University: Bloomington, Indiana, 2017. Retrieved from: https://scholarworks.iu.edu/dspace/bitstream/handle/2022/21344/Kang%2C%20Woosug%20%28DM%20Organ%29.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y. Here, Kang briefly discusses the octatonic scale (Mode 2) used for Vierne’s “Clair de Lune:” “Vierne begins the melody . . . with [an] octatonic scale combined with chromaticism throughout,” 22. The other is the author’s dissertation: Jonathan Bezdegian, “Louis Vierne and the Evolution of His Modal Consciousness” (Ann Arbor, Michigan: ProQuest LLC, 2018).

2. The actual genesis of this theme is allegedly from “William Crotch’s variations on the fifth and sixth measures of Handel’s ‘I know that my Redeemer Liveth,’ from Messiah, and was played by the chimes of the new Cambridge University clock in Great Saint Mary’s Church. It was played by a mechanism installed 1793–1794 and thus known as Cambridge Quarters.” In 1859–1860 the actual theme was copied (for the second time) for a clock tower at the end of the House of Parliament for a new and larger set of carillon bells. The “Big Ben” nickname was actually the name of the 13.5-ton bell, which was used to strike the hour. There are four smaller bells that chime the actual theme known as the “Westminster Quarters.” We can also note that this particular theme was adapted to clocks in 1886. This was actually the first time tubular chimes were introduced into clocks, and since this revelation, this theme has become a staple in clock manufacturing worldwide. Rollin Smith, Louis Vierne: Organist of Notre-Dame Cathedral (New York: Pendragon Press, 1999), 555–557.

3. Ibid., 557–559. 

4. Ibid., 559.

5. Vierne, Louis. Pièces de Fantaisie en quartre suites, Livre IV, op. 55, edited by Helga Schauerte-Maubouet (Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag, 2008), XXIII.

6. Ibid.

7. Ibid., XXIV. 

8. Smith, Louis Vierne, 559.

9. Marcel Dupré, on the other hand, hated this composition (and was not fond of Vierne, either, due to irreconcilable differences). “There was an unspoken rule that students were not to bring Vierne’s music to [Dupré] for study.” If anyone was brave enough to, they were met with harshness. A student actually played the “Carillon” for Dupré at a lesson, the result was unpleasant: “he played the Carillon de Westminster of Vierne . . . When he finished, Dupré said only one word . . . , ‘Rubbish!’” Ibid., 343. 

10. See the Scale Chart for complete spellings.

11. This discovery is also relatable to the music of Olivier Messiaen. Robert Sherlaw Johnson mentions this in his book, Messiaen: “for most of the time constructional harmonic relationships play no part in Messiaen’s music, except at certain points in some works where simple dominant-tonic or subdominant-tonic relationships become evident.” Robert Sherlaw Johnson, Messiaen (Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1975), 13.

12. Smith, Louis Vierne, 21.

13. Ibid., 125. 

14. The modes of limited transposition have a long history. We do not know where they all originated. However, we know that Olivier Messiaen is credited for codifying them. The first publication of the seven modes was in his La Nativité du Seigneur in 1936—one year prior to Vierne’s death in 1937. Also, in relation to the modes of limited transposition, music theorists currently use “T0” to indicate the first level of transposition (starting on C). However, Messiaen used “T1” or “first transposition” in his descriptions in La Nativité du Seigneur. So, to be consistent, I have retained Messiaen’s system. Thus, T1 indicates the first level. See Olivier Messiaen, La Nativité du Seigneur (Paris: Alphonse Leduc, 1936), “Note by the Composer.”

15. There were several accounts of this theme being written incorrectly by Vierne. The theme itself is quite long, since it comprises four quarters (one phrase for each quarter of the hour): one 2-bar phrase for the first 15 minutes of the hour, a second phrase of four measures for the 30-minute mark, a third phrase of six measures for 45 minutes, and the final phrase for the hour, comprising eight measures. It is the second quarter (copied in measure 2 of Example 1a) that was notated incorrectly by Vierne; why this occurred is not entirely known. However, due to Vierne’s musical ingenuity, it is not unwise to attribute this change to Vierne having “taken artistic license and altered the second quarter to suit his own purpose.” Smith, Louis Vierne, 559. 

16. All score excerpts are used with kind permission of Bärenreiter-Verlag, Kassel.

17. Notice that the notes of the augmented V chord are F, A, and C-sharp—all of these notes are common with M3, T3. Thus, the relationship between B-flat Ionian and M3, T3 is clear.

Photo caption: Example 1a (used with kind permission of Bärenreiter-Verlag, Kassel)

Louis Vierne’s Mature, Modal Approach: Sixth Symphony Scherzo

Jonathan Bezdegian

Jonathan Bezdegian, DMA, is the instructor of organ and campus minister for liturgical music and mission trips at Assumption University, in Worcester, Massachusetts.

Louis Vierne

Sitting on the parapet of the story where the towers arise from the massive corpus are all kinds of devilish things that were contrived by a grandiose imagination and captured in the grinning stone by a forceful and strict hand. Wondrous animals with long beaks, pointy claws, with misshapen ears and distorted mouths, devils with devout wings, midgets with long beards sit there and gape at the city with large, vicious, lurking eyes.1

While the history of Louis Vierne’s Sixième Symphonie (Sixth Symphony), opus 59, is well documented, the actual harmonic construction of the thematic material leaves interested performers in a bit of a predicament. Traditional and functional harmonic analysis is not the correct method for deciphering this music. Occasionally, one will find evidence in Vierne’s music that successfully allows this method. However, modal material will always be present. Thus, the use of the Modes of Limited Transposition becomes important. To date, no sources directly address this approach.2 The intent of this article is to apply the Modes of Limited Transposition and to prove their importance in the study of Louis Vierne’s organ works, focusing on the “Scherzo” from his Sixth Symphony.

Intriguingly during the time between the 24 Pièces de Fantaisie and the Sixth Symphony (1927–1930), Olivier Messiaen published Le Banquet céleste (1928) and Diptyque (1930). Both of these pieces use the Modes of Limited Transposition. Michael Murray makes reference to this in his book, French Masters of the Organ:

Though he was not yet twenty when he wrote Le Banquet céleste, he had already turned from prescribed harmony to the Modes of Limited Transposition that were to be a main feature of his early work, and it is these, or, more precisely, his uses of one of these, that create a distinctive harmonic movement dominant and tonic only by analogy.3

Based on the principle of modal evolution, the chronology of these works does not appear to be merely “coincidental.” However, the actual genesis of the Modes of Limited Transposition still remains a mystery.

It is impossible to tell if Vierne is responsible for the genesis of this modal material (later codified as the Modes of Limited Transposition by Messiaen). There is no known documentary evidence that allows this assertion. Messiaen also denied creating all of them.4 It is also unlikely that Vierne and Dupré collaborated on the use of these modes via improvisation practices.5 However, the evolution in composition regarding the use of these modern harmonies is evident. From evidence germane to this research, this evolution stems from the Paris Conservatoire.

Vierne remarked in his Mémoires about his excitement upon learning new, looser, and modern improvisational techniques from Adolphe Marty at the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles in 1889. Later, Vierne drew on this inspiration while studying with his fellow pupils at the Paris Conservatoire. They all desired to be original. Charles Tournemire, in particular, was a prime example.6

The development of Vierne’s own original voice in regard to improvisation reached its initial height in 1897, when he took over Guilmant’s studio at the Conservatoire (he was leaving to go on a concert tour to the United States). Vierne’s enthusiasm was palpable: “I was . . . delighted to be able to express unrestrained my own ideas on free improvisation. We would ‘whoop it up’ with modern harmonies.”7

Through Vierne’s studies, collaborations, and improvisations, he would gradually incorporate all of his findings in his own music compositions. His modal usage began gradually. It is found extensively in his 24 Pièces de Fantaisie (1926–1927). However, at the time, for Vierne, this method was in its infancy. As his music progressed, more consistency in his dense modal writing is observed—at least thematically.

A close analysis of Vierne’s “Scherzo” from the Sixth Symphony, composed in 1930, exemplifies that his modal awareness has evolved. Thus, the modal usage becomes more logical in his writing. This is evident in the opening measures of “Scherzo.” There are no passing tones or chromatic alterations in the opening material. Modes 3 and 7 dominate the composition. (See Example 1. Mode 3 uses two transposition levels: 2 and 4. Mode 7 uses transposition 1, 2, and 5).8 Their common tone relationships are displayed in the examples of the main theme. However, for this opening material, the common tone of G is found in all transposition levels used by Vierne, thus allowing the free movement between each level on the opening measures (Example 1a).

Analytical chart of the opening page (measures 1–10):

Measure 1: M3, T4 (eighth-note opening flourish); sixteenth-note group: M3, T2

Measure 2: first sixteenth note: M3, T2; second group: M7, T1.

Measure 3: flourish: M3, T4; sixteenth notes: T2

Measure 4: sixteenth notes: M3, T2; 2nd group: M7, T1

Measure 5: flourish: M3, T4; sixteenth notes: M7, T2

Measure 6: flourish: M3, T2; sixteenth notes: M7, T1

Measure 7: first group of six notes: M3, T1; group of 4: M3, T2

Measure 8: first group of six: M3, T4; group of 4: M3, T2

Measure 9: flourish: M3, T4; sixteenth notes: M7, T2

Measure 10: first sixteenth notes: M7, T5; second group: M7, T2

While this article is not intended to provide an exhaustive analysis accounting for every note in each measure of the eighteen pages of “Scherzo”, a detailed analysis of page one illustrates a clear lack of functional harmony. One does not sense, aurally or visually, any traditional voice leading or harmonic progression. Thus, claiming that “Scherzo” is written “in the key of G minor” is erroneous. The material is modal, and knowledge of the Modes of Limited Transposition is paramount for understanding this music.

The most important analysis of “Scherzo” pertains to the main, cyclical theme (meaning, it is present in all five movements of the symphony).9 It comprises two parts—the first is six measures in duration; the second is ten measures.10 Here is the layout:

First statement

Part 1, measures 41–46: Mode 3, T1. See Examples 2 and 2a.

Part 2, measures 47–56: Mode 7, T2 (passing tone B in measure 55). See Example 3. (Mode 7, T2 is written in Example 1.)

Common tones (measure 46): E, D, C (allowing for modal shift).

Second statement (common tones G, D from previous measure)

Part 1, measures 57–62: Mode 3, T1, measures 41–46.

Part 2, measures 63–72: Mode 7, T2 (passing tone B in measure 71), measures 47–56. Common tones, E, D, C (from measure 62, allowing for modal shift).11

Third statement

Part 1, measures 113–118: Mode 3, T4. See Example 4 (M3, T4 is written in Example 1).

Part 2, measures 119–128: Mode 7, T1 (passing tone B-flat in measure 127).

Common tones (measure 118): E-flat, D-flat, C-flat. See Example 5.

Fourth statement (common tones: C, G-flat, D-flat, D from previous measure).

Part 1, measures 129–134: Mode 3, T2. See Example 6.

Part 2, measures 135–144: Mode 7, T6 (passing tone C-sharp in measure 143).

Common tones (measure 134): F-sharp, E, D. See Examples 7a and 7b.

Fifth statement

Part 1, measures 153–158: Mode 3, T4.12 See Example 8.

Part 2, measures 159–168: Mode 7, T3 (passing tone F-sharp in measure 167).

Common tones (measure 158): B, A, G. See Example 9.

Sixth statement (common tones: C-sharp, A, B-flat from previous measure)

Theme is inverted with a different accompaniment pattern; theme becomes segmented into three parts:

Part 1, measures 169–174: Mode 3, T4 (six measures). See Example 10a.

Part 2, measures 175–180: Mode 7, T5 (six measures).

Common tones (measure 174): A, B, C-sharp. See Example 10b.

Part 3, measures 181–184: Mode 7, T3 (passing tone C in measure 183) (four measures).

Common tones (measure 180): B-flat, C-sharp. See Example 10c.

Compared to Vierne’s earlier works in 24 Pièces de Fantaisie, “Scherzo” from Sixth Symphony is more modally consistent.13 The theme has virtually no chromatic alterations as seen in his previous compositions. Also, Sixth Symphony is Vierne’s last piece for solo organ. Rollin Smith states that “Vierne’s harmonic vocabulary by this time had become so intensely chromatic that one of the themes in each of the first two movements of this symphony utilizes all twelve notes of the chromatic scale.”14

We can conclude, then, that as the years progressed, these modal elements that were once used rather loosely took on a new structure and identity, one that piqued the interest of Olivier Messiaen. Through this interest, Messiaen wrote two compositions (between Vierne’s aforementioned pieces) and later codified these modal elements into the Modes of Limited Transposition. This codification was published in his La Nativité du Seigneur in 1936—one year prior to Vierne’s death.

Notes

1. Louis Vierne, Pièces de Fantaisie en quatre suites, Livre III, opus 53, ed. Helga Schauerte-Maubouet (Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag, 2008), XXII. A fitting quote to describe the imagery of “Scherzo.” This is further emphasized by Maurice Duruflé’s description of: “The Scherzo, although wishing to jest, neither succeeds in finding a true gaiety nor makes one forget the somber nightmares that haunt the Aria [Movement 2]. Instead, the composer, with sparkling verve, depicts the diabolical giggles of grimacing gargoyles.” Rollin Smith, Louis Vierne: Organist of Notre Dame Cathedral (New York: Pendragon Press, 1999), page 567.
2. The most recent document that analyzes Vierne’s Sixth Symphony is the dissertation of Emily Marie Meixner: Meixner, Emily Marie. n.d. “The Sixth Organ Symphony of Louis Vierne (1870–1937): An Analysis.” doi:10.7274/2227mp50s8q. It is a significant achievement and an interesting approach. Meixner does make reference to Vierne’s common use of the whole-tone scale (Mode 1 of the Modes of Limited Transposition) and the Gregorian modes (Phrygian and Mixolydian, respectively). My published articles in The Diapason and my dissertation, “Louis Vierne and the Evolution of His Modal Consciousness,” 2018, clearly outline my approach and methods. I will continue in this manner.

3. Michael Murray, French Masters of the Organ: Saint-Saëns, Franck, Widor, Vierne, Dupré, Messiaen (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998), page 186.

4. Also, “Messiaen says he became fluent in his modes by often improvising on them in Dupré’s class. But he takes no credit for contriving them all.” Ibid., page 188.

5. By 1924 Vierne and Dupré, once close friends, were bitter enemies. The crux of the dispute was over the title of “Organiste titulaire de Notre-Dame de Paris.” This misuse by Dupré during his first American concert tour (he was Vierne’s assistant, not the sole organist of the cathedral) drove a wedge between these two men. The animosity lasted until Vierne’s death. Dupré even forbade any of his students to play Vierne’s compositions during their organ lessons at the Conservatoire. Smith, Louis Vierne, pages 330–343.

6. At this time (1890), César Franck was Vierne’s first teacher at the Paris Conservatoire. Vierne and Tournemire were also classmates. Regarding Tournemire, Vierne remarked that he was “a born improvisor” and the entire studio was “captivated by the harmonies he had discovered for the free theme,” in reference to a studio competition in 1890, where Tournemire was awarded “first accessit.” Smith, Louis Vierne, page 47.

7. Ibid., 125.

8. Be mindful of enharmonic equivalence when comparing music passages to scales. Having your own corrected score for study while reading this article is advised.

9. Maurice Duruflé referenced this in his description of the Sixth Symphony for the Paris premiere at Notre-Dame Cathedral in 1935. The full description is found in Smith, Louis Vierne, page 567.

10. This division is more for clarity than for phrasing/musicality. The mode changes at the created divisions.

11. The second statement is identical to the first, it is just written in the treble octaves. There are some notational changes in comparison. However, they are just enharmonic.

12. In the original score (published by Henry Lemoine in 1931), there is an error in the pedal theme in measure 155. The first pedal note in Lemoine’s score is an “E” moving down to “D.” This does not fit the regular pattern of the theme in previous statements. Also, it does not fit the Mode 3, T4 scale. On hearing this, it is an obvious engraving error. While Rollin Smith’s list of “Textual Corrections for the Six Symphonies” (Smith, Louis Vierne, Appendix E, pages 719–734) does not mention this correction, it is clearly made in Bärenreiter’s new 2010 edition (BA 9226). The correct pattern of measure 155 is “B” moving up to “D.” This also highlights the importance of understanding the Modes of Limited Transposition for analysis of Vierne’s organ works.

13. A composition of note is “Feux Follets.” The writing Vierne uses can best be described as a modally dense quilt patchwork of the work’s main theme and figurations. It is so highly chromatic that even the Modes of Limited Transposition do not work well as a form of analysis; it is chromatic writing.

14. Smith, Louis Vierne, page 565.

Exploring the unknown of BWV 565 Part 2

Michael Gailit

Michael Gailit graduated from the University of Music and Performing Arts in Vienna with both performance and pedagogy diplomas in organ as well as in piano. Teaching piano at this institute since 1980, he has also conducted the organ studio at the Musik und Kunst Universität in Vienna since 1995. As church organist he served at St. Augustine’s Church, 1979–2008; in 2011 he was appointed organist at the Jesuit Church (Old University Church).

Both in his performance and teaching repertoire, Gailit includes all style areas on the base of their individual performance practices. He toured with solo recitals on both instruments in Europe as well as in North America and appeared with leading orchestras and renowned conductors. Recordings, masterclasses, invitations to juries, musicological publications, editing sheet music, compositions, arrangements, supporting the piano-organ duo repertoire, commissioned works, first performances, and finally occasional trips into the theatre and silent movie repertoire should be noted.

Particular attention was received in 1989 for the first performance of the complete piano and organ works of Julius Reubke, the performance of the complete organ works of Franz Schmidt the same year, as well as in September 2005 a series of six recitals with the trio sonatas of Johann Sebastian Bach, the organ sonatas of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, and the organ symphonies of Louis Vierne. Currently Gailit is working on a book The Enigma BWV 565, a study elucidating new answers and new questions.

Ringk manuscript of Bach BWV 565

Editor’s note: Part 1 of this series appeared in the June 2021 issue of The Diapason, pages 18–19.

The analysis of the first twelve measures revealed a compositional technique that can most aptly be described as metamorphosis. The list of the motives that appear in BWV 565, given in detail in the first part of this article, shows how one motive becomes the other (Example 15). In the last consequence, the mordent motive creates all others. This evolutionary style of composition appears on all levels. The mordent creates what we called a nucleus idea, which in turn creates the next two phrases. A part of the nucleus idea creates the ascending triplets, which in turn develop into the descending triplets. The closing section varies measures 1 and 2 and ends with the mordent motive.

From three to four

The second section, measures 12 through 30, continues this concept, only that the focus changes from three-note motives to four-note ones. In order to achieve a smooth transformation, the section starts with an upbeat to a trichord. The following tetrachords are rhythmically shifted in the same way, so that they appear as trichords with upbeats. The passage also prepares the fugue theme that shows a very similar structure of four consecutive tetrachords. Pitch notation of the opening phrase of the first part had assisted to discover the 3 x 3 form of the nucleus idea. Pitch notation of the current phrase now reveals a 4 x 4 structure (Examples 16 and 17). Both lines add another 4 x 4 notes as inserted repetitions of the dominant tone.

Simultaneous notation of the immanent two voices in measures 13 through 15 helps to understand the process. Edition Peters gives the original text of the earliest manuscript. Bärenreiter and Breitkopf & Härtel in their Urtext editions align measures 14 and 15 by substituting measure 14 with the octave transposition of measure 15. As we observe now, this contradicts the overall concept of continuous transformation. Measure 14 quotes the nucleus idea; measure 15 prepares the next section by changing the ending with the surprise of an eighth-note rest on beat one of measure 16 (Example 18).

In 1845–1846, the complete organ works by Johann Sebastian Bach appeared in print for the first time. This release by Edition Peters is considered a milestone, due in part to the editorial policy of Friedrich Conrad Griepenkerl (1782–1849), which abstained from any amendments. The eighth-note rest at the beginning of measure 16, however, obviously came as too great a surprise to the editor. He replaced it with a manual D31 without any reference to a manuscript source. In view of the preceding three-fold thundering D2 on the pedals, the eighth-note rest is only one of the many skillfully calculated effects in BWV 565.

The motivic substance of measures 16 through 20 consists of the tetrachord and the turn motive. Both textures, the figurations as well as the syncopated chords, follow a harmonic progression commonly known as the Phrygian cadence.2 This harmonic pattern is frequently inserted after a slow movement in order to prepare the listener for a finale. The transition from Adagio to Allegro in a voluntary by John Stanley (1712–1786)—with quite similar motives as BWV 565—demonstrates this function (Example 19).

The Phrygian cadence in BWV 565 comprises four chords consisting of four motives, two tetrachords and two turn motives (Example 20). The middle voice can count for two as the doubling of these notes in the thirty-second-note figurations suggests.

The syncopated chords appear four times, with a different pedal phrase each time (Example 21). The evolutionary concept of motive metamorphosis in BWV 565 requires abstention from the editorial practice of unification, in this case to replace phrase 2 by phrase 1. In measure 17, the bass and tenor notes are exchanged. The tenor varies the tetrachord E–D–C–B-flat in a new way by placing the first note at the end and an octave lower.

Whereas the Phrygian cadence aims to the last note in measures 16 through 18, its third and fourth appearances in measures 19 and 20 shifts the accented beat to the second note. This gives room for another chord on the last eighth-note beat in measure 20. On this beat, the new note of a G-sharp surprises; it gives the base for another diminished seventh chord. The G-sharp descends to the dissonance G-natural of the dominant seventh chord that spans over five more measures to be resolved only in measure 27.

Pitch notation shows that the run in measure 18 is a variation of measure 11, with some added notes (Example 22). It consists of a collection of the prime suspects—three tetrachords, a mordent, and a turn motive. Also, the arpeggio appears, this time following the tonic chord.

The passage ends in measure 19 with a scale comprising the complete tone material including the B-natural. This run is repeated in measure 21 without the passing notes (Example 23).

Four descending tetrachords run into a halt on the diminished seventh chord, before a prestissimo tremolo breaks loose. The toccata returns here to triplets and the mordent, whose intervals are stretched to thirds, with alternating upper and lower neighbor notes. The pedal surprisingly takes on a melodic role, worthy of the designation Recitativo. With the exception of the final cadence, the pedal lines up ten seconds, the last one repeating the first (Example 24).

Probably just a coincidence: we discover the first six notes of the pedal line in the Advent hymn, Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland (Example 25). More striking is that the pedal line cites the nucleus idea in the form of the second phrase in measure 1 (Example 26). The manual parts, note repetitions, and voice doubling omitted, consist only of seconds, which in turn are condensed tetrachords (Example 27).

The purpose

On the second page of Ringk’s manuscript, the last four staves are left blank. The fugue begins on a new third page. Ringk wrote, “Verte. Fuga.” (in Latin: Turn! Fugue.) below the final cadence on page 2. So before we turn the page and continue with the fugue, let us look at what has happened so far. BWV 565 is a work that undoubtedly attracts attention. So what was the purpose of the composition; why was it created? We need to leave the objective path of note-by-note analysis here. The meaning of a text cannot be grasped comparatively by counting the letters or discussing grammar and spelling.

Measures 16–17 and 19–20 were the first to open a new perspective. As mentioned earlier, we often find the harmonic pattern of the Phrygian cadence by default as a bridge between a slow movement and the following finale, as a musical announcement, and to increase the tension that a finale or something similar is to be expected. In measures 16 and 17, the Phrygian cadence is repeated four times, but it remains without consequence. After an extended run, the cadence is repeated again, a full three times, and it again remains without consequence. Is this a joke? A prank?

The impression is reinforced by the inverted echos of the section. It is in the nature of an echo that the return sounds weaker. However, in the Phrygian cadential measures in BWV 565, the reverse is true. The harmonic pattern is introduced with a thin texture of broken chords, only to be answered with heavy chords above a pedal line, plus hammering syncopations. Is this a provocation?

Flawless part-writing includes avoidance of parallel octaves and fifths. Let us imagine a student, required to submit a clean four-part piece, presenting the strict teacher something hitherto unheard like BWV 565. Seated at the organ console, the teacher begins to play. On the first page parallel octaves as far as one can see. The first note isolated, nailed with a mordent and a fermata, immediately followed by a rest. Short phrases, constantly interrupted with more rests. Laughter in the background, when the teacher has to take note that his organ is missing the bottom C-sharp. Broken chords are based on parallel fifths. In the pedal, there are only three roaring Ds, above them long-held quadruple dissonances. Then one finds a run pointing to a D, but silence instead. The inverted echoes startle. The Phrygian cadence remains without consequence, sounding seven times in vain.

There is no evidence whatsoever that BWV 565 was intended as a joke or prank, just as a joke does not have the caption, “This is a joke.” The nature of a text can be discerned from its content and setting alone. The amazing thing about this theory is, however, that it can answer all hitherto raised questions, among them:

• Only one copy of the autograph survived, some of the notation is only sketched: BWV 565 was intended only for private use and not for publication.

• All compositional features described as problematic: deliberate violations of the rules to show a new style.

• Bach named as author on the title page, the work possibly not by Bach: the most plausible explanation for this contradiction.

• The wrong key signature on the title page “ex . d . # .:” one cannot seriously claim that someone copied a multi-page piece in D minor and the same person mistakenly writes D major on the title page. Furthermore, Ringk notated minor keys adding a flat to the key letter, major keys adding a natural, not a sharp. The sharp could be a hint pointing to the unusual content, which is so-to-speak not natural, but sharp. In German, the word for sharp is Kreuz, which conveys the saying, ein Kreuz haben, having problems with something or someone.

• The simple composition style: simplified overdrawing as a device of parody.

• The low C-sharp in measure 2 being a rare key on organs of the time: deliberately pointing to the deficiency of a missing key.

• The late Peter Williams’s theory of a lost piece for violin: an allusion to J. S. Bach’s skills as a string player.

Following this theory, somewhere at an early stage someone took the piece as serious. The consequences are outrageous and at the same time incredibly humorous. It is singular that BWV 565 beats any other organ work in popularity. Then there are also all the discussions about the deliberately composed “misbehaving” features, if they can be credited to Bach or not. It is a work brilliant on several levels: as a provocation, fun, or a prank with a highly skillful compositional technique not common in Baroque music, but pointing to the future.

This theory may or may not be the case, but the journey into the unknown of BWV 565 is far from over. We now turn the second page of the manuscript and explore not only the fugue, but also lift the anchors on some findings that are considered certain. Stay tuned.

To be continued.

Notes

1. Note designations in scientific orthography: C2-C3-C4-C5-C6 (= traditionally C-c°-c′-c′′-c′′′).

2. The Phrygian church mode has the half-tone step between the first and second and the fifth and sixth scale degrees. Church modes, however, are melodic, not harmonic entities.

The modulating organist

Thomas L. Read

Thomas L. Read, composer and violinist, is Professor Emeritus at the University of Vermont. He holds degrees from the Oberlin, New England, and Peabody conservatories. As violinist he has been a member of the Erie Philharmonic, Baltimore Symphony, Boston Festival Arts, Vermont Symphony, and the Saratoga Festival of Baroque Music. During his more than forty years at the University of Vermont he taught music theory and composition, conducted orchestra concerts and musical theater productions, and led an innovative series of new music concerts and lectures (Symposium on Contemporary Music, held annually from 1968 until 1991).

His compositions project a consistent and distinctive personal style while embracing a variety of New Music idioms and techniques. Critics, while noting its lyrical qualities, have called his music “substantive and meticulously planned, with a wide expressive range leaving a feeling of rich satisfaction.” His Toccata and Five Preludes for organ were published recently by The American Composers Edition. C. F. Peters, Tunbridge Music, and Tuba Euphonium Press also publish his work. Listen to his music on Navona Records, ACA Recordings, Zimbel Records, VCME Records, Socialband.org, and on YouTube. A complete repertoire and recording catalogue is at thomaslread.com.

Example 1

The ability to move from one key to another smoothly and convincingly is one of the church organist’s highly valued skills. Facility in modulation is especially useful when leading the singing of hymns. Moving a particular verse to a higher key can allow the congregation to “catch its breath” as the modulation unfolds and may encourage more energetic singing at the onset of the next verse.1

A change of key can be made directly and dramatically as shown in Example 1, but an extended musical journey from one tonal region to another may charm, even inspire the listener. Herein we present a diverse collection of modulating phrases. As well, a technical review is offered for those who want to compose their own modulations applicable to specific hymns. Examples 1 through 10 accompany the review and are more intentionally didactic than the Additional Models, numbered 1 through 15 (see page 14). The latter collection includes modulations in both major and minor keys and in duple and triple meters. A few are applicable to hymns with modal and “Early American” qualities. Numbers 1, 13, 14, and 15 incorporate melodic elements of specific hymns. The models all move to a key that is a step above or below the initial key, reflecting typical demands of hymn accompaniment. In every case it is assumed that the initial key has been firmly established before the commencement of the modulation.

Here are some guidelines for composing modulations. Bear in mind, modulation by half-step in major mode (e.g., C to D-flat) is challenging as there are no chords common to both keys. Lacking common diatonic chords one must accept varying degrees of chromaticism. When modulating by whole step in minor mode (e.g., C minor to D minor) common chords are available only with harmonic and melodic minor scale forms.

• Unless the replication of a hymn’s melodic material is a foremost concern, it is helpful first to sketch out a fundamental progression, working upward from the bass voice. Examples 3, 3c, and the “first stage” of Example 4 demonstrate this approach. In Example 2 a basic counterpoint between bass and soprano is proposed. In Example 3c chromatic chords leading from C minor to D minor are linked together in accordance with what Anton Bruckner called “the law of the shortest way.” That is, to the extent possible the voices move by step. This voice leading principle promotes coherent, easily singable lines.

• When planning extended modulations it is worthwhile to dissolve or weaken the energy of the initial key before beginning to establish the new key. As shown in Examples 5c and 6a, this strategy can also strengthen the effect of shorter modulations. In Example 5c the mediant chord (on 3rd scale degree) of the new key (C) is tonicized before cadential motion in the new key is introduced. In Example 6a the diminished chord that embellishes the subdominant of the new key is chromatic in both keys. Example 4 includes three preliminary stages of composition that culminate in an extended modulation from D major to E-flat major. Despite the fact that the two keys are only a half-step apart, the harmonic and melodic sequential motion of the example’s final version, stage 4, produces a smooth, almost imperceptible dissolution of the initial key while sustaining a feeling of moving upward to the new key. In stage 1 the F-major chord prepares the dominant (V) chord of the new key. Stage 2 achieves a smoother progression from D to E-flat by introducing a C-major chord to function as dominant of the F chord, now spelled as a minor triad diatonic in E-flat. Further, the G-major chord, measure 2, serves as applied dominant of C and as the subdominant (IV) of D major.

Thus, the whole affair moves through a circle of fifths arriving forcefully in the new key: D–G–C–F–B-flat–E-flat. Stage 3, the result of much experimentation and revision, unfolds two contrapuntally and motivically cohesive voices. Notice that sequential repetition in measures 3 and 4 of the opening motive also prolongs the effect of the G-major chord: a harmonic plateau on IV of D; an unessential but interesting musical bonus. Inner voices were added in stage 4, attending to the law of the shortest way and to traditional precepts of chord voicing. In other words, double chord roots; with inverted chords double the “tonal” scale degrees—1, 4, 5. Do not double active tones, that is, leading tones and dissonant tones.

• To lessen the possibility of the cadence in the new key sounding instead like a half-cadence in a different key, it is helpful to precede the new dominant chord with its own (applied) dominant seventh or diminished seventh chord, as in Examples 5a, 5b, and 5c.

• A sense of arrival is strengthened when the goal cadence is decorated with 7–6 or 4–3 contrapuntal activity, as in Examples 6a and 6b.

• Applied (secondary) dominant and diminished-seventh chords are ready means for dissolving and establishing keys, as are such chromatic chords as the Neapolitan Sixth (flat-II6) and the various Augmented Sixth chords, as in Examples 7a through 7e. As demonstrated in Example 7b, using a German augmented-sixth chord is one of the quickest and simplest ways of moving to a key a half-step above in either major or minor keys. In Example 7c the second beat is a dominant-seventh chord in F-sharp minor. On the third beat of the bar the E-sharp is respelled as F to form the fifth above the root of a diminished-seventh chord of the dominant in F minor. And, nota bene, there are four different potential leading tones in any diminished-seventh chord, as in Example 8.

• The modulation shown in Example 9 is perhaps impractically extended. But it offers a study exploring the modulatory potential of common tone relations among keys. A short common tone modulation is shown in Example 10.

• As ever, traditional principles of voice leading provide a sound basis for imaginative harmonic invention. To the extent necessary, review and practice of venerable part writing techniques can promote flexibility and freedom when composing harmonic elaborations such those shown in Example 3b and Model 15 (see page 14).

Notes

1. Daniel Krymkowski, Professor of Sociology at the University of Vermont and organist at First Presbyterian Church in Barre, Vermont, suggested to me that a varied collection of modulations would be useful as models when performing interludes between hymn verses. I take this opportunity to thank Dan for his advice and encouragement, and for contributing one of his own modulations.

Exploring the unknown of BWV 565, Part 4

Michael Gailit

Michael Gailit graduated from the University of Music and Performing Arts in Vienna with both performance and pedagogy diplomas in organ as well as in piano. Teaching piano at this institute since 1980, he has also conducted the organ studio at the Musik und Kunst Universität in Vienna since 1995. As church organist he served at Saint Augustine’s Church, 1979–2008; in 2011 he was appointed organist at the Jesuit Church (Old University Church).

Both in his performance and teaching repertoire, Gailit includes all style areas on the basis of their individual performance practices. He toured with solo recitals on both instruments in Europe as well as in North America and appeared with leading orchestras and renowned conductors. Recordings, masterclasses, invitations to juries, musicological publications, editing sheet music, compositions, arrangements, supporting the piano-organ duo repertoire, commissioned works, first performances, and finally occasional trips into the theatre and silent movie repertoire should be noted.

Particular attention was received in 1989 for the first performance of the complete piano and organ works of Julius Reubke (1834–1858), the performance of the complete organ works of Franz Schmidt (1874–1939) the same year, as well as in September 2005 a series of six recitals with the trio sonatas of Johann Sebastian Bach, the organ sonatas of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, and the organ symphonies of Louis Vierne. Currently Gailit is working on a book, The Enigma BWV 565, a study elucidating new answers and new questions.

Johann Sebastian Bach

Editor’s note: Part 1 of this series appeared in the June 2021 issue of The Diapason, pages 18–19; part 2 appeared in the July 2021 issue, pages 12–14; part 3 appeared in the December 2021 issue, pages 16–18.

Part 4 completes the note-by-note investigation of Toccata con Fuga ex d, BWV 565, of Johann Sebastian Bach.1 After initial observations, the author set the goal of tracing and describing motivic processes throughout the piece, not foreseeing the dimensions of the project.

This survey ended in part 3 with the entry of the fugue theme in measures 70 through 72. Probably intended, both the midpoint of the fugue entry in these measures as well as the midpoint of all 143 measures converge on the same third beat of measure 71.

From beat 3 of measure 72, a bridge of four beats opens the longest interlude that occupies the next fourteen measures. With measure 72 in the restored version,2 the bridge is created almost entirely with the tetrachord.3 In the second half of measure 72, we observe applied motive splitting, in which the first four notes of the fugue theme appear as an independent motive. This mordent motive consists of the mordent as an upbeat to a target note on the downbeat. Showing a subtle gradual process, the first appearance shares the downbeat note F3 with the tetrachord group above, becoming then fully independent with all four notes in the second appearance (Example 47). The new motive will return in the closing recitativ part, assuming a significant role.

Suspense and action

Ten of the fourteen measures of the interlude contain repetitions of arpeggios in a persistent one-voice texture. Does this prove that the piece is inferior in quality as some critics have suggested? Indeed, no! The composer intended to set experimental textures in contrast to each other, instead of taking the well-beaten path of the learned polyphonic style. The interlude, together with the following theme entries, could hardly have been better designed to create suspense. In a movie scene, for example, the background music first becomes gradually quieter and simpler. It then lingers on one note at the end, until suddenly some unexpected action is in full swing. Like an experienced movie director, the composer of BWV 565 proved to be a master of suspense in this interlude. The figurations are placed in the somewhat weaker middle register, only to sink ever lower and become softer toward the end. The harmony oscillates between the tonic and dominant, finally retreating entirely to the tonic. The scene is devoid of any developed motives, as we sink further into the key of D minor.

A turn motive leads into measure 84 where the motivic substance with four descending tetrachords returns. These foreshadow the action in measure 85, where scales of two consecutive tetrachords rush upward twice (Example 48). Only the chromatic shift from F to F-sharp leading to G is needed to announce the theme in C minor, presented in the pedal. The alto voice prolongs the action with an immediate entry in the same key. Long trills enhance the thrill.

The interlude from the second half of measure 90 until the next theme entry in measure 93 is filled completely with tetrachords in all three voices. In Example 49, the motives are presented as eighth notes, omitting the inserted “step” notes to better display the structure. The top voice repeats the figuration from measure 54, except that the four-fold sequence now proceeds downward. In the first half of measure 92 two tetrachord variants switch the voices after only two notes.

In measure 94, several editors have added an A3 to the upper line on the last sixteenth-note beat. The C4, however, already serves as a passing note between B-flat3 and D4. Adding an A3 would result in parallel octaves with the bass. Furthermore, adding an F-sharp3 turns C4 into a dominant seventh requiring a resolution a step downward to B-flat3 (Example 50).

Measures 100 and 101 surprise us with a four-part texture for manuals only. The awkward voice leading requires a well-considered fingering, perhaps more than anywhere else in the piece. It may be that the composer never fully decided whether or not to assign the bass line to the pedal. At least the four quarter notes (which form a tetrachord variant) could conceivably be assigned to the pedal. The jump from the manual sixteenth-note group to the pedal quarter notes, however, is not entirely convincing (Example 51).

Before D minor returns with theme entries in all four voices, an extensive interlude develops the nucleus. Examples 52 and 53 show the many variants and how and where they appear. Motives related to the nucleus are colored red, tetrachords and its variants green, and the remote relatives blue. Gray boxes underline the mordents.

In the interlude section of measures 115 through 119, the trichord returns, alternately ascending and descending within the figurations (Example 54). Forming a climax in measures 120 and 121, trichords are sequentially combined with tetrachords, the latter taken from the fugue theme (Example 55).

In measure 122, the last entry of the fugue theme is ingeniously preceded twice by the complete nucleus (Example 56). The green notes mark the transitional section where the nucleus becomes the fugue theme. After all this intense motivic-thematic work, only two consecutive cadences in the penultimate measure 126 are required to conclude the fugue and to end with a deceptive cadence on a B-flat major chord.

The Recitativ

The final section in the Ringk manuscript starts on a new page and spreads over two pages. Unfortunately half of the heading has been cut off. With the use of the letters “e,” “c,” “i,” “t,” and “a” from the title page, the upper case “R” from a signature entry, and the lower case “v” from the designation Vivace, the heading may be reconstructed (see gray area). Suddenly Recitativ, rather than Recitativo emerges from the manuscript (Example 57).

The recitativ opens with passagework that is entirely based on tetrachords. The red notes in Example 58 reveal the presence of the mordent.

The “Adagissimo” in measure 130 stops on the third note of a tetrachord. Instead of progressing to F4, the expected F surprisingly jumps to the bass, interrupting the resolution of C-sharp to D. It creates an expressive four-fold dissonance with the diminished-seventh chord, a reminiscence of measure 2. A pedal solo recitative leads into a six-four chord in A minor, which in turn is transformed into a six chord in C major by the tetrachord of the first four notes of the nucleus. A performance suggestion to add a mordent on the A3 would serve as a helpful reminder to the performer (Example 59).

The run spanning measures 133 and 134 develops the mordent motive. In addition, all of the notes on the same beats form trichords and tetrachords (Examples 60 and 61).

In measure 136 we discover the retrograde form of the nucleus (Example 62), and in measures 138 and 139 the retrograde form of the B-A-C-H motive. Five descending tetrachords create the framework of the seven closing measures (Example 63).

Startling truths

The note-by-note analysis has revealed two startling truths:

• BWV 565 was composed throughout with a compositional technique called thematic work (thematische Arbeit).

• Measured against Baroque compositional practice, the composer of BWV 565 preferred experimental textures with contrasting character instead of the traditional techniques of Baroque counterpoint.

Therefore, we must conclude that:

• BWV 565 was in all probability not composed by Johann Sebastian Bach. The compositional technique of motivic-thematic work emerged after his death in German and Austrian countries during the second half of the eighteenth century. As a musical term, it was first defined in 1802 by Heinrich Christoph Koch, and Joseph Haydn (1732–1809) has long been considered the first composer to develop the technique.

• There is not a single piece in Bach’s huge œuvre that uses motivic-thematic work, especially to this extent. It is also highly unlikely that he wrote an experimental piece contrary to his musical beliefs, which also anticipates a compositional style first described decades later.

• Pejorative criticism is based on misunderstanding—BWV 565 is anything but youthful or immature. The opposite is true. It has been so skillfully composed that its true nature has remained overlooked for centuries.

• Although BWV 565 may resemble Baroque textures such as the stylus phantasticus, there is not a single example of stylus phantasticus where the parts relate to each other so extensively on a motivic-thematic basis.

• BWV 565 deserves a prominent place in music history, since it may represent the first example of a piece continuously based on motivic-thematic work.

• Whoever composed BWV 565 anticipated distinctly several compositional principles of the Classical era.

Part 5 of this article will further explore these startling assertions, and Part 6 will present an answer to the question, “Who else?”

To be continued.

Notes

1. Pianist-musicologist Dr. John Strauss of Luther College, Decorah, Iowa, was of invaluable help in providing dedicated advice and assistance to the author in the completion of this text.

2. The Diapason published the restored version of measure 72 in “The fitting filler for the fugue,” by Michael Gailit, January 2021, page 17.

3. Tetrachord is the Greek term for four consecutive notes in one direction. The motivic development in BWV 565 occasionally changes the form of the tetrachord. The nature of the compositional style allows for application of this term for all note combinations whose material consists of four consecutive notes, no matter in which order they appear. However, the basic shape of the stepwise progression in one direction should be recognizable.

Exploring the unknown of BWV 565, Part 3

Michael Gailit

Michael Gailit graduated from the University of Music and Performing Arts in Vienna with both performance and pedagogy diplomas in organ as well as in piano. Teaching piano at this institute since 1980, he has also conducted the organ studio at the Musik und Kunst Universität in Vienna since 1995. As church organist he served at St. Augustine’s Church, 1979–2008; in 2011 he was appointed organist at the Jesuit Church (Old University Church).

Both in his performance and teaching repertoire, Gailit includes all style areas on the base of their individual performance practices. He has toured with solo recitals on both instruments in Europe as well as in North America and appeared with leading orchestras and renowned conductors. Recordings, masterclasses, invitations to juries, musicological publications, editing sheet music, compositions, arrangements, supporting the piano-organ duo repertoire, commissioned works, first performances, and finally occasional trips into the theatre and silent movie repertoire should be noted.

Particular attention was received in 1989 for the first performance of the complete piano and organ works of Julius Reubke (1834–1858), the performance of the complete organ works of Franz Schmidt (1874–1939) the same year, as well as in September 2005 a series of six recitals with the trio sonatas of Johann Sebastian Bach, the organ sonatas of Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, and the organ symphonies of Louis Vierne. Currently Gailit is working on a book The Enigma BWV 565, a study elucidating new answers and new questions.

BWV 565

Editor’s note: Part 1 of this series appeared in the June 2021 issue of The Diapason, pages 18–19; part 2 appeared in the July 2021 issue, pages 12–14.

The first and second articles of this series examined the first thirty measures up to the fugue of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565. Does it make sense to break down this most famous organ work into its smallest parts? Where is the benefit in lining up countless musical terms to describe one note combination after the other? Due to new evidence, the case of BWV 565 deserves a fresh review. Facts that were considered certain became open questions. This concerns first of all the compositional characteristics, but then also the earliest manuscript and its scribe, the dating, and finally, in the search for the author, the localization of a prime suspect.

In the toccata, hitherto undiscovered thematic processes of surprising density and an abundance of motivic metamorphosis has come to light. We apply now this note-by-note investigation to the fugue, the larger section of BWV 565. Measures 12 and 13 have already prepared the theme, as an adjusted stemming reveals (Example 28). Removing the repeating A from the fugue theme, a line emerges that strings together four tetrachords in the upbeat form of a figura suspirans. In addition, eight notes at the beginning represent the nucleus idea (as we labeled the opening mordent and the following descent). Both toccata and fugue start with the mordent A–G–A.

The general layout for the fugue provides for four voices. Actual four-voice texture, however, is only reached in eight measures:

• in measures 52 and 53 with the first pedal entry,

• fragmentarily in measures 100 and 101,

• in measures 120 and 121, where the first tetrachord of the fugue theme lines up in the pedal four times, accompanied by a homophonic texture on the manual,

• and in measures 126 and 127, supporting the climax character of the closing cadence.

Table 1 shows the structure of the fugue. Counting the measures of relevant sections, the sums happen to be all prime numbers. To assign any symbolic meaning to these numbers would be pure speculation. Their common property of avoiding regularity, however, makes them worthy of mention. There are:

• 13 theme entries,

• 29 full measures of the toccata section, the closing chord not included,

• 17 measures for the recitativ section, the closing chord in measure 30 included (with this closing chord both toccata and recitativ avoid an integer, as do all interludes but the first),

• 23 × 2 measures of toccata and recitativ sections together (23 measures on average for each section, but also here an instance to avoid exact 1:1 proportion),

• 71-measure compass of all interludes in the fugue,

• 97-measure compass of the fugue,

• 127 measures from measure 1 to the end of the fugue, and finally,

• 143-measure compass of the complete piece.

At this point, it can be assumed that the inclined reader has become familiar with the constant use and changes of the central motives of the work. Allow yourself the adventure of going on the motive quest yourself. You are welcome to take the role of a fictitious musical CSI agent and find out what all sorts of things the motives go through. Perhaps you like to report circumstantial evidence. Or read on right away.

Entries and counterpoints

The fugue coordinates thirteen theme entries in three groups. Two of the entries are one voice only, the first one of course, and then the twelfth, the pedal solo. Eleven of them are accompanied by a counterpoint in the sense of the word origin punctum contra punctum, Latin for note against note. Table 2 lists the counterpoints in pitch notation, grouped in context with the theme into four sections of four notes. This results in 44 motives that are all related to the main material, among them 21 tetrachords, all of them ascending (green notes in the table) and 14 cross motives (red notes in the table). On beat 1 we localize 24 mordents (highlighted with a gray box). The two immanent voices of the counterpoint to the eighth entry are notated in the table simultaneously, with the accessory notes grayed out.

The criticism regarding counterpoint in BWV 565 fixates on the lack of contrasting qualities. If these were present, however, any contrasting counterpoint would need to waive relationships to the thematic material. The motivic substance of the counterpoints mirrors clearly the ever-present thematic work in BWV 565, as does the variety to the concept of metamorphosis. The motivation for creating a work like BWV 565 may have been, among other things, to explore new qualities away from contrapuntal skills.

While the toccata opening moves almost exclusively in tonic and dominant harmonies, the fugue strongly inclines toward the subdominant G minor. Its theme allows the answer only in that key. Thus, the entries in the first development (the exposition) follow the unusual key sequence: D minor–G minor–D minor–G minor.

The second development starts in measure 57 with an entry in the parallel key of F major and returns with the next entry to D minor in measure 70. After the longest interlude in the fugue, the second development continues with two entries in C minor, rounded up with a fifth entry in G minor. The choice of C minor for two consecutive theme entries is not as far-fetched as sometimes described. If the answer to the theme has to join on the subdominant, only one step further in the circle of fifths is necessary to arrive at the double subdominant C minor.

The theme entry in measure 105 marks the beginning of the third development. Consolidating the main key, all entries remain in D minor. Observing the number of accidentals that belong to the keys of the entries, together with the indication in which voices they occur, the construction plan becomes apparent. The tenor entries are given in red capitals to underline their structural significance (Example 29).

The eleventh entry in measures 107 through 109, sometimes not counted as such, consists of four consecutive tetrachords and is therefore to be regarded as an entry of its own. This variant completes the entries in the final development in the number of four, and it occupies the allotted space in the soprano voice. On the one hand, the theme of a fugue has to remain true to its melodic shape throughout. On the other hand, small deviations from the original shape are justifiable when the theme appears four times in a row in the main key, especially in a piece so dedicated to thematic development. The four entries differ by the following properties:

• entry in measure 105: no changes;

• entry in measure 107: the first tetrachord replaces the repeated A by steps, the last two tetrachords take other positions (Example 30);

• entry in measure 109: waives all other voices as a pedal solo;

• entry in measure 124: the last two notes take other positions.

It looks like the modification of the last entry was necessary to insert another cadence to reach beat 1 with the closing chord. If the theme remained unchanged, the ending would have arrived half a measure early (Example 31).

The interludes

The figurations of the first interlude, measures 34 through 39, combine two tetrachords with almost only cross motives. For a clear graphic presentation, we combine the notes to chords in pitch notation and then project them colored on an open score. As before, the tetrachords are green, the cross motives red (Example 32).

The next interlude stacks only tetrachords across measures 41 through 45 (Example 33). The passage contains a maximum of motivic density. It is like one of those circulating riddles: how many tetrachords can you spot in these measures? The left hand twice has the Phrygian cadence D–C–B-flat–A an octave apart (red notes), plus G–F–E–D (brown notes), prepared by the upbeats F–E–D–C-sharp (green notes). The right hand has four descending tetrachords (red notes) answered by four ascending retrograde derivatives (cyan notes), the last one incomplete. Counting the colored groups, we add seven tetrachords since the last group lacks the last note; counting the ones with notes at the same positions (marked with gray slurs) we add another seven of them for the same reason of the last missing note. On top sits one more tetrachord with A–G–F–E (green notes). We finally arrive at a grand total of 19 tetrachords in four measures (Example 34).

Measures 45 and 46 serve as a transition and combine three turn motives with another variant of the tetrachord (Example 35). Measures 47 and 48 change to a polyphonic texture in complementary rhythms. The nucleus idea appears twice in D minor and split into its three-note groups, mordent—trichord—mordent (Example 36). Subsequently, the chain of sixteenth-note motives in measures 49 and 50 develops three four-note motives: the first four notes of the theme, the tetrachord, and the cross motive, the latter widely stretched (Example 37). Furthermore, the passage also hides two nucleus derivatives (red notes in the example). The counterpoint parts descend with a new aspect. Two tetrachords are notably extended in length and colored with chromaticism (Example 38).

The theme entries of the exposition each have gradually increased the number of voices. The maximum of four voices is reached with the pedal entry in measure 52. The following interlude in measure 54 goes back to three voices. The section repeats the tetrachord in the form of descending steps (Example 39). Since the pattern ascends four steps in measures 54 through 55, we discover eight more tetrachords and therefore a total of 16 tetrachords (Example 40). The pedal picks up the previously introduced idea and extends a tetrachord in length and with chromatic coloring (Example 41).

Three further half measures prepare the beginning of the second development. Modulating to F major, they are filled in the top voice one by one with two turn motives, two new tetrachord derivatives, and finally two simple tetrachords. The lower voice follows in parallel motion in four cases (Example 42). The theme appears with its counterpoint only, the number of voices shrinks further down to two. The next interlude, spanning measures 59 through 61, reduces further. The descending scales combine a pentachord and a tetrachord and ascend along a pentachord. So, this thin texture creates a mass of nine simultaneously ascending pentachords of the notes at the same position in the scales (Example 43)!

Still two voices, but due to the unison C again a thinner texture, measures 62 through 65 shift the mordent to the weak beats of simple figurations. As a result, the constant presence of the main motive of the piece goes surprisingly unnoticed (Example 44).

In measure 66, the reduction of voices finally reaches the texture minimum of one single voice. Simple broken chords suggest that all developmental procedures have ceased. The source of inspiration could have been the arpeggio in measure 2 as another welcome element to develop.

Each harmony is rolled twice, a performance practice best known from the Prelude in C Major, BWV 846, by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750), which dates back to the collection of piano pieces of 1720 for Wilhelm
Friedemann Bach (1710–1784). Again, we combine the notes into chords in pitch notation and then project them on an open score. This reveals five lines with two tetrachords on top and three derivatives below (Example 45).

At 143 measures in total length, the center of BWV 565 is in the middle of measure 71. That is also the center of the D minor entry that in turn marks the center of the whole piece. In the earliest manuscript, measure 72 comprises only three beats of four sixteenth notes. A fitting filler dating from the beginning of the nineteenth century came into use up to the present. It completes measure 72 smoothly, but it deviates too much to claim authenticity. The author discovered that each theme entry appears unabridged, only in measure 72 it lacks a full beat in the earliest manuscript. Completing the theme and the counterpoint, measure 72 is automatically completed as well. Measure 72 regained in all probability its true original form (Example 46). The Diapason thankfully premiered this correction with the publication of “BWV 565: The Fitting Filler for the Fugue” by the author in January 2021, page 17.

Developing a piece with thematic processes gives numerous possibilities to create a diverse variety of music on the basis of unifying motivic material. Examples show, however, that one’s powder can be shot too quickly, that no further development could be found, and that initial momentum and power did not continue. Part 4 will pursue the question as to how or if the composer mastered this challenge.

To be continued.

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