Busoni and Bach

For many violinists, studying the Bach Chaconne is a lifelong journey to understanding. The sheer task of conveying the beautiful music from 15 minutes of unrelenting technical prowess and impossibly uncomfortable chords takes years to truly master. But within this daunting work are so many secrets yet to be uncovered. After all, Bach never provided us with any tempo markings or any suggestions as to how it should be played. As a result, performers and scholars alike have created numerous different meanings from the notes Bach provided to us. Almost 400 years after the work was written, this final movement of Bach’s Partita No. 2 in d minor remains one of humanity’s most venerable - and mysterious - achievements. 

It’s mind-boggling how beautiful the Bach Chaconne is in light of how many constraints it was written under. The violin is a largely monophonic instrument, unable to sustain more than 2 notes at once. Bach, being the genius architect he was, managed to write 3… even 4 voices on the violin. Polyphony at its greatest. Even so, the violin has its limits. Whereas you can layer endless textures and voices on a piano score to make the music resonate more, the violin can barely play multiple voices as it is. Additionally, most of the violin’s potential as a concert instrument (like the piano) hadn’t been fully exploited until Paganini’s time. During the Baroque period, many of today’s vital expressive elements - dynamics, vibrato, varying note lengths - were much less available. Thus, Bach had only one thing to turn to: the natural resonance of the violin’s open strings. It’s only fitting that he chose the key of D Minor, which contains most notably the open D an A strings, to write in sections that showcase sympathetic vibrations. Just like all of Bach’s music (and Baroque music in general), the Chaconne is very chordal. I guess what I’m trying to say is that most of the expression in this piece comes not from texture or instrumentation, but from the sheer beauty of its harmonies. That is why recordings such as Hilary Hahn’s, which take minimal interpretive liberties, are lauded as some of the best in the game. 

While it is a good bet just to let the natural harmonies speak for themselves, many musicians sought more from the Bach Chaconne. Written into those harmonies - into the chord progression itself - is so much potential for expression, so many ways the performer can bring the music forward. Violinists interpret this work every day through unique performances, but during the height of the Romantic Era, Italian pianist-composer Frerrucio Busoni took it one step further. The Bach-Busoni Chaconne is the ripest fruit of this pianist’s genius, offering musicians of all calibers a refreshing perspective on the monumental Chaconne. 

Now, I should probably ask my pianist friends about any common compositional techniques for the Romantic piano. But what drove me to write this blog is how the Busoni arrangement made my dreams about how I will play the ending come to life. Starting with an hushed, eerie chromatic passage against the violin’s open A string, Bach keeps building more and more tension against this open A drone until it is released at a strong D minor cadence. Then, all hell breaks loose. While most violinists recognize that this D minor chord is the result of measures and measures of buildup, they don’t treat the triplet section that follows with enough significance. In the Busoni version, the triplets practically fly out of the piano. They are played at a fiery fast tempo, almost as if it were a Beethoven Piano Sonata. Additionally, pedal and bass notes are added to signify the importance of this strong D minor cadence. I almost teared up having my vision of how the Bach Chaconne is to be played manifested. 

Perhaps the most interesting mystery that Busoni addressed through this revolutionary ending is the possibility for a Picardy third on the final chord. A Picardy third is a technique where the composer raises the third of the final chord in a mostly minor composition, thus making the final chord in major. In his original violin version, Bach only ends with a massive, sustained “D.” Most violinists assume this work ends in minor, but a D can either imply D minor or D Major. Busoni noticed this ambiguity - this question - left by Bach, but he didn’t stick to a definitive answer. Instead, he puts a sharp sign in parentheses on the final F natural, indicating to the performer that they can either end in minor… or a Picardy third. Especially in the Busoni version, a hopeful ending has a tremendous dramatic effect on the listener. In the chords preceding it, Busoni adds clanging notes at the very bottom of the piano’s register; then barking high notes against that final statement of the diminished 7th chord. Nowhere in this arrangement is it more apocalyptic. So against the drama of this “coda,” where it feels like the world is ending, a major chord would feel like a holy miracle. 

For me, ending on a Picardy third would absolutely give new meaning to my favorite work. In my eyes, the Chaconne depicts the memory of a lost loved one. After all, many see the chaconne - or the entire 2nd partita - as a tombeau for Maria Barbara Bach. Legend has it that Bach returned from a musical vacation only to find his first wife dead. After Bach states his menacing theme (and the bass line that the variations are derived from), the first 31 variations in minor give the impression of utter confusion. There are bursts of anger, then subdued statements of longing. At the end of this section, the main theme is stated again… but something in the cadential chords indicate that something is yet to come. I wish I knew the actual analysis of these chords. Then comes the most miraculous moment in music, something that never ceased to thrill violinist Nathan Milstein as if he were a child. Out of all the confusion, all of the frantic chords and scalar runs, emerges an ethereal choral melody in D Major. It’s as if Bach has suddenly forgotten all the pain he was in, relishing in the happy memories he and his wife shared. The major variations that follow only build upon that hushed choral melody, culminating in a rush of pure joy that one only feels when they are at peace with the world. But Bach soon gets back into reality, reintroducing the original bass line in minor while writing a completely different melody on it. This new melody is like a sigh of defeat, and the new variations that follow have much more unity than the first set of minor variations. Bach is now more in touch with his own feelings, no longer in denial about his wife’s death. When you remember a lost loved one, you eventually come to the realization that there is nothing you can do to get them back. In a way, you lose that sense of control you thought you have, and let that part of you wither away. In my vision, the final note or chord of the chaconne does just that: withers away in sadness. If it were to end with a Picardy third, the chaconne would no longer be about emotional defeat, but triumph. I’ve already discussed how miraculous a major chord sounds against the apocalyptic final statement of the theme. So if the chaconne were to end in major, it would represent the impossibility of finding hope even in the deepest chasms of sorrow. Seeing that one little crack of sunshine in a cave of abyss is perhaps the greatest triumph one can go through. Through suggesting a Picardy third, Busoni provides performers with a unique opportunity to create their own meaning out of Bach’s monumental Chaconne. 

There is still much to be discussed about Busoni’s transcription - not to mention the many transcriptions of the Chaconne that exist. I’m sure there are still secrets hidden in Bach’s work that even the most seasoned scholars have yet to discover. Part of the reason I, along with many people, love classical music is how there is always something new to be pondered about works we’ve heard thousands of times.