481 2901

Johann Sebastian Bach

Six Suites for Solo Violoncello, BWV 1007–1012
Partita for Solo Flute, BWV 1013
Transcribed with embellishment for Harpsichord
by Winsome Evans

P and C 2016 Winsome Evans. Licensed exclusively to the Australian Broadcasting Corporation. Distributed in Australia
and New Zealand by Universal Music Group, under exclusive licence. Made in Australia. All rights of the owner
Winsome Evans
of copyright reserved. Any copying, renting, lending, diffusion, public performance or broadcast of
this record without the authority of the copyright owner is prohibited. Harpsichord
 J O H A N N S E B A S T I A N B AC H
Six Suites for Solo Violoncello, BWV 1007–1012
&
Partita for Solo Flute, BWV 1013
transcribed with embellishment for harpsichord by
WINSOME EVANS

CD 1
Suite 5 in D minor, BWV 1011 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31’ 24”
1. Prelude 6’ 21”
2. Allemande 6’ 33”
3. Courante 2’ 59”
4. Sarabande 6’ 03”
5. Gavotte 1 2’ 16”
6. Gavotte 2 1’ 43”
7. Gavotte 1 da Capo 2’ 50”
8. Gigue 2’ 35”

Suite 4 in F major, BWV 1010 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31’ 42”

9. Preludium 4’ 57”
10. Allemande 5’ 12”
11. Courante 4’ 00”
12. Sarabande 7’ 12”
13. Bourrée 1 2’ 59”
14. Bourrée 2 0’ 50”
15. Bourrée 1 da Capo 3’ 03”
16. Gigue 3’ 23”

Suite 5 in D minor, BWV 1011: Prelude TOTAL TIME: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63’ 17”

CD 2 CD 3
Suite 1 in G major, BWV 1007 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25’ 58” Suite 6 in C major, BWV 1012 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34’ 53”
1. Prelude 3’ 55” 1. Prelude 4’ 10”
2. Allemande 5’ 24” 2. Allemande 9’ 57”
3. Courante 4’ 11” 3. Courante 4’ 33”
4. Sarabande 5’ 39” 4. Sarabande 6’ 42”
5. Menuet 1 1’ 33” 5. Gavotte 1 1’ 43”
6. Menuet 2 1’ 29” 6. Gavotte 2 1’ 28”
7. Menuet 1 da Capo 1’ 34” 7. Gavotte 1 da Capo 1’ 47”
8. Gigue 2’ 09” 8. Gigue 4’ 28”

Suite 3 in C major, BWV 1009 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26’ 47” Partita in G minor, BWV 1013 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35’ 33”
9. Prelude 2’ 33” 9. Prelude 6’ 58”
10. Allemande 4’ 05” 10. Allemande 7’ 29”
11. Courante 5’ 00” 11. Corrente 5’ 11”
12. Sarabande 6’ 12” 12. Sarabande 12’ 19”
13. Bourrée 1 1’ 59” 13. Bourrée Angloise 3’ 34”
14. Bourrée 2 1’ 33”
15. Bourrée 1 da Capo 1’ 52” TOTAL TIME: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70’ 38”
16. Gigue 3’ 29”

Suite 2 in D minor, BWV 1008 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26’ 41”

17. Prelude 5’ 26”
18. Allemande 4’ 15” performed by
19. Courante 3’ 13” Winsome Evans
20. Sarabande 6’ 15”
21. Menuet 1 1’ 27” harpsichord after Christian Zell, Hamburg, 1728
22. Menuet 2 1’ 23” by Alastair McAllister, Melbourne, 1984
23. Menuet 1 da Capo 1’ 26”
24. Gigue 3’ 11”

TOTAL TIME: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79’ 47”

 4 5
“Why should one not be able to treat
the same things on a keyboard as on
other instruments, since no single
instrument has ever disputed the
keyboard’s claims to perfection?”
(Johann Kuhnau, Leipzig, 1692)
“And so the ultimate end or final
purpose of all music … is nothing
other than the praise of God and
the recreation of the soul. Where
this is not taken into account,
then there is no true music, only a
devilish bawling and droning.”
(Johann Sebastian Bach, 1738)
“…his house was like a beehive,
and just as full of life. Association
with him was pleasant for everyone
and often very edifying.”
(Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, 1775
“Bach … who with his hurrying
hand so wondrous sure doth play …
whene’er he plays, doth each and
all astound.”
(Johann Gottlob Kittel, 1731)
“Lipsiae miraculum”
(Constantin Bellerman, 1743)
These CDs incorporate the now-
completed project to make scores and
recordings of keyboard transcriptions
of Johann Sebastian Bach’s three
series of works for unaccompanied
solo instruments, namely: Sonatas and
Partitas for Solo Violin (BWV 1001–
1006), Six Suites for Solo Violoncello
(BWV 1007–1012) and the Partita for
Solo Flute (BWV 1013): his Libro Primo
and possibly Libro Secondo and Libro
Terzo.
The inspiration for this extensive
project derived from hearing Gustav
Leonhardt play, as an encore at the end of
a wonderful solo harpsichord recital (in
the Sydney Opera House in the 1980s),
his own keyboard transcription of a
movement from one of Bach’s cello Suites.
This was the initial force which led me
to make my own transcription of the long
Ciaccona from the solo violin Partita in
D minor (BWV 1004) in c. 1985.
The ensuing history of my aims and
involvement in the transcription of the
solo works for violin (BWV 1001–1006)
was outlined in previous CD liner notes
(celestial harmonies 14268, et al.), where
I have acknowledged the inspirational
encouragement of my last, late mentor
Emeritus Professor Sir Peter Platt. The
completion of this project of devising
keyboard transcriptions – including the
creation of varied reprises for all the
dance movements – of all the solo works
of Bach (BWV 1001–1013) in Bach’s style,
has taken almost 30 years.
The composition of varied reprises
with organised embellishment in
eighteenth-century style has been intended
to represent not so much improvised
embellishment (though this did frequently
occur during the recorded performance)
but rather, pre-composed, organised
embellishment such as Bach himself
created in his scores as well as, reputedly,
in his keyboard performances. It is this
aspect of performance – i.e. pre-composed
embellishment – which occurs here in all
repeated sections of the dance movements
and also in the preludes. In 1827 Hans-
Joachim Schulze referred to the “French
foam” of Bach’s textures, notated with
“wild curls”, like “curly French wigs”.
In a letter to Goethe, also in 1827, Carl
Friedrich Zelter commented that:
“the French foam in Seb. Bach’s
music cannot – I must admit – be
 6 7
so readily lifted off that you can lay
your hands on it. It is like ether: it
permeates all, yet is intangible”.
These comments are obviously made in
reference to the visual score, thus they
do not entirely refer to what the eyes
cannot see – but the ears can hear – in an
actual performance: that is, the “turgid”,
“florid” and “confused” elements
some of Bach’s contemporaries heard
in his compositions (and their constant
revisions); as well as the unexpected
ornamental elements in the live
performances of “the greatest keyboard
improviser in Germany” (remembering
that, in the eighteenth century, improvised
or pre-composed embellishment was
considered a “normal” performance
practice activity).
In general terms, this project has
embraced some of those aspects of Bach’s
compositional achievements noted by
Johann Abraham Birnbaum (1738), such as:
“… the connection and alternation
of consonances and dissonances
without hurt to the harmony
… [thus avoiding] insipid little
ditties that consist of nothing but
consonances … [in textures where]
the voices … work wonderfully in
and about one another, but without
the slightest confusion … so the
principal and inner voices have
their proper share of work.”
He also refers to the fact that the addition
of ornaments is “almost everywhere
valued and considered desirable.”
The creative intention of this whole
project was not to modernise but to devise
keyboard transcriptions of all these
solo works emulating Bach’s stylistic
textural idioms, compositional procedures
and performance practices. Since the
eighteenth century, this is a relatively new
approach to the transcription of Bach and
attempts a stylistic purity not “spoiled by
… new-fangled taste” (Johann Abraham
Birnbaum).
The fanciful, dedicatory thrust of
the whole project was that it be created,
as the title page to Bach’s Clavier-
Übung III states: “for Music Lovers,
and especially for Connoisseurs of such
work, to refresh their spirits” (Denen
Liebhabern, und besonders denen
Kennern von dergleichen Arbeit,
zur Gemüths Ergezung verfertiget);
and particularly, that it make the rich
variety and beauty of Bach’s elegantly
expressive solo instrument repertoire
available to harpsichord players (and
performers on other, modern keyboard
instruments), all the while bearing in
mind, as Christoph Wolff has pointed out,
that “Bach’s rewriting of his own music
often resulted in a thorough and complete
transformation of the original.” It is
hoped that these transcriptions will not
offend the violin, cello and flute soloists
who feel strong affiliation with the
original versions of this repertoire.
While these now-completed
transcriptions for harpsichord of all
Bach’s repertoire for solo instruments
do newly embody several baroque-style
concepts and methodologies, they have
been inspired by other earlier and related
twentieth-century achievements in the
field of historical transcription. Firstly,
as acknowledged at the beginning of
this document, were the outstanding
transcriptions for harpsichord by
Gustav Leonhardt. Earlier pioneering
achievements were the transcriptions for
lute of the complete solo violin and solo
cello repertoire (but not the flute Partita)
made, firstly, in the 1970s by the Dutch
lutenist Gusta Goldschmidt (unfortunately
not recorded); then, in the 1990s by the
English lutenist Nigel North (recorded for
Linn Records) and, more recently, in 2013
by Hopkinson Smith on theorbo (for Naïve).
xux
There is evidence of various sorts –
both direct and inferred – to support
the validity of the concept and creative
details of this transcription project. Most
important and direct is the evidence that
Bach himself played some of his solo
string repertoire on the keyboard. Allied
with this are his many other keyboard
transcription creations – such as his
c. 1710 transcriptions of various sonata
movements by Johann Adam Reincken,
his keyboard transcriptions of Italianate
concertos for solo oboe or violin and
string orchestra – commissioned by Prince
Johann Ernst, c. 1713/1714 – in which
Forkel claimed (1802) Bach made changes
“in the ideas and passages composed for
the violin, but not suitable for the clavier”,
and culminating in the grand Leipzig
harpsichord concertos (all but one of
 8 9
which were transcriptions of pre-existing
concertos for solo violin or oboe).
To support the direct evidence mentioned
above, Johann Friedrich Agricola, a former
student of Bach’s from 1738 to 1740,
claimed in 1774 to have heard Bach playing
his solo violin pieces on the keyboard in
harmonic, contrapuntal settings:
“Their composer often played
them on the clavier, adding as
much in the nature of harmony as
he found necessary. In so doing,
he recognised the necessity of a
sounding harmony, such as in
compositions of this sort he could
not more fully achieve.”
Given Bach’s well-documented ability to
improvise complicated contrapuntal and
harmonic textures, he would not have
needed to write out such transcriptions,
although he possibly expected and
encouraged his students to develop skill
in such improvisatory-embellishing
practices. Bach’s prowess in this practice
is attested to in his Obituary (1754)
compiled by Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach
and Johann Friedrich Agricola:
“He needed only to have heard
any theme to be aware – it seemed
in the same instant – of almost
every intricacy that artistry could
produce in the treatment of it …
Thanks to his greatness in harmony
[i.e. harmony and counterpoint], he
accompanied trios on the spur of
the moment [and] converted them
into complete quartets”.
The Obituary further states:
“How strange, how new, how
expressive, how beautiful were his
ideas in improvising! How perfectly
he realised them! All his fingers
were equally skilful; all were
equally capable of the most perfect
accuracy in performance”.
This gift is further attested to by another
former pupil, Johann Philipp Kirnberger
who, in 1774, recalled Bach’s “admirably
learned way of improvising in many
voices”.
Thus, in making the transcriptions it
was necessary to be mindful of all this, as
well as the necessity of not “simplifying”
harmonic and contrapuntal textures in
any way, in aiming to maintain a level of
difficulty comparable to that facing the
original solo string or wind performer. It
was mandatory to keep in mind Bach’s
keyboard creations in which there is no
compromise towards facility, to make
things “easy”.
There are many contemporary refer-
ences to record this non-compromising
approach of Bach’s, for example:
“… there still hovers the memory
of his astonishing facility in
invention and improvisation; and
his performance, equally excellent
in all keys, in the most difficult
passages and figures” (Friedrich
Wilhelm Marpurg, 1752);
“on the harpsichord … he
mastered all aspects of music with
the force of an Atlas … he was a
virtuoso as much as a composer …
his writing strengthens the hand and
fills the ear. Both hands are equally
occupied, so that the left doesn’t
slacken when the right grows
strong” (Christian Friedrich Daniel
Schubart, 1784–5);
“… since he judges according
to his own fingers, his pieces are
extremely difficult to play” (Johann
Adolph Scheibe, 1737).
Bach’s keyboard skills are, to a certain
extent, reflected in the virtuosic textures
in the keyboard series Clavier-Übung
I–IV published between 1726 and 1741
and, more relevantly for this current project,
the grand technical mastery of the English
Suites (1720) and the six Partitas of Clavier-
Übung I. In these pieces (and those which
followed), Bach made no concessions
to technical difficulty in his pursuit of
musical excellence – as Forkel inferred:
“This work in its time made a
great noise in the musical world.
Such excellent compositions for
the clavier had never been seen
nor heard before. Anyone who had
learnt to perform well some pieces
out of them could make his fortune
in the current world thereby.”
Bach’s natural virtuosity on harpsichord
and organ was facilitated by his invention
of a system of fingering allowing him to
overcome technical barriers. The Obituary
claims stated above confirm this:
“He had devised for himself so
convenient a system of fingering
that it was not hard for him to
conquer the greatest difficulties
with the most flowing facility.”
The lawyer Birnbaum confirmed Bach’s
non-compromising attitude towards

technical prowess:
“One can do anything if one really
wishes to, and if one industriously
strives to convert natural abilities,
by untiring zeal, into perfected
skills” (1739).
This attitude is more bluntly affirmed by a
former student of Bach’s, Johann Philipp
Kirnberger:
“The great J. Seb. Bach used to say
‘Everything must be possible’ and
he would never hear of anything’s
being ‘not feasible’” (1781).
So this project has entailed having to
deal with and to replicate what Robert
Schumann in the 1830s described as
Bach’s “boldly labyrinthine style”,
in which “he employed every proper
harmonic art and every improper
harmonic artifice, in earnest and in
jest with … boldness and individuality”
(Johann Friedrich Reichardt, 1796) and
thus, like Bach, without compromise,
“be able to think deeply and in intricate
combinations” (Johann Michael Schmidt,
1754); bearing in mind the compositional
epithet of Bach’s exact contemporary,
Domenico Scarlatti: “Ingenious Jesting
with Art” (1738/9).
10
P rovenance
It is universally accepted that the
solo string pieces BWV 1001–1012
“demonstrate Bach’s command of
performing techniques” (Wolff), but
perhaps not all agree with the following
comments that
“… each line, while making sense
as an independent melody, contains
harmonic implications that suggest
or even create polyphony and tonal
movement existing in time” (Wilfrid
Mellers, 1980).
Wolff too has claimed that the cello
Suites manifest “his ability to bring into
play … dense counterpoint and refined
harmony”. Perhaps more realistic was the
claim made in 1917 by Ernst Kurth that
“Bach’s line never becomes bogged down
in a feeble playing with harmonies”, and
that his chordal effects are compensated
with “increasing melodic strength”.
Kurth’s overview was reinforced in 1997
by Werner Breig, who summarised the
solo cello works as
“prototypes of a linear approach
to composition [where] even in
lines that appear to be based on
broken chords, it is the melodic
element that is essential to our
understanding.”
These comments do not fully account
for the resonances of the instrument, the
acoustics of the venue, nor the many,
various arpeggic and multi-stopped
passages in the score. It is understandably
difficult to not over-exaggerate what
one actually hears when this magically
wonderful music is played by an
exceptionally gifted musician on a richly
timbre’d solo instrument in a way that
inflames one’s imagination.
There is so much that one might
discuss concerning the history and
provenance of the six cello Suites and the
flute Partita, as well as their historical
performance practice, the dating of their
creation and the “mystery” of the Suites’
intended instrument. However, as regards
their authorship, this author/performer has
no doubts that the Suites and the Partita
are the creations of Johann Sebastian
Bach and no one else (until convincingly
incontrovertible evidence can be produced
to verify other claims to authorship).
On the other hand, there is a certain
degree of uncertainty regarding exactly
11
when the solos for violin, cello and flute
were composed. Wolff has suggested the
following:
(1) the violin Sonatas and Partitas – “fair
copies [were] made in 1720”;
(2) the cello Suites – were composed “in
about 1720”;
(3) the flute Partita – was composed some
time “after 1723”.
He further suggested the possibility that
the cello solos “are probably earlier” than
the violin solos due to what he perceived as
their different styles and their “simplicities
and oddities”. He offers “c. 1728” as a
possible date for the Anna Magdalena copy
of the Suites (other scholars have suggested
“between 1727 and 1730”), and “c. 1726”
for Johann Peter Kellner’s copy (thus making
Kellner’s copy the earliest known surviving
copy of the lost Bach autograph). These
suggestions further infer that these string
solos were created in the same period as his
keyboard suites and partitas, the making
of the deluxe copy of the Brandenburg
Concerti (1721) and also, possibly, the
composition of the six Sonatas for Violin
and Harpsichord, BWV 1014–1019 (which
was made in “various earlier versions …
before 1725 – before 1740”).
 12
To somewhat muddy these carefully
considered datings, mention must be
made of the following and its various,
attendant implications – namely, that
the title page of Bach’s autograph fair
copy of the six solo violin pieces (BWV
1001–1006) includes the words “Libro
Primo” after the actual title. It has been
suggested that the lost autograph of the six
solo cello pieces (BWV 1007–1012) was
intended as a “Libro Secondo”, and that
“Libro Terzo” might have been a series
of six Partitas for solo flute, of which
only one (BWV 1013) has survived the
ravages of time. Certainly the copying of
the lost autographs of “Libro Secondo”
and “Libro Terzo” must have post-
dated the autograph of “Libro Primo”
(the creation of whose contents can be
dated, conceptually, to Bach’s Weimar
employment – 1708 to 1714).
As mentioned above, Wolff’s
compositional dating of the flute Partita
is c. 1723. The surviving manuscript
(scrawled in a seemingly hasty
calligraphy) was in the possession of the
family of Wilhelm Rust (1822–1892),
the first editor (from 1855 to 1881) of
the 26-volume critical edition of all
Bach’s known works. Rust came from a
third generation of musicians with close
connections to the Bach family – which
may have made possible the Partita’s
survival. Thus, Friedrich Wilhelm Rust
(1739–1794), the above-mentioned
Rust’s grandfather, was a composer and
keyboard performer who had studied
and had close professional connections
with both Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl
Philipp Emanuel Bach. Wilhelm Rust’s
uncle, Wilhelm Karl Rust (1787–1855),
was an eminent pianist who was highly
regarded for his interpretation and playing
of Johann Sebastian Bach’s music.
The generalised dating of these
works (like so many others of Bach)
is, of necessity, due to many factors –
particularly, that scores were so often
loaned out and consequently lost (Johann
Elias Bach’s letter of 1741 confirmed that
his father “lost many things this way”),
forgetfully or deliberately not returned,
damaged, copied out by students,
colleagues and family members and thus
widely dispersed. Perhaps this explains
why a Partita for solo flute was not listed
in Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s account of
his father’s estate. Was it already by then
“lost” or forgotten, borrowed and never
returned – by the careless son Wilhelm
Friedemann Bach, or even Friedrich
Gottlieb Wild, Johann Gottlieb Würdig,
Johann Christoph Altnickol? Or the
musician for whom it was composed?
Violoncello, viola de basso: the
instrument and the performer
There is still considerable ongoing
research and debate about the instrument
(or instruments?) for which the cello
Suites were composed. While the many
unanswered questions and issues may
be only peripherally related to the main
business of this particular transcription
project, some mention of them may be
useful in pointing the difficulty of being
able to arrive at absolute certainties
in reference to the past history of
performance traditions which have been
lost due to incomplete, missing and
inaccurate documentation, and various
misconceptions.
Thus, one wonders if Bach, who
avidly studied the works of his Italian,
French and German predecessors
and contemporaries, knew of the solo
13
cello works of Domenico Gabrielli
(1659–1690), the widely-travelled Italian
virtuoso violoncellist and composer,
known as “Minghino dal violoncello”.
Did Bach know of, or even acquire,
a copy of his set of seven Ricercares
(published in 1687) for unaccompanied
cello with the top string tuned down a
tone (as in his own later Suite 5)? These
Ricercares, reputedly difficult pieces,
with florid passagework and double,
triple and quadruple stoppings, were
obviously for Gabrielli’s own use. This
author is currently unaware of any other
predecessors for Bach’s solo cello Suites.
Various scholars agree that Bach’s
solo music for violin, cello and flute was
probably included in his output of mainly,
but not entirely, instrumental works for
large and small ensembles – including
solos – for performances at the regular
courtly entertainments and soirées by the
virtuosi musicians of the Cöthen court
Capelle. So, equally as “thorny” as the
question of the flute Partita’s originally
intended performer is that concerning
the earliest performer(s) of the cello
Suites. Given that Bach composed music
for actual, professional performance,
 14
there must have been, initially, a specific
musician (or musicians?) who undertook
this role. The possibilities range from
the Capelle’s string bass virtuosi – Carl
Bernhard Lienicke (violoncello), Christian
Ferdinand Abel (viola da gamba and
violoncello) – to Prince Leopold (viola
and viola da gamba) and even Bach
himself. The reason for these possibly
outrageous final suggestions relates to the
actual instrument, and even instruments,
intended for performance (i.e. a string
bass instrument with variable tunings and
five strings).
There are several reasons for
considering Bach in this list of potential
performers, particularly from the evidence
in posthumous sources. For instance, in
his reminiscences to Johann Nikolaus
Forkel in 1774, Carl Philipp Emanuel
Bach offered a relevant clue to both his
father’s prowess as a bowed string player
and his preference for the viola:
“As the greatest expert and judge of
harmony, he liked best to play the
viola, with appropriate loudness
and softness… He understood to
perfection the possibilities of all
stringed instruments … evidenced
by his solos for the violin and the
violoncello without bass.”
This preference was reiterated in Forkel’s
biography of Bach:
“… he took pleasure in playing the
viola [where] he was, as it were, in
the middle of the harmony, whence
he could best hear and enjoy it, on
both sides.”
A further clue to the possibility of Bach’s
involvement in the performance of not
only the violin, but also the violoncello,
solos may lie in the mysterious instrument
cited in the list of instruments in the
Inventory of Bach’s estate. In this, after
the three braccie (violas), but before
the two violoncellos and one viola da
gamba, is listed an instrument designated
as Bassetgen. This may be the German
equivalent of the so-called Italian bassetto
– a small bass stringed instrument.
So, is this Bassetgen (little bass) the
“Viola de Basso” (bass viola) which Johann
Peter Kellner cites on the title page of his
c. 1726 manuscript copy of the Suites? Are the
“little bass” and the “bass viola” synonymous
with the “shoulder viola” to which Bach’s
contemporaries Johann Gottfried Walther
and Johann Mattheson refer?
For instance, in 1708 Walther (Bach’s
cousin, friend and Weimar colleague)
described, in his instruction manual for a
birthday gift presented to the young Duke
Ernst August, a particular bass stringed
instrument:
“The Violoncello is an Italian bass
instrument, not unlike a Viola da
Gamba, which is played almost
like a Violin, namely it is partly
held and played with the left hand
and partly, because of its weight,
hung from a button on the jacket,
and bowed with the right hand. It is
tuned like a viola.”
Five years later, in 1713, Mattheson
extended and clarified this description in
his treatise Das Neu-eröffnete Orchestre:
“The excellent Violoncello, the
Bassa Viola and the Viola di
Spalla are small bass violins, in
comparison with the large ones,
with five or also six strings upon
which one can play all manner
of rapid things, variations and
ornaments with less effort than on
the larger machines. Particularly,
the Viola di Spalla, or Shoulder
Viola produces a great effect… It is
15
attached by a strap to the chest and
at the same time it is thrown on the
right shoulder, and that way there is
nothing that can impede or prevent
its resonance.”
He further added that this last instrument
had sometimes five, sometimes six strings.
Four decades later, in 1752, Johann
Joachim Quantz confirmed quite
unequivocally that the Bassetgen or
Bassetchen or la petite Basse was a viola
and that the player
“must not only have an execution
equal to that of violinists, but must
likewise understand something of
harmony”.
The instrument described above by both
Walther and Mattheson is quite likely the
instrument which Forkel and others, such
as Ernst Ludwig Gerber, called the “viola
pomposa” (i.e. pompous or ceremonious
viola) – and erroneously described as
Bach’s “invention”. It should be noted in
this glimpse at varieties of nomenclature,
that Wolff simply, without fuss, equates
viola pomposa, Bassetchen [sic] and
violoncello piccolo as “a higher-range
bass string instrument”, adding – in
reference to the 5-string viola pomposa:
 16
“Bach made use of this 5-string
viola pomposa in the Suite in D
major, BWV 1012, specifically
designated “a cinq cordes” within
the set of solo cello suites.”
I am indebted to the scholarly research
of Professor Marc Vanscheeuwijck
(University of Oregon) for his re-evaluation
of the “baroque cello” and, specifically, the
instrument Bach may have intended for the
performance of the cello Suites. It is also
exciting to note that in recent years some
distinguished string players have become
involved in a practical way with these
not-yet-universally resolved performance
practice issues by playing the Suites on
da Spalla instruments – particularly,
Sigiswald Kuijken (2006) and Dmitry
Badiarov (2009), both playing instruments
made by Badiarov, a professional luthier,
as well as Christophe Coin and Bruno
Cocset and hopefully others. Badiarov’s
da Spalla instruments are copies of the
instrument made in Leipzig by Johann
Christian Hoffmann in consultation with
Bach. The mysterious Bassetgen listed in
Bach’s Inventory may be that instrument
upon which they collaborated or an earlier
instrument like that referred to by Walther
17
and Mattheson.
Most relevant of all, however, is the
possibility these recent researches and
practices offer that Bach himself played the
Suites on the family Bassetgen.
The flute Partita: performers
As there is little evidence that Bach
composed the flute Partita for his own
use, one can only hazard guesses about
the intended performer. There are several
possible contenders from the period
of Bach’s service as Capellmeister in
Cöthen (1717–1723). Was it the Capelle’s
recalcitrant chamber and town musician
Johann Gottlieb Würdig? Here one might
consider the close collaborative ties that
developed between the musicians of
the court Capelle during their frequent,
regular rehearsals in the Bach household
preparing mainly instrumental ensemble
and solo music for the assembled court’s
entertainment. As this included not only
solos for harpsichord but also – as seems
likely – for solo violin and solo cello, why
not for solo flute as well?
Or was the intended performer Pierre-
Gabriel Buffardin, whom Wolff suggests Partita for Solo Flute, BWV 1013: Allemande
 18
as the possible flute soloist in the 1717
version of Brandenburg Concerto 5?
The early version of this concerto may
have been specially composed for the
reputed (but cancelled) contest at the
electoral court in Dresden between Bach
and the Parisian keyboard virtuoso Louis
Marchand. In 1717, the current members of
the Dresden court Capelle, Jean-Baptiste
Woulmyer (violin) and Pierre-Gabriel
Buffardin (flute) might have been the
other two concertino soloists to support
Bach (harpsichord) in this concerto, with
Bach improvising extensively in the first
movement’s then short cadenza (and
possibly also in the space before the final
ritornello of the third movement?).
It is much more likely however, that the
solo flute Partita was composed during
the years of Bach’s Leipzig appointment.
This is strongly corroborated by Bach’s
relatively unprecedented outpouring
of sacred and secular chamber music
involving the transverse flute (rather
than the recorder). There are several
contenders in this period for the intended
performer of this single-surviving solo
flute Partita. Might Bach have offered
it to the talented flute player Friedrich
Gottlieb Wild, whom he occasionally
employed to perform in his Leipzig
church performances? Bach’s testimonial
for Wild in 1727 stated that he was a:
“noted musician [who] has always
shown himself to be diligent and
hardworking, in such a manner
that he … has helped to adorn our
church music with his well-learned
accomplishments on the Flaute
traversiere and Clavecin…”.
Or was the flute Partita composed
during a later period in Bach’s Leipzig
life? Was it written for the Berlin flute
player Michael Gabriel von Fredersdorf
(Chamberlain to King Frederick II of
Prussia)? Or even for the King himself?
Both the King and his Chamberlain
were, reputedly, accomplished flute
players. Certainly, as mentioned above,
in the years from c. 1723 to 1741, Bach
composed many sonatas involving
the transverse flute. These included a
commission for a flute sonata from von
Fredersdorf (the Sonata in E major,
BWV 1035, c.1741), which possibly
coincided with Bach’s 1741 visit to Berlin.
Interestingly, the autograph of this piece
has also been “lost”.
19
The transcription: ornamentation Kittel, Bach’s last student (between 1748
and texturing and 1750). Was Grützmacher attempting
to restore a lost art of embellishment?
The tendency of many modern cello In more recent times, cellists and
players is to interpret the Suites in an scholars have offered comments and
individual way to suit their perception of questions about the “embellishment
the “mood” of the music at a particular aspect”; for example: “Should one, as a
time. Generally speaking then, their focus rare exception, add something here? Add
is on creating varied readings – with some notes in a text where the composer,
varieties of tempos (including ebb and in general, is so clearly using as few as
flow of pulse), of bowing articulations, possible?” (Anner Bylsma, re Suite 2),
of timbres and dynamics – aiming for a or “it might explain why the cello music
deeply personal emotion in their approach sometimes seems to need completion by
to this musical Holy Grail (as it has another strand” (Malcolm Boyd, re the
deservedly become). Courante in Suite 5), as well as Wolff’s
It is interesting that the 1866 edition general overall reference to the music’s
of the Suites, discovered so fortuitously “simplicity and oddities”. To these I
in 1890 by Pablo Casals in a second-hand would add the possibilities for improvised
music shop in Barcelona, was embellished flourishes at pauses (in the Preludes to
“with chords, ornaments and virtuosic Suites 1, 2 and 4) and filling in the “vast,
flourishes” (Eric Siblin, 2009). The editor, empty starkness” of the beginning of the
Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig Grützmacher Prelude to Suite 5.
justified his reasons for these editorial In this recording I have adopted an
additions as an attempt to recover and approach to pulse and tempo that somewhat
write down what the masters themselves differs from that taken by modern cellists
“could have indicated”. This was possibly – namely, to perform the Preludes metrically
based on the fact that his cello teacher’s free, or part-measured or part-free, in order
pedagogical-ancestry could be traced to underline their historical position
back to the organist Johann Christian as introductory pieces once freely

improvised but structured, and function-
ing as gateways to a collection of dances
which were played measured throughout
as if to accompany dance, with all
repeated sections, including da capo
returns, embellished in the Italian style.
Embellishment with French style
agréments, including the mandatory,
over-dotted cadential trills, has been
added throughout – sometimes notated
in the score, sometimes improvised.
The French agréments are based on
those demonstrated in the table of
ornaments shown in the preface to
Bach’s pedagogical Clavier-Büchlein
vor Wilhelm Friedemann Bach of
1720. Bach had borrowed these from
the more extensive table in Jean-Henri
D’Anglebert’s Pièces de Clavecin, 1689.
The Italian style passaggi (“passage
work”) ornamentation derives from an
extensive and complete study of Bach’s
rich varieties of such throughout his
keyboard works for harpsichord and
organ (including, for example, Doubles
as well as ornamented passage work
in his chorale preludes). There is clear
evidence, which cannot be ignored,
that both these styles of ornamentation
20
(agréments and passaggi) are mandatory
in any performance of Bach’s music and
thus, most pertinently, in these Suites and
the Partita.
So, in these transcriptions the
Italianate passaggi embellishments
are not simply “random”, but carefully
composed and organically motivic (as
were Bach’s passaggi embellishments).
They are intended to be as structurally
interconnected as was notated
composition of the eighteenth century.
This connects with the fact that it was
considered mandatory in Bach’s day for
players to alter and decorate the material
in repeated sections. In these CDs,
the reprises’ Italianate embellishment
has been predicated on certain tempo
rates, which are in themselves based on
historical evidence of the tempo and
mood of the various dance genres then in
current usage. These dance tempos will be
discussed below.
Nonetheless, in both the transcription
and the associated ornamentation of the
reprises, it was helpful to be mindful
of certain general aspects of Bach’s
keyboard invention, such as those already
mentioned above, including: “[his]
unusual, ingenious ideas, far removed
from the usual run, yet spontaneous and
natural” (Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg,
1752); that “he played … in his own
manner, that is, very lightly and with
much art” [i.e. ornamentation] (Jakob
Adlung, 1758); and was “a musician
[who] employed the most hidden secrets
of harmony with the most skilled artistry”
(CPE Bach / Johann Friedrich Agricola,
1750).
As the performer-editor I have
composed a new, parody Prelude to the
flute Partita. Parody was a method of
construction frequently used by Bach,
Handel and their contemporaries. It was
an ancient musical technique which
involved borrowing from one’s own (and
others’) pre-existing music to create a
new piece of music. Thus, the various
sections of the new Prelude consist of
material from Bach’s keyboard works,
interlaced with new material in Bach’s
style. This is by way of further suggesting
that the atypically prelude-less French
Suites, BWV 812–817, might have been
performed with improvised, or pre-
composed preludes – as was considered
the norm in French performance practice
21
of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
The first three sections of this parody
Prelude are borrowed from Bach’s
Toccata in C minor, BWV 911 from the
Andreas Bach Buch, transposed into
G minor, with occasional retexturing
(as its widely-spaced voicings, including
awkwardly tied sustained notes, suggest
it may have been intended for organ).
The motivic French agréments of this
Toccata’s source copy P286 have been
maintained in the performance of the
imitative counterpoint of the Adagio. The
tripartite Allegro section of the Prelude
contains new material interspersed with
further, briefer borrowings from various
Bach keyboard sources. (Can you guess
where they come from?) This Prelude is
thus “a piece put together of borrowed
bits, juggler’s tricks … [but no] street
tunes” (Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg,
1752).
To suggest their quasi-improvisatory
nature, as briefly mentioned above, the
Preludes in the cello Suites are mainly
performed freely, that is both measured
and unmeasured. Only Preludes 3, 6
and the second section of 5 are played
in mostly measured tempos with strong

forward momentum. The other Preludes
– 1, 2, 4 and especially the first section of
5 – ebb and flow in changing motion, as if
improvised, with all pauses embellished
(remembering that both C.P.E. Bach and
Quantz insisted that the pausa generalis
( U ) was the signal for a mandatory pause
followed by an improvised flourish of
variable, but brief, length).
The devising of textures of harmonic
counterpoint and/or homophony for these
keyboard transcriptions of the cello and
flute solos follows a similar approach to
that described in the liner notes to my
transcriptions of the solo violin pieces
(BWV 1001–1006). This has involved:
(1) sharing the original melodies and
newly-invented contrapuntal voicings
across and between the hands;
(2) choosing mid-range and low
tessiturae for the cello transcriptions
and somewhat higher tessiturae for
the flute transcription in order to
somewhat reflect the contrasting
tonal colours of each of the original
instruments;
(3) achieving dynamics by varying
the thickness, the thinness and the
shapings of textures as well as their
22
placement in their overall range; or
(4) (i) using registration colouring in the
eighteenth-century manner – such as
moving from one piece to another, or
(ii) by shifting from one manual to
another within a piece, usually by
phrase and/or by section;
(5) transposition of key: thus, for example,
as the ambitus of the flute Partita sits
in the harpsichord’s least resonant and
least powerful top range – extending
via f ’’’ to a’’’ (pitches not available
on Alastair McAllister’s copy of
the 1728 German harpsichord after
Christian Zell) – it was necessary not
only to transpose the Partita’s key
centre down, but also to rearrange
melodic material so that the upper
range only infrequently extended to
d’’’. Transposition is further discussed
below.
As already mentioned, texturing and
a consideration of the placement of
the material in certain parts of the
harpsichord’s ambitus were important
aspects considered to achieve levels of
dynamics and tonal colourings. That the
two-manual harpsichord of the eighteenth
century was capable of producing
23
dynamics and tonal colourings, was
confirmed by Johann Joachim Quantz:
“… on the harpsichord the manner
of playing is most important.
Thus, on this instrument, passages
marked Piano may be improved
by moderating the touch, and
by decreasing the number of
parts, and those marked Forte by
strengthening the touch, and by
increasing the number of parts in
both hands… On a harpsichord
with two manuals, you have the
additional advantage of being able
to use the upper keyboard for the
Pianissimo…”
He also mentions “the force and emphasis
[Anschlag]” and “the proper weight of
the fingers [maniere de toucher]” to
achieve dynamics. All of this is pertinent
to the transcriptions’ composition and
their performance, as well as to the unique
qualities of the instrument used in this
recording.
Many of the technical problems
awaiting the solo cellist (or flautist) can
be performed with ease and logic by the
harpsichordist whose two hands, on an
instrument with a wider overall gamut
and a more numerous availability of
voicings, effectively annul such hurdles.
Thus, to recapitulate, the aim then was
to make sure that in these transcriptions
there were still many quite difficult
technical and musical challenges for the
harpsichordist (such as found throughout
all Bach’s keyboard works, especially the
Clavier-Übungen I–IV), and to allay any
sense of making the music “easier”. To
remove these aspects would be to deny
the performer the questing struggle of
unshackling barriers to reach the carefully
structured inner grace and charm of the
music which Bach, as always, dedicated:
Soli Deo Gloria.
P erformance order
The grid below shows the arch-shaped
layout of Bach’s original pitches of the
keys of the cello Suites and the flute Partita,
noting the quasi-palindromic pitch pattern
of the cello Suites’ key centres (and their
reversal of modes):
quasi-palindrome of key centres

Suites
1 
2

3 4

5

6
 
Partita
major minor major major minor major minor
 24 25
Following Bach’s own practice in his of-gratitude to Pablo Casals who, years  1 Prelude
Suites
invented
2 3
   with
4 5
  cross-connect
6

Partita
the were, between the preludes and
keyboard quasi-palindrome
and orchestral
of key transcriptions,
centres after discovering the Suites in 1890 (in drama of Suite 5’s Prelude). the concluding jigs, many French
the tonic the above-mentioned musically eccentric
1 pitches 3 of Suites 54, 5, 66 and Partita
the In this re-ordering, the key centres are characteristic pieces and dance

Suites 2
Partita have been
4
  
 transposed to better

edition made by the cellist Friedrich only partially palindromic: tunes, in which the rhythm was
suit the tonal nuances and range of
major minor major major minor major minor
Wilhelm Ludwig Grützmacher), took a palindrome of key centres the most important object. The
the harpsichord. This still produces an further twelve years before finding the composers were therefore obliged to
  
CD 1 CD 2
   CD 3
 
interesting, but not quite palindromic, courage to dare play the music in public make use of a great variety of time,
layout of key-pitches: in c.1901 – but only one Suite (the third). Suite 1 2 3 4 5 6 Partita
measure and rhythm. Bach carried

Suites
1 2 3

4 5 6

Partita Likewise, when he recorded the Suites on Dance tempos this branch of the art also much
    LP records from 1936 onwards, he started farther than any of his predecessors
While it is only sensible in the with only two Suites (the third and the As mentioned above, the passaggi or contemporaries. He tried to
publishing of the scores of this music second, in that order) and only gradually embellishment in the reprise sections make use of every kind of metre to
– whether the solo-line originals or completed the recording over a further of all the bipartite dance movements in diversify, as much as possible, the
the keyboard transcriptions – that they
palindrome of key centres
twelve years: Suites 1 and 6 in 1938, and these Suites and this Partita has been character of his pieces.”
  
be compiled
CD 1
in both
CD 2
  numerical
the 
CD 3
 
then Suites 4 and 5 in 1939. Even then, compositionally predicated entirely on the This commentary, as well as observations
order
Suite
of
1
the
2
manuscript,
3 4
from
5
Suite 6 Partita
these recordings were not released until tempo chosen for each of the seven dance from sources closer to Bach’s lifetime,
1 to Suite 6 (and thus following their 1949 and 1950 – on twelve, 78 RPM genres (and individual dances within makes clear the common-sense and
BWV numbering), there is, however, records on the Victor label. genres) – allemande, courante, sarabande, historical necessity to compose and then
no compulsion either to perform them Inspired and encouraged by his menuet, bourrée, gavotte and gigue – and perform this music with the tempos,
all, in one concert, or in their numerical example, the order of sequence of the based, wherever possible, on comments metres and articulations characteristic of
order. In a public performance (live or Suites and the Partita which has been in relevant historical documents. Forkel each of these well-known, still in common
recorded) they can be re-organised to suit chosen for this three-CD series is as (1802) points out in his Bach biography: usage, dance genres. Why would Bach
a number of different needs or situations: follows: “The composers of Bach’s time have given a dance title to a piece that
for example, the whim or mood of the CD 1: Suites 5 and 4 (so the series had an admirable opportunity was not in the metre characteristic of that
performer, the “drama” and role of the begins with the dramatic, initial to acquire the due and easy genre, and why would it not be played
occasion, and so on. These choices are elaboration of Suite 5’s Prelude); management of the various kinds and articulated at a tempo commonly
indeed also what a listener to a recording CD 2: Suites 1, 3 and 2; of rhythm, by the so-called suites, associated with such a title and which
will often follow. This re-ordering might CD 3: Suite 6 and the flute Partita (the which were then common instead suited its presumably well-known
also reflect a respectful remembrance- opening flourishes of the Partita’s newly- of our sonatas. In these suites there choreography? Even a consideration of
 26
the varieties of tempo within a genre – for
example, a “fast” versus a “slow” courante
– would still require that its dance steps
and movements should be practicable at
variable tempos.
The question of maintaining the
chosen tempo at a steady pace – as if
dancing were taking place – seems not
only logical but also justifiably proven
by the observation of Johann Matthias
Gesner, one of Bach’s Leipzig rectors, that
Bach was endowed “omnibus membris
rhythmicus” [with rhythm in all his
members]. This is confirmed, if somewhat
obliquely, in the following comment
attributed to Bach:
“There is nothing remarkable about
it. All one has to do is hit the right
notes at the right time, and the
instrument plays itself” (Johann
Friedrich Köhler, after 1776,
quoting Bach).
The importance of being able to choose
the correct tempo and then maintain it
steadily throughout the performance of
any music was made clear (and in no
uncertain terms) by Johann Joachim
Quantz:
“… each piece must be played
in the style appropriate to it;
[the performer] must possess
sufficient insight into the nature
and characteristics of each piece,
whether composed … for this
purpose or that.”
Regarding the performance of dance
music, he gave specific and logical reasons
for making a correct choice and then
steadily maintaining it:
“Although accuracy of tempo is
very important in music of all types,
it must be observed most rigorously
in music for the dance… It is easy
… to imagine how unpleasant it
must be for them [the dancers] if
the orchestra plays now slower, now
faster, in the same piece.”
And further:
“Frequently one finds a seemingly
skilful and experienced musician
who hesitates in the time [tempo] or
who hurries too much.”
For this he offers a warning:
“… take care that [such] errors are
not the result of ignorance.”
And later, he continues:
“If a piece is to be effective, it must
not only be played in the tempo
appropriate to it, but also in the
same tempo from beginning to end,
not faster at one place, slower at
another.”
So, for this recording Bach and Quantz,
along with other of their contemporaries
(as cited below) were the guiding
forces of logic regarding tempo and its
steadiness, and the typical mood and
articulation of each dance genre. Thus, as
already mentioned above, the tempos are
somewhat slower and steadier than those
chosen by many modern performers of
this music. The intention of this historical
approach has been to offer listeners a
fresh yet valid alternative interpretation.
After the free-tempo’d, quasi-
improvised outburst of the prelude,
the allemande was the first dance in
the progress of a dance suite. Still, in
the eighteenth century, maintaining
something of its sixteenth-century quality
as “a plain dance of a certain gravity”
(Thoinot Arbeau, 1588), it was described
as “a sentimental and tender dance” (S.
Guillaume, 1768). As “a Proposition from
which the rest of the suite flows” (Johann
Walther, 1708), it presented “the image
of a content or satisfied spirit, which
27
enjoys good order and calm” (Johann
Mattheson, 1739).
These comments above are applicable
to the sound of even the allemande of
Suite 6 (despite the look of its “extreme”
manuscript-notation), but does suggest
that the atypical dotted rhythms ( )
of Suite 5 might benefit from having
more characteristic flowing xs added
to the accompanying textures of the
transcription to smooth out the constant,
dotted figures (which are, in this example,
unusually ubiquitous for an allemande).
The French courante – in the early
eighteenth century, the opening dance
at balls in Germany – was the slowest
of the French court dances. Its character
portrayed gravity and dignity. Described
by Mattheson, Quantz and Jean-Jacques
Rousseau as grave and majestic, its typical
affection was one of “sweet hope and
courage” (Mattheson), “flowing” but “not
rushing [or] gushing” and “with a pulse
beat on each crotchet” (Quantz). Only the
3
courante in Suite 5 is in 2 (which offers
cadential and other internal opportunities
to play hemiola rhythms); all the other 3
courantes in these suites are notated in 4 .
By the eighteenth century – and into
 28
the nineteenth century – the sarabande
(despite its wildly fiery origins) had been
tamed and transformed into a serious
and intense court dance: “Its movement
is quiet and solemn, suggesting Spanish
haughtiness, and its tone is grave
and calm” (Philipp Spitta, 1873). The
reprises in Bach’s keyboard sarabandes
– notably the dance genre he most
favoured – were often composed with
double-style ornamentation and thus
were valuable guides in these keyboard
transcriptions for how, where and when
one might utilise this compositional
technique. In addition, the embellished
sarabandes of the cello Suites do offer the
harpsichordist expressive opportunities,
via the embellishment and the varying
of the registrations (as available on the
double manual Zell harpsichord) to
colour and balance their soulful Affekt.
It is considered that their often described
“mysterious” quality, from Suite 1 onward,
culminates in the fifth sarabande’s
chromatic and melodically disjunct
peregrinations (now further enhanced
in my transcription). Only the sixth
3 3
sarabande is in 2 , all the others are in 4 .
Compared with the Italian giga,
the tempo of the French gigue of the
late seventeenth and early eighteenth
century was a little slower, but still lively
and “cheerful in affection”, like “the
smooth running of a brook” (Mattheson).
In the cello Suites it maintains, with
considerable bravura, its standard position
as the final dance. Three of the cello
3 6
Suites’ gigues are in 8 , two are in 8 ,
12
8
and only one – in Suite 4 – is in . This
last-mentioned gigue also has an unusual,
internal da Capo structure, which produces
an overall structure ||: A :|||: B A :|| .
The situation and usage of the other
three dance genres included in these
Suites do point to a carefully planned
overall architecture for the collection
(despite some scholars referring to a
somewhat “haphazard” structuring). Thus,
in every consecutive pair of Suites, there
are two examples of each of these “other”
dance genres (“andern Galanterien”).
Overall, this produces three pairs of
suites, each pair containing the same
sequence of dance genres. In addition,
within each discrete Suite, there are two
different examples of the “fourth dance”
genre, the first of which “returns” (da
Capo) to complete an internal trio, or
29
triptych, ie. A1 B A2. Thus each Suite
consists of eight pieces (if one includes
the Prelude), three of which are the same
genre and internally interrelated. (This
overall organisation might offer a puzzle
to solve for those curious about Bach’s
purported interest and usage of symbolic
number structures.)
In the eighteenth century, the menuet
was a relaxed and dignified, formal social
dance, which was nevertheless “played
springily [hebend], the crotchets marked
with a rather heavy, but still short, bow-
stroke, with a pulse beat on the [first]
two crotchets” (Quantz). In this set of
transcriptions, the embellishment in
Menuet I da Capo of Suite 2 is treated like
one of the Goldberg Variations, in that
the embellishment is not a decoration of
the original melody, but new and ornate
melody on the harmonic bass. In all the
other da Capo dances, the original melody
is retained – but as a much decorated,
buried melodic template. To enhance the
relaxed nature of these gently springing
menuets, a variety of registrations has
been used to colour and point their
ornamented reprises.
While the French bourrée was
universally described as “gay” (Jean-
Jacques Rousseau, 1768) and “executed
gaily, with a short, light bow stroke;
[in which] a pulse beat falls on each
bar” (Quantz), the German bourrée was
considered “content and self-composed”
(Mattheson). Mattheson’s description of
the bourrée would seem the more likely
option, as a scrambled and somewhat
lively “gaiety” in the tempo would have
been somewhat restricted by the ornate
choreography of the French pas de
bourrée. It is likely that the pairing of
bourrées (of which, as mentioned above,
the first one returned da Capo to make a
triptych), which was common in Bach’s
other compositions, was probably the
source of a “tradition” of patterning
he carried over for the “fourth dance”
triptych in the cello Suites. The bourrées
in Suites 3 and 4 are performed with
Mattheson’s description in mind.
The eighteenthth-century gavotte
(derived from the sixteenth-century
branle) co-existed as both a folk and
courtly dance. As it, like the bourrée,
also required three steps on its first
three crotchet beats, it would thus seem
that, even with a “fast” time signature,

2
(such as or  ), it was played at a
moderate tempo, its liveliness expressed
in its musical shaping and articulation.
While its mood usually evoked “une
gaieté vive” (Jean le Ronde d’Alembert,
1752), Rousseau mentioned that it could
also be “slow and tender”. This variety
of tempos and moods occurs in other
references to its moderate gaiety, or even
to its avoidance of extremes of emotional
expression, and being tender and pleasant.
The descriptions of a gavotte expressing
“triumphant joy” (Mattheson) and
being “almost like a rigaudon but more
moderate in tempo” (Quantz), with shades
of d’Alembert’s “gaieté”, were considered
in choosing what was best suited to the
music of each of the gavottes in Suites 5
and 6.
xux
The compilation of the CD booklet
annotation is indebted to the inspirational
research of many authors, including
the following: Carl Philipp Emanuel
Bach, Johann Nikolaus Forkel, Johann
Joachim Quantz, Hans T. David, Arthur
30
Mendel, John Butt, Werner Breig, Marc
Vanscheeuwijck, Sigiswald Kuijken and
Christoph Wolff. The composition of
the transcriptions was guided most of
all by a detailed study of the complete
harpsichord output of Johann Sebastian
Bach – an undertaking necessary to
become thoroughly steeped in the
miraculous spectrum of Bach’s creativity
throughout his keyboard compositions.
This study took account of some of the
endless wealth of his musical thesaurus
– in particular, his varieties of textures
and their placement across the gamut,
the harmony, counterpoint, melody
(including its voicing and embellishment),
rhythms, metres, aspects of technique and
virtuosity as well as colouring, shaping
and enrichment devices such as essential
graces, articulation, use of manuals, chord
voicing and so on.
“ … the whole universe is music …”
(anon., 1739)
Christian Zell (?1683–1763)
Following an earlier visit to Berlin
to confirm, discuss and examine the
commission he had recommended, Bach
travelled back to Berlin in early March,
1719, to take delivery for the Cöthen
court Capelle of “the great harpsichord
or Flügel with two keyboards” made
by Michael Mietke, the distinguished
instrument maker for the Berlin court.
There is an interesting, possible
connection between Michael Mietke and
Christian Zell, as Krickeberg and Rase
(1987) have suggested that Zell “was
probably a pupil of Michael Mietke”.
Whether Bach knew of Zell, the Hamburg
luthier who was his contemporary, is
quite unknown, but the possible Mietke/
Zell connection presents an interesting, if
fanciful connection with the instrument
used for these recordings.
Certainly, according to Alexander
Pilipczuk (NGD, 2001), the
“Zell instruments were prized
not only for the richness of their
decoration … but above all [my
italics] for their matchless tone. The
interest generated by instruments
of this quality may be gauged from
the increasing frequency of visits by
players and especially makers eager
to examine the 1728 harpsichord.”
31
This instrument is currently housed in
the Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe,
Hamburg.
The instrument used for these
recordings presented a rather special
focus on the German aspect of this
project – and the possible Bach/Mietke/
Zell connection – in the tonal colourings
of its rich varieties and strengths of
sound. Made in 1984 by the distinguished
Australian maker Alastair McAllister,
Melbourne, it is a copy of Christian
Zell’s only surviving double manual
instrument which has a five-octave
compass, EE–e’’’. Maestro McAllister has
offered the following comments about this
instrument:
“There are only three harpsichords
that have survived from the
workshop of Christian Zell:
two singles, and a double dated
1728. The instrument used in this
recording is based on the 1728
double. Along with the surviving
work of the Hass family and of
Johann Harass, Zell’s instruments
represent the zenith of 18th century
German harpsichord making.
Writers in the mid-20th century

noted a degree of individuality
between the products of German
makers such that their instruments
could not reasonably be considered
to form a ‘school’ of building.
This essentially revealed their
inability to come to terms with the
achievements of these makers.
The Zell instruments have
many Italianate characteristics,
both in geometry and building
methods, and these account, in
some measure, for the potency and
clarity of speech which they and
good copies possess. Some modern
builders, world-wide, have re-
evaluated the German achievement
and reached a consensus that
German music sounds at its best on
German instruments.”
As regards the quality and level of
the harpsichord sound reproduced on
these recordings, the aim has been to
retain the integrity of the rich variety
of sounds from this particular, and
unique, instrument and to make the
recorded sound as close as possible to its
strong, “live” sound, as if the listener
were positioned in the curve of the
32
instrument – “for the harpsichord
rumbles and clinks quite loudly in close
proximity” (Quantz).
The rumblings and clinkings include
both the “attack” of the sound (the pluck
of the quill), as well as the “clunk” at
the cessation of the sound (caused when
the felt damper of the jack returning
to its rail curtails the plucked string’s
vibration). These mechanical noises,
which occur naturally and constitute an
integral component of the “voice” of the
instrument, not only colour, but also aid
the articulation and shaping of the music.
The long, clear resonance of the
lower manual’s 8-foot register is used
to enhance the “singing” legato lines in
the slow movements. These melodies
are sometimes accompanied in the left
hand by a drier, but still robust, harp (or
“buff”) register on the upper manual. It
is important not to regard these slow-in-
tempo movements as weak-in-dynamics
movements. They have as much (if not
more) strength, energy and passion as
the movements in faster tempi. Thus, it
is strongly suggested that the volume
level be kept high.
The tuning used by Terry Harper is a
modified version of the system of unequal
temperament devised by Francesco
Antonio Vallotti (1697–1780). This
modified tuning allows each tonality to
sing in its own unique “colour” – where
the interval spaces of melodic pitches and
the harmonies (not being “equal”) are
somewhat different in each key. In this
way C major sounds quite different to
F major or G minor, and so on.
Biography
Winsome Evans is an Honorary Associate
Professor in the Music Department at the
University of Sydney, Australia, where she
has lectured in a broad spectrum of music
history, composition and performance
courses. These have covered Western
classical, traditional and popular styles
ranging from the early mediæval period
through to the present day. The basic
underpinning to every area of her lectures
has been an informed, research-based
focus on historical practices. Her teaching
in various styles of mediæval, renaissance
and, particularly, baroque historical
performance practice and research, has
been seminal in developing the skills of
33
outstanding student musicians, many of
whom have taken up professional careers
in early music, locally and internationally.
Her academic teaching has been
complemented and enhanced by her own
performance, composition and research
activities with the professional ensembles
which she both directs and performs with,
such as – The Renaissance Players
(Australia’s first and longest-standing
professional early music ensemble),
Sydney Baroque, The Baroque Guild and
The Beggar’s Opera. In the first of these,
she has performed on over 30 instruments,
as well as arranging and/or composing, all
its musical repertoire since its inception
in 1966/67.
She has also performed as solo and
continuo harpsichordist with many other
professional ensembles, including the
Sinfonia of Sydney, the Sydney Symphony
Orchestra, Sydney Philharmonia, the
Australia Ensemble, The Seymour
Group, The Leonine Consort, The Song
Company, Young Opera, The Broken
Consort and the Don Burrows – George
Golla Jazz Duo and Quintet. From soon
after its inception and for over 14 years,
she was the regular solo and continuo

harpsichordist (as well as occasional
editor and arranger) with the Australian
Chamber Orchestra (ACO). Within
several of these ensembles, particularly
the ACO, she has, for example, performed
all the Concerti by J.S. Bach for one, two
and three harpsichords and recorded the
complete Brandenburg Concerti (with
the ACO renamed the “Academy of St
James”) for Omega (USA).
She has performed (on many different
instruments) on over 40 LPs and CDs: for
Cherry Pie, Walsingham Classics, ABC
Classics, Rouseabout, Undercover, Viking
Classics (Australia and New Zealand),
Omega, celestial harmonies (USA) and
now Melba Records.
Many other performances, some
including original compositions, have
been made for radio documentaries
(ABC), television (BBC), audio-books
(ABC and Craftsman, UK), plays (Bell
Shakespeare Company), documentary
and feature films (including 27a, IMAX
34
Horses, Travelling North, Looking for Transcribed, arranged, embellished and performed by
Alibrandi and a recent BBC documentary Winsome Evans, bem, oam
on Fromelles), contemporary pop CDs, © 2016
and so on. Her completed, performed
Producer
but not published editions include: four
Winsome Evans
mediæval liturgical dramas, John Gay’s
The Beggar’s Opera and over 2,500 Annotation
pieces in The Renaissance Players’ Winsome Evans © 2016
library (often under the hoydenish, Recorded in the Donald Peart Room, University of Sydney
creative pseudonym Snave Pluckpayres).
Sound Editor
Her transcriptions for harpsichord of Stephen Morley
all J.S. Bach’s solo works, BWV 1001–
1013, have been recorded and published: Assistant Recording Producer
Six Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin Guy Dickerson
(ERP, Germany, 2008, under revision), Mastering Engineer
Six Suites for Solo Violoncello and Don Bartley, Benchmark Mastering
Partita for Solo Flute (in 4 volumes, PRB Harpsichord
Productions, USA, 2015). Alastair McAllister, Melbourne, 1984, after Christian Zell, Hamburg, 1728
In 1980, for her services to music,
Winsome Evans was awarded the British Harpsichord Maintenance and Tuning
Terry Harper
Empire Medal (BEM) in the Queen’s
Honours List, as well as the NSW Jaycees’ Layout and Design
Award; and, in 1985, the Medal of the Bernard Rofe
Order of Australia (OAM). Cover Image
Spiral staircase, Monastery of Santo Domingo de Bonaval,
© 2016, Winsome Evans Santiago de Compostela, Spain © Amparo Garrido
 Dedicated to
Emeritus P rofessor Sir P eter Platt, am
the inspirator

Winsome Evans’ autograph transcription to

Violoncello Suite 5 in D minor, BWV 1011: Prelude