Libro - Johann Sebastian Bach's Art of Fugue Performance Practice Based On German Eighteenth-Century Theory (Ewald Demeyere)

Johann Sebastian Bach’s Art of Fugue
Performance Practice based on German

Eighteenth-Century Theory
Johann Sebastian Bach’s
Art of Fugue
Performance Practice based on German
Eighteenth-Century Theory
EWALD DEMEYERE
Leuven University Press

© 2013 by Leuven University Press / Presses Universitaires de Louvain / Universitaire Pers
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ISBN 978 90 5867 940 6
D / 2013 / 1869 / 14
NUR: 664
Cover: Friedemann
Lay-out: Jurgen Leemans
for Vinciane
6 Bach’s Art of Fugue
C o n t e n t s 7
Contents
Preface 9
Acknowledgements 13
Abbreviations 14
PART ONE 15
1. On Musical Rhetoric 17
2. On Metre 53
3. On Articulation, Fingering, Technique and Gradation of Tone 83
4. On Voice-leading 131
PART TWO 175
1. On Contrapunctus 1 177
APPENDIX 1: Glossary 231

APPENDIX 2: Musical-Rhetorical Figures 235
APPENDIX 3: Open Score Contrapuncti 1-4
Select bibliography 237
Index 247
P r e f a c e 9
Preface
T he Art of Fugue arguably remains the ultimate challenge for the performer of
Baroque keyboard polyphony.1 Besides the intrinsic difficulty of playing its
complex counterpoint with only two hands, the interpretation of BWV 1080 also
confronts the critical keyboard player with many questions related to performance
practice, musical text and music theory, to which fulfilling answers are not easily
found in the specialized literature. After all, the existing studies on the Art of Fugue,
numerous as they may be, generally limit themselves to more objective criteria (gen-
esis, formal concept, harmonic and contrapuntal language, text criticism, etc.),
leaving subjective issues untreated for the most part. The primary and secondary
literature about German eighteenth-century performance practice and music theory,
in its turn, does provide valuable insights in general, which are not however related
specifically to the Art of Fugue.
With this book I attempt to bridge this gulf. Each of the four chapters in the first
part deals with one specific topic, which I consider significant to the Art of Fugue and
which I have applied to it. In fact, due to Bach’s overall reluctance to entrust his views
on music making to paper, a frame of reference for his compositional and perfor-
mance practice has to be obtained almost exclusively from the writings of his col-
leagues and students. The first chapter ‘On Musical Rhetoric’ investigates the extent
to which rhetorical thinking steered German Baroque composition and perfor-
mance practice. While music certainly underwent influence from linguistics, assert-
ing that every musician intentionally and comprehensively based his music making
1. Gustav Leonhardt in his essay The Art of Fugue: Bach’s Last Harpsichord Work – An Argument has proved
convincingly that BWV 1080 was conceived to be performed at the keyboard. Being a ‘feature of
extraordinary importance’, he argued, the Art of Fugue ‘is within the reach of two hands’ (Leonhardt,
1952: 14). A major indication of this keyboard concept, we are rightly told by Leonhardt, is the fact
that Bach actually made ‘several musically unnecessary, even illogical, alterations’ to avoid ‘too
wide stretches’ (ibid.: 14 & 17).
on the precepts of rhetoric seems to be contradicted by a fair number of German

eighteenth-century sources. Even so, it would appear Bach indeed considered, as
did orators, that the persuasion of the audience was of paramount importance for
a musician. As a compositional expression of this concern, the pieces of the Art of
Fugue evidently display, both individually and overall, a compelling and gradually
intensifying form. Furthermore, in addition to drawing the attention to themselves,
the positioning of certain noticeable or unexpected harmonic, contrapuntal, rhyth-
mic or textural elements (that is of what rhetoricians would call figures) arguably
clarify the form as well. The second chapter ‘On Metre’ examines the eighteenth-
century German views on metric organization and how they were integrated into the
performance. Writings from Bach’s time and environment point out that a metre
basically consists of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes, the former being played stronger and
longer than the latter. Although the quality of a note was determined by its position
in the bar, certain circumstances could apparently upset this standard metric hierar-
chy. I also illustrate specifically how the concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes, including
its deviations, can contribute in a major way to an eloquent interpretation of the Art
of Fugue. In chapter three ‘On Articulation, Fingering, Technique and Gradation of
Tone’ I deal with technical aspects of German eighteenth-century keyboard playing
which, as I hope to demonstrate, are relevant or convenient for the performance of
BWV 1080. German keyboard tutors from that time agree on the fact that the playing
style should be slightly detached as a general rule, but that all types of articulation
were nevertheless possible if used appropriately. Furthermore, they set out a finger-
ing system which, in spite of the introduction of new features (longer slurs, thumb-
under fingering), still very much used paired and crossed fingerings – a fingering
system well suited to producing ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes. I will assess the different tes-
timonies about what might have been ‘the Bach technique’ as well. Finally, chapter
four ‘On Voice-leading’ explores eighteenth-century German guidelines on musical
syntax and links them to the voice-leading of the Art of Fugue. From this comparative
study it becomes clear that what could be considered possible syntactic issues in
BWV 1080 actually seem to be in line with a more nuanced formulation of voice-
leading rules from Bach’s time and environment.
With the second part of this book I intend to give a possible rationale for and,
where relevant, musical significance to practical, textual and theoretical issues in the
Preface 11
first four Contrapuncti of the Art of Fugue,2 an aim which can often be achieved by com-
bining the insights from the previous chapters. The discussions of Contrapuncti 1-3
moreover include a detailed assessment of the modifications Bach made to their
manuscript and printed versions.3 (Being an addition to the print, Contrapunctus 4
only exists in that version.) The choice to elaborate on these four pieces was in the
first place a rather pragmatic one, an examination of all the pieces within the Art of
Fugue falling beyond the scope of this book. Nevertheless, I also want to point out
that Contrapuncti 1-4 are arguably amongst the most original examples within the Art
of Fugue of how the structure relates to the musical discourse. While these fugues are
monothematic and do not use any special contrapuntal device to the full extent, Bach
created an intensifying overall form by gradually increasing the contrapuntal or har-
monic complexity, not only in the thematic but also in the non-thematic passages.
Since Bach hardly wrote anything about music, definitive answers to composi-
tional or performing issues within the Art of Fugue clearly do not exist. Instead of
claiming to present any thesis, therefore, this book rather intends to show primarily
how the consideration of German eighteenth-century guidelines often yields valu-
able solutions for these issues, with the sole motivation of achieving as convincing a
performance as possible.
Editorial Note
In order to help the reader of this book, it contains three appendices. In the first one
I explain most of the music-theoretical terms relevant to this study. The second one
contains the definitions of the musical-rhetorical figures used in this book. As for
the third appendix, it reproduces as accurately as possible the first four Contrapuncti
as they occur in the printed version of 1752.
‘Bar 21a’ refers to the first half of bar 21, ‘bar 21b’ to its second half.
2. Notwithstanding that the correct plural of Contrapunctus is Contrapunctus, I use, as did Melchior
Franck in his Contrapuncti Composti (1602), the term Contrapuncti for reasons of clarity.
3. Bach completed a fair copy of an untitled early version of what would be called the Art of Fugue by
about 1742, after which he revised it at least up until 1749. As for the posthumous print of 1751 and
its unaltered re-print of 1752, the work had undergone further changes, including the addition of
new pieces. For more detailed information, see, amongst others, Schulenberg, 1993: 346-350.
Acknowledgements 13
Acknowledgements
I want to thank
•• Vinciane, my wife, to whom this book is dedicated, for having allowed me to spend
so many hours, so many days, so many weeks, so many months writing it, and for
always having supported me during that long period.
•• Elsa and Margot, our daughters, for their understanding that ‘quality time’ was
less frequent than usual because Dad had to work hard ‘on his text’.
•• My parents, Chris and Geert, and my parents-in-law, Madeleine and Pierre, for
their greatly appreciated help with the household.
•• Bart Kuijken, for having been and still being such a source of inspiration.
•• David Yearsley, without whose conceptual advice this book would have looked
quite different.
•• Peter Thomas, for the fruitful exchanges about Bach’s voice-leading.
•• Peter Wollny, for generously sharing his immense musicological knowledge about
Bach.
•• Menno van Delft, Peter Van Heyghen and Jan De Wilde for their efforts in obtain-
ing the literature required for my research.
•• Gerard De Swerts, for generously sharing his immense knowledge about rhetoric.
•• Bruno Blondé and Eugeen Schreurs, for their encouragement.
•• David Burn, for his critical reading of my manuscript.
•• Christopher Cartwright, for his meticulous transformation of my original text into
real English.
•• Korneel Bernolet, for making the musical examples look as beautiful as they do.
•• Veerle De Laet of Leuven University Press, for her indispensable editorial help.
•• All those people who were (somehow) involved in this project but whom I have
forgotten to mention.
Abbreviations
BD Bach-Dokumente – Fremdschriftliche und gedruckte Dokumente zur Lebensgeschichte

Johann Sebastian Bachs 1685-1750, ed. Werner Neumann and Hans-Joachim
Schulze, 4 vols. (Kassel: Bärenreiter (supplement to NBA), 1963-1978).
BG Bach-Gesellschaft, Johann Sebastian Bachs Werke (Leipzig: Bach-Gesellschaft
and Breitkopf & Härtel, 1850-1899).
BJ Bach-Jahrbuch (Leipzig: Neue Bach Gesellschaft).
BP Bach Perspectives (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press).
BWV Bach-Werke-Verzeichnis, ed. Wolfgang Schmieder, Thematisch-systematisches
Verzeichnis der musikalischen Werke von Johann Sebastian Bach, revised and
expanded edition (Wiesbaden: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1990).
DJMT Dutch Journal for Music Theory (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press).
ECM Eighteenth-Century Music (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).
EM Early Music (Oxford: Oxford University Press).
JAMS Journal of the American Musicological Society (Berkeley: University of California
Press on behalf of the American Musicological Society).
JM The Journal of Musicology (Berkeley: University of California Press).
JMT Journal of Music Theory (Durham: Duke University Press).
KB Kritischer Bericht.
MQ The Musical Quarterly (Oxford: Oxford University Press).
MTS Music Theory Spectrum (Berkeley: University of California Press).
NBA Neue Bach-Ausgabe, Johann Sebastian Bach, Neue Ausgabe sämtlicher Werke
(Leipzig and Kassel: Bärenreiter, since 1954).
NBR The New Bach Reader, ed. Hans T. David and Arthur Mendel, revised and
expanded by Christoph Wolff (New York: Norton, 1998).
WTC Das Wohltemperirte Clavier.
Preface 15
PART ONE
Abbreviations 17
1.
On Musical Rhetoric
I n seventeenth-century and eighteenth-century Germany, a considerable number

of theorists elaborated on the similarity which the writing and delivery of a speech
have with the composition and performance of a musical piece.4 By adopting lin-
guistic precepts borrowed from the classical textbooks on rhetoric, their treatises
aimed, principally with an instructional motivation, to codify the craftsmanship of
musical composition from the initial idea (inventio) via the structuring (dispositio) to
the full working-out with all the details (decoratio or elaboratio), and to provide guide-
lines for obtaining as convincing a performance as possible (executio).5
In spite of the multitude of references to rhetoric in German Baroque writings
on music, the extent to which actual composition and performance reflected these
guidelines remains quasi-undocumented, thus leaving it largely a matter for specula-
tion. Yet a rare account by Johann Mattheson, undoubtedly the most ardent defender
of rhetoric in his time, suggests that an intentional and comprehensive application
of rhetoric as a discipline to music might not have been as widely accepted as he
had perhaps wished. After having asserted the validity of the rhetoric-based musical
arrangement (for its specifics, see below), Mattheson expressed his frustration that:
many times the authors might have sooner thought about their death than
about such guidelines, especially musicians.
manches mahl die Verfasser ehender auf ihren Tod, als auf solchen Leitfaden
gedacht haben mögen, absonderlich die Musici.6
4. For a complete survey of all treatises dealing with rhetoric in music, see De Swerts, 1984 and Bartel,
1997.
5. The traditional fourth step in the rhetorical process, memoria, is left untreated by Baroque music
theorists.
6. Mattheson, 1739: 235; my English translation.
At least with regard to one musician, Johann Sebastian Bach, historical information
does allow us, with a fair degree of certainty, to establish this apparent reluctance
not only towards structuring based on rhetorical principles but also towards using
the other divisions of the discipline of rhetoric academically as an aid for music mak-
ing. It would equally, however, be too bold a statement to claim that rhetoric did not
have anything to do with Bach’s teaching, composing or performing. After all, the
link between text and music prevailed more than ever in Lutheran Baroque Germany,
the Lateinschulen emphasizing both rhetoric and music.
With this opening chapter, I intend to demonstrate, by specifying to what extent
each rhetorical division appears to be related to Bach’s music making, that the link
between Bach and rhetoric must have been rather nuanced and delicate. On the
one hand, having substantiated Bach’s practical attitude towards music in general,
I argue that textbook guidelines regarding inventio and dispositio hardly applied to his
compositional method. On the other hand, the concepts of decoratio, with its musi-
cal figures, and of executio, standing for persuasion, are reflected, respectively, in his
works and in what we know about his approach to performance. Moreover, apropos
the Art of Fugue, I will show how certain striking musical gestures, the essence of fig-
ural meaning, not only highlight the instant itself but, due to their particular place-
ment, articulate structure as well – a compositional feature, unobserved until now,
as far as I know, and which I will develop more elaborately in my discussions about
the individual Contrapuncti in part two of this book.
Bach lived in a time undergoing drastic artistic reorientation. Firstly, the skill of
counterpoint, so long venerated, had to give way to a musical language in which
melodic beauty and simplicity were central. Secondly, evolving from an autonomous
approach to the practice of the arts – basically one learned and exercised one craft,
music for instance – the eighteenth-century Enlightenment demanded that an edu-
cated person mastered a wide array of disciplines, of which music was only one of
many, and that he also engaged in theoretical and aesthetic discussions.7 Whereas
Bach did undergo some influence from the new galant style, albeit only to a certain
extent and without abandoning counterpoint in any way, he had, as a hands-on
musician, absolutely no interest or pleasure in theorizing about music. According to
Lorenz Christoph Mizler, a student and admirer of Bach:
7. For more detailed information on musical Enlightenment and its precepts, see, amongst others,
Yearsley, 2002: 93-96.
On Musical Rhetoric 19
Our lately departed Bach did not, it is true, occupy himself with deep theore-
tical speculations on music, but was all the stronger in the practice of the art.
Unser seel. Bach ließ sich zwar nicht in tiefe theoretische Betrachtungen
der Musik ein, war aber desto stärcker in der Ausübung.8
The fact that Bach even as a member of the Korrespondierende Sozietät der Musicalischen
Wissenschaften (Corresponding Society of the Musical Sciences) remained exclusively
a practical musician, gives this statement all the more significance. (Mizler founded
this society in 1738 ‘to enable members to circulate by mail theoretical papers on
various aspects of musical science and to further musical understanding by encour-
aging discussions of these papers by correspondence’.9) Mizler needed all his per-
suasiveness to convince Bach to join, which he eventually did in 1747, but, instead
of writing papers about music, Bach only submitted musical works to the Society.
Of course one could argue that Bach’s membership of the Society perhaps indi-
cated a new interest in theoretical speculations (those written by others at least, since
Bach himself did not write any). In a letter of 13 January 1775 to Johann Sebastian
Bach’s first biographer Johann Nicolaus Forkel, however, Carl Philipp Emanuel
refuted such a supposition, implying thereby not too high an esteem for the Society:
The account of my late father’s life in Mitzler [sic], dearest friend, was
thrown together by the late Agricola and me in Berlin, and Mitzler added
only that part from the words “He joined the Society” to the end. [This addi-
tion] is not worth much. The departed, like myself or any true musician, was
no lover of dry, mathematical stuff.
Meines seeligen Vaters Lebenslauf im Mitzler, liebster Freund, ist vom seeli-
gen Agricola u. mir in Berlin zusamengestoppelt worden, u. Mitzler hat blos
das, was von den Worten: In die Societät angehet, bis ans Ende, dazu gesetzt.
Es ist nicht viel wehrt. Der seelige war, wie ich u. alle eigentlichen Musici,
kein Liebhaber, von trocknem mathematischen Zeuge.10
Sebastian Bach’s down-to-earth attitude to music is further corroborated by the lack

of substantial references to the discipline of rhetoric with regard to his compositional
methodology, performing or teaching in his own (rare) writings and in the accounts
of his students. One of the latter, Johann Adolph Scheibe, actually argued in 1738
8. BD III, no. 666: 89; English translation in NBR, no. 306: 307.

9. George J. Buelow: Mizler von Kolof, Lorenz Christoph, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed
16 October 2011), <http://www.grovemusic.com>.
that Bach had no appreciable interest in or knowledge of rhetoric, from which he

boldly concluded that his former teacher, whom he did praise as a keyboard player
and organist, was a questionable composer:
Since no one can be found, no matter how great he may be, who does not
possess certain deficiencies in his expertise, it is no surprise therefore if
[Bach] is indeed at the keyboard and organ an exceptional artist, but, in the
composition of musical works, commits not inconsiderable errors. … This
great man did not particularly bother about the sciences [the rules ... which,
stemming from rhetoric and poetics, are so necessary in music], which
actually are required of a learned composer.
Weil aber niemand zu finden ist, der in einer Wissenschaft bey seiner
Grösse nicht auch gewisse Mängel besitzen sollte, ... was Wunder! wenn
also [Bach] auf dem Clavier und Orgel zwar ein ausserordentlicher Künstler
ist, in der Composition musicalischer Stücke aber gewisse nicht geringe
Fehler begehet. … Es hat sich dieser grosse Mann nicht sonderlich in den
Wissenschaften [die Regeln …, die aus der Redekunst und Dichtkunst in
der Music doch so nothwendig sind] umgesehen, die eigentlich von einem
gelehrten Componisten erfodert werden.11
Scheibe’s first disapproval of Bach’s musical style – Scheibe started a controversy

in 1737 which lasted for years and which several Bach defenders joined in – actually
describes Bach’s ‘not inconsiderable errors’:
This great man would be the admiration of whole nations if he had more
amenity, if he did not take away the natural element in his pieces by giving
them a turgid and confused style, and if he did not darken their beauty by
an excess of art.
Dieser grosse Mann würde die Bewunderung gantzer Nationen seyn, wenn
er mehr Annehmlichkeit hätte, und wenn er nicht seinen Stücken durch
ein schwülstiges und verworrenes Wesen das Natürliche entzöge, und ihre
Schönheit durch allzugrosse Kunst verdunkelte.12
As an adherent of an enlightened vision of music, Scheibe spoke in favour of melody
over harmony, clarity and naturalness over density and complexity, thus disdaining
learned counterpoint with its intricate devices as:
nothing other than the fruits of a disheartened diligence, of worthless toil,
and of a pedantic spirit.
11. BD II, no. 417: 316; my English translation.

12. BD II, no. 400: 286; NBR, no. 343: 338.
nichts anders, als Früchte eines niedergeschlagenen Fleißes, einer faulen

Mühe und eines pedantischen Geistes.13
That melody, clarity and naturalness should constitute the essential concepts of
musical composition was considered an insight, according to enlightened eigh-
teenth-century Germany, only to be fully comprehended by an educated person, that
is by someone who had a profound knowledge of and correctly applied the ‘sciences’.
Consequently, when someone lacked (or did not want to have) this knowledge, as was
apparently the case for a Musicant – a term for a low-ranked and uneducated practitio-
ner, which Scheibe actually applied to Bach – he could only fail as a composer.
At the same time I will show that certain rhetorical terms or concepts do describe
aspects of Bach’s music-making, thus putting Scheibe’s radical assessment some-
what into perspective. Nevertheless, they represent rather obvious, common-sense
notions, which were universal at the time, and they can hardly be interpreted as
utterances from a genuine rhetorician – an interpretation, as I see it, in line with
what the lecturer of rhetoric at Leipzig University, Johann Abraham Birnbaum, wrote
to support his friend in reaction to Scheibe’s criticism from 1738:
He [Bach] has such perfect knowledge of the parts and merits which the
working-out of a musical piece has in common with rhetoric, that one not
only listens to him with satiating pleasure when he focuses his conversa-
tions on the similarity and correspondences of both [music and rhetoric];
but one also admires their clever application in his works. His insight into
poetry is as good as one can expect from a great composer.
Die Theile und Vortheile, welche die Ausarbeitung eines musikalischen

Stücks mit der Rednerkunst gemein hat, kennet er [Bach] so vollkom-
men, daß man ihn nicht nur mit einem ersättigenden Vergnügen höret,
wenn er seine gründlichen Unterredungen auf die Aehnlichkeit und
Uebereinstimmung beyder lenket; sondern man bewundert auch die
geschickte Anwendung derselben, in seinen Arbeiten. Seine Einsicht in die
Dichtkunst ist so gut, als man sie nur von einem großen Componisten ver-
langen kann.14
Although some scholars have seen Birnbaum’s statement as indisputable proof of

Bach’s full engagement with rhetoric, underlying and steering every aspect of his com-
positional process – thereby strongly refuting Scheibe’s assertion – this deduction is
13. Scheibe, 1745: 98; English translation in Yearsley, 2002: 96.

14. Scheibe, 1745: 997; BD II, no. 441: 352; English translation in Kirkendale, 1980: 133.
clearly a bridge too far.15 After all, we do not read here that musical composition and
rhetorical writing are synonymous, with identical principles and rules, but that they
share parts (though without specifying which ones), to which Birnbaum added that
Bach pointed out ‘the similarity and correspondences of both’ (again, without further
elaboration). We do not read either that Bach’s understanding of linguistics was as
profound as that of a great writer or orator; Birnbaum merely stated that ‘his insight
into poetry is as good as one can expect from a great composer.’
That Bach’s application of linguistics to music must have remained basic is actu-
ally suggested in the first place by the composer himself, who once, on the title page
of the Inventions and Sinfonias (1723), alluded only cursorily to rhetoric and, more
specifically, to its divisions. After having stated his first intention with these compo-
sitions – how to learn to play clearly and cleanly with two [and with three] voices (mit
2 [und mit dreyen] Stimmen reine spielen zu lernen) – he briefly mentioned three successive
phases of music-making as important pedagogical pillars: obtaining a suitable sub-
ject or thematic idea for a composition (gute inventiones … zu bekommen); working out
this ‘invention’ (selbige wohl durchzuführen) and performing in a cantabile style (eine
cantable Art im Spielen zu erlangen).16
If Bach saw more value in the methodology set out in treatises dealing with rheto-
ric than the mere designation of self-evident phases in the process from creation
to performance, we would certainly have found some indication of that perspec-
tive amongst his students’ testimonies. The latter, however, touched upon Bach’s
15. During roughly the last hundred years, much scholarly effort has been devoted to the searching
for (and the claimed finding of) rhetorical influences in Bach’s works. However, when this type of
analytical research does not observe a nuanced and critical attitude, conclusions, albeit possibly
spectacular, can remain questionable. Perhaps the most daring, fanciful assessment with regard to
the issue ‘Bach and Rhetoric’ comes from Ursula Kirkendale. In her article The Source for Bach’s Musical
Offering: The Institutio oratoria of Quintilian, she argues that Bach conceived his Musical Offering
BWV 1079 according to the dispositio set forth by Quintilian (Kirkendale, 1980), a point of view which
has been severely criticised by a number of scholars (see Dreyfus, 1996/1998: 248, footnote 25).
16. The complete title page reads as follows: ‘Upright Instruction wherein the lovers of the clavier, and
especially those desirous of learning, are shown a clear way not [only] (1) to learn to play clearly in
two voices but also, after further progress, (2) to deal correctly and well with three obbligato parts;
furthermore, at the same time not [only] to have good inventiones {ideas} but to develop the same
well and, above all, to arrive at a singing style in playing and at the same time to acquire a strong
foretaste of composition.’ (Auffrichtige Anleitung, Wormit denen Liebhabern des Clavires, besonders aber denen
Lehrbegierigen, eine deütliche Art gezeiget wird, nicht alleine (1) mit 2 Stimmen reine spielen zu lernen, sondern auch
bey weiteren progreßen (2) mit dreyen obligaten Partien richtig und wohl zu verfahren, anbey auch zugleich gute
inventiones nicht alleine zu bekommen, sondern auch selbige wohl durchzuführen, am allermeisten aber eine cantable
Art im spielen zu erlangen, und darneben einen starcken Vorschmack von der Composition zu überkommen.) English
translation in NBR, no. 92: 97-98. For a discussion of the term cantabile, see below.
approach to those steps in an equally academical-restrictive manner, a further indi-

cation that Bach had only a perfunctory interest in textbook rhetoric.
In the same letter to Forkel quoted above, Carl Philipp Emanuel explained what
his father thought about a student’s ability for invention:
As for the invention of ideas, he required this from the beginning, and
anyone who had none he advised to stay away from composition altogether.
With his children as well as with other pupils, he did not begin the study of
composition until he had seen works of theirs in which he detected talent.
Was die Erfindung der Gedancken betrifft, so forderte er gleich anfangs

die Fähigkeit darzu, u. wer sie nicht hatte, dem riethe er, gar von der
Composition wegzubleiben. Mit seinen Kindern u. auch anderen Schülern
fieng er das Compositionsstudium nicht eher an, als bis er vorher Arbeiten
von ihnen gesehen hatte, woraus er ein Genie entdeckte.17
From this account we can deduce that Bach did not appear to consider writings
on inventio indispensable for his composition students. Whereas treatises like
Johann David Heinichen’s Der General-Bass in der Composition (1728) and Mattheson’s
Der vollkommene Capellmeister (1739), both of which Bach must at least have leafed
through,18 elaborately defend the great potential of the so-called loci topici or

18. Bach not only owned a copy of Heinichen’s General-Bass, he also acted as the representative for
that treatise in Leipzig. As regards Mattheson’s Capellmeister, although strictly speaking there is
no historical evidence that Bach possessed a copy, both Gregory Butler and George Stauffer argue
convincingly that he must have read at least some of its chapters. Both authors actually see the
Art of Fugue as Bach’s reply to the challenge set out by Mattheson: ‘With regard to double fugues
with three subjects there is, as far as I know, nothing in print other than my own work, published
under the title Die wolklingende Fingersprache (Parts I and II, 1735 and 1737). Out of modesty I would
not recommend this collection to anyone. Rather I would hope to see something similar brought
forth by the famous Herr Bach in Leipzig, who is a great master of fugue.’ (Von Doppelfugen, mit
dreien Subjecten, ist, so viel man weiß, nichts anders im Kupffer-Druck herausgekommen, als mein eignes Werck,
unter dem Nahmen: Der wolklingenden Fingersprache. Erster und zweiter Theil, 1735, 1737, welches ich, aus
Bescheidenheit niemand anpreisen mag; sondern vielmehr wünschen mögte, etwas dergleichen von den berühmten
Herrn Bach in Leipzig, der ein grosser Fugenmeister ist, ans Licht gestellet zu sehen.) Mattheson, 1739: 441;
English translation in Stauffer, 1983: 364. How could Bach not react to this provocation? The
structural and conceptual resemblances between Die wolklingende Fingersprache and the manuscript
version of the Art of Fugue are too obvious to be simply dismissed as coincidental. For more
detailed information, see Stauffer, 1983: 366-367. Furthermore, Bach applied some of the ‘old’
contrapuntal devices described in the Capellmeister like contrapunto alla diritta, contrapunto sincopato
or contrapunto d’un sol passo in the Art of Fugue. For more detailed information, see Butler, 1983: 295-
305. See also chapter four of the first part of this book for more information about Mattheson’s
opinion on counterpoint in relation to his enlightened musical ideals. It would appear, in fact,
that Mattheson, in spite of his initially ardent opposition to artificiality, sincerely approved of
commonplaces, ‘the tools or sources for coming up with good ideas,’19 none of
Bach’s pupils referred to such textbooks in relation to their composition lessons.
(Heinichen proposed an ars inveniendi for vocal music, that is for music for which a
text formed the starting point of the composition, but not for instrumental music.
Mattheson, on the other hand, dealt with the loci topici both in a vocal and in an
instrumental context.) Moreover, in his preface to the Inventions, Bach actually made
his standpoint quite clear on how he thought his students’ inventive capabilities,
which had to be present already, could be developed further: instead of writing
about musical invention, he simply provided his students with good musical ideas.
Yet Bach’s pragmatic approach to invention should not be considered essen-
tially different from that of those treatises. Though highly pedantic, Mattheson’s
discussion of the loci topici in a purely instrumental polyphonic context comes close
to how any composer would have proceeded instinctively: basically by compiling a
subject from different, to him familiar motifs (Formuln, Wendungen) and by examin-
ing the contrapuntal possibilities of the subject (inversion, permutation, reiteration,
canonic passages).20 With regard to vocal composition, both theorists and compos-
ers, as Bach’s compositions with text abundantly testify, fully agreed that musical
invention, whether or not consciously influenced by rhetoric, should take its inspira-
tion from the meaning of the text. Regarding his father’s approach to church works
(seelige Kirchensachen), Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach specifically confirmed that:
he worked devoutly, governing himself by the content of the text.
er devot u. dem Inhalte gemäß gearbeitet habe.21
(Martin Luther, who decisively determined musical philosophy in Protestant

Germany, stated that ‘the music will bring the text to life’ (Die Noten machen den Text
lebendig),22 a guideline every Lutheran Baroque composer carried in his heart.)
The importance given to Baroque text expression entailed that inventio was inter-
twined, both theoretically and practically, with another rhetorical concept, that of
the figures. Consider the recitative Und siehe da from the St Matthew Passion BWV 244
Bach’s musical reply, calling the Art of Fugue ‘a practical and splendid work’ (ein praktisches und
prächtiges Werk) in his Philologisches Tresespiel (1752); Mattheson, 1752: 98, footnote 3; English
translation in NBR, no. 375: 377).
19. Dreyfus, 1996/1998: 6.
20. Mattheson, 1739: 121-132. See also Dreyfus, 1996/1998: 6-7.
22. Cited from Bartel, 1997: 8, footnote 16; English translation in Bartel, 1997: 8.
(see example 1). This piece, depicting the cataclysmic events following Jesus’s death,
undoubtedly belongs to the most spectacular amongst Bach’s countless examples of
how music can dramatically emphasize text. While a complete explicatory reading of
this recitative would be far beyond the scope of this chapter, I want to pick out some
fragments containing so-called hypotyposis devices, that is compositional tools for
music with text, basically representing illustrative and captivating musical gestures
to underline words of directional motion, affection, action etc.23 (Note that not all the
figures received an affective or illustrative connotation, some of them, like the melodic
embellishments, being merely described from a technical viewpoint.24) For instance,
Bach entrusted the sound of the ripping curtain to the continuo by writing quick,
demisemiquaver scale passages which end, apart from the last one, with a staccato
quaver note (bars 1‑4a). (Rhetoricians might have described the end of these scales as
an apocope, ‘an omitted or shortened final note in one [or more] voices [of a section]
of a composition’.25) We are also told by the Evangelist that the curtain was ripped
from the top to the bottom, which Bach underlined with a descending line starting on
what is usually the highest tenor note a1 and ending on its lowest note c one bar later
(bars 3‑4a), and with a descending, two-octave demisemiquaver scale passage in the
continuo (bar 4a). (The rhetorical designation for these descending motifs would be
catabasis, ‘which expresses descending, lowly, or negative images or affections’.26) As
for the rumbling of the earthquake, it is represented by the written-out tremolos in the
lowest bass register. (In this context, rhetoricians would have named this instrumen-
tal technique with the generic term for descriptive devices, hypotyposis.) A powerful
illustration of how music is able to emphasize, besides environmental phenomena,
human emotion as well, can be found in the setting of the phrase ‘they feared greatly’
(erschraken sie sehr; bars 17b‑18a). Firstly, while the preceding phrase cadences ordinar-
ily in G minor (middle of bar 17), Bach proposed for the word erschraken a completely
out-of-the-context, unexpected dominant seventh chord in last inversion in A flat
major.27 (According to musico-rhetorical theory, this peculiar harmonic progres-
sion functions as a pathopoeia, ‘a musical passage which seeks to arouse a passionate
23. See also Bartel, 1997: 307-311.

24. For more detailed information, see Butt, 1990: 17-24 and Bartel: 1997: 84-89.
25. Bartel, 1997: 201.
26. Ibid.: 214.
27. One could perhaps see this chord as a secondary dominant of the Neapolitan sixth chord, an
analysis, however, which I do not find fully convincing since Bach did not return to G minor,
instead confirming the key of A flat major in the chorus following this recitative.
j Ï Ï ÏJ Ï 2 b ÏJ Ï Ï Ï Ï
c ä ä ä J R R J #Ï ÏR Ïj Ï ÏR J ä
1
& Ï J J
‹
R R
Tenore
Evangelista
bÏ Ï Ï Ï nÏ# Ï
Ï Ï#Ïj ä ¨ÏÏÏÏÏ
Und sie - he da, der Vor -hang im Tem - pel zer - riß in zwei Stück
?c Î ¨ .
Ï
ÏÏJ ä Î Å
Ï Ï Ï .
ÏÏ
Continuo
Organo Ï
h h yg
Ï Ï yfX yfx'''E
ä
3
J Ï Ï Å Ï r r
4
Î ä Ï r j r r
& J J R ÏÏ Ï R Ï Ï Ï Ï
‹ . von o - ben - an
Ï ÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏ
ÏÏÏÏ
bis un -ten - aus. Und die Er - de er -
? J ä Î ¨ . Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏÏÏ
. Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ
igc y y y yfc
Ï yf Ï b ÏR 6 b ÏJ
& bJÏ ™ Ï Ï ä bÏ Î Ï ÏR JÎ Ï Ï R
5
J J J
‹ be - be - te,
R R
?
und die Fel - sen zer - ris - sen, und die
# Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ b Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏnÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ

j'''D h
yf'''E ug'''ED ug'''ED
7 ug'''E n Ï
j j Ï b Ï Ï Ï
& bÏ Ïj Ï ÏR R ä Ï Ï Ï ÏJ J Ï J ÏJ
8
‹ Grä - ber tä - ten sich auf,

J J J
?
und stun - den auf viel Lei - - ber der
ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ#ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏbÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏnÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ
D h Hb'''C
ug'''E
j r r ä j Ïj bÏ
& ÏR bÏR Ï ä j
Ï Ïj Î
9 10
bÏ Ï bú
‹ Hei - li - gen,
Ï J
die da schlie - - - - - - - - - fen, und gin - gen
? bÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏbÏ Ï Ï Ï Î
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #ú Ï
h D yfx'''D Yg'''D yf'''E
ug'''E j'''D h
Ï Ï j nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï
& ÏJ Ï bÏJ Ï Ï #ÏJ J J Ï Ï bÏ ä
Ï Ï
Ï R R R R J
11 12
J R R R R
‹ aus
J J J
? î
den Grä - bern nach sei - ner Auf - er - ste - hung und ka - men in die hei - li - ge
Î Î î
Ï Ï
D
Ï Ï uA
& #Ï ä R ÏR J ÏJ ÏJ ÏJ j r Ï 15 j j r
Ï Ï bÏR ÏJ Ïj ä R ÏR Ï bÏJ ÏJ ÏJ ä Ïr Ïr Ï Ï Ïr
j
Î
13 14
Ï
‹ Stadt
? Î
und er -schie -nen vie - len. A - ber der Haupt -mann und die bei ihm wa - ren und be -wah - re - ten
bÏ Î Ï Ï Ï Î ·
Ï
y Q y
r Ï Ï Ï bÏ r bÏ 17 Ï Ï Ï j bÏ ä j 18 Ï Ï b ÏR b ÏJ bÏ ÏJ ÏJ
y
r
& Ïj Ïj ä #Ï Ï J R R J Ï R J J J Ï Ï J R Î bbb
16
J
‹ Je - sum, da sie sa - hen das Erd - be - ben und was da ge - schah,
?
er - schra -ken sie sehr und spra - chen:
#Ï
Î î î Ï Î bÏ Î ú bbb
D h'''D
yg yfx'''EC
Example 1: Recitative Und siehe da from the St Matthew Passion BWV 244 (Bärenreiter
Verlag (NBA), 1972).
affection through chromaticism or some other means’,28 and its bass interval G‑db as
a saltus duriusculus, literally a rather hard or harsh leap, meaning a dissonant melodic
interval like the diminished or augmented fourth, the diminished or augmented fifth,
the diminished seventh etc. to express an intense affection.29) Secondly, instead of
continuing in the same register, which would have worked perfectly, the tenor’s line
jumps up an octave on the downbeat of bar 18, further underlining and even physi-
cally painting, the terror of the centurion and his men. (The rhetorical term for such
‘a transfer of notes or phrases from their normal placement to a different location’ for
reasons of ‘affective expression’ is hyperbaton.30)
In addition, when a text is not factually present in a composition but is implied
instead, noticeable musical gestures and textures could underline its meaning, a
point convincingly illustrated in the Orgelbüchlein chorale Durch Adams Fall ist ganz
verderbt (Through Adam’s Fall is Totally Corrupted) BWV 637 (see example 2). While
its overall highly chromatic and harmonically complex setting surely symbolizes
depraved human nature, the most remarkable metaphor occurs in the bass, where
Bach brilliantly portrayed the act of falling into ruin with abundant, descending,
mostly diminished sevenths.31
28. Bartel, 1997: 359.

29. Ibid.: 381-382. Strictly speaking, the saltus duriusculus, and the closely related passus duriusculus or
‘rather harsh step or melodic line’, do not belong to the rhetorical figures, having a purely musical
origin. According to genuine rhetoric, however, both of them also answer to the designation of
pathopoeia. See also De Swerts, 1984 (vol. 3/III): 1651-1654; De Swerts, 1984 (vol. 3/IV): 1813 and
Bartel, 1997: 357.
30. Bartel, 1997: 301.
31. See also Schweitzer: 1911/1966 (vol. 2), 56; Williams: 1980, 87-89 and De Swerts: 1984 (vol. 3/IV),
1816-1822.
U
& c Îä Ï Ï#ÏÏ ÏnÏ
1 2
ÏÏ #Ï Ï#ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï nÏ ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï#ÏÏ ÏnÏ
#Ï #Ï Ï Ï
Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï n Ï ÏbÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï
?c Î ä ÅR #Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï
{ Ï
nÏ bÏ
?c î ä J #Ï ä J #Ï ä Ï Î
#Ï Ï Ï
1.
U 2.
U
& ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï ú b Ï ú Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï Ï#Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ™ Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï ä ÅbÏR
3 4 5
Ï Ï Ï
#Ï Ï
™
™
Ï
Ï
? Ï nÏ Ï#ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï # Ï Ï Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï b Ï n Ï
{
? ä ÏJ ä ÏJ ä bÏ Î
™
™™ ä bÏ Î
Ï #Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ
U
& ÏÏ ÏbÏ Ï™
Ï bÏnÏÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ
6 7 8
Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï ÏnÏ ÏÏ #Ï Ï#ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï # Ï nÏ ÏÏ Ï Ï

Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï
Ï™ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï # Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï
? nÏ b Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï
Ï ä ÅR Ï
{ n
? ä J Ï Ï
ä ÏJ nÏ ä Ï Î
n Ï
ä J #Ï
bÏ
ä J #Ï
Ï Ï Ï
U
nÏ
9 10
& Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï
Ï™ Ï nÏÏ Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï bÏÏ Ï Ï
#Ï Ï Ï
Ï Ï™ b Ï Ï bÏ Ï
? Ï ™ n Ï Ï bÏ Ï Ï #Ï #Ï Ï nÏ n Ï # Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï nÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ
{
? ä Ï Î ä Ï
J bÏ ä nÏ
j
#Ï Ï Ï #Ï
U Ï U
& Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï
11 12 13
Ï Ï n Ï
ä Å ÏÏÏ #Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï ÏnÏ Ï J Ï #Ï Ï Ï # Ï ÏÏ
R
U
Ï Ï Ï
? ÏÏ Ï#ÏÏ ÏÏbÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï Ï ÏbÏ nÏ
Ï
n Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï# Ï Ï Ï
{ Ï Ï Ï
Ï
? ä bÏ Î î ä #Ï nÏ #Ï #Ï
J #Ï Ï J Ï Ï
u
Example 2: Durch Adams Fall ist ganz verderbt BWV 637.

Text expression, however, was apparently not the sole justification for using uncom-
mon decorative elements; otherwise they would not have occurred in Bach’s purely
instrumental music, that is music without any kind of programmatic influence.
Though undocumented, I cannot see any other reason for their presence than
that they were intended to make the performance more enthralling. Compare, for
instance, the original and what would have been a more regular version of the open-
ing bars of the Trio Sonata in C minor BWV 526. Instead of proposing this piece’s
initial idea in a register-wise uniform manner (see example 3b), Bach opted to write
the motif starting on the second crotchet extending to and including the first note of
the middle of the bar an octave lower (see example 3a), a textural irregularity creating
{
a strong contrast in the musical discourse.
bb C Ï
1
Ï mÏ Ï 2 Ï Ï mÏ Ï Ï
3
& b
Ï ÏÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏÏ Ï
b Ï Ï mÏ Ï Ï Ï mÏ nÏ Ï
&b b C
Ïn Ï Ï Ï Ï n Ïn Ï Ï Ï Ï J
Ï Ï Î
? bb C Ï Î î î Ï
b Ï
Example 3a: Vivave from the Trio Sonata 2 in C minor BWV 526, bars 1-3a, original
{
version (with parenthesis/hyperbaton).
bCÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï mÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï mÏ Ï Ï
1 2 3
b
& b
b Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï mÏ Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï mÏ Ï Ï
&b b C nÏ J
?bC ÏÎ Ï Ï Î
bb î Ï î Ï
Example 3b: Vivave from the Trio Sonata 2 in C minor BWV 526, bars 1-3a, alternative
version (without parenthesis/hyperbaton).
(Rhetoricians would presumably have designated those motifs all’ottava bassa with
the term parenthesis, ‘a musical representation of parentheses in the text’,32 which, at
the same time, answer to the description of a hyperbaton as well.)
32. Bartel, 1997: 348.

The impact of noticeable or deviating aspects of the decoratio could even go

beyond the stir of the moment itself, additionally clarifying the dispositio during per-
{
formance. Consider example 4.
Ï Î #Ï Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ
15 16 17
&b C #ú
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
? b C Ïú Ï Ï Ï Ïú Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏ
#Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ï ÏÏÏ Ï
{
µ
& b ÏÏ ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï w Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï w Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï
18 19 20 21
#Ï #Ï
? b w Ï #Ï Ï #ÏÏ Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
Example 4: Contrapunctus 8, bars 15-21a.
After the opening exposition of Contrapunctus 8 from the Art of Fugue, an episode starts
in bar 15 which is based, among others things, on a motif occurring for the first time
in the middle voice of that same bar, consisting of a suspirans, a three-note figure
starting on the second of four quarter divisions of a beat, followed by two descend-
ing thirds. In the upper voice of bar 20, though, Bach altered this motif by writing
the last quaver an octave higher than expected. This decoratio, surprising in itself,
moreover occurs at a strategic spot, neatly announcing the half-cadence at the end of
the episode.33 (According to rhetoric, such an adaptation works as a paronomasia – ‘a
33. The argument that Bach wrote a d2 instead of a d1 in the upper voice to avoid interference with the
middle voice, which becomes a suspension on the downbeat of bar 21, does not stand up. On many
{
occasions Bach did write this type of unison, voice-leading which has the secondary advantage that
the long note is restruck just before becoming dissonant (see, for instance, example 5).
Ï Ï
Ïú Ï Ï Î Ï
108 109
& b c wÏ Ï #Ï Ï Ï
Ï bÏ Ï Ïw # Ï nÏ ú
?bc w Ï
Example 5: Contrapunctus 14, bars 108-109.

repetition of a musical passage, with certain additions or alterations, for the sake of
greater emphasis’34 – in this case achieved with a hyperbaton.)
Although historical evidence for Bach’s theoretical engagement with the musi-
cal-rhetorical figures does not exist – as a result of which it remains improbable that
Bach depended on any kind of textbook inventory of figures for composition – the
above examples do suggest figurative thinking as an important part of his musical
language to ensure a captivating discourse in pieces whether or not inspired by a
text. With regard to Bach analysis, therefore, I consider, though without the slightest
motivation to claim them to be actual proof of Bach’s rhetorically-based approach to
music, that the labelling of the rhetorical figures is practical and convenient. After
all, they allow a concise description of striking features of the decoratio, the main
reason for their existence. As Dietrich Bartel correctly asserts:
Fundamental to this concept [of musica poetica, that is the typical German
Baroque concept of setting vividly a text to music which also profoundly
influenced instrumental composition] was the attempt to identify and
define existing musical phenomena and devices with terminology borrowed
from rhetoric. It would be misleading to explain these developments by
maintaining that musica poetica sought out rhetorical methods and devices
and then constructed analogous musical forms.35
That the application of rhetorical principles to music generally occurred in an adap-

tive instead of in an analogous manner, becomes particularly clear from the musica
poetica view on dispositio. In the roughly 200 years before Bach’s death, when theorists
devoted themselves to pointing out how rhetoric can assist the musician, guidelines
for arrangement were kept brief, flexible and practical, since predestined, elaborate
formal schemes would obviously contradict the structural diversity of actual music.
In a highly similar manner, pre-eighteenth-century Germany discussions on musi-
cal structure proposed a rudimentary, threefold dispositio, basically consisting of
an introduction, a middle part and a conclusion. While it is true that this structure
reflects the prothesis-pistis-epilogos division of the Greek Homo Universalis Aristotle,
34. Bartel, 1997: 350.

35. Ibid.: 57-58.
musica poetica theorists of that period left the middle section completely open, only
referring to further subdividing by an unspecified number of phrases separated from
each other by cadences.36 In Bach’s time and environment, if treated at all, rhetori-
cal expressions on structure hardly even existed, and when they did, they mostly
remained succinct and plain, excluding any kind of formal template.
As a matter of fact, of all the theorists dealing with musical rhetoric, only
Mattheson proposed a systematic, detailed application of linguistic organization
to music, using, instead of the more concise Aristotelian threefold model, the
more elaborate – and thus less flexible – Roman sixfold dispositio. In the chapter on
arrangement in his Kern melodischer Wissenschaft (1737), which was copied almost liter-
ally into Der vollkommene Capellmeister (1739), Mattheson argued that:
Our musical disposition is different from the rhetorical arrangement of a
mere speech only in theme, subject or object: hence it observes those six
parts which are prescribed [usually] to an orator, namely the introduction,
report, discourse, corroboration, confutation, and conclusion. [usually
known as] Exordium, Narratio, Propositio, Confirmatio, Confutatio & Peroratio.
Unsre musicalische Disposition ist von der rhetorischen Einrichtung einer

blossen Rede nur allein in dem Vorwurff, Gegenstande oder Objecto unter-
schieden: dannenhero hat sie eben diejenigen sechs Stücke zu beobachten,
die einem Redner [sonst] vorgeschrieben werden, nemlich den Eingang,
Bericht, Antrag, die Bekräfftigung, Wiederlegung und den Schluß. [sonst
genannt:] Exordium, Narratio, Propositio, Confirmatio, Confutatio & Peroratio.37
Yet because Mattheson’s discussion on musical-rhetorical structure was an isolated

case in music theory formulated only towards the end of the Baroque period, its
underlying principles could not have been much of an influence on Baroque compo-
sition practice. A number of additional arguments further support my point of view
that Roman dispositio hardly ever served as a deliberate formal mould, both overall
and, more specifically, for Bach. Firstly, Mattheson himself recognized a common
36. The first theorist who proposed this rhetorically influenced yet genuinely musical arrangement,
was Gallus Dressler (Dressler, 1563/2007: 152-155 & 172-187). While his Praecepta musicae poëticae
was never published until the twentieth century, it would appear that its musically sane dispositio
proved influential, directly or indirectly, to a number of seventeenth-century theorists who touched
upon musical arrangement, such as Joachim Burmeister (Burmeister, 1606: 72-73), Johannes
Lippius (Lippius, 1612: chap. De Compositione Ornata), Johann Andreas Herbst (Herbst, 1643: 81-88)
and Daniel Speer (Speer, 1697: 279-281 & 284).
37. Mattheson, 1737: 128 & 1739: 235 (words between brackets from Mattheson, 1737: 128); English
translation in Harriss, 1981: 470 (words between brackets: my English translation).
reluctance amongst composers towards such an approach (see above). Secondly, if

the application of the Roman dispositio to music went far beyond a personal, ana-
lytical view at that moment, surely Mattheson would have recommended it earlier in
his career. In his Neu-Eröffnete Orchestre (1713), however, he did not even mention the
notion of, let alone elaborate on, dispositio as an individual phase in the composing
process. Echoing the same three steps of music-making as in Bach’s preface to the
Inventions, Mattheson merely stated that:
For the rest [besides harmonic and contrapuntal skills], three things belong
to a composition: Invention, Elaboration and Execution, which display a
rather close relationship with oratory or rhetoric.
Es gehören sonst zu einer Composition dreyerley: Inventio, (Die Erfindung)

Elaboratio, (Die Ausarbeitung) Excecutio [sic], (die Ausführung oder
Aufführung) welches eine ziemliche nahe Verwandschafft mit der Oratorie
oder Rhetorique (Rede-Kunst) an den Tag leget.38
Thirdly, that Mizler showed himself to be quite sceptical in a review of Kern with regard
to Mattheson’s study of musical dispositio, underlines the very unusualness of that dis-
positio, and strongly suggests that it did not belong to the latter’s composition method
– after all, Mizler had been a pupil of Bach, for that matter. Not only did he – rightly –
point out that the rhetorical-structural analysis of an aria by Benedetto Marcello with
which Mattheson intended to illustrate the correctness and the universality of his view
38. Mattheson, 1713: 104; my English translation. Note that Laurence Dreyfus in his book Bach and the
Patterns of Invention erroneously claims that this quotation is an excerpt from Tractatus compositionis
augmentatus (c1657) written by the seventeenth-century composer and theorist Christoph Bernhard,
a student of Heinrich Schütz (Dreyfus, 1996/1998: 3 & 5-6). This mistake stems from the fact that,
obviously without verifying the original source, Dreyfus misinterpreted the following phrase
from Wulf Arlt’s article Zur Handhabung der “inventio” in der deutschen Musiklehre des frühen achtzehnten
Jahrhunderts: ‘In between the precepts tacitly taken over from Bernhard, a paragraph has been
inserted in the Neu-eröffnete Orchestre, which starts with the general assessment regarding the close
“relationship” between composition and oratory: “For the rest, there belong three things to
a composition: Invention, Elaboration and Execution, which display a rather close relationship
with oratory or rhetoric.”’ (Zwischen die still-schweigend übernommenen Bestimmungen Bernhards ist
im Neu-eröffneten Orchestre ein Abschnitt eingefügt, der mit einer generellen Feststellung über die enge
“Verwandtschaft” zwischen Komposition und Redekunst beginnt: “Es gehören sonst zu einer Composition dreyerly:
Inventio, (Die Erfindung) Elaboratio, (Die Ausarbeitung) Executio, (die Ausführung oder Aufführung) welches eine
ziemliche nahe Verwandschafft mit der Oratorie oder Rhetorique (Rede-Kunst) an den Tag leget”.) Arlt, 1983:
373-374; my English translation. Arlt actually explains that Mattheson virtually copied the first
two chapters from Bernhard’s treatise into the first chapter of the second part of his Neu-eröffnete
Orchestre, merely making some small alterations and additions, the above quotation thus being one
of the Mattheson’s additions.
did not fit the music, but Mizler also had serious reservations about whether the com-
poser ever considered such a structure whilst composing:
The author further illustrates that, in a well-worked-out piece, as in a rhe-

torical oration, as well as in a well-ordered oration, Exordium, ... Narratio, ...
Propositio, ... Confutatio, ... Confirmatio, ... Peroratio ... most likely must be avai-
lable. He clarifies this through an aria by the famous Marcello. I do not know
if the admirable Marcello would wish to apply the six parts of an oration here,
in so much as it is not at all necessary to apply everything in [all sections]
of a piece. Rather, it is highly likely that the incomparable composer of this
aria, while writing it, did not think about exordium, narratio, confutatio, confir-
matio, or the order of how the said parts should follow upon one another. The
matter thus seems forced, because Herr Mattheson uses one and the same
phrase for the introduction, the narration, and the proposition.
Der Herr Verfasser zeiget ferner gar wahrscheinlich, daß in einem wohl
ausgearbeitetem Stücke, als einer musikalischen Rede, so wohl, als in
einer ordertlichen Rede Exordium, ... Narratio, ... Propositio, ... Confutatio,
... Confirmatio, ... Peroratio ... Vorhanden seyn müssen. Er erläutert solches
durch eine Arie von dem berühmten Marcello. Ich weiß aber nicht ob der
vortreffliche Marcello daselbst die erwähnte sechs Theile einer Rede anbrin-
gen wollen, indem es auch gar nicht nöthig ist, alles in allen Theilen eines
Stückes anzubringen. Es ist vielmehr höchstwahrscheinlich, daß der unver-
gleichliche Verfasser besagter Arie, weder an exordium, narrationem, confuta-
tionem, confirmationem, noch an die Ordnung, wie besagte Theile nach einan-
der folgen sollen, gedacht habe, wie er sie verfertiget. Die Sache scheinet
auch daher gezwungen zu seyn, weil Herr Mattheson einen und denselben
Satz zum Eingang, Erzehlung und Vortrag machet.39
Fourthly, while maintaining his criticism that Mattheson should have illustrated his
formal theory more elaborately, Mizler reviewed the discussion on structure from Der
vollkommene Capellmeister – which was an almost literal reproduction of that in Kern –
more positively, indeed seeing benefit in using its principles during composition.
His explicit statement, however, that this approach was new, clearly denies a general
acceptance of the Roman dispositio as a compositional aid during the Baroque era:
The author gives only one aria by the famous Marcello as an example, and
wants to show how the six parts in question are contained in it. For that
39. Mizler, 1738: 38-39. English translation of the first two sentences is mine; English translation of
the last three sentences in Bonds, 1991: 87. Bonds translates in allen Theilen eines Stückes by ‘in every
section of a piece’.
reason I have already revealed my thoughts ..., but I do not want to deny that
this newly proposed guide could not lead to order and good ideas. Music is
an oration in notes and seeks to move listeners just as an orator does. Why,
then, could it not be possible to apply the rules of oratory to music? But
understanding and wit are required if no school-like tricks and pedantry are
to come out of this.
Der Herr Verfasser gibt nun mit einer Arie von dem berühmten Marcello
ein Exempel, und will zeigen wie besagte sechs Stücke darin stecken. Ich
habe deswegen meine Gedanken schon ... eröfnet, bin aber gar nicht in
Abrede, daß dieser neu angegebene Leitfaden nicht auf Ordnung und gute
Gedanken führen könne. Die Musik ist eine Klangrede, und sucht wie der
Redner seine Zuhörer zu bewegen; Warum sollte man denn auch bey der
Musik die Regeln der Redekunst nicht anbringen können? Es gehört aber
Verstand und Witz darzu, daß kein Schulfüchserey und pedantisches Wesen
herauskömmt.40
Fifthly, in a letter highly acclaiming Mattheson’s Kern, Scheibe specifically showered

praise on its view of musical dispositio as the previously missing tool for uneducated
Musicanten – amongst whom, as we saw above, he included Bach – enabling them
finally to structure compositions decently and, moreover, to obtain an enlightened
writing style:
Who would have thought that one comes across, in the assemblage of
the melodies, all the small and large sections and incisions [segments]
which one can observe in a well-ordered oration? Indeed there will be few
Musicanten who have just once allowed themselves to dream that it was
necessary to apply such caution to the arrangement of a musical oration. I
admit that [Mattheson] has thereby rendered the act of composing a melody
such an important service, and has shown the simple-minded by means of
elucidating these incisions such a way, that it not only leads in the easiest
manner to a required arrangement, but that it is also an undoubted means
to write clearly, fluently and naturally altogether.
Wer hätte dencken sollen, daß man, in der Zusammenfügung der Melodien,
alle die kleinen und grossen Abtheilungen und Einschnitte antrifft, die man
in einer ordentlichen Rede zu beobachten hat? Gewiß! es werden wenig
Musicanten seyn, die sich nur einmahl haben träumen lassen, daß eine
so nothwendige Vorsicht in der Einrichtung einer Klang-Rede anzuwen-
den ist. Ich gestehe, Ew. Hoch-Edl. haben dadurch der Verfertigung einer
Melodie einen so wichtigen Dienst gethan, und den Einfältigen, durch die
40. Mizler, 1742: 104-105. English translation of the first two sentences is mine; English translation of
the last three sentences in Bonds, 1991: 89.
Erläuterung dieser Einschnitte, einen solchen Weg gewiesen, der sie nicht
nur auf die leichteste Art zu einer nöthigen Ordnung führet; sondern der
auch auch ein ungezweifelts Mittel ist, deutlich, fliessend, und überhaupt
natürlich zu schreiben.41
Sixthly, if Bach approved of and used the Roman dispositio as a musical template –
even if that was only after having come into contact with Mattheson’s view on struc-
ture – or, for that matter, any other kind of rhetorically inspired structuring, we may
assume that Johann Philipp Kirnberger, who considered it his duty to commit the
oral teachings of Bach to paper,42 would have mentioned this in at least one of his
numerous writings. The only linguistic concept he applied to musical structure,
though, was that of phrase and sentence, an obvious and widespread analogy:
In speech one comprehends the meaning only at the end of a sentence and is
more or less satisfied by it depending on whether this meaning establishes
a more or less complete statement. The same is true in music. Not until a
succession of connected notes reaches a point of rest at which the ear is
somewhat satisfied does it comprehend these notes as a small unit; before
this, the ear perceives no meaning and is anxious to understand what this
succession of notes really wants to say. However, if a noticeable break does
occur after a moderately long succession of connected notes, which provi-
des the ear with a small rest point and concludes the meaning of the phrase,
then the ear combines all these notes into a comprehensible unit.
This break or rest point can be achieved either by a complete cadence or
simply by a melodic close with a restful harmony, without a close in the bass.
In the first case, we have a complete musical statement that is equivalent to a
full sentence in speech, after which a period is placed. But in the other case,
41. Scheibe, 1738: 13; my English translation.

42. Kirnberger claimed that his theoretical works reflect the view on music theory, composition and
performance practice of Bach: ‘His [Bach’s teaching] method is the best, for he proceeds steadily,
step by step, from the easiest to the most difficult, and as a result even the step to the fugue has
only the difficulty of passing from one step to the next. On this ground I hold the method of Johann
Sebastian Bach to be the best and only one. It is to be regretted that this great man never wrote
anything theoretical about music, and that his teachings have reached posterity only through his
pupils. I have sought to reduce the method of the late Joh. Seb. Bach to principles, and to lay his
teachings before the world to the best of my powers, in my “Art of Pure Writing.”’ (Seine Methode ist
die beste, denn er geht durchgängig Schritt vor Schritt vom leichtesten bis zum schwersten über, eben dadurch ist
der Schritt zur Fuge selbst nicht schwerer, als ein Uebergang zum andern. Aus diesem Grunde halte ich die Johann
Sebastian Bachsche Methode für die einzige und beste. Es ist zu bedauren, daß dieser große Mann über die Musik
nie etwas theoretisches geschrieben hat, und seine Lehren nur durch seine Schüler auf die Nachwelt gekommen sind.
Ich habe die Methode des sel. Joh. Seb. Bach auf Grundsätze zurück zu führen und seine Lehren nach dem Maaße
meiner Kräfte der Welt, in meiner Kunst des reinen Satzes, vor Augen zu legen gesuchet.) BD III, no. 867: 362;
English translation in NBR, no. 314: 320.
we have a phrase that is indeed comprehensible, yet after which another or

several more phrases are expected to complete the meaning of the period.
Wie man in der Rede erst am Ende eines Satzes den Sinn desselben gefaßt
hat und dadurch nun mehr oder weniger befriediget ist, nachdem dieser
Sinn eine mehr oder weniger vollständige Rede ausmacht; so ist es auch
in der Musik. Ehe nicht in einer Folge von zusammenhangenden Tönen
ein Ruhepunkt kommt, auf welchem das Gehör einigermaaßen befriediget
wird, und nun diese Töne auf einmal, als ein kleines Ganzes zusammen
faßt, hat es auch keinen Sinn, und eilet um zu vernehmen, was eigentlich
diese auf einander folgende Töne sagen wollen. Kommt aber nach einer
nicht gar zu langen Folge zusammenhangender Töne ein merklicher Abfall,
der dem Gehör eine kleine Ruhe verstattet und den Sinn des Satzes schließt,
so vereiniget das Ohr alle diese Töne in einen faßlichen Satz zusammen.
Dieser Abfall, oder Ruhepunkt, kann entweder durch eine völlige
Cadenz, oder auch blos durch eine melodische Clausel mit einer beruhigen-
den Harmonie, ohne Schluß in dem Basse, bewürkt werden. Im ersten Fall
hat man einen ganzen vollständigen musicalischen Satz, der in dem Gesang
das ist, was eine ganze Periode in der Rede, nach welcher man einen Punkt
setzet; im andern Fall aber hat man einen zwar verständlichen Satz, nach
welchem man aber nothwendig noch einen oder mehr andre erwartet, um
den Sinn der Periode vollständig zu machen.43
Finally, Forkel, although himself an enthusiastic defender of musical rhetoric, did not
link any kind of dispositio to Sebastian’s composition method either. In fact, he argued
that the intentional application of rhetorical precepts to music and music theory had
always been too limited and partial, and that only towards the end of the eighteenth
century could a coherent musical rhetoric eventually be adopted by actual music:
This musical rhetoric, although undeniably representing the higher and
authentic theory of music, has hardly been known until now by that name.
We have received from some of our best composers such beautiful musical
orations, if I may express myself thus, so that that is why it must also be
easy, one would believe, for thinking artists to take away at least general
rhetorical precepts from such examples, yet until now, however, little or
nothing has happened in such an important matter. If one must exclude
some small hints about that, which have been given in some, though very
sparse, writings, these hints do not succeed by a long chalk in filling up
such a considerable hole in music theory, since they are only scattered
hints, without any coherence. From this one sees that while a rhetorical
link in the parts of a musical piece has been felt, the grounds for the same,
43. Kirnberger, 1776: 138; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 404-405.

however, could not be found or indicated. Mattheson was also in this mat-
ter the first ... among the Germans, who, in the chapter on melody of his
Vollkommener Capellmeister, delivered many comments relevant here. In his
day, however, or rather at the time when Der vollkommener Capellmeister was
published, music was not yet at the stage from which a coherent musical
rhetoric could be abstracted.
Diese musikalische Rhetorik, ob sie gleich unläugbar die höhere und eigent-
liche Theorie der Musik ausmacht, ist doch bis jezt noch kaum dem Namen
nach bekannt. So schöne musikalische Reden, wenn ich mich so ausdrücken
darf, wir auch von einigen unserer besten Componisten erhalten haben, so
leicht es auch daher, wie man glauben sollte, für denkende Künstler gewor-
den seyn müßte, von solchen Mustern wenigstens allgemeine rhetorische
Vorschriften abzuziehen, so ist doch bis jezt in einem so wichtigen Theile
wenig oder nichts geschehen. Wenn man auch einige kleine Winke ausneh-
men muß, die in einigen, wiewol sehr wenigen Schriften, davon gegeben
worden, so können sie doch eine so beträchtliche Lücke in der musikalischen
Theorie noch lange nicht ausfüllen; denn es sind blos einzelne Winke, ohne
allen Zusammenhang. Man sieht daraus, daß man zwar eine rhetorische
Verbindung in den Theilen eines Tonstücks gefühlt habe, aber noch nicht
im Stande war, die Gründe derselben zu finden und anzugeben. Mattheson
ist auch hierin ... unter den Deutschen der erste gewesen, der in seinem voll-
kommenen Capellmeister im Capitel von der Melodie, viele hierher gehörige
Bemerkungen geliefert hat. Allein, zu seiner Zeit, oder vielmehr in der Zeit,
in welcher der vollkommener Capellmeister erschien, war die Musik noch
nicht von der Beschaffenheit, daß sich eine zusammenhängende musikali-
sche Rhetorik aus ihr hätte abstrahiren lassen.44
While the above survey illustrates how minimally oratory seems to have influenced
German eighteenth-century musical arrangement as a whole, the fact that rhetorical
jargon hardly ever occurred in treatises dealing with the genre of fugal composi-
tion, which was paramount at the time, even strengthens this assessment. As far as
I know, the only German document on fugue from that period explicitly containing
terms from linguistic structure is a letter written to Mattheson on 28 July 1718 by
Johann Christoph Schmidt, Kapellmeister in Dresden, which the former published
in the second volume of his Critica Musica. Taking part in a discussion about whether
or not fugal writing could respect the clarity of the text in vocal music, Schmidt prin-
cipally disagreed with Mattheson, taking a positive – albeit nuanced – viewpoint in
this matter, for which he relied on the authority of rhetoric:
44. Forkel, 1788: 37; my English translation.

for in treating a fugue, I must also take my craft from the Oratory just as [is
done] in the modern style, even though harmony [Harmonia] dominates [a
fugue] more than words [Oratio] do. For the dux is the Propositio; comes the
Aetiologia; Oppositum is the varied inversion of the fugue; Similia give the alte-
red figures of the Proposition according to their value; Exempla can refer to the
fugal theme [propositiones Fugae] [stated] on other notes, with augmenta-
tion and diminution of the subject; Confirmatio would be when I “canonize”
on the subjects; and Conclusio, when I allow the subject to be heard near the
[final] cadence in imitation above a pedal point; not to mention other arti-
fices which can be introduced and observed in statements of the subject.
denn eine Fugam zu tractiren, muss ich die artificia so wohl aus der Oratoria, als
bey dem Stylo moderno, nehmen, ob gleich darinne mehr die Harmonia, als Oratio,
dominiret: Denn Dux ist Propositio; Comes Aetiologia, Oppositum ist Inversio varia
Fugae; Similia geben die veränderten Figuren der Proposition, secundum valorem;
Exempla können heissen die propositiones Fugae in andern Chorden, cum augmen-
tatione & diminutione Subjecti; Confirmatio wäre wenn ich über das Subjectum cano-
nisire; und Conclusio, wenn ich das Subject gegen die Cadenze, in Imitatione, über
eine notam firmam hören lassen, der andern artificiorum zu geschweigen, welche
in Eintretung des Subjecti anzubringen und zu observiren sind.45
The oratorical type Schmidt applied here to fugue is that for a short speech, called
the chria.46 Besides obviously founding its constituent parts perfectly applicable
for his analogy, Schmidt most probably chose this particular dispositio because it
allowed freedom of form, a necessity when establishing a compositional method
for a genre as diverse as fugue. After having enumerated the chria’s divisions,
Johann Heinrich Zedler’s Grosses vollständiges Universal-Lexicon, for that matter, gives
the following qualification:
But customarily neither the number of parts nor their order is [strictly]
adhered to.
Doch pfleget man sich gemeiniglich weder an die Anzahl der Theile, noch
an die Ordnung zu binden.47
That no other attempts to shape a fugue with rhetorical principles had been made
in writings from Bach’s time and environment, clearly hints that there was simply
no need for such an approach. After all, as already firmly established at the time,
45. Schmidt/Mattheson, 1718/1725: 267-268; English translation in Walker, 2000: 313-314.

46. For more ample information on this particular dispositio, see Butler, 1977: 68-76; Walker, 1999:
169-170 & Walker, 2000: 313-315.
47. Zedler, 1733 (vol. 5): 2203; English translation in Walker, 2000: 314.
the discipline of fugue owned its own precepts and jargon, from which we may
also assume that a structural-rhetorical method for this specific genre was gener-
ally considered redundant and unnecessarily academic.48 (However flexible Schmidt
might have intended the chria-fugue analogy to be – note the overall conditional
mood referring to its parts – his rhetorical terminology does actually provide noth-
ing more than an alternative labelling for standard contrapuntal and fugal proce-
dures.) Why, if this were not the situation, would authors such as Johann Gottfried
Walther, Bach’s cousin and close friend, and Meinrad Spiess, like Bach a member of
Mizler’s Sozietät, on the one hand, have defended a musica poetica view, yet have dealt,
on the other hand, with fugal composition using only musical jargon?49 Friedrich
Wilhelm Marpurg, who was a great admirer of Bach,50 also refrained completely
from any rhetorical terminology in his Abhandlung von der Fuge. Even the champion
of musical rhetoric Mattheson, who devoted ninety pages to fugue in Der vollkommene
Capellmeister, did not make one allusion to linguistics regarding fugal structuring.
A rare testimony from Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach referring to the actual process
of fugal composition – Johann Sebastian Bach’s, as it happens – further suggests
the latter’s reluctance towards any kind of formal mould, whether or not rhetorically
inspired. In a letter to Forkel dating from the end of 1774, Carl Philipp Emanuel
apparently found it more worthwhile to mention his father’s primary concern to
elaborate a fugue with the appropriate contrapuntal techniques implied by its sub-
ject than to go into the latter’s thoughts on arrangement altogether:
When he [J. S. Bach] listened to a rich and many-voiced fugue, he could
soon say, after the first entries of the subjects, what contrapuntal devices
it would be possible to apply, and which of them the composer by rights
ought to apply, and on such occasions, when I was standing next to him,
and he had voiced his surmises to me, he would joyfully nudge me when his
expectations where fulfilled.
Bey Anhörung einer starck besetzten u. vielstimmigen Fuge, wuste er bald,

nach den ersten Eintritten der Thematum, vorherzusagen, was für contra-
puncktische Künste möglich anzubringen wären u. was der Componist
48. See also Walker, 1999: 171.

49. See Walther, 1708/1955: 140-159 & 183-195 and Spiess, 1745: 133-160.
50. In 1752 J. S. Bach’s heirs asked Marpurg to write the preface for the second edition of the Art of
Fugue, which was originally published with a brief notice. Marpurg was then at the beginning of his
career, becoming one of the leading theorists of this time. He considered Bach, whom he probably
met in 1746 (BD III, no. 632 & 701), to be the undisputed master of fugal composition. It is not
surprising, therefore, that Bach’s music served as a model in his treatises.
auch von Rechtswegen anbringen müste, u. bey solcher Gelegenheit, wenn

ich bey ihm stand, u. er seine Vermuthungen gegen mich geäußert hatte,
freute er sich u. stieß mich an, als seine Erwartungen eintrafen.51
So to claim that structural-rhetorical ‘terminology is our only key to a close under-

standing of the early concept of such genera as the fugue’, as Gregory Butler did in
his article Fugue and Rhetoric,52 remains dubious, and that is the reason why I have
intentionally avoided any of those terms in this study.
While it is undeniably true that Johann Sebastian Bach considered contrapuntal
and fugal skill of vital importance for himself as a composer, his stunning profi-
ciency was obviously not a goal in itself. Rather, as can be deduced from an account
by Marpurg in which Sebastian severally judged fugue makers who, in his eyes, did
not diversify their compositions enough, it offered the necessary technical variety in
order to achieve a compelling piece:
I myself once heard him [Bach], when during my stay in Leipzig I was
discussing with him certain matters concerning the fugue, pronounce the
works of an old laborious contrapuntist dry and wooden, and certain fugues
by a modern and no less great contrapuntist ... pedantic; the first because the
composer stuck continuously to his principal subject, without change; and
the second because ... he had not shown enough fire to reanimate the theme
by interludes. It seems to me that the examples and judgments of so great a
man as old Bach, who (so to speak) shook all sorts of paper intricacies out
of his sleeve, any one of which would make many a man sweat for days, and
most likely in vain, besides - old Bach’s judgments, I say, contribute consi-
derably to the confirmation of a principle of musical practice that is already
confirmed by feeling.
Ich habe ihn selbst einsmals, als ich bey meinem Aufenthalte in Leipzig mich
über gewisse Materien, welche die Fuge betrafen, mit ihm besprach, die
Arbeiten eines alten mühsamen Contrapunktisten für trocken und hölzern,
und gewisse Fugen eines neuern nicht weniger großen Contrapunktisten
... für pedantisch erklären hören, weil jener immer bey seinem Hauptsatze,
ohne einige Veränderung, bleibt; dieser aber, ... nicht Feuer genug gezeiget
hatte, das Thema durch Zwischenspiele aufs neue zu beleben. Mich dünkt,
die Beyspiele und die Urtheile eines so großen Mannes, als der alte Bach
war, welcher auch alle die papiernen Künsteleyen, so zu sagen, aus dem
Aermel schüttelte, über deren einer allein mancher viele Tage, und doch
noch dazu wohl vergeblich, schwitzen muß, des alten Bachs Urtheile, sage

52. Butler, 1977: 99.
ich, tragen zur Bestärkung eines durch die Empfindung selbst bestärkten
musikalisch-praktischen Grundsatzes ein Ansehnliches bey.53
Although without any specific reference to the discipline of rhetoric, this underlying
concern to maintain interest throughout the fugue is also reflected, to a greater or
lesser extent, in the treatises dealing with fugal composition from the time and envi-
ronment of Johann Sebastian Bach. On the one hand, these prescribe the technique
of stretto for this purpose, implying a structure in which the most intricate texture
is kept for the end of the fugue, or even in which the complexity possibly increases
gradually. According to Walther,
When a fugue is almost finished, one must be careful to bring the subject
as close as possible to each other, so that, as a result, the general proverb so
desired in all arts, that is Finis coronat opus, the end crowns the work, is also
verified here.
Wenn eine fuga bald zu Ende ist, muß man bedacht seyn, das thema so viel
möglich dichte unter ein ander zubringen, damit alsdenn das gemeine
Sprüchwort so in allen Künsten desideriret wird, neml. Finis coronat opus, das
letzte das Beste auch hier verificiret werde.54
Along the same lines, Spiess advised that:
In fugues, ... the greatest power with full-voiced stretto, repetition and imi-
tation of the thema, subject, etc. is used towards the end of the composition.
In den Fugen ... wird die gröste Force mit volstimmiger Constringir-Repetir-und
Imitirung des Thematis, Subjecti, &c. gebraucht zu Ende der Composition.55
Although not explicitly recommending reserving the most complex stretto for last,
Mattheson, for his part, put forward how the type of stretto should ideally become
gradually more intricate to ensure ‘the [textural] variation which otherwise is
often absent in fugues’ (die den Fugen sonst sehr abgehende Veränderung).56 After hav-
ing described some application of stretto as already being necessary during the
53. BD III, no. 701: 144-145; English translation in NBR, no. 357: 363. The NBR translates mühsamen by
‘hardworking’.
54. Walther, 1708/1955: 186; my English translation.
55. Spiess, 1745: 134; my English translation. Spiess used from the Italian or Latin derived constringirung
to indicate the technique of stretto, constringere meaning to compress or to squeeze.
56. Mattheson, 1739: 388; English translation in Harriss, 1981: 728.
opening exposition in order to avoid too regular an alternation of dux and comes, he
pointed out that:
Consequently, with the second or third exposition, the nearer the voices
follow on each other’s heels, so to speak, or encroach on one other, ... and
the more unexpectedly this surprise [effect] is perceived, ... the more plea-
sant such an alternating song [the fugue] will be to hear. ... Under such a
circumstance then the subjects can gradually come closer to each other, if
they are thus arranged.
Je näher sich demnach, bey der zwoten oder dritten [zum andern oder
drittenmahl der] Durchführung, die Stimmen, so zu reden, auf den Fersen
folgen, oder gar ins Gehäge kommen, ... und ie unvermutheter diese
Uiberraschung [Folge], ... vernommen wird, ... ie angenehmer [artiger]
wird ein solcher Wechsel-Gesang [die Fuge] zu hören seyn. ... Bey solcher
[sothaner] Gelegenheit mögen sich denn die Sätze [Themata] allmählig
nähern, wenn sie darnach eingerichtet sind.57
In addition to the use of stretto, authors from Bach’s time and environment also
considered the episode as vital to obtain variety and to keep the audience’s attention,
a viewpoint, as we saw above, shared by Bach. According to Mattheson, who, for that
matter, ‘was the first German writer to mention episodes’,58
If ... the short, necessary interludes, episodes, transitions and connecting

passages are included, together with the shortened, unexpected presen-
tations of the themes and their ornamentation, oh! then one has a very
broad, ample field for meaningful variation, and need not fear a deficiency
of materials.
Kommen ... hiezu die kleinen nothwendigen Zwischenspiele, Füllsteine,

Uibergänge [transitiones] und Verknüpffungen, samt den verkürtzten,
unvermutheten Anbringungen der Sätze [des Thematis] und ihrer [der]
Auszierung, o! so hat man ein sehr weites, geraumes Feld zur sinnrei-
chen Wechsel-Arbeit vor sich, und darff den Abgang der Materialien [des
Abgangs der Materie] nicht fürchten [befürchten].59
57. Mattheson, 1737: 173-174 & 1739: 388-389 (words between brackets from Mattheson, 1737:
173-174); English translation in Harriss, 1981: 728-729 (words between brackets: my English
translation).
58. Walker, 2000: 354.
59. Mattheson, 1737: 175 & 1739: 389 (words between brackets from Mattheson, 1737: 175); English
translation in Harriss, 1981: 730.
As for Marpurg, obviously strongly influenced by Bach and his music, he stated that:
If no episode precedes the cadence, one may introduce an episode rather

than a thematic entrance on the cadence in order to increase the listener’s
anticipation of the new thematic entrance.
man läßt, wenn kein Zwischensatz vor der Cadenz vorhergegangen, bey
dieser Cadenz anitzo einen Zwischensatz hören, um dem Gehöre nach der
Wiederkunft des Hauptsatzes ein desto grösser Verlangen zu machen.60
In spite of the great importance Bach unquestionably attributed to stretto and epi-
sode in fugal composition, his oeuvre convincingly demonstrates that the above
statements and guidelines should be put somewhat into perspective. Firstly, besides
being a generally approved concept, ‘regular’ opening expositions, that is in which
each next entry enters on the last note of the former entry or in the same metrical
place (more or less) immediately after it – thus excluding stretto – belong also to
Bach’s standard compositional procedure, as the first two Contrapuncti of the Art of
Fugue, for instance, illustrate. Secondly, a complete lack of stretto in a fugue by an
accomplished composer like Bach does anything but imply musical dullness or a
sense of unsatisfactoriness, significantly illustrated by the gigue-like Fugue 10 in
E minor BWV 879/2 and the joyful Fugue 11 in F major BWV 880/2, to name only two
from WTC 2. Thirdly, though less common and perhaps somewhat contradictory to
the above account by Marpurg, Bach did write – successfully, as it happens – fugues
without episodes, like the stretto-abundant Fugue 1 in C major BWV 846/2 (WTC 1).61
In short, a fixed set of rules for how to compose a fugue well in order to obtain a
captivating musical discourse, does not apply to Bach, or, for that matter, to any
good composer. To use the words of Spiess, which clearly reflect Bach’s viewpoint:
Incidentally, it is not a rule that one should or could realize all fugues in like
manner and not differently. Almost everything also depends here [in fugal
composition], as in all other things, on the Judicium or power of judgment
of a composer every time.
Ubrigens ist es kein Gesatz, daß man alle Fugen eben so, und nicht anderst
könne oder solle ausführen, ... Das mehreste komt auch hier, wie in allen
60. Marpurg, 1753: 122; English translation in Mann 1958/1987: 141 & 179.
61. Moreover, a technique apparently having been invented by Johann Theile (Walker, 2000: 234),
Bach included in at least seven of his early cantatas so-called permutation fugues, that is fugues
without episodes, only using a chain of all possible permutations of a matrix of subjects written in
invertible counterpoint (see, amongst others, Röder, 2010: 5).
anderen Sachen, allezeit auf das Judicium oder Beurtheilungs-Krafft eines

Componisten an.62
Nevertheless, the concept of a generally increasing complexity did function recur-

rently as a powerful compositional tool for Bach.63 While it is beyond the scope of
this study to elaborate on this feature in relation to Bach’s entire oeuvre, in the second
part of this book I hope to show how Bach brilliantly tightened the musical tension
in each of the first four Contrapuncti, the so-called ‘simple’ fugues supposedly devoid
of any intricacy. In these pieces, he even went further than what the above guidelines
suggest, since contrapuntal complexity does not only increase in the course of the
subsequent middle entries but also of the episodes.
When it comes to the final step of music-making, executio, there was general consen-
sus among authors dealing with performance practice from Bach’s time and envi-
ronment that a performer needed above all to affect his audience. To use the words
of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, with which every musician in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries must have identified:
A musician cannot move others unless he too is moved. He must of neces-

sity feel all of the affects that he hopes to arouse in his audience, for the reve-
aling of his own humor will stimulate a like humor in the listener. In lan-
guishing, sad passages, the performer must languish and grow sad. Thus
will the expression of the piece be more clearly perceived by the audience.
Similarly, in lively, joyous [and other kinds of] passages, the executant must
again put himself into the appropriate mood. ... Nature has wisely provided
music with every kind of appeal so that all might share in its enjoyment. It
thus becomes the duty of the performer to satisfy to the best of his ability
every last kind of listener.
62. Spiess, 1745: 154; my English translation.

63. In her article One More Time: Bach and Seventeenth-Century Traditions of Rhetoric, Bettina Varwig argues
that Erasmus’s notion of rhetoric, ‘which focused on argumentative procedures involving variation
and amplification’, had an important influence on German Baroque composers and, particularly,
on Bach (Varwig, 2008: 179).
Indem ein Musickus nicht anders rühren kan, er sey dann selbst gerührt;
so muß er nothwendig sich in alle Affeckten setzen können, welche er bey
seinen Zuhörern erregen will; er giebt ihnen seine Empfindungen zu ver-
stehen und bewegt sie solchergestallt am besten zur Mit-Empfindung. Bey
matten und traurigen Stellen wird er matt und traurig. Man sieht und hört
es ihm an. Dieses geschicht ebenfals bey heftigen, lustigen, und andern
Arten von Gedancken, wo er sich alsdenn in diese Affeckten setzet. ... Da
die Natur auf eine so weise Art die Musik mit so vielen Veränderungen
begabet hat, damit ein jeder daran Antheil nehmen könne: so ist ein
Musikus also auch schuldig, so viel ihm möglich ist, allerley Arten von
Zuhörern du befriedigen.64
In order to become a musician who moves others, some of these writings on inter-
pretation argued that, essentially, one needed the same qualities as those of a good
orator – musical performance, we are told, setting highly similar goals to those of
oratorical delivery. Of all the commentators, Mattheson undoubtedly held the most
radical viewpoint in this matter, greatly emphasizing, moreover, the craft of singing
for each musician (see also below):
Whoever cannot speak is even less able to sing; and whoever cannot sing
also is not able to play.
Wer nicht sprechen kan, der kan noch vielweniger singen; und wer nicht
singen kan, der kan auch nicht spielen.65
As for Johann Joachim Quantz, he saw benefit in applying oratorical guidelines to

musical executio as well, yet stipulating that orators could also learn from musicians:
Musical execution may be compared with the delivery of an orator. The ora-
tor and the musician have, at bottom, the same aim in regard to both the
preparation and the final execution of their productions, namely to make
themselves masters of the hearts of their listeners, to arouse or still their pas-
sions, and to transport them now to this sentiment, now to that. Thus it is
advantageous to both, if each has some knowledge of the duties of the other.
Der musikalische Vortrag kann mit dem Vortrage eines Redners vergli-
chen werden. Ein Redner und ein Musikus haben sowohl in Ansehung
der Ausarbeitung der vorzutragenden Sachen, als des Vortrages selbst,
einerley Absicht zum Grunde, nämlich: sich der Herzen zu bemeistern, die
Leidenschaften zu erregen oder zu stillen, und die Zuhörer bald in diesen,
64. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 122 & 123; English translation in Mitchell, 1949/1951: 152 & 153.
65. Mattheson, 1739: 103: English translation in Harriss, 1981: 254.
bald in jenen Affect zu versetzen. Es ist vor beyde ein Vortheil, wenn einer
von den Pflichten des andern einige Erkenntniß hat.
L’Expression dans la Musique peut être comparée à celle d’un Orateur.

L’Orateur & le Musicien ont tous deux le même dessein, aussi bien par rap-
port à la composition de leurs productions qu’à l’expression même. Ils veu-
lent s’emparer des cœurs, exciter ou appaiser les mouvemens de l’ame, &
faire passer l’auditeur d’une passion à l’autre. Il leur est avantageux, lorsque
l’un a quelques notions des connaissances de l’autre.66
That Bach, however, did not specifically refer to rhetoric in the succinct Inventions
preface underlining his pedagogical intentions concerning keyboard playing (see
above), does not per se imply that his views on interpretation differed substantially
from those set out in textbooks which did. After all, besides discussing performance
practice much more elaborately, treatises by Bach’s pupils and admirers did include
linguistic concepts, suggesting that they must have belonged to Bach’s approach
to teaching and to playing. Moreover, the writings dealing with executio both from
within and without the Bach circle, and whether or not they use the analogy with
oratorical delivery, all provide musical, practical and common-sense guidelines on
how to ensure an enthralling performance in a similar manner, and therefore allow
us to gain significant insight into the contemporary and, more specifically, Bach’s
performance practice.
A cross section of what had been written in Germany between roughly 1675 and
1775 on persuasive interpretation results in more or less three general directives.67
Firstly, one should perform in the clearest possible way – a guideline, as a matter
of fact, which Bach included in the preface to the Inventions (‘to play clearly in two
[and three] voices’) – to be achieved by: having a solid technique, which looks and
feels easy, playing or singing in tune, producing a good sound, playing or singing
the notes correctly, playing or singing the dynamics correctly, articulating cor-
rectly, playing or singing metrically, playing or singing the ornaments correctly, etc.
Secondly, one should apply the necessary variety and contrast to the performance
parameters mentioned above, which the guidelines for a ‘correct’ performance allow
by intentionally remaining flexible. Finally, and most importantly, one should play
66. Quantz, 1752 (German version): 100; Quantz, 1752 (French version): 102; English translation in
Reilly, 1966: 119.
67. Since most of the requirements to realize these directives are discussed, to a greater or lesser
extent, in the second and third chapters of the first part of this book, I limit myself here only to the
essentials.
or sing expressively, that is feel for oneself each Affekt before eloquently transmitting
it, suggested by the following variables of a composition: key, tempo or character
indication, harmony, consonance and dissonance, melodic interval, rhythm, tessi-
tura, texture, etc.
At first sight, while not going into the second and third general guidelines on
the title page of the Inventions, Bach added another one, which he saw as his most
important intention with these pieces – ‘above all, to arrive at at a cantabile style
in playing’. Notwithstanding that Bach did not explain this notion further, we do
find commentaries on cantabile in several treatises from his time and environment.
In these, ‘to arrive at a cantabile style in playing’ suggests less one specific piece
of technical advice but might rather be read as a kind of umbrella directive for an
engaged performance of keyboard polyphony according to vocal standards. As the
following survey will make clear, however, this analysis remains somewhat conjec-
tural, for cantabile was generally described quite poorly and, although mostly inter-
woven with good singing, mainly from a compositional-technical angle rather than
as an actual way of performing.
Seeing it as the foremost requirement for composition, Mattheson recom-
mended:
That one should write in a cantabile manner, i.e. that everything which one
does could be sung well, be it vocal or instrumental music.
Daß man Cantable setze. h.e. daß sich alles/was man machet/es sey vocal-
oder Instrumental-Music wohl singen lasse.68
In pointing out how a composer should compose with taste (gout [sic]), Johann David
Heinichen, even without relating to execution, stipulated that this should happen:
especially through a generally dominating Cantabile.
specialiter: durch ein überall dominirendes Cantabile.69
Along the same lines as Mattheson, yet formulated in such a way that its concept
must have embraced contrapuntal textures as well, Walther defined cantabile:
when a composition, be it for voices or for instruments, can be well sung in
all voices and parts, or each part thus contains its own melody.

69. Heinichen, 1728: 23 (footnote i), my English translation.
wenn eine Composition, sie sey vocaliter oder instrumentaliter gesetzt, in allen
Stimmen und Partien sich wohl singen lässet, oder eine seine Melodie in
solchen führet.70
Yet Quantz, for his part, did link the term with a specific way of performing. From his
juxtaposition of both sentences in the following quote it becomes clear that he most
probably viewed cantabile as the expression of a gentle, elegant Affekt, for which the
vocal style served as a model:
Each instrumentalist must strive to execute that which is cantabile as a good
singer executes it. The singer, on the other hand, must try [in what is lively] to
achieve the fire of good instrumentalists, as much as the voice is capable of it.
Ein jeder Instrumentist muß sich bemühen, das Cantable so vorzutragen,

wie es ein guter Sänger vorträgt. Der Sänger hingegen muß im Lebhaften,
das Feuer guter Instrumentisten, so viel die Singstimme dessen fähig ist, zu
erreichen suchen.
Chaque joueur d’instrument doit tacher d’exprimer le Cantabile ainsi qu’un

bon Chanteur l’exprime; & un bon Chanteur de son coté doit chercher d’ac-
querir le feu des bons joueurs d’instruments par rapport à la vivacité, autant
que la voix en est capable.71
Without actually using the word cantabile, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach also advised
instrumentalists to learn from good singers especially, and to approach music
vocally, moreover showing himself sceptical – again – towards too academic an
approach of music making:
As a means of learning the essentials of good performance it is advisable to
listen to accomplished musicians... Above all, lose no opportunity to hear
artistic singing. In so doing, the keyboardist will learn to think in terms
of [singing]. Indeed, it is a good practice to sing instrumental melodies
in order to reach an understanding of their correct performance. This way
of learning is of far greater value than the reading of voluminous tomes or
listening to learned discourses.
Wir haben ... als ein Mittel, den guten Vortrag zu erlernen, die Besuchung
guter Musicken vorgeschlagen. Wir fügen allhier noch hinzu, daß man
70. Walther, 1732: 134; my English translation. Bach not only owned a copy of Walther’s Musicalisches
Lexicon, he also acted, as he did for Heinichen’s General-Bass, as the representative in Leipzig for that
treatise (see footnote 15).
Reilly, 1966: 127. Reilly translates im Lebhaften by ‘in lively pieces.’
keine Gelegenheit verabsäumen müsse, geschickte Sänger besonders zu

hören; Man lernet dadurch singend dencken, und wird man wohl thun,
daß man sich hernach selbst einen Gedancken vorsinget, um den rechten
Vortrag desselben zu treffen. Dieses wird allezeit von grösserm Nutzen
seyn, als solches aus weitläuftigen Büchern und Discursen zu hohlen.72
So while these treatises do not fully satisfy with regard to explaining the precise
meaning of cantabile, the broader context of their performance practice directives
does allow us to determine which interpretation of cantabile it probably, if not cer-
tainly, could not have been. The fact that, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centu-
ries, articulation was widely regarded as an essential parameter to achieve clarity of
metre through the executio of not only fast but of slow pieces as well, simply con-
tradicts the idea that cantabile was technically realized by an overall legato – two
concepts, however, still often regarded, at least from a modern viewpoint, as more
or less synonymous.73
Whatever precise interpretation Bach himself gave to ‘a cantabile style in play-
ing’, the choice for that very expression rules out, in my opinion, that he would
have pursued an exclusive focus on mere technical excellence and correct appli-
cation of musical syntax in his own and in his students’ keyboard performance.
Whereas those features definitively formed essential execution tools in order ‘to
play clearly in two [and three] voices’, Forkel confirmed in his biography of Bach
that an accomplished performer like him had additional assets specifically intended
to enthral his audience:
A person may, however, possess all these advantages [i.e. all the aspects of
his flawless technique], and yet be a [feeble] performer on the clavier, in the
same manner as a man may have a very clear and fine pronunciation, and yet
be a bad declaimer or orator. To be a [strong] performer, many other quali-
ties are necessary, which Bach likewise possessed in the highest perfection.
... In the execution of his own pieces he generally took the time very brisk,
but contrived, besides the briskness, to introduce so much variety in his per-
formance that under his hand every piece was, as it were, like a discourse.
Man kann indessen die angeführten Vortheile alle besitzen, und doch
noch ein schwacher Clavierspieler seyn, so wie jemand eine völlig reine
und schöne Aussprache haben, und doch noch ein schlechter Declamator
72. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 122; English translation in Mitchell, 1949/1951: 151-152. Mitchell translates
singend dencken by ‘to think in terms of song’.
73. For detailed information on metre, articulation and their interaction in eighteenth-century German
performance practice, see the second and third chapters of the first part of this book.
oder Redner seyn kann. Um starker Spieler zu seyn, sind noch viele andere
Vorzüge erforderlich, welche Bach ebenfalls in höchster Vollkommenheit
besaß. ... Bey der Ausführung seiner eigenen Stücke nahm er das Tempo
gewöhnlich sehr lebhaft, wußte aber außer dieser Lebhaftigkeit noch so
viele Mannigfaltigkeit in seinen Vortrag zu bringen, daß jedes Stück unter
seiner Hand gleichsam wie eine Rede sprach.74
My goal with this section was twofold. On the one hand, I hope to have illustrated
that it is anything but self-evident for Bach, with his pragmatic attitude, to have relied
on the discipline of rhetoric for his activities as a composer, teacher or performer.
His approach, especially to inventio and dispositio, seems to have been based on purely
musical insight and skill. On the other hand, since Baroque authors, who remod-
elled Roman and Greek rhetoric into musical rhetoric, intended to offer a com-
prehensible way of explaining what good composers and performers were already
doing rather than formulating a new frame of reference, we do find common ground
between what their treatises set out and how musicians such as Bach presumably saw
things. Perhaps the clearest example of how a rhetorical concept successfully filled
in a blank in the contemporary music theory and analysis, reaching out to actual
composition, is the decoratio with its figures. While the latter are obviously tangible
in Bach’s vocal music as striking musical gestures underlining the meaning of the
text, knowledge of figures proves highly useful for his instrumental pieces as well,
in order to understand and perform better similarly noticeable, or even apparently
second-choice, compositional decisions. Moreover, specifically with regard to the
Art of Fugue, the often strategic positioning of Bach’s figures was arguably intended
to clarify the dispositio in addition to calling attention to the moment itself, thereby
contributing further to achieving as captivating a musical discourse as possible – the
ultimate purpose of executio and, for that matter, of every performer.
74. Forkel, 1802: 14 & 17; English translation in NBR: 433 & 436. The NBR translates schlechter by ‘very
indifferent’ and starker by ‘able’.
2.
On Metre
I n seventeenth-century and eighteenth-century Europe, the theoretical concept

of metre with its hierarchic organization of notes seems to have been strongly
embedded in the performance practice prevailing at the time. Depending on its posi-
tion in the bar, a note could be ‘good’, and thus strong and/or long, or ‘bad’, that is
weak and/or short.75
Although Johann Sebastian Bach did not leave us any information about his views
on this matter, I argue that, since metric hierarchy is well documented in eighteenth-
century German treatises, and also in contemporary writings from Bach’s environ-
ment and possible sphere of influence, the concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes, was,
and still is, of great significance when interpreting his music and, specifically, the
Art of Fugue.
I open this chapter with a survey of the most relevant sources on simple duple
and quadruple metres as they relate to the Art of Fugue.76 Furthermore, with regard
to 2/2, the metre occurring most often within BWV 1080, I explain how the regu-
larity of the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes occasionally, and for specific reasons, can be
modified or even broken by the performance. Finally, since three pieces of the Art
of Fugue employ a metre other than C| or C, I have included discussions of triple and
compound metres as well. I have refrained, however, from elaborating on possible
75. See Houle, 1987.

76. Metres may be categorized as duple, triple or quadruple (according to whether a bar contains two,
three or four beats, respectively) and as simple or compound (whether those beats are subdivided
binary or ternary, respectively). Adapted from Justin London: Metre, Grove Music Online ed.
L. Macy (Accessed 23 October 2008), <http://www.grovemusic.com>. From this we can derive six
main metric categories: (1) simple duple metre (i.e. 2/2 or 2/4), (2) simple triple metre (i.e. 3/2 or
3/4), (3) simple quadruple metre (i.e. 4/2 or 4/4), (4) compound duple metre (i.e. 6/4 or 6/8), (5)
compound triple metre (i.e. 9/8 or 9/16) and (6) compound quadruple metre (i.e. 12/8 or 12/16).
exceptions in relation to these metres, since the parameters influencing their metric
hierarchy are identical to those in simple and quadruple metres.
The most commonly used metre to illustrate the concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes
was 4/4. Walther, for instance, not only developed this metric organization but also
gave important supplementary information concerning the possible harmonic func-
tions of a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ note in his Musicalisches Lexicon (1732):
Tempo di buona [Ital.] is the good part of the beat. Under the equal tactus, the
first of two minims, or the first half of the beat is good; also the first and
third of four quarter notes, the first, third, fifth and seventh of eight eighth
notes and so forth, because these tempi, or odd-numbered parts of the beat,
are suitable for the placement of a caesura, a cadence, a long syllable, a
syncopated dissonance, and above all a consonance (from which comes its
name – di buona).
Tempo di cattiva, or di mala [Ital.] is the bad part of the beat. In the Tactu
aequali or beat with two equal strokes, the second of two minims or the
second half of the beat is bad; also the second and fourth of four quarters,
the second, fourth, sixth and eighth of eight eighth notes, because these
tempi or even-numbered parts of the beat are all different from the above-
mentioned parts, and are their opposites.
Tempo di buona [ital.] der gute Tact-Theil, ist in tactu æquali, unter 2 Minimis
die erste Minima, oder die erste helffte des Tacts; unter 4 Vierteln, das 1ste
und 3te Viertel; unter 8 Achteln, das 1ste, 3te, 5te, und 7de Achtel u.s.w. weil
erwehnte tempi oder ungerade Tact-Theile bequehm sind, daß auf ihnen
eine Cæsur, eine Cadenz, eine lange Sylbe, eine syncopirte Dissonanz, und vor
allen eine Consonanz (als von welcher eben der Bey-Nahme: di buona entstan-
den) angebracht werde.
Tempo di cattiva, oder di mala [ital.] der schlimme Tact-Theil, ist in tactu
æquali, unter 2 Minimis die zweyte Minima, oder die zweyte helffte des Tacts;
unter 4 Vierteln, das 2te und 4te Viertel; unter 8 Achteln, das 2te, 4te, 6te
und 8te Achtel; weil nurbesagte tempi oder gerade Tact-Theile einige von
ober-zehlten Stücken nicht, wohl aber deren contrarium leiden.77
Walther’s assessment that a consonance or a syncopated dissonance can occur on

a ‘good’ beat implies that there are three main distributions of notes in relation to
‘good’ and ‘bad’ beats:
•• consonance on a ‘good’ beat – dissonance (passing note, neighbour note, suspen-
sion, anticipation) on the following ‘bad’ beat.
77. Walther, 1732: 598; English translation in Houle, 1987: 83.

On Metre 55
•• consonance on a ‘good’ beat – consonance on the following ‘bad’ beat.

•• suspension (or, by extension, an appoggiatura or an accented passing note) on a
‘good’ beat – consonance (its resolution) on the following ‘bad’ beat.
In his Praecepta der Musicalischen Composition (1708) Walther explained how the con-
cept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes should be reflected in performance:
Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum (which is also called Quantitas accentualis) refers
to those lengths, in the case of several notes of equal value, which are per-
formed unequally, so that these equal notes are alternatively long and short.
For instance,
j Ï– Ïv –j vj
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.
Ï Ï
– –
c Ï
v v
& J J J Ï J J Ï Ï
Mei - ne See - le ruft und Schrey - et.
In this example, the notes are, in their outward values, equal with each
other (because they are purely quavers) but the inner value is such that the
1.3.5.7th are long, the 2.4.6.8th short. … This theory about the accent’s
length has its specific advantages both vocally and instrumentally; since
from this arises the tasteful differentiation of the voice or finger, so that
one attacks strongly such a note which, depending on its number, is
strong, while one expresses somewhat shorter and softer such a note
which, depending on its number, is short.
Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum (welche auch Quantitas accentualis genennet wird)

ist diejenige Länge, wenn etliche dem valore nach sonst gleich geltende
Noten, gantz ungleich tractiret werden, also, daß eine gegen die andere ihres
gleichen, bald lang, bald kurtz ist. In diesem Exempel sind zwar die Noten,
der äuserlichen Geltung nach, einander gleich (weil es neml. lauter Achtel
sind) aber der innerl. Geltung nach ist die 1. 3. 5. 7te lang; und die 2. 4.
6. 8te kurtz. … Diese Lehre von der Accent-Länge, hat so wohl vocaliter als
instrumentaliter ihren sonderbahren Nutzen; denn hieraus entspringet die
manirliche moderation der Stimme, oder Finger, daß man neml. eine solche
Note, die der Zahl nach, lang ist, starck anschläget; hingegen eine solche
Note, die der Zahl nach kurtz ist, auch etwas kürtzer und leiser exprimiret.78
78. Walther, 1708/1955: 23-24. English translation of the first two sentences in Butt, 1990: 12-13;
the English translation of the last sentence is mine. The concept of Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum
was treated for the first time in Wolfgang Caspar Printz’s Satyrischer Componist (1676), a treatise
profoundly influencing Walther’s view on this matter.
(Although this example does not contain any bar line, the numbers above each qua-
ver obviously represent their position in the 4/4 metre, and therefore exclude all
other possible metric interpretations of this example.)
Thus, with regard to simple duple and quadruple metres, the application of
Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum results in the regular coupling of notes into pairs by
means of dynamic differentiation and articulation, of which the first note of a pair,
on the odd-numbered beat or part of the beat, is usually considered to be ‘good’,
while the ‘bad’ note falls on the even beat or part of the beat.
While Walther, describing the concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes as the ‘theory
of the accent’s length’, seemed to consider ‘good’ note and accent as synonyms,
Kirnberger made a distinction between both terms:
Meter determines the accents in addition to [my emphasis] the length and
brevity of the notes and the lighter or more emphatic delivery; and it shapes
the notes into words, so to speak.
Der Takt setzet die Accente nebst der Länge und Kürze der Töne, und dem
leichtern oder nachdrücklichern Vortrag fest, und bildet die Töne gleichsam
in Wörter.79
He added that the strength of an accent depends on its position in the bar:
Meter actually consists of the precise uniformity of accents that are given to a
few notes and of the completely regular distribution of long and short sylla-
bles. That is, when these heavier or lighter accents recur at regular intervals,
the melody acquires a meter or a measure. If these accents were not distri-
buted regularly, so that no precise periodic recurrence occurred, the melody
would be similar only to common prosaic speech; but with this periodic
return it is comparable to poetic speech, which has its precise meter.
In der genauen Einförmigkeit der Accente, die auf einige Töne gelegt
werden, und der völlig regelmäßigen Vertheilung der langen und kurzen
Sylben, bestehet eigentlich der Tackt. Wenn nemlich eben dieselben schwe-
reren oder leichteren Accente in gleichen Zeiten wiederkommen, so erhält
der Gesang dadurch ein Metrum oder einen Tackt. Würden diese Accente
nicht regelmäßig vertheilet, so daß keine genaue periodische Wiederkunft
darin wäre, so gliche der Gesang nur der gemeinen prosaischen Rede; durch
diese periodische Wiederkunft aber gleichet sie der gebundenen Rede, die
ihr genaues Metrum hat.80
79. Kirnberger, 1776: 105; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 375.

On Metre 57
He elaborated on this in one particularly clear example:

In metres with four beats, the first and third beats are long while the second
and fourth are short. The former are also called good, and the latter bad
beats. Of the long beats, the first has in turn more weight than the third, as
can be seen from the following example, where – means long, and v short:
In den Tacktarten von vier Zeiten ist die erste und dritte Zeit lang, die zweyte
and vierte Zeit aber kurz. Erstere werden auch die guten, und letztere die
schlechten Zeiten genennet. Von den langen Zeiten ist die erstere wiede-
rum von größeren Gewicht, als die dritte, wie aus folgender Vorstellung zu
sehen ist, – bedeutet lang, und v bedeutet kurz:81
– v –
v– v
12 ––
/ cÏ Ï Ï Ï 8 Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
v v– v
From this we learn that the concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes included more nuances
than simply ‘good’ or ‘bad’. When we place it beside Kirnberger’s statement about
accentuation, we can recognize four main categories of notes in simple and com-
pound quadruple metres, ranked here in decreasing order of metric importance:
1. The ‘longest’, ’best’ note falls on the downbeat and receives an accent.
2. The note in the middle of the bar is still ‘good’ and is also accented, albeit some-
what less than the downbeat.
3. The notes on the second and fourth beats are ‘bad’, thus played short.
4. All subdivisions of beats are even ‘worse’ than the notes of the preceding category.
The above considerations with regard to the performance of quadruple metres also
account for simple metres, though with the important difference that the latter con-
tain only one ‘good’ beat per bar. As this is a metre of particular importance in the Art
of Fugue, Kirnberger stated that:
[2/2] maintains always the same bar weight for every other half note.
[2/2] immer von zwey zu zwey halben Tacktnoten sein gleiches Tacktgewicht
behält.82
81. Kirnberger, 1776, 124; my English translation.

82. Kirnberger, 1776: 122; my English translation. Note that, although the time signature in both the
manuscript and the print of Contrapunctus 1, 2 and 3 is the same, C|, in the former it represents the
(old) metre 4/2, whereas Bach decided to use the more usual 2/2 in the latter, a distinction which
seems to suggest a (slightly) different metric hierarchy. According to Kirnberger, however, one
should treat the obsolete 4/2 metre exactly like a 2/2 metre: ‘If young composers should come
It goes without saying that a systematic and uniform application of the concept
of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes would result in musical dullness; for the sake of the dis-
course, deviations from this standard practice are indispensable. Whereas Walther
and Kirnberger, only dealing with the basics of metre, do not provide information on
whether, when or how it was appropriate to break (temporarily) the metric regular-
ity, we do find guidance on this issue in the writings of Mattheson, amongst others.
The last illustrated how a word with an emotional content occurring on a ‘bad’ beat
(often an adjective or adverb) can still be performed ‘better’ than its metric position
suggests. Mattheson related the notion of emphasis to this kind of word, distin-
guishing it from accent:
the aim of accents is only the pronunciation; emphasis on the other hand so
to speak points toward the emotion, and illuminates the sense or meaning
of the performance.
der Accent richtet seine Absicht bloß auf die Aussprache; die Emphasis
hergegen zeiget gleichsam mit Fingern auf die Gemüths-Neigung, und
beleuchtet den Sinn oder Verstand des Vortrages.83
He also pointed out that:

the emphasis always falls on an entire word, not according to the sound of
it but according to the meaning contained therein; whereas the accent only
deals merely with the syllables, namely with their length, brevity, raising or
lowering in punctuation.
across church pieces in alla breve time where there are four half notes between two bar lines,
they must not let themselves be misled and conclude that the meter is 4/2. This occurs only as a
convenience for the composer to avoid an excess of bar lines and ties, and he is free to do so. But
this does not change the nature of the C| measure, which [maintains always the same bar weight for
every other half note]; and the downbeat and upbeat of the C| measure is fixed even when four, six,
and more measures are joined without bar line.’ (Junge Tonsetzer müßen sich nicht irre machen lassen,
wenn sie Kirchenstücke im Allabrevetackt ansichtig werden, wo vier Zweyviertelnoten zwischen zween Tacktstriche
zusammengebracht sind, und daraus schließen, daß es der 4/2 Tackt sey. Dieses geschieht blos aus Bequemlichkeit
des Tonsetzers um die vielen Tacktstriche und Bindungen zu vermeiden, und steht ihm ebenfalss frey. Dadurch
wird aber das Wesen des C| Tacktes nicht verändert, der immer von zwey zu zwey halben Tacknoten sein gleiches
Tacktgewicht behält, und den Niederschlag und Aufschlag des Tacktschlagens bestimmt, auch wenn vier, sechs
und mehrere Tackte ohne Tacktstrich zusammengesetzt werden.) Kirnberger, 1776: 122; English translation
in Beach-Thym, 1982: 390 (words between brackets: my English translation).
83. Mattheson, 1739: 174-175; English translation in Harriss, 1981: 370.
On Metre 59
die Emphasis immer auf ein ganzes Wort fällt, nicht nach dem Klange
desselben, sondern nach dem darin enthaltenen Bilde des Verstandes; der
Accent hergegen hat nur mit blossen Sylben, nehmlich mit deren Länge,
Kürtze, Erhebung oder Erniedrigung im Aussprechen zu schaffen.84
Consequently, when we apply this guideline to the above example of Walther, one
should arguably sing the word Schreyet with at least as much (if not more) emphasis
than ruft notwithstanding that the fourth crotchet is obviously less ‘good’ than the third.
Translated into purely musical terms, the concept of emphasis yields a third
category of notes, next to the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes: ‘bad’ notes becoming ‘better’
or even (almost) ‘good’ because of their unusual context. Firstly, a note’s particu-
lar length can influence the standard metric hierarchy. For instance, regardless of
whether or not it becomes dissonant, a syncopation is most likely to receive metri-
cally more weight than it would have if it had been replaced by two notes, each with
half the length of the syncopation:
1 1
&b C Ï Ï ú Ï Ï
ÏÏ Ï Ï
?bC · ·
{
Example 1: Canon per Augmentationem in Contrario Motu, bar 1, original & alternative
version.
Secondly, a note can also belong to this third category because of its unexpectedly
high or low positioning. Reconsider example 4 of the preceding chapter. As I pointed
out there, in bar 20 of Contrapunctus 8 Bach wrote a very ‘bad’, unexpected d2 instead
of a regular d1, the former’s very presence automatically resulting in emphasis, even
without doing anything extra during performance.
Arguably the most significant parameter causing deviations from the regular
Quantitas Intrinseca is dissonant or/and chromatic harmony. Before we can go into
this matter, though, we should first investigate the distinction between an essential
(wesentlich) and a non-essential (zufällig) suspended dissonance, Kirnberger’s major
contribution to music theory. Adequately paraphrased by Joel Lester, these two types
of suspensions are differentiated in the following way:

those in which the suspended interval can resolve over the same chord root
and those that require a new chord to resolve. If a suspension can resolve
into a chord with no other voice motion, it is an incidental [non-essential] disso-
nance; if other voices must move and a new harmony appears along with the
resolution, the suspended tone is an essential dissonance.85
Kirnberger only recognized the chordal seventh as essential dissonance, which is

characterized by the fact that:
the seventh does not replace the sixth or the octave, but has its own place.
diese Septime hier nicht die Stelle der Sexte oder Octave vertritt, sondern
ihre eigene Stelle für sich.86
He added that:
It can be taken as a general rule that every essential seventh is followed by a

bass progression by ascending fourth or descending fifth to a triad, unless
an inversion of this chord is used.
Man kann für eine allgemeine Regel annehmen, daß nach jeder wesentli-
chen Septime der Baß vier Töne über sich, oder fünf Töne unter sich gehe,
und den Dreyklank zur Harmonie habe, es sey denn, daß eine Verwechslung
dieses Accords genommen werde.87
This implies, according to Kirnberger, that whether or not the seventh of, say, a
dominant seventh chord can be called essential depends on the following chord. On
the one hand, when (an inversion of) a dominant seventh chord progresses to (an
inversion of) the first degree, the seventh of the former is called essential. On the
other hand, when it progresses, for instance, to the sixth degree, David Beach and
Jurgen Thym explain how Kirnberger regarded the seventh of the dominant seventh
85. Lester, 1996: 242. Note that a non-essential dissonance can but should not resolve within the same
chord:
& w
w
w
ú
wú
úú w
w
w
ú
úú
úúú
? h
ú
l d h
ú
l
úg
{ w ú w
Example 2: Kirnberger, 1771: 77.
On Metre 61
chord as inauthentic (uneigentlich), a type of non-essential dissonance of which the

resolution of the seventh does not occur above the same bass:
it appears as if [this seventh] were an essential dissonance, but is not;

instead, it arises from the displacement of the sixth in the six-five chord,
which is the first inversion of the essential seventh chord.88
The main interest of this distinction with regard to this study is the different metric
placement of the two types of dissonances. According to Kirnberger:
[These non-essential] dissonances must always occur on the [good] beat of
the measure and must resolve on the [bad] beat. In this way they are distin-
guished from the essential dissonance, the seventh, and those dissonances
that arise from inversion of the seventh chord, which usually occur on a
[bad] beat and resolve on the [good] beat.
Diese [zufälligen] Dissonanzen müssen allezeit auf der guten Zeit des
Takts eintreten, und auf den schlechten aufgelöset werden, und dadurch
unterscheiden sie sich von der wesentlichen Dissonanz, der Septime, und
denen, die aus Verwechslung des Septimen-Accords entstehen, welche
meistentheils auf den schlechten Taktzeiten eintreten, und auf den guten
aufgelöset werden.89
The above quotation comes from the first part of his Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik
(1771), whereas Kirnberger somewhat reformulated his opinion on the metric posi-
tion of the essential dissonance in his treatise written two years later, Die wahren
Grundsätze zum Gebrauch der Harmonie (1773):
The essential dissonance can occur on a [good] as well as a [bad] beat, whe-
reas the non-essential dissonance can occur only on a [good] beat.
Die wesentliche Dissonanz kann sowol auf einem guten als schlechten, die
zufälligen aber nur auf einem guten Taktglied allein vorkommen.90
Although the latter view on the positioning of dissonances is more correct than
that of Die Kunst des reinen Satzes, it still needs refinement with regard to Bach’s
88. Beach-Thym, 1982: 85, footnote.

89. Kirnberger, 1771: 72-73; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 92. Beach and Thym translated
auf der guten/schlechten Zeit des Takts by ‘on the strong/weak beat of the measure.’
90. Kirnberger, 1773: 13; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1979: 176. Again, I have replaced the
translators’ terms ‘strong’ and ‘weak’ by ‘good’ and ‘bad’, respectively. Note that Die wahren
Grundsätze was published under Kirnberger’s name as a supplement to Die Kunst, but was probably
written by his student Johann Abraham Peter Schulz (1747-1800), with Kirnberger’s approval.
voice-leading. Firstly, Bach also approved of a non-essential dissonance occurring

on a ‘bad’ minim and even on a ‘bad’ part of a minim as long as it resolves on a
‘worse’ part of that beat:
I I
ú Ï Ï Ï ú #Ï ú Ï
8 9 13 14
& b C Ï #Ï ú Ï ÏÏ nÏ ú
Ï
C Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ#Ï Ï
J c J
·ú Î Ï Ï Î
?bC · ú Cú Ï Î Ï Ï
{ I : non-essential dissonance on a ‘bad’ (part of a) beat.
Example 3: Contrapunctus 1, bars 8-9; Contrapunctus 11, bars 13-14a.
Secondly, he also wrote inauthentic sevenths on a weak (part of a) beat:
I I 227
Ï w I
ú Ï™ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ïú Ï#Ï Ï nÏnÏ Ïú Î
80 81 226
b
& ú c ™
ú ú ú Ï ú
ú
Ï
? b c ú™ Ï Ï ú #Ï ú Ï úÏ Ï Ïú Ï Ï #ÏÏ Ïú #Ï Ï#Ï#ÏÏ
Ï
{ Î Î
I : inauthentic seventh on a ‘bad’ part of a beat.
Example 4: Contrapunctus 14, bars 80-81 & 226-227.
Thirdly, the following example illustrates that essential sevenths not only occur on
‘good’ and ‘bad’ beats, but also on their divisions:
I
ú
I
ÏnÏ Ï ú
IÏ Ï
Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï nÏ Ï™ Ïj
Ï Ï Ï
18 19 20 69
& b C Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï™ J
ú Ï # Ï ÏÏ n úÏ Ï Ï# ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ ú Ïú Ï b Ï
Ä
ú Ï
Ä É
n Ï
? b C Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ä
{ I : essential seventh on a ‘good’ beat.
Ä : essential seventh on a ‘bad’ beat.

É : essential seventh on a ‘bad’ part of a beat.
Example 5: Contrapunctus 1, bars 18-20 & 69.

On Metre 63
From all these dissonances there are those which occur on a ‘good’ beat in perfect
agreement with the concept of Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum, and should thus be per-
formed stronger than their resolutions on a ‘bad’ beat. Although not specifically
related to metric position, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach nevertheless stated that:
in general it can be said that dissonances are played [more] loudly and con-
sonances [more] softly, since the former rouse our emotions [with empha-
sis] and the latter [calm] them.
man mercken kan, daß die Dissonanzen insgemein stärcker und die
Consonanzen schwächer gespielt werden, weil jene die Leidenschafften mit
Nachdruck erheben und die solche beruhigen.91
How ‘good’ a dissonance should or can be played, then, basically depended on its
context, its Affekt and its kind, this individualization of a dissonance’s strength or
expression being mentioned by several authors, albeit without consensus. Kirnberger
saw, for instance, a difference in emotional impact between the ninth and the fourth:
suspensions can act as a powerful stimulus to the ear because of their disso-
nant quality, and can even awaken, where required, a noticeable feeling of
unrest. Thus they contribute to the perfection of the steady flow of music as
well as to its expression or power. The ninth is more intense than the fourth
in both respects, since by its nature it is very dissonant against the octave,
while the fourth is dissonant only insofar as it disrupts the sensation of the
beautiful harmony of the triad, which contains the third and fifth.
die Vorhalte wegen ihrer dißonirenden Eigenschaft auch das Gehör in einer
starken Reitzung erhalten können, und so gar, wo es nöthig ist, merkliche
Unruhe erwecken, also dienen sie beydes zur Vollkommenheit des abge-
meßenen Sanges, und zum Ausdruck oder der Kraft der Musik. Beydes
scheinet durch die None stärker, als durch die Quarte zu geschehen, weil
sie ihrer Natur nach stark gegen die Octave dißonirt, da die Quarte nur in
so fern dißonirt, als sie das Gefühl der schönen Harmonie des Dreyklanges,
darinn die Terz und Quinte sind, zerstöhret.92
91. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 130; English translation in Mitchell, 1949/1951: 163 (words between brackets:
my English translation). Quantz gave a quasi identical guideline (Quantz, 1752: 227).
Alternatively, Quantz, providing a complete classification of discords with regard to

their intensity of expression, similarly described both the ninth and the fourth simply
as ‘not so harsh’ (sind dem Gehöre nicht so empfindlich/ne sont pas si sensibles à l’oreille).93
As for Carl Philipp Emanuel, he renounced categorization altogether because:
It is not really possible to determine the cases in which forte and piano are
appropriate, because even the best rules suffer exceptions as numerous as
the cases which they establish.
Es ist nicht wohl möglich, die Fälle zu bestimmen, wo forte oder piano statt hat,
weil auch die besten Regeln eben so viel Ausnahmen leiden als die festsetzen.94
Mattheson did not engage in a description of Affekt or dynamic of each dissonance

either. Summing up what he considered the most important features about disso-
nances, Mattheson just stated that:
Third, the three most important dissonances are the second, fourth and
seventh.
Drittens hat unter den dreien vornehmsten Dissonantzien, Secund, Quart

und Sept.95
Despite the general agreement to perform dissonances more loudly than conso-
nances, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach provided another, rather bold, directive, which
puts this principle somewhat into perspective:
One can, if necessary, also note this rule, which is not without foundation,
that all tones of a melody which lie outside the key easily tolerate forte,
regardless of whether they are consonances or dissonances, and on the
other hand, those which lie within the key may well be performed piano,
regardless of their consonance or dissonance.
Man kan allenfalls auch diese Regel mercken, welche nicht ohne Grund ist,
daß die Töne eines Gesangs, welche ausser der Leiter ihrer Ton-Art sind,
gerne das forte vertragen, ohne Absicht, ob es Con- oder Dissonanzen
sind, und daß gegentheils die Töne, welche in der Leiter ihrer moduliren-
den Ton-Art stehen, gerne piano gespielt werden, sie mögen consoniren
oder dissoniren.96
Arnold, 1931/2003: 408.
94. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 129-130; English translation in Arnold, 1931/2003: 413.
96. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 130; my English translation.
On Metre 65
The juxtaposition and evaluation of the directives of Walther, Mattheson, Quantz,

Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Kirnberger suggest the following interpretations for
strong-beat dissonances and their resolutions:
1. Contrary to what Quantz advocated, the degree of emphasis for those disso-
nances could best be left to the harpsichordist’s judgment.
2. When an on-beat suspended dissonance and its weak-beat resolution ‘lie within
the key’, it is unusual not to perform the dissonance with emphasis and louder
than its resolution.
3. When an on-beat dissonance lying ‘within the key’ is followed by a weak-beat
resolution lying ‘outside the key’, a performer can treat this progression in two
different ways depending on the Affekt and on the peculiarity of the accidental.
Firstly, he could play the resolution at least as strongly or as emphatically as the
dissonance. Consider example 6.
& b C ÏÏ Ï Ïú Ï Ï #ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï Ïú Ï nÏ #ÏÏ

49 50
Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï™ ÏÏÏ
? b C ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï
ä ÏJ
™
{ ä J
The first beat and the first half of the second beat of bar 49 in Contrapunctus 11
propose a progression in F major with arrival on the tonic chord in the middle of
the bar containing a 9‑8 suspension. The latter does not resolve, however, to the
expected f1 but to f©1, yielding an abrupt modulation to G major. Therefore, this
f©1 possibly requires a more affirmative performance than it would have needed
had it been a f(ª)1, in order to clarify and underline the tonal organization of this
passage. (A similar voice-leading is used one bar later to modulate to A minor.)
Secondly, he could play the dissonance stronger than its resolution lying ‘outside
the key’ when, for instance, the latter occurs in a thinner texture than the former,
as occurs in bar 66a of example 7:
Ï Ï ä Ïj Ï #Ï Ï n Ï #Ï n Ï Ï #Ï
66
Ï nÏÏ nÏ
65
& b C nÏ Ï #Ï nÏ Ï ä #ÏJ Ï
Ï Ï #Ï n Ï Ï #Ï n Ï
?bC Ï nÏ
Ï #Ï Ï Ï #Ï
{ Î î Î ä J
In this case, the weak resolution also works nicely because of the presence of the
anapaest during this progression, which by its nature has an impetuous start fol-
lowed by an energy decrease.
The performance of weak-beat dissonant chords resolving on the following strong

beat – these are basically weak-beat essential and inauthentic sevenths – can upset
the regularity of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes considerably more. From the directives and
examples in Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s and Quantz’s treatises it becomes clear
that they generally intended a dissonant chord to be performed louder than a conso-
nance regardless of its metric position, at times even in an extreme way. Example 8
illustrates how Quantz indicated piano for the downbeats of bars 32‑34, while the
preceding ‘worse’, third beats are to be performed fortissimo, forte and mezzo forte,
respectively, according to his categorization of dissonances.
b Ï Ï Ï n Ï34 Ï
Aﬀettuoso di molto
b 3 Ï Ï ÙÏ Ï ÏJ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï J
31 32 33 j
b
& b4
? bb 3 Ïtd Ï Ïyf Ï Ïsr7 Ï Ïid Ï Ïy Ïyg Ï Ïy' 'E Ïyg' 'E ÏÏ

{ b4
m:f: f: ﬀ: p: m:f: f: p: m:f: p:
Example 8: Quantz, 1752: Tab. XXIV, bars 31-34a.
While the wide dynamic range of Quantz’s galant style obviously does not make
sense in Baroque harpsichord polyphony, the very concept of dissonance and res-
olution still involves tension followed by relaxation. Consequently, I would argue
that a weak-beat dissonant chord necessitates a more affirmative performance than
On Metre 67
a weak-beat consonant chord; even if one plays in both cases the following strong
beat equally well, the latter will appear less strong after a (somewhat) emphasized
weak-beat dissonant chord, thereby better respecting their harmonic relationship.
One should not, however, confound a weak-beat dissonant chord, which can be
emphasized, with a weak-beat (dissonant) melodic embellishment (passing note,
neighbour note, anticipation, échappée), which is usually played softly, and thus has
no influence on the quality of the following strong beat. Compare both excerpts
from the following example.
Ï w Ï w
& b c úú ú™
80 81 80 81
ú ú ú ú
™
ú ú ú
? b c Ïú™ Ï Ï ú #Ï ú Ï úÏ Ï Ïw Ï Ï ú ú Ï úÏ Ï
Ï Ï
{ iv 4 -3
vii° i iv4 -3
(ii°6 ) i
Example 9: Contrapunctus 14, bars 80-81, original & alternative version.
In example 9a I have reproduced example 4a, an illustration of a weak-beat, inau-

thentic diminished seventh chord followed by a strong-beat tonic triad, while exam-
ple 9b proposes an alternative version without the diminished seventh.
It could appear as if the weak part of the second beat of bar 80 does represent a
dissonant chord in version b in the form of ii°6 containing a tritone bb‑e2. The chord
of ii° and its inversions in a minor key, however, were not considered dissonant in
Bach’s time. Marpurg discussed it in his chapter on consonant chords and called it
an ‘inauthentic or anomalous harmonic triad’ (uneigentlicher oder anomalischer harmon-
ischer Dreyklang),97 while Kirnberger simply listed it among the consonant chords.98
As for Mattheson and Sorge, the latter literally citing the former, they claimed that a
diminished triad ‘has all the characteristics of a consonant’ (hat alle Merckmahle einer
Consonanz).99 Moreover, in its context, the e2 works as a passing note connecting the
subdominant chord to the tonic chord rather than as the root of ii°6. In fact, there
is nothing in this version which could disturb the regularity of the ‘good’ and the
‘bad’ notes. Firstly, the Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum applies to the level of the minims.
The downbeat of bar 80 contains a suspension which resolves on the second, ‘bad’,
97. Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): 27; my English translation.

98. Kirnberger, 1771: 33.
99. Mattheson, 1735: 180 & Sorge, 1745-1747: 19; English translation in Arnold, 1931/2003: 275.
minim, and the next downbeat, presenting a D minor triad, is followed by a lighter
D minor sixth chord on the second beat. Secondly, each even-numbered crotchet
stands in the shadow of its preceding odd-numbered crotchet: on the weak parts of
the beats an embellishment of the suspension and three dissonant passing notes,
respectively, occur. On the other hand, the original version upsets this exemplary
metric distribution by inserting a weak-beat, inauthentic diminished seventh chord
in between the subdominant and tonic chord. Since the resolution of the seventh is
postponed until the following downbeat, the latter arguably requires a somewhat
milder performance compared to the one in my alternative version without losing its
‘good-beat quality’, though.
Example 10 illustrates, however, that the difference between a dissonant passing
note and a weak-beat dissonant chord can occasionally be very small or even debatable.
73 74
& b c Ïw Ï ú Ï
w
? b c y úÏ™ Ï Ï Ï nÏÏ w
ú
{
Does one see the last crotchets in the tenor and bass of bar 73 as two unempha-
sized passing notes or rather as a weak-beat half-diminished seventh chord? I favour
the second interpretation not only because the eª simply ‘lies outside the key’ but
mainly because, in my opinion, this note is harmonically too important to be merely
regarded as a passing note – it establishes a secondary dominant. Nevertheless, its
passing quality probably implies less emphasis than, for instance, the diminished
seventh chord in example 9a, which was introduced via a leap in the bass.
Certain harmonic progressions involving a weak-beat dissonant chord and a
strong-beat resolution imply less (or even no) relaxation, the most typical case
undoubtedly being the deceptive cadence V7‑vi or V7‑VI. Although not specifi-
cally referring to this very cadence, Scheibe actually included all kinds of irregular
cadences in his discussion of the musical-rhetorical figure ellipsis, from which we
can deduce that he required all their arrival chords to be performed with more Affekt
than if the expected chords would have been written:
On Metre 69
The next figure is the suppression or ellipsis, or the breaking off of a pas-
sage which one only begins but does not completely finish. It occurs in two
forms. First, one can suddenly break off and remain silent in the middle of a
passage in a vehement affection. Or one can alter the expected ending notes
of a passage and proceed to a completely foreign and unexpected chord.
This second method composers call evading the cadence. The more vehe-
ment the affection, the more foreign the chord must be which alters the
expected cadence.
Die IIIte ist das Verbeißen, (Ellipsis,) oder das Abbrechen eines Satzes, den
man nur anhebet, aber nocht völlig endiget. Sie geschieht auf zweyerley Art.
Erstlich, wenn man in dem heftigsten Affecte und mitten in einem angefan-
genen Satze unvermuthet abbricht und stille hält, endlich aber mit einem
ganz fremden Gedanken aufs neue wieder anhebt. Oder auch, wenn man
am Schlusse eines Satzes den gewöhnlichen Schlußton verändert, und in
einen ganz fremden und unerwarteten Accord fällt. Dieses letztere nennen
die Componisten: das Ausfliehen der Cadenz. Je heftiger aber der Affect ist,
oder seyn soll, desto fremder muß auch der Accord seyn, in den man die
gewöhnliche Cadenz verändert.100
As for Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, leaving the specific concept of deceptive cadences
untreated, he still stated that:
A special momentum of the ideas, which is to arouse a powerful Affekt, must
be expressed strongly. One therefore plays the so-called deceptions gene-
rally forte, because they are often introduced for that reason.
Ein besonderer Schwung der Gedancken, welcher einen hefftigen

Affeckt erregen soll, muß starck ausgedruckt werden. Die so genannten
Betrügereyen spielt man dahero, weil sie offte deßwegen angebracht wer-
den, gemeiniglich forte.101
While both Scheibe and Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach adhered to other musical ide-
als than those of Johann Sebastian Bach, playing harmonic surprises ‘better’ than
regular progressions obviously goes beyond style. Therefore, the unexpectedness of
the sixth degree on the strong beat of bar 175 of Contrapunctus 11 makes it advisable to
emphasize it more than if the expected first degree had been written, notwithstand-
ing that it functions as a consonant resolution:
100. Scheibe, 1745: 687; English translation in Bartel, 1997: 250.

Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ
174 175
& b C Ï™ Ï
J
Ï Ï Î
? b C # ÏÏ ™ Ï
#ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï
{ J Ï
V7 VI
When a non-essential dissonance on a weak part of a beat resolves on an even weaker

part of that beat, the possible emphasizing of the former should logically have no
influence on the (perception of the) quality of the ‘good’ note following the resolu-
tion, the metric irregularity having been straightened out within the weak part of the
beat. To illustrate this point, example 12 proposes, next to the original bars 79‑80a of
Contrapunctus 11, an alternative, metrically regular version of bar 79 as well.
Î
79
ÏÏÏ Ï
80
Ï™ 79
Î Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï™
80
&b C Ï Î î Î Ï Î î Î
Ïj Ï Ï# Ïj ÏÏj Ï Ï Ï
j ÏÏ Ï Ïj Ï Ï# Ïj ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï
?bC Ï Ï
{
Example 12: Contrapunctus 11, bars 79-80a, original & alternative version.
One can assess experimentally that a similarly emphasized and strong performance
of the downbeat of bar 80 in both versions works well, regardless of whether the
fourth crotchet of bar 79 includes a weak-beat non-essential dissonance.
On many occasions, and occurring both from a ‘good’ to a ‘bad’ beat and vice
versa, a dissonance resolves into a new dissonance, or the resolution of the dis-
sonance becomes a chord factor of a new dissonant chord. Needless to say these
successive dissonances demand more careful consideration than individual disso-
nances; a keyboard player not only has to decide on the degree of emphasis for each
dissonance but must also judge how these relate to each other. Consider example 13.
T 221
#ÏnÏ ÏÏ#Ï#ÏÏ Ï nÏ
& b c Ïú
Ï Ï úú #ÏÏ##ÏÏ ú™ Ï
220 220 221
w w
™
ÏÏú nÏ z wÏ ™ #Ï#Ï ú ú™ nÏ nwú #ú
? cw w
{ b
Example 13: Contrapunctus 14, bars 220-221, original & rhythmic reduction.
On Metre 71
Clarified by the rhythmic reduction, these bars contain four successive dissonances,
of which the first two resolutions are accompanied by a new dissonance in another
voice, and of which the third ‘resolution’ becomes a suspension of the third. The
first simultaneity of a resolution and a dissonance in another voice occurs in the
middle of bar 220 where, on the one hand, the 4‑3 suspension resolves (soprano)
and, on the other hand, the seventh is added to the chord (alto). Yet since the sev-
enth functions merely as a passing note, emphasis does not seem appropriate, rather
playing both the resolution of the 4‑3 suspension and the seventh as ‘bad’ notes.
This dominant seventh chord resolves to another dominant seventh chord on the
last crotchet of bar 220. In my opinion, one needs to play the latter, a third inversion
whose root, third and fifth ‘lie outside the key’, quite firmly, and, in any case, with
more emphasis than the first dominant seventh chord. The third and last occurrence
in example 13 of two consecutive dissonances in two consecutive chords is some-
what more complex than the former two, its performance issue being how to play the
downbeat of bar 221. Does one consider the bass suspension of the third within the
sixth chord on that beat more or less powerful than the preceding weak-beat domi-
nant seventh chord in third inversion? I have already proposed that the application of
Quantz’s rules, in this case claiming that a dominant seventh chord should be per-
formed more loudly than the fourth in a 4‑3 suspension, seems unsuited to Bach’s
keyboard polyphony. While the degree of emphasis for the downbeat of bar 221, and
its relation to the former dissonant chord, entirely depends on the performer’s judg-
ment, the fact that Bach did not tie both bªs in the tenor could still hint at a fairly
affirmative execution of bar 221a.102
Whereas the former example leaves at least some interpretative room, the nature
of certain progressions including successive dissonances, suggests more strongly
only one manner of performing. Firstly, when a suspension resolves into the prepa-
ration for a new suspension, I would argue that both notes need emphasizing:103
102. The argument that Bach did not tie both bªs for melodic reasons does not stand up. Compare this,
for instance, with example 14, displaying a highly ‘unmusical’ tenor line from Contrapunctus 4.
85
Ï nÏ Ï Ï b ú 86
Ï Ï™ Ï
87
? C J Ï Ï
b
Example 14: Contrapunctus 4, bars 85-87a (only tenor).
103. For more detailed and technical information on how to achieve this on a keyboard, see the next
chapter.
& b C Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï bÏ Ïj Ïj Ï Ï
44 45
J J Ï
Ï
? C{Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ # Ï
{ b
Example 15: Canon per Augmentationem in Contrario Motu, bars 44-45a.
Secondly, it would be highly unlikely not to interpret the diminished seventh on the
weak part of the second beat in each excerpt of example 16 as being more powerful
than the suspension of the third in the middle of the bar.
& b C #ÏÏ Ïú nÏ n#ÏÏ Ï c Ï ÎÎ Îî #Ï Ï

75 76 205 206
ÏÏ Ï
ú Î ú Ï nÏÏ ™
? b C Ï Ï Ï Ï bÏÏ ÏÏ c #ÏÏ ™ #ÏJ ú
{ nÏ Ï
Example 16: Contrapunctus 11, bars 75-76a; Contrapunctus 14, bars 205-206a.
Thirdly, when several similar dissonances alternate with each other on ‘good’ and
‘bad’ beats, as in a circle of fifths, it seems the most suitable to emphasize each dis-
sonant simply in accordance with its Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum:
Ï ·Ï Ï Ï ÏÏú ·
46 47
&b C Ï Ï ÏÏ
Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ™ Ï ÏÏ Ï ú Ï
? C Ï™ #Ï ™ nÏ #Ï Ï
{ b J J J
While all these examples illustrated how the emphasizing of certain chords can
enhance but not change metre, occasionally the positioning of a dissonant chord
and its resolution does cause severe metric ambiguity or even actually yields the
(temporary) perception of a new metre. This typically occurs, as can be seen from
example 18, when a weak-beat non-essential dissonance resolves on the following
strong beat within the same chord.
On Metre 73
68 69 70
& b C #úÏ Ï Ï Ïú#Ï Ï Ï úú

67
úÏ bÏ Ï Ï #ÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï #ÏÏ™ Ï Ïn Ï
Ï Ï #Ï Ï J
? b C úÏ Ï Ï #Ï ú Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ïw Ï Ï ú úw
{ ÏÏú ÏÏ ÏÏÏÏú
Note that the shift of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ minims also applies to bar 68b‑69a of this
example because the soprano’s suspension in bar 69a is a ‘weak-beat’ non-essential
suspension of a neighbour six-four chord resolving on the following crotchet. (In
fact, it is no coincidence that the pedal point d in the bass does not start on a down-
beat but on the second half of bar 68, further clarifying the function of the latter as
a ‘good’ beat.)
A ‘change’ of metre can also occur due to the aberrant length of the segments
within a sequential pattern, whether or not combined with a non-essential disso-
nance at the beginning of each segment:
&b c w · · · î Ï
30 31 32 33
ÏbÏ Ï Ï ú ú ÏÏÏ Ï Ï™ J
Ï
? b c ú Ï Ï Ï ÏÏÏ Ï ú Ï ÏÏÏ
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
{ Ï Ï #ú ú Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï ú
bÏ nÏ#Ï83 ú Ï Ï Ïú Ï Ï Ï
& b Ïú ÏnÏ#Ï úÏ Ï Ï Ï Ïú Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Î ä Ï
81 82
Ï bú Ï Ï
? b Ïú Ï Ï Ï úÏ #Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï #ÏÏ Ï Ïú Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï™ nÏJ
{
Example 19: Contrapunctus 5, bars 30-33a & 81-83.
•
Contrary to the general consensus on the simple duple and quadruple metres with
regard to the distribution of ‘good’ and ’bad’ notes, the view on how to organize
metrically the principle beats of triple metres, whether simple or compound, is
less unanimous. 104 Although all theorists clearly agreed on a strong first beat, they
formulated different opinions with regard to the second and third beats. Firstly,
Walther asserted that:
When … the number of the numerator is 3 (as occurs in triple metres),
amongst three notes of equal length, the first one is long, the middle one
short and the third one can be both.
Ist … die Zahl 3 der Theiler (wie im tripel-tacten geschicht,) so ist unter
dreyen gleich geltenden Noten, die erste lang, die mittlere kurtz, die dritte
kann beydes seyn.105
He only allowed a strong second beat when:

a triple-metre bar consists of only two notes, … so that the bigger note value
occurs last.
ein tripel-tact nur aus zweyen Noten bestehet, … so da die größere Note
zuletzt stehet.106
Secondly, Johann David Heinichen gave the following rule:

The notes from which each triple meter takes its name, have this characte-
ristic ratione quantitatis intrinsecae: that each time the first [note] is inherently
long while the second and third are inherently short.
Die Noten, von welchen jedweder Tripel sich nennet, haben ratione quantitatis
intrinsecæ dieses besonders, daß jederzeit die erste virtualiter lang, die andere
und dritte aber beyde virtualiter kurtz seynd.107
Marpurg held the same view as Heinichen:

Every first beat of a triple metre is good, while the second and third beats
are false.
104. The approach to determine the quantitas intrinseca of the subdivisions of simple triple metres is of
course identical to that of simple duple and quadruple metres.
105. Walther, 1708/1955: 23; my English translation.
106. Ibid.: 24.
107. Heinichen, 1728: 293, footnote q; English translation in Buelow, 1966: 114.
On Metre 75
Uebrigens fällt der gute Tacttheil allhier [von den einfachen ungeraden
Tactarten] auf den ersten Theil, und die beyden übrigen Theile machen fal-
sche Tacttheile aus.
Tout premier tems de cette mesure ternaire est bon, & le second & troisième sont
faux.108
Finally, Kirnberger formulated yet another principle:

These triple meters have the common element that, in each, three beats are
felt per measure, the first of which is always [long], the third [short]. The
second can be [long] or [short], depending on the nature of the piece. That
is, it is usually [long] in ponderous meters and in serious pieces, as in cha-
connes and many sarabandes; but in light meters this second beat is [light].
Diese Tripeltaktarten kommen alle darin mit einander überein, daß man
bey jeder drey Zeiten auf den Tackt fühlet, davon die erste allezeit lang, die
dritte kurz ist. Die Zweyte kann, nach Beschaffenheit des Stücks lang, oder
kurz seyn. Nemlich in schweren Taktarten und ernsthaften Stücken wird
sie gewöhnlich lang, wie in den Chaconnen und in vielen Sarabanden: in
leichten Taktarten aber wird diese zweyte Zeit leicht.109
However troublesome and contradictory these precepts may appear, the fact that
great musicians like Walther, Heinichen and Kirnberger formulated different rules
for the Quantitas Intrinseca of certain notes in certain metres rather confirms, in my
opinion, what was already clear from Kirnberger’s discussion on metre – that the
concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes included far more shadings than simply ‘good’
or ‘bad,’ thus somehow reconciling their opposing theories. I believe, as Ludger
Lohmann in his book Die Artikulation auf den Tasteninstrumenten des 16-18. Jahrhunderts
asserts as well, that the most convincing way of judging whether or not a second or
third beat is ‘good’ (and if it is, how ‘good’), is by analyzing the harmonic rhythm
per bar.110 In fact, this method also reveals that metric organization not only can
vary between different pieces with the same time signature but also within one
108. Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung): 21-22 & Marpurg, 1756: 25; my English translation. In 1755 Marpurg
published his Anleitung zum Clavierspielen of which he himself made a French translation which was
issued one year later as Principes du clavecin.
109. Kirnberger, 1776: 131; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 397. Beach and Thym sys-
tematically translated lang by ‘accented’ and kurz by ‘unaccented’. However, as we saw above,
Kirnberger made a distinction between note’s length and accent. Furthermore, they translated
leicht by ‘weak’.
110. Lohmann, 1990: 57.
composition, which further underlines that metre was treated anything but rigidly
then.
It is unlikely that, when a bar contains only one chord, the second or/and third
beat can be viewed as ‘good;’ rather, those beats stand in the shadow of the first:
3 Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï
46
b
& 2Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ï ÏÏ
Î Ï
? b 3 Ïú Ï Ï Ï #Ï ÏÎ Ï Ï Ï
{ 2
i
Example 20: Contrapunctus 12 (forma recta), bar 46.
When a chord change occurs on the third beat, I would argue that it cannot be viewed
merely as the result of the first, ‘good’ beat’s impetus. Although the third beat can
still be played lightly as a fairly ‘bad’ beat, the introduction of a new chord gives it at
least some metric weight:
& b 23 w™
50
ú™
Ï ÏÏÏ Ï
ú Ï nÏ# Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
? b 3 ú™ Ï Ï #Ï Ï nÏ Ï
{ 2
i6 V6
Example 21: Contrapunctus 12 (forma recta), bar 50.
When a chord change occurs on the second beat and is maintained throughout the
third beat, the second beat will most likely act as ‘good’ (or at least ‘semi-good’) beat
while the third, ‘bad’ beat ‘belongs’ to the former:
& b 23 · ·
8 9
· ·
Ï
? b 3 úÏ Ï Ï ú™ Ï nÏÏ Ï úÏ ™ Ï Ï#ú ™ bÏ Ï nÏÏ Ï
™
{ 2
Ù Ù
i III6 VI/III V6
Example 22: Contrapunctus 12 (forma recta), bars 8-9.

On Metre 77
(As we saw above, Walther described this kind of triple-metre bar consisting of only
two notes, of which the one with the bigger note value occurs last.)
The main beats of a triple metre can be harmonically organized in one more way,
that is with a different chord on each beat, suggesting both the second as well as the
third beat to be played (somewhat) ‘better’ than when the same chord is maintained
throughout the bar, how ‘good’ mainly depending on their degree of dissonance.
With regard to example 23, I would perform the third beat more affirmatively than
the second beat because the former includes an accented passing note.
& b 23 · ·
7 8
· ·
Ï Ï úÏ nÏ núÏ úÏ ™
? b 3 #ú #Ï
{ 2
V6 i V6 i
Example 23: Contrapunctus 12 (forma recta), bars 7-8a.
Opinions also diverge among theorists with regard to the metric hierarchy of the
subdivisions of the beats within compound metres. We already saw how Heinichen
defined ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes in relation to the denominator of the metre’s fraction.
This implies that, for instance, in a 9/8 metre the first, fourth and seventh quavers
are to be performed as inherently long beats, while all the other quavers should be
inherently short, an opinion Marpurg again adhered to as well.111
Kirnberger, on the other hand, criticized systematically playing the subdivisions
in 9/8 as ‘bad’; as a consequence of this rule, this metre did not sound any different
from a 3/4 metre with quaver triplets:
He who has only a moderate command of performance knows that triplets

in 3/4 meter are played differently from eights in 9/8 meter. The former are
played very lightly and without the slightest pressure on the last note, but
the latter heavier and with some weight on the last note. The former never
or only rarely permit a harmony to be sounded with the last note, but the
latter do very often. … If the two meters were not distinguished by special
111. Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung): 22-23 & Marpurg, 1756, 26-27.

qualities, all gigues in 6/8 could also be written in 2/4; 12/8 would be a C
meter, and 6/8 a 2/4 meter.
Wer nur einigermaaßen den Vortrag in seiner Gewalt hat, weiß, daß Triolen
in dem 3/4 Takt anders vorgetragen werden, als Achtel in dem 9/8 Takt.
Jene werden ganz leicht und ohne den geringsten Druck auf der letzten
Note, diese hingegen schwerer und mit etwas Gewicht auf der letzten Note
vorgetragen. Jene vertragen gar nicht oder doch selten eine anschlagende
Harmonie auf der letzten Note, diese hingegen sehr oft. … Wären beyde
Taktarten nicht durch besondere Eigenschaften von einander unterschie-
den, so müsten alle Giquen im 6/8 auch in den 2/4 Takt versetzt werden
können, der 12/8 wäre ein C Takt, under 6/8 ein 2/4 Takt.112
These differences of view on the possible weight not only of the beats but also of
their subdivisions in compound metres mainly makes us, once more, dependent
on harmonic analysis to clarify the metric organization, which, similarly to that of
simple metres, could change in the course of a composition. In the Canon alla Ottava,
for instance, Bach exhaustively exploited the metric possibilities of the compound
metre 9/16, both with regard to the main beats as well as to their subdivisions. Since
I have already discussed how the principal beats of triple metres can represent vari-
ous arrangements of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes, I limit myself here to elaborating on
the subdivisions, whose possible metric hierarchies, as will become clear from what
follows, are actually identical to those of the principal beats.
Bars 58‑59 illustrate two different metric dispositions of the subdivisions of a beat:
9 Ï Å ÏJ Å ÏJ Å Ï #Ï Ï Ï
58 59
& b 16 J
ÏÏ Ï Ï
Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
?b 9
{ 16
i iv VII 7 III VI7 ii (°) V 7 i6 (i)
Example 24: Canon alla Ottava, bars 58-59a.
Firstly, the first beat of bar 58 contains only one A minor chord, so that the chord
factors e1 and c1 in the left hand, the second and third semiquavers of that beat, act
as ‘bad’ notes in relation to the first semiquaver a1. The same metric arrangement

On Metre 79
occurs on the second beat of bar 59, while in this case two chord factors are sepa-
rated by a passing note (left hand). Secondly, the second and third beats of bar 58,
and the first beat of bar 59 each consist of two chords, the second chord being intro-
duced each time on the second semiquaver. The latter chords thus work as ‘good’ (or
‘semi-good’) subdivisions requiring (at least some) emphasis.
All three beats of bar 50 display a third possibility concerning the metric organi-
zation of the subdivisions of the compound triple metre’s principal beats:
Ï
9 Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï
50
b
& 16
Ï Ï Ï
?b 9 Ï Ï Ï
{ 16
i VI VII iii VI iv
Example 25: Canon alla Ottava, bar 50.
They also incorporate two chords, the second chord, however, occurring now on
the third semiquaver. According to Kirnberger, this harmonic distribution implies
the third semiquaver of this beat, compared to a third tripled subdivison of a beat in
a simple triple metre, to be played ‘heavier and with some weight on the last note’.
Although the fourth and last alternative for the metric distribution within a com-
pound metre’s beat, three chords on three successive semiquavers, is rare in as quick
a metre as 9/16, we do find it in bar 21:113
9 Ï
21
& b 16 Ï ÏÏ
Ï #Ï Ï
? b 9 nÏ
{ 16
i IV 6 vii° i
Example 26: Canon alla Ottava, bar 21a.
Both the second and third semiquavers, therefore, should probably be played ‘with
some weight.’
113. Since the second and third semiquavers in both hands contribute to consonant and correct harmonic
progressions, I do not find it credible to view them merely as two successive passing notes.
(In order to allow a clear perception of this metric diversity, the choice and approach
of tempo is obviously vital. Although a 9/16 metre can be played, as described by
Kirnberger, ‘extremely quickly and lightly’ (äusserst lebhaft und leicht),114 one should
still strongly control it and hold a firm grip on the tempo. If one plays this canon
solely as a fast, virtuoso-like étude, not only will its multitude of metric arrangements
be lost, but it is, moreover, possible that audible grammatical mistakes will occur.
The most obvious of these performance errors would be playing the subdivisions of
beats which require some emphasis merely as ‘bad’ notes.
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏÏ™™™ ÏÏ ™™ ÏÏ ™
?b 9 Ï Ï J ÏJ Ï™
75
16 J
™ ™
? b 9 Ï Å Ï Å Ï Å Ï ™ Ï™ Ï ™
{ 16 J J J J J J
iv 2 III 2 ii° 2
Example 27: Canon alla Ottava, bar 75, original & incorrect rhythmic reduction.
For instance, if one performed bar 75 as if each beat consisted of only one chord
instead of, as it should be, with a chord change on the second subdivision of each
beat, this would yield incorrect harmonic progressions and unacceptable consecu-
tives, as the rhythmic reduction in example 27 shows.115)
Besides the regular compound metres, Kirnberger further mentioned one particular,
more interpretative kind of compound metre, intended to avoid accentuating each
downbeat too systematically:
In duple as well as in triple meter, there are melodies in which it is obvious
that whole measures are alternatively strong and weak, so that a whole
measure is heard as only one beat. If the melody is of such a nature that
the entire measure is felt as only one beat, two measures must be grouped

115. Peter Schleuning, on the other hand, sees no problem in analyzing bar 75 as consisting of three one-
chord beats, speaking of ‘a parallel progression of seventh chords in third inversion’ (Parallelzug in
Sekundenakkorden; Schleuning, 1993: 147).
On Metre 81
together to form just one, whose first part is [long] and the other [short]. If
this contraction were not to occur, the result would be a melody consisting
only of [strong] beats, because of the necessary weight of the downbeat.
This would be as unpleasant as a sentence in speech consisting entirely of
one-syllable words, each of which had an accent.
Es giebt so wohl in dem geraden Tackt von zwey Zeiten als in dem Tripeltackt
Melodien, in denen offenbar ganze Tackte wechselsweise von schweren und
leichtem Gewichte sind, so daß man einen ganzen Tackt nur wie eine Zeit
fühlet. Wenn die Melodie so beschaffen ist, daß man den ganzen Tackt nur
als eine einzige Zeit fühlet, so müssen nothwendig zwey Takte zusammen
genommen werden, um nur einen auszumachen, dessen erster Theil lang,
der andre kurz ist. Denn wenn dieses Zusammenziehen nicht geschähe,
so würde man, wegen der nothwendigen Schwere des Niederschlages,
eine Melodie von lauter schweren Schlägen bekommen, welches eben so
wiedrig wäre, als eine Periode der Rede, die aus lauter einsylbigen Wörtern
bestünde, deren jedes einen Accent hätte.116
He was undoubtedly referring to a passage like the following one:
Ï Ï Î Ï Î Ï ÏÏ Ï úú Î bÏ ÏÏ Ï ú
& Ï Ï ÏnÏ úú
53 54 55 56
b C äbÏ Ï Ï úú ä ä ú
ÏÏ
?bC ú ä Ï ÏÏ bÏ úú ä Ï ÏÏ Ï ú ä Ï Ï úú äb Ï ÏÏ Ï
ú ú
{ Î Î Î Î
Needless to say, accenting the downbeat of each bar of this sequential pattern would
cause too monotonous a speech. For that matter it would appear that Bach actually
anticipated this danger. By means of an octave displacement in both hands in bar 55
he arguably made it clear to the keyboard player that this sequential pattern consists
of two-bar rather than one-bar segments, in which the even-numbered bars are ‘bad’
in relation to the odd-numbered.
With this chapter I hope to have shown how the concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes
formed an essential part of Baroque music aesthetics, and, specifically, how it ensures
116. Kirnberger, 1776: 131; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 398. Again, Beach and Thym
translated lang by ‘accented’ and kurz by ‘unaccented’. Moreover, they translated schweren Schlägen
by ‘accented beats’.
a clearly pronounced performance of the Art of Fugue today. This metric framework,
however, is not to be applied dogmatically. A performer can, and still should, alter,
or even temporarily abandon, the regular Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum when the com-
position suggests it for reasons of making the discourse more eloquent. Although
unusual note value and register choices play their role, a metric irregularity mainly
comes as a consequence of an unexpected harmonic context.
On Metre 83
3.
On Articulation,
Fingering, Technique
and Gradation of Tone
A lthough we possess some information regarding Bach’s keyboard articulation,

fingering, technique and sound production, many questions remain, which will
always remain unanswered. In order to find some plausible ‘replies’, the treatises of
his colleagues, students and admirers are again obviously an important source of
information. Furthermore, we can gain more insight into the particularity of ‘the Bach
technique’ by studying keyboard articulation and fingering from the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, since those traditions (and compositions!) were still present in
eighteenth-century Europe and, more particularly, in Bach’s entourage. Additionally,
where keyboard tutors often formulate rather vague or ambiguous guidelines, wind
and string treatises can help to clarify certain aspects of articulation.
This chapter consists of two parts. The first part proposes a frame of reference for
the inquiry into Bach’s keyboard technique. It does not intend, therefore, to provide
a complete survey of articulation, fingering, tonguing and bowing in Baroque (and
early-classical) Europe, but merely wishes to touch upon the most important princi-
ples relevant to Bach. Firstly, the relationship between playing and articulation tech-
niques on string, wind and keyboard instruments and the Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum
will be pointed out. Secondly, since German Baroque musicians, Bach included,
were highly influenced by their Italian and French colleagues, it is necessary to inves-
tigate whether or not this impact also included keyboard technical aspects.117 Against
117. Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach explained to Forkel that his father knew and studied the works of
Girolamo Frescobaldi, Johann Jacob Froberger, Johann Caspar Kerll, Johann Pachelbel, Johann
Caspar Ferdinand Fischer, Nicolaus Adam Strunck, Dietrich Buxtehude, Johann Adam Reincken,
the background of keyboard fingering in Italy and France, therefore, I conclude the
first part of this chapter with a discussion of the most important characteristics of
German fingering, whilst evaluating how far these foreign musical influences were
specifically integrated into eighteenth-century German keyboard playing technique.
The second part elaborates on keyboard technique (position of fingers and hands,
striking of the keys) and its implications for articulation and fingering (the use of the
thumb versus paired fingering) in relation to Bach, to his keyboard works and, more
specifically, to the Art of Fugue.
Background
As set out in the preceding chapter, the application of the concept of Quantitas
Intrinseca Notarum to Baroque performance practice was basically realized by link-
ing the metric hierarchy to articulation and gradation of tone. For singers, string
and wind players, this difference between a ‘good’ and a ‘bad’ note is easily realized
thanks to their ability to articulate as well as to play dynamically, whether or not with
a degree of inégalité.118 On the clavichord as well, albeit on a lower dynamic level, the
difference with regard to volume can be carried out convincingly. On the harpsi-
chord and the organ, however, the dynamic range remains somewhat more limited,
so that one has to rely primarily upon articulation, possibly also in combination with
inégalité, although the strength of touch plays its part as well.119
Nicolaus Bruhns, Georg Böhm and ‘some old and good Frenchmen’ (einigen alten guten französischen;
BD III, no. 803: 288; English translation in NBR, no. 395: 398). According to Marpurg and Ernst
Ludwig Gerber, Bach had a particular high regard for François Couperin (Marpurg, 1750: Preface;
Gerber, 1790: 307). Indeed, during his entire life, Johann Sebastian Bach showed a great interest
in the works of both German and foreign composers. His library included many German keyboard
compositions, one major Italian keyboard collection – the Fiori Musicali by Frescobaldi – and
French keyboard compositions by Jean-Henri D’Anglebert, Jacques Boyvin, François Couperin,
Nicolas de Grigny, Charles Dieupart, Pierre DuMage, Louis Marchand and André Raison. For more
information on Italian and French influences on Bach, see Williams, 1984: 91-102; Ladewig, 1991
and Stauffer, 1993.
118. For more information on whether or not inégalité should or can be applied in the works of German
composers and, more particularly, of Bach, see Hefling, 1993: 37-50.
119. For more detailed information, see Lohmann, 1990: 31-55 and 149-152; and Butt, 1990: 52-58.
On Articulation, Fingering, Technique and Gradation of Tone 85
A widespread, though not unique, way of achieving micro-dynamics on keyboard

instruments was by applying so-called paired fingerings, that is the repeated use of
two consecutive fingers on adjacent pairs of two adjacent notes, the longer finger
mostly passing over the shorter. This keyboard practice goes back to the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries when all fingering systems had one axiom in common:
the performer’s fingering choice largely depended on the position of the notes in a
bar in a way that good (thus strong) fingers played ‘good’ notes and bad (thus weak)
fingers ‘bad’ notes. Notwithstanding this shared principle, however, keyboard play-
ers were not in full agreement on which fingers should be considered good and
which ones bad, some holding the third finger to be the good one, others both the
second and fourth. The most significant consequence of these different views on
good and bad fingers is that they actually produce paired fingerings for scale-like
passages which, when we exclude the few examples of the shorter finger passing
over the longer, are metrically the opposite of each other. The systems with 3 as
a good finger yield on-beat paired fingering, that is the first note of each pair is a
‘good’ note while the second is ‘bad:’
& ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏ

3 4 3 4 3 2 3 2
3 4 3 4 3 2 3 2
Ï ÏÏÏÏ
Example 1: On-beat paired fingering.
When the second or the fourth finger plays a ‘good’ note, which is generally called
the Diruta fingering system, cross-beat paired fingering emerges:120
ÏÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï 3 2 3/1
4 3 4 3/5 4 3 2 3
&
ÏÏÏÏÏ
2 3 4 3 2
ÏÏÏÏ
Example 2: Cross-beat paired fingering.
It is evident that the on-beat paired fingering offers the most idiomatic way on the
keyboard to realize the Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum; a natural, albeit possibly small,
articulation occurs after the bad finger at the moment that the good finger passes
120. Girolamo Diruta, who was probably the first author to mention ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes (Hefling,
1993: 35), apparently codified the views of his teacher Claudio Merulo in his treatise on keyboard
playing Il transilvano (Venice, 1593 and 1609).
over it. Although the Diruta fingering, in which a ‘bad’ note is physically related to
the following instead of the preceding ‘good’ note, seems less suited for this pur-
pose, it does not necessarily imply a contradiction between articulation and metric
hierarchy. After all, independently from whether or not a theorist proposed on-beat
or cross-beat paired fingering, the style of playing for this early keyboard music,
both in and outside Italy, was generally described as (slightly) detached, therefore
allowing the performance of the second note of a cross-beat pair ‘better’ than the
first. Diruta himself actually claimed that before the next note is struck the preceding
one must be released.121 While the former guideline was formulated in the context of
how to perform diminutions on the organ, Diruta advised playing the harpsichord
in an even more detached way, his example illustrating that on the latter instrument
notes are held for only half of their written value.122
It would appear that, apart from Merulo and Diruta, the other late sixteenth-
century and seventeenth-century Italian theorists, among them Adriano Banchieri
and Lorenzo Penna,123 considered the third finger to be the good one, a view obvi-
ously resulting in on-beat paired fingering. Nevertheless, the influence that Diruta’s
treatise exerted on future keyboard players was such that the two fingering systems
co-existed in seventeenth-century Italy. Both of them even continued to be used
in eighteenth-century Italy, although the principle that a ‘good’ note needed to be
played with a good finger was gradually lost from roughly the second half of the
seventeenth century. This becomes evident, for instance, from Alessandro Scarlatti’s
Toccata prima, the first of a collection of seven, didactically intended Toccate per cem-
balo. This composition, albeit not his most brilliant one, is an important document
for Baroque fingering since Scarlatti fingered it throughout. I fully agree with Mark
Lindley, who wrote concerning the right hand of bar 6 that:
The different fingering for the second and fourth beats (4 3 4 3 versus 3 4 3
4) seems illogical, but I think Scarlatti is indicating to his pupils that they
should be able to produce approximately the same phrasing (i.e. the same
effect of pairing) with either fingering. Throughout the toccata, 3 is treated
as strong or weak depending upon the context.124
121. Diruta, 1593/1625: 16.

122. Diruta, 1593/1625: 11.
123. Banchieri, 1609: 62; Penna, 1672 (vol. 3): 91.
124. Lindley, 1982: 334.
# Ï ÏÏÏ nÏ4 Ï5
6 5 1 2 4 7
& cÅ ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
3 4 3
1 2 3 4 3 4 3
ÏÏ
Example 3: Toccata prima by Alessandro Scarlatti, bars 6-7a (only right hand).
As far as we know, the French harpsichordists of the seventeenth and eighteenth

centuries never stuck to one particular system of paired fingering. They seem always
to have used both cross-beat and on-beat paired fingerings within the same com-
position or treatise, suggesting that they did not speak in terms of good and bad
fingers which should play ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes respectively. From the fingering
which Guillaume-Gabriel Nivers suggested in the preface to his Livre d’orgue (1665),
for instance, we can rather deduce that, except for the two alternative fingerings,
each note of a scale is played by the same finger, regardless of whether that note is
‘good’ or ‘bad’:
Ï Ïú Î ÏÏÏÏÏÏ
ú
& äÏÏÏÏÏ
1 2 3 4 3 4 3 4 2 3 4 3 4 3 4
ÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏ
& ä ÏÏÏú Î ÏÏú
4 3 2 3 2 3 2 3 4 3 2 3 2 3 2
ou
1
? ä ÏÏÏÏÏÏú Î ÏÏÏÏÏÏ
ú
Ï
4 3 2 1 2 1 2 1 3 2 1 2 1 2 1
? ä ÏÏÏÏÏÏ Î ÏÏÏÏÏÏú
Ïú
1 2 3 4 3 4 3 4 1 2 3 4 3 4 3
ou
5.
Example 4: Nivers, 1665: Preface.

(Since this Livre d’orgue is the first French source supplying information with regard
to fingering, we do not know whether or not fingers and metre were linked in France
in the first half of the seventeenth century.)
Whether Nivers and, more generally, seventeenth-century French keyboard play-
ers, adhered, as did their Italian colleagues, to a detached way of playing – thus
allowing the cross-beat paired fingerings to respect metric hierarchy – is poorly
documented. Still, we can find some indirect evidence in François Couperin’s Art de
toucher le Clavecin that the playing style in seventeenth-century France seems indeed to
have been more detached than that of the eighteenth century. Couperin, for instance,
disliked some older fingerings due to the lack of their ability to slur notes, for which,
among other things, he recommended finger substitution (see also below).125 In
fact, in eighteenth-century French keyboard music, besides the many two-note
‘standard’ on-beat slurs, we also regularly encounter slurs which connect a ‘bad’
to the following ‘good’ note, often resulting from the cross-beat paired fingering
and thus contradicting at first sight the Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum. They could even
give the impression that eighteenth-century French harpsichordists did not find
the clarity of metre a major performance criterion, and that the addition of slurs
was a purely artistic, perhaps arbitrary, decision of the composer. The (few) French
Baroque descriptions of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes, however, suggest that French musi-
cians in general must also have played the ‘good’ notes ‘well’, the ‘bad’ notes ‘badly’.
In his Règles de composition (ca. 1692) Marc-Antoine Charpentier, for instance, spoke
of ‘strong and weak beats’ (temps forts et faibles),126 and moreover explained that:
In a bar with four beats, the first and third beats are strong, the second and
the fourth are weak.
In a bar with two beats, the first is strong and the second is weak.
In a bar with three beats, all beats are equal, and, if wanted, the second and
third beats will be weak, but the first is always long.
À la mesure à quatre temps, le 1er temps, et le 3e sont forts, le second et le 4e

sont faibles.
À la mesure a deux temps, le 1er est fort et le 2e est faible.
À la mesure a trois temps, tous les temps sont égaux, et si l’on veut, le 2e ou
le 3e seront faibles mais le 1er est toujours long.127
125. Couperin, 1716/1717: 19-21 & 29-31.

126. Charpentier, ca. 1692/2004: 481; my English translation.
127. Ibid.
Perhaps the clearest document on metric hierarchy in French context is the preface to
Florilegium secundum (1698) by Georg Muffat, which was actually a small treatise writ-
ten in Latin, German, Italian and French on Lullyan performance practice, and which
specifically linked the concept of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes to string playing technique:
Of all the notes found in any composition to be played, there are those that are
good … and others that are bad … Good notes are those that seem naturally to
give the ear a little repose. Such notes are longer, those that come on the beat
or essential subdivisions of measures, those that have a dot after them, and
(among equal small notes) those that are odd-numbered and are ordinarily
played down-bow. The bad notes are all the others, which, like passing notes,
do not satisfy the ear so well, and leave after them a desire to go on.
Auß denen Noten, die in der Composition vorkommen, werden etliche für
edle, etliche für schlechte gehalten. Die edle seynd, welche nathürlicher
Weise in dem Gehör scheinen zu verweilen; als da seynd die längere Noten,
oder die einen Essential-Theil deß Tempo anfangen, oder die nach sich ein
Punct haben; unter den gleich diminuirenden seynd, welche in unglei-
cher Zahl stehen, bey welchen der Bogen hinab soll gezogen werden. Die
schlechte seynd alle andere: nemblich so den Oren nicht also genugthun,
sondern als weiter gehende ein Verlangen nach sich lassen.
De toutes les notes qu’on trouve en quelle composition que ce soit, les unes
passent pour bonnes, nobles ou principales; & les autres pour chetives, ou
viles. Les bonnes sont celles qui semblent naturellement permettre à l’o-
reille comme un peu de repos. Telles sont celles qui sont un peu longues,
celles qui commancent une partie essentielle de la mesure, ou qui ont un
point apres soy & entre les égales, & diminuantes celles qui se treuvent de
nombre non pair, dont la plus part se tire ordinairement par l’archet en bas.
Les chetives sont les autres, qui comme passageres, & ne satisfaisant pas si
bien l’oreille laissent apres soy le desir de passer outre.128
From this we can deduce that this metrically-based bowing system also resulted
in expressing ‘good’ notes stronger and longer than ‘bad’ ones because, as Houle
rightly puts it, ‘the down-bow stroke on the violin is stronger, more precise and defi-
nite in effect, and the up-bow stroke is lighter and more delicate’.129
In view of this evident relationship between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes and French bow-
ing technique, I regard it as unthinkable that tonguing on wind instruments and key-
board fingering – and, more particularly, the cross-beat slurs in French harpsichord
128. Muffat, 1698/1959: 26 (German version) & 50 (French version); English translation in Houle,
1987: 82. For the Latin and Italian version, see Muffat, 1698/1959: 13 & 39 respectively.
129. Houle, 1987: 103.
music – would not have reflected this metric hierarchy. We do not actually have to
interpret the fact that in French wind treatises the tongue stroke Tu Ru, like paired key-
board fingerings, could occur both in its on-beat as well as in its cross-beat form, as
metrically contradictory.130 The different tongue strokes were simply not so categori-
cally linked to dynamics as was the case with bowing. Consequently, the cross-beat
Tu Ru easily allowed the metric hierarchy to be respected. According to Houle,
Tu is precise, although it can be done very softly and gently, and Ru [which
was never used as first note of a motif or line, though] may be strong but not
as precise in its initial impact as Tu.131
As for the reason for the co-existence of both the on-beat and the cross-beat Tu Ru,
Jacques Hotteterre le Romain explained that this was done:
To render the playing more agreeable and to avoid too much uniformity in
the tongue strokes.
Pour rendre le jeu plus agréable, & pour éviter trop d’uniformité dans les
coups de Langue.132
While the cross-beat Tu Ru, therefore, does not necessarily have to upset the concept
of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes – it was actually ideal for performing inégalité, being a musi-
cal translation of the predominantly iambic organization of the French language –
neither do the cross-beat slurs in, for instance, Couperin’s harpsichord works. To
make up for the ‘bad’ slur with regard to diction and dynamics, Couperin almost sys-
tematically added an ornament on the second, that is ‘good’, note under the slur:133
D’une legéreté gracieuse, et liée.

m Mm 7
b 12 ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏjÏ™ Ï Ï Ï Ï
4 5 6
&b 8 Ï
ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏÏ Ï
? b 12 Ï ™ j M M M M M
{b 8 bÏ Ï ™ Ï™ Ï ™ bÏ ™ Ï ™ Ï™ Ï ™ bÏ ™ Ï ™ Ï™ Ï ™ ÏÏ ™™
Example 5: La Zénobie from Onzième Ordre by François Couperin, bars 4-7a.
130. See, for instance, Freillon Poncein, 1700: 16-21 and Hotteterre, 1707/1728: 21-29.
131. Houle, 1987: 100.
132. Hotteterre, 1707/1728: 21; my English translation.
133. Both on-beat and cross-beat slurs occur abundantly in the keyboard works of François Couperin,
who wrote more slurs than any other composer of his time.
Only rarely does a slur without ornament from a ‘bad’ to the following ‘good’ note
occur, this unusual slur arguably having the purpose of making the ‘bad’ beat ‘bet-
ter’ and/or the following ‘good’ beat ‘worse’:134
#mÏ MÏ ÏΩ
delicatement, sans vitesse
bÏ Ï
&b 3 Ï Ï Ï
1 2 3
{ Ï
? 3 Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
b
Ï Ïb Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 7: La Croûilli ou La Couperinéte from Vintième Ordre by François Couperin,

bars 1-3.
(Note that Couperin used two different slur signs – a hook-like slur and a stroke – of
which he only described the former and then still without explaining the two keywords:
Slurs. Signs to indicate that notes should be liées and coulées.
Liaisons. Signes pour marquer les Nottes qui doivent être liées, et coulées.135
As will become clear from the following paragraph, though, the concept of couler
generally included overlegato, suggesting that Couperin’s term nottes liées must have
simply stood for ‘not articulated notes’. Moreover, since it is unlikely that Couperin
considered the stroke to be synonymous with the liaison – otherwise why did he use
two different signs? – I therefore find it plausible that the stroke is an indication for
notes which should only be liées and not coulées.)
134. This difference in density of occurrence between a cross-beat slur with and without an ornament
on its second note remains somewhat unclear from Couperin’s Art de toucher le Clavecin. On the
contrary, judging from the slurs in this treatise’s exercises called évolutions ou petits exercices pour former
les mains, one could conclude that Couperin viewed plain cross-beat slurs as regular articulations:
&c j c Ï
ÏÏÏ ÏÏÏ ÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ
progrès de tierces progrès de quartes
Example 6: Couperin, 1716/1717: 28.
I believe, however, that one should be careful when applying pedagogically intended short exercises
to actual music – these slurs could merely delineate the intervals that the student should practice.
135. Couperin, 1713: table of ornaments; my English translation.
Yet one particularly present French ornament, the cross-beat port de voix, does imply
a ‘good’ note which is weaker than the preceding ‘bad’ note. It actually consists of a
pre-beat ‘appoggiatura’ slurred to its on-beat resolution (see example 8), which, we
are told by Monsieur de Saint-Lambert, should be performed coulé on the harpsichord:
one should not lift up the fingers when playing them [the notes of the port
de voix], but wait until the second of the two notes has been played before
lifting the finger which has played the first.
il ne faut pas lever les doigts en les touchant [les notes du port de voix], mais
µ
Les deux notes qu’il faut le plus couler sont icy marquées d’une petite raye.
attendre que la seconde des deux Notes soit touchée, pour lever le doigt qui
aÏP touché
Ï Ï ÏÏL laú première.
ÏP 136Ï Ï ÏÏP #ú Ï ÏÏL Ï Ï ÏÏP Ï Ï™ #Ï ÏL ú µ
#Ï ™ ÏÏL ú
(ports de Voix)
& ä Å ä Å
µ
Les deux notes qu’il faut le plus couler sont icy marquées d’une petite raye.
ÏP Ï Ï ÏÏL ú Ï ÏÏL Ï Ï ÏÏP Ï Ï™ #Ï ÏL ú µ

ä Å Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ#ú #Ï ™ ÏÏL ú
(ports de Voix)
& äÅ
P P
& 83 ÏJ (Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
EXEMPLE. EXPRESSION.
J (Ï & Ï Ï Ï
En montant, En descendant. En montant, En descendant.
& 83 Ï 8: Nivers,
(Ï 1665:Ï Preface; Ï1702:Ï50. Ï Ï
EXEMPLE. EXPRESSION.
Example
J ( Ï Saint-Lambert,
J & Ï Ï
En montant, En descendant. En montant, En descendant.
Like the cross-beat slur connecting (more) substantial notes, one could again be
tempted to consider also this overlegato cross-beat slur on an ornamental level as
a general principle in French harpsichord music to be used wherever desired by
a performer. Since, however, the ornamental cross-beat slur has been described
only in relation to the port de voix, its application to any interval of a second from,
say, a metrically weak to a strong quaver or semiquaver remains questionable,
rather functioning as an expressive exception within an otherwise overall metri-
cally clear framework.
136. Saint-Lambert, 1702: 49; my English translation. Raison gave a similar directive for the performance
of the cross-beat port de voix (Raison, 1688/1899: 8).
From the few examples and treatises that survive, it would appear that German six-
teenth-century keyboard players generally preferred the second and fourth fingers
over the third, thus, according to the Diruta sytem, still allowing some exceptions to
this principle. For instance, Hans Buchner, whose treatise Fundamentum (ca. 1525)
contains the earliest known guidelines for keyboard fingering, and Elias Nicolaus
Ammerbach both regarded the even-numbered fingers as good fingers, but the
former still used 3 for all the notes which have mordents, while the latter regularly
applied 3 as the good finger in neighbour-note motifs.137 This link between good
fingers and ‘good’ notes had already become less common in the first half of seven-
teenth-century Germany. Michael Praetorius, who mentioned that many different
fingering theories existed yet refused to take a position, further put the matter into
perspective by laconically stating that, if it sounds good, you can even play with your
nose!138 Although German players and theorists continued to use specific paired
fingerings in the second half of the seventeenth century, it had become a generally
accepted concept by that time that a finger could play a ‘good’ as well as a ‘bad’
note. In 1687, for instance, Daniel Speer advocated performing ascending scale-
like passages in the right hand and descending scale-like passages in the left hand
with 3-4-3-4, and descending scale-like passages in the right hand and ascending
scale-like passages in the left hand were played with 2-3-2-3.139 He did not, how-
ever, mention which finger plays the ‘good’ or ‘bad’ note, suggesting that any paired
fingering could occur both on-beat and cross-beat. Further, this fingering concept
is in accordance with Speer’s view on keyboard touch – an addition to the much-
expanded 1697 edition and the first German description of this matter – from which
we can deduce a detached keyboard style:
Now, when a beginner has understood the use of the fingers of both hands
in ascending and descending motion, what is left to do?
After this one should show them with the use of both hands a light, full, and
short striking of each note.
137. Buchner, ca. 1525: 5-6; Ammerbach, 1571: LXVI (Preface).

138. Praetorius, 1619 (vol. 2): 44.
139. Speer, 1687: 58-59.
Wann nun ein Incipient beyder Hände Finger Gebrauch im Auf- und
Absteigen gefasset/ was ist ferner zu thun?
Nach diesem soll man ihnen mit beyder Hände Gebrauch/ eine leichte/ völ-
lige und kurtze Anstimmung auß jedem Thon zeigen.140
As for eighteenth-century German keyboard technique, this was characterized by an

interesting blend of new and old fingerings. On the one hand, for the first time in
history, the thumb was treated as equal to the other fingers. The main consequence
of the new fingering systems was that they allowed the execution of scale-like pas-
sages with the passing under of the thumb (for instance 1-2-3-1-2-3-4-5) instead
of with paired fingering. Carl Philip Emanuel Bach, amongst others, specified this
guideline by pointing out that, with regard to the position of the sharps and flats:
the thumb of the right hand is brought in after one or more semitones when
ascending, but before one or more semitones when descending, and the
left thumb after the semitones when descending, and before them when
ascending.
der Daumen der rechten Hand im Aufsteigen nach einem oder mehrern hal-
ben Tönen, im Absteigen aber vor einem oder mehrern halben Tönen, und
der lincke Daumen im Absteigen nach, und im Aufsteigen vor den halben
Tönen, eingesetzt wird.141
Similarly, though not identically, Johann Philipp Kirnberger stated that:
in most cases the thumb is placed before or after the leading tone (Semitonio
modi), whether the latter falls on a semitone or on a whole tone.
in den meisten Fällen vor und nach dem Leitton, (Semitonio modi,) es falle
solcher auf einen halben oder ganzen Ton der Daum eingesetzet werde.142
On the other hand, players still held on, despite this acceptance of the thumb as a
regular and principal finger, to the use of paired fingerings. Carl Philipp Emanuel
Bach explained that:
The alternation of the fingers is the most important issue of fingering. With
our five fingers we can strike only five successive tones; consequently one
should observe especially two methods, whereby we conveniently obtain as
many fingers, so to speak, as we need. These two methods consist of the pas-
sing under [of the thumb] and the passing over [mostly of the third finger].
140. Speer, 1697: 34; my English translation.

142. Kirnberger, 1781: 3; my English translation.
Der Abwechselung der Finger ist der hauptsächlichste Vorwurff der

Applicatur. Wir können mit unsern fünf Fingern nur fünf Tone nach einan-
der anschlagen; folglich mercke man vornehmlich zwey Mittel, wodurch
wir bequem so viel Finger gleichsam kriegen als wir brauchen. Diese zwey
Mittel bestehen in dem Untersetzen und Ueberschlagen.143
Moreover, he specified that paired fingerings for scale passages belong to the most
commonly used fingerings,144 sometimes even preferring these to modern fingering
(thus with passing under of the thumb) in keys with few or no accidentals, because
they allow a smoother execution:
The passing under and passing over as the main means in the alternation of
the fingers must be performed in such a way, that all notes can belong well
together. Hence, in the keys with no or few accidentals, in certain cases the
passing of the third finger over the fourth and the second over the thumb
is better and more useful to avoid all possible interruption than the other
applications of passing over and passing under of the thumb, because the
latter, in the context of the occurring semitones, has more space and there-
fore more comfort to crawl under the other fingers, than in the context of a
succession of nothing but lower keys.
Das Untersetzen und Ueberschlagen als die Haupt-Hülffs-Mittel in der

Abwechselung der Finger müssen so gebraucht werden, daß alle Töne
dadurch gut zusammen gehänget werden können. Deßwegen ist in den
Ton-Arten mit keinen oder wenigen Versetzungs-Zeichen bey gewis-
sen Fällen das Ueberschlagen des dritten Fingers über den vierten und
des zweyten über den Daumen besser und nützlicher, um alles mögliche
Absetzen zu vermeiden, als der übrige Gebrauch des Ueberschlagens und
das Untersetzen des Daums, weil selbiger bey vorkommenden halben
Tönen mehr Platz und folglich auch mehr Bequemlichkeit hat, unter die
anderen Finger durchzukriechen, als bey einer Folge von lauter unten lie-
genden Tasten.145
Yet for Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach the thumb as a principal finger remained ‘com-
pletely indispensable in difficult keys’ (in den schweren Tonarten ganz unentbehrlich).146
Marpurg provided similar directives. He also advocated both modern and paired
fingering, simply judging both ways of fingering as equally good. Nevertheless, he

144. Ibid.: 24.
145. Ibid.: 34-35.
146. Ibid.: 17.
advised studying well the passing of 3 over 4, which he considered the most difficult
of all.147
Even as late as 1802, in the reprint of his Clavierschule first published in 1789, Daniel
Gottlob Türk found it worthwhile, by referring to Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s trea-
tise, to suggest paired fingering as a possible, albeit not his preferred way, of playing
scales. Moreover, Türk mentioned that Wilhelm Friedemann Bach apparently used
the 3‑4 paired fingering for scale-like passages throughout his professional career:
Friedemann Bach … is said to have produced with both these fingers cer-
tain runs not only perfectly smoothly, but also did so with an astonishing
dexterity.
Friedemann Bach … soll mit diesen beyden Fingern gewisse Läufer nicht
nur vollkommen rund, sondern dabey auch mit einer erstaunenswürdigen
Fertigkeit heraus gebracht haben.148
Despite the introduction of the thumb as a full-fledged finger, more easily allowing
longer legato lines to keyboard performance practice, a generally (slightly) detached
style was still defended throughout eighteenth-century Germany. In the second-
edition Clavierschule of 1802, Türk was still saying:
Concerning the notes, which have to be performed according to the usual
way – that is, neither detached nor slurred, one raises the finger from the
keys a little earlier as the length of the note demands. Consequently, the
notes stipulated in a) will be performed according to circumstances appro-
ximately as notated in b) or in c). If some specific, mixed-in notes have to be
fully held, one should write ten. or tenuto over the notes, as in d).
j j ¨ Ï™™ j ten.
a) b) c) d)
&b Ï Ï Ï Ï™ Å Ï™ j Ï
J Å Ï™ Å Ï™™ J ¨ Ï™™ ¨
Example 9: Türk, 1802: 400.
Bey den Tönen, welche auf die gewöhnliche Art, d.h. weder gestoßen noch
geschleift, vorgetragen werden sollen, hebt man den Finger ein wenig
früher, als es die Geltung der Note erfordert, von den Tasten. Folglich wer-
den die bey a) vorgeschriebenen Töne nach Umständen ungefähr wie bey b)
oder c) vorgetragen. Sollen einzelne untermischte Töne völlig ausgehalten
werden, so schreibe man ten. oder tenuto über die Noten d).149
147. Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung): 64 & Marpurg, 1756: 74.

148. Türk, 1802: 170; my English translation.
149. Ibid.: 400.
Treatises from Johann Sebastian Bach’s time and environment also advocated this
detached way of playing the keyboard. One could interpret Mattheson’s advice that
‘a teacher should constantly require his pupil never to apply the next finger until he
has lifted the previous one’ (ein Meister seinem Untergebnen immer dazu anhalten muß, daß
er eher keinen andern Finger zusetze, bis er den vorigen aufgehoben hat) as purely pedagogi-
cal.150 Marpurg, however, confirmed that this general style of playing also applied to
professional German music making:
The usual way is set against the legato as well as the staccato, and consists
of very quickly lifting the finger from the preceding key just before one tou-
ches the following note. This usual way is never indicated, since it is always
taken for granted.
Sowohl dem Schleifen als Abstossen ist das ordentliche Fortgehen entge-
gen gesetzet, welches darinnen besteht, daß man ganz hurtig kurz worher,
ehe man die folgende Note berühret, den Finger von der vorhergehenden
Taste aufhebet. Dieses ordentliche Fortgehen wird, weil es allezeit voraus
gesetzet wird, niemahls angezeiget.151
As for Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, he gave the following guideline:

Some people play stickily, as if they had glue between their fingers. Their
touch is too long, because they hold the notes longer than the beat. Others
wanted to correct it, and play too short, as if the keys were burning. This is
also wrong. The middle way is best.
Einige Personen spielen klebericht, als wenn sie Leim zwischen den Fingern
hätten. Ihr Anschlag ist zu lang, indem sie die Noten über die Zeit liegen lassen.
Andere haben es verbessern wollen, und spielen zu kurz; als wenn die Tasten
glühend wären. Es thut aber auch schlecht. Die Mittelstrasse ist die beste.152
Further on in his treatise, he seemed to particularize his view of ‘middle way:’
The notes, which are neither played staccato, slurred nor fully held are to be
held for half their value.
150. Mattheson, 1735: 72; English translation in Lindley, 1985: 219.

151. Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung): 29; my English translation. Interestingly enough, Marpurg did not
include this paragraph in the French version of this treatise, Principes du clavecin (Marpurg, 1756:
34), which seems to confirm the more legato style, described above, of eighteenth-century French
harpsichord playing. Note also that the last phrase of this quotation, as Lohmann concludes
correctly, points out indirectly that articulation signs were mostly used to indicate deviations from
standard practice (Lohmann, 1990: 181). See also below.
Die Noten, welche weder gestossen noch geschleifft noch ausgehalten wer-
den, unterhält man so lange als ihre Hälffte beträgt.153
Compared to Marpurg’s directive, this could give the impression that Carl Philipp
Emanuel Bach advocated a more detached standard. Yet the latter specified that this
articulation usually applied to ‘quavers and crotchets in moderate and slow tempi’
(Achttheile und Viertheile in gemäßigter und langsamer Zeit-Maasse),154 while he did not pro-
vide any information on how to perform those notes in faster tempi and notes with
other values than the ones mentioned above in moderate and slow tempi.
It goes without saying that these guidelines by Marpurg and Carl Philipp Emanuel
Bach only describe a generalized keyboard practice. The length (or shortness) of the
‘regular’ notes could (and should) still be varied depending on the context, the speed
of the piece and Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum in order to obtain an interesting musical
discourse. Simply by mentioning others ways of articulation in contrast to das orden-
tliche Fortgehen, both authors already betrayed their approval of slurred, staccato and
fully held notes. This flexible attitude towards keyboard articulation is further con-
firmed by other extracts from their treatises. In explaining possible errors in finger-
ing, Marpurg specifically linked the (sounding) duration of notes with their intrinsic
length and allowed slurred and staccato notes when appropriate:
If the [fingering] is not convenient, one risks sinning … against the intrinsic
quality of the notes by making short those which should be long and vice
versa, lifting a finger too early or leaving it too long on a key; slurring notes
which should be played detached and vice versa.
Ist sie [die Fingersetzung] nicht bequem, so laufft man Gefahr, … aus einer
innerlich langen ein kurze [Note] zu machen, und umgekehrt; einen Finger
zu zeitig aufzuheben, oder zu lange liegen zu lassen; Noten die abgestoßen
werden sollen, zu schleifen, und umgekehrt.
Si la position [des doigts] n’est pas commode, on risque … de pécher contre

la quantité intrinsèque des notes en rendant brèves celles qui sont longues &
réciproquement, de relever un doigt trop tôt ou de le laisser trop long tems
sur la touche ; de couler les notes qui doivent être détâchées, & de détâcher
celles qui doivent être coulées.155
153. Ibid.: 127.

154. Ibid.
155. Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung): 61 & Marpurg, 1756: 71; my English translation.
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach recommended this diversified approach to articulation

by adding the following to the quotation about the Mittelstrasse:
I speak here [that is that the middle way is best] in general; all kinds of tou-
ches are good at the right time.
ich rede hievon überhaupt; alle Arten des Anschlages sind zur rechten Zeit
gut.156
In spite of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s apparent approval of all types of articula-
tion when appropriate, we still need to consider to what extent two rather poorly
documented ‘kinds of touches’, namely overlegato and cross-beat slurs, were used
in Bach’s time and environment.
As mentioned above, the French harpsichordists made use of both, at least in
relation to cross-beat ports de voix. It would seem, for that matter, that Jean-Philippe
Rameau stretched the concept of overlegato to all slurred notes, including the on-
beat port de voix and coulé (see example 10):
Ï
Ï Ï Ï , indicates that
A slur embracing two different notes, like
one should lift the finger of the first only after having played the second.
Ï Ï Ï Ï
Une liaison qui embrasse deux nottes différentes, comme
marque qu’il ne faut lever le doigt de dessus la première qu’après avoir tou-
ché la seconde.157
Ï (Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Å Ï (Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Å
J J J J
Port de voix Coulez
Example 10: Rameau, 1724: table of ornaments.
(Needless to say that the degree of overlegato depends on the context, and that
Rameau’s realization for execution of the port de voix and coulé should merely be read
as an indication of overlegato.)
In his Principes du clavecin, Marpurg formulated a definition of slurring, which
in fact strongly resembles Rameau’s, thus confirming his approval of overlegato
applied to all slurred notes:

157. Rameau, 1724: table of ornaments; my English translation.
To slur means to lift the finger of the preceding note only when one has pla-
yed the following.
Couler c’est ne relever le doigt de la note précédente que l’on n’ait touché la
suivante.158
While this definition leaves no doubts about Marpurg’s view on (over)slurring, the
original, German version of this phrase seems at first sight somewhat less decisive:
Schleiffen aber heißet, den Finger von der vorhergehenden Note nicht eher
aufheben, als bis man die folgende berühret.159
Although the term berühren was, as far as I know, never used to signify the actual
keyboard playing, Marpurg probably considered it to be synonymous with toucher (le
clavecin), thus producing sounds, instead of merely coming into contact with the key.
It would appear as if Marpurg intended to use in this case as sensitive a German term
as the French toucher was – Marpurg lived during the 1740s in Paris and had a high
regard for French harpsichord playing.
Contrary to Marpurg, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach did not mention any overlap
between slurred notes:
The notes which are to be played legato, must be held.
Die Noten welche geschleift werden sollen, müssen ausgehalten werden.160
We already saw that he disapproved of overlegato as a general principle, referring

to players who ‘hold notes longer than the beat’, but presumably approved it ‘at the
right time’.161
I would argue that, with regard to the differentiation of ‘good’ from ‘bad’ notes, it
is natural and idiomatic to apply overlegato also to German eighteenth-century key-
board music. This touch perfectly suits the resolution of an on-beat dissonance, for
it allows the softening of the resolution’s attack on the harpsichord. In my opinion
158. Marpurg, 1756: 34; my English translation.

159. Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung): 28.
160. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 125-126; my English translation.
161. We do find clear German descriptions of overlegato in the late eighteenth century and the beginning
of the nineteenth century. Franz Paul Rigler, for instance, wrote ‘that during the slur the finger can
be lifted from the key when the next note has already been heard’ (daß bei der Schleifung die Finger sich
erst von der Taste heben, wenn der nächste darauf folgende Ton schon gehört worden ist; Rigler, 1789: 92).
this application perfectly accords with Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s description of
how to execute an appoggiatura (or suspension) and its resolution:
Further we learn from this illustration [containing many examples of appog-

giaturas and resolutions; to the first two appoggiaturas and resolutions Carl
Philipp Emanuel Bach added forte and piano respectively] at the same time
their execution, in which all appoggiaturas are played stronger than the
following note … and are drawn to this note, whether or not a slur occurs.
Ferner lernen wir aus dieser Abbildung zugleich ihren Vortrag, indem alle
Vorschläge stärcker, als die folgende Note … angeschlagen, und an diese
gezogen werden, es mag nun der Bogen darbey stehen oder nicht.162
Although eighteenth-century German treatises did not specifically mention a pro-

hibition of cross-beat slurs, we can confidently deduce from the principles of das
ordentliche Fortgehen and the Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum that, apart perhaps from the
application described above, they did not belong to the conventional articulation
patterns. When a composer, therefore, intended this kind of deviating articulation
to be performed as such, he had to write it into the score. To name only one German
composer, Johann Kuhnau, who was Johann Sebastian Bach’s predecessor as Kantor
in Leipzig and composer of, among others things, several collections of keyboard
works, only wrote slurs in those keyboard works from a ‘bad’ part of the beat to and
including the next ‘good’ beat in one instance:
Ï Ï2 Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï l. 30
2 ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï2 Ï Ï ÅÏÏÏ
29
&c Ï Ï Ï3 Ï Ï Ï
ÏÏ
ÅÏÏ
r.
?c
linke rechte
{
Example 11: Praeludium from Partie 1 (Neuer Clavier Ubung Erster Theil) by Johann Kuhnau,
bars 29-30 (Reproduced from Johann Kuhnau: Collected Works for
Keyboard, edited by C. David Harris, by arrangement with The Broude
Trust for the Publication of Musicological Editions).
Moreover, one might even be doubtful about viewing these slurs as articulation
marks, seemingly functioning rather as indications of hand distribution.163

163. See also footnote 18.
The notion that slurring tout court, and certainly from a ‘bad’ to the following
‘good’ note, was unusual in eighteenth-century Germany is important when revisit-
ing one aspect of keyboard technique at that time, that is paired fingering. After all,
not sticking to one particular form of paired fingering, the keyboard treatises from
the time and environment of Johann Sebastian Bach proposed, even within one and
the same passage or figure, on-beat as well as cross-beat paired fingering, the latter
obviously requiring careful attention to ensure metric clarity. In fact, while already
being discernible, though not generally accepted, in the seventeenth century, a link
between choice of fingers and ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes definitively ceased to exist in the
eighteenth century. At that time fingering had become rather the result of using what
seems most appropriate in a certain context. On the one hand, we saw above that
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach basically preferred paired fingering to modern fingering
in keys with hardly any accidentals or none at all. Whether this fingering yields a con-
secutive on-beat and cross-beat paired fingering was apparently not an issue:
& ä Ï Ï
1 2 3 4 3 4 1 2 3 4 3
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
4 3 2 1 2 1 4 3 2 1 2
Example 12: C. P. E. Bach, 1753: Tab. I Fig. II.
This fragment, with the implied time signature 12/8, shows that the 3 of the first 3‑4
pair coincides with the ‘good’ first quaver of the second beat, while the following
note, played by the fourth finger, clearly acts as a ‘bad’ second quaver of that beat. It
is followed by another 3‑4 paired fingering, yet the fourth finger playing in this case
the ‘better’ note, that is the first ‘good’ quaver of the third beat. Consequently, the
concept of Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum and the principle of das ordentliche Fortgehen with
its exceptions and variations, as well as common sense, suggest a different articula-
tion for both pairs, in order to respect the metre. It is thus imperative to play this bar’s
fifth note, the g1, light and short enough in relation to its sixth note, the a1, to make the
former audibly comprehensible as the third quaver of a group of three instead of the
first quaver of a group of two. While (almost) slurring the notes of the first 3‑4 pair is
defensible, this is definitely not an option for the notes of the second pair. The latter
would produce an undesirable upbeat slur, actually altering the metre:
3 4 1 2 3 4 3j
& ä Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
1 2 3 4
Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï
4 3 2 1 2 1 4 3 2 1 2
Example 13.
On the other hand, in certain situations, for instance when the fourth scale step falls
on a (relatively) ‘good’ note, even in C major, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach found the
modern fingering more convenient:
Ï Ï Ï Ï
1 2 3 4 5 1
&
1 2 3
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 14: C. P. E. Bach, 1753: Tab. I Fig. II.
Like Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, Marpurg also advocated modern as well as on-beat
and cross-beat paired fingering:164
ÏÏÏÏ
& ä Ï ä ÏÏÏÏÏ ä ÏÏÏ
4
?
1 2 3 1 2 2 3 4 3
ÏÏÏÏ 1 2 3 4 3 4 3
Example 15: Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung) & 1756: Tab. VI Fig. 31, 35 & 36.
(We saw above that Marpurg had no particular preference.)

Besides illustrating the legitimacy of cross-beat paired fingering in the last frag-
ment of this example, its specific notation should however be read, in my opinion, as
a warning, and as another indication against regular cross-beat slurring. Compare
it, for instance, with the following example:
& Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï
4 3 2 1
2 1 2 1
Ï
Example 16: Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung) & 1756: Tab. VI Fig. 23.
The point of interest in example 16, which shows one possible way of playing a right
hand descending scale in C major, is the beaming of the four quavers in the second
half of the bar. Whereas these four are beamed together, as they are in the first half
of that bar, in the third fragment of example 15, however, Marpurg wrote two groups
of two quavers in the second half of the bar, a discrepancy I cannot dismiss as indif-
ference or sloppiness. Rather, this suggests to me that he did not intend cross-beat
slurs or an articulation favouring the audible pairing of a ‘bad’ quaver and the next
164. Marpurg, 1755 (Anleitung): 64 & Marpurg, 1756: 74.

‘good’ quaver, but an articulation which, in spite of the cross-beat fingering, makes
the metric organization clear.
Keyboard Technique and Bach
The above survey of keyboard technique and articulation will serve now as back-
ground for the following discussion of Bach’s approach to keyboard performance
with special emphasis on the Art of Fugue.
With regard to the technical side of Johann Sebastian Bach’s keyboard playing
mainly three sources provide highly valuable information. The first of these is a
rather detailed description by Forkel, who compiled his report based on letters and
encounters with Johann Sebastian Bach’s two eldest sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and
Carl Philipp Emanuel. As stated in that description, the most particular feature of
Sebastian’s keyboard playing, making it so different from that of his predecessors
and contemporaries, was the way he struck the keys:
According to Sebastian Bach’s manner of placing the hand on the keys, the
five fingers are bent so that their points come into a straight line, and so fit
the keys, which lie in a plane surface under them, that no single finger has
to be drawn nearer when it is wanted, but every one is [hovering] over the
key which it may have to press down. What follows from this manner of
holding the hand is:
(1) That no finger must fall upon its key, or (as also often happens) be
thrown on it, but only needs to be placed upon it with a certain consciousness
of the internal power and command over the motion.
(2) The impulse thus given to the keys, or the quantity of pressure, must be
maintained in equal strength, and that in such manner that the finger be
not raised perpendicularly from the key, but that it glide off the forepart of
the key, by gradually drawing back the tip of the finger towards the palm of
the hand.
(3) In the transition from one key to another, this gliding off causes the
quantity of force or pressure with which the first tone has been kept up to be
[flung] with the greatest rapidity to the next finger, so that the two tones are
neither disjoined from each other nor blended together.
The touch is, therefore, as C. Ph. Emanuel Bach says, neither too long nor
too short, but just what it ought to be.
Nach der Seb. Bachischen Art, die Hand auf dem Clavier zu halten, wer-
den die fünf Finger so gebogen, daß die Spitzen derselben in eine gerade
Linie kommen, die sodann auf die in einer Fläche neben einander liegen-
den Tasten so passen, daß kein einziger Finger bey vorkommenden Fällen
erst näher herbey gezogen muß, sondern daß jeder über dem Tasten, den
er etwa nieder drücken soll, schon schwebt. Mit dieser Lage der Hand ist
nun verbunden: 1) daß kein Finger auf seinen Tasten fallen, oder (wie es
ebenfalls oft geschieht) geworfen, sondern nur mit einem gewissen Gefühl
der innern Kraft und Herrschaft über die Bewegung getragen werden darf.
2) Die so auf den Tasten getragene Kraft, oder das Maaß des Drucks muß
in gleicher Stärke unterhalten werden, und zwar so, daß der Finger nicht
gerade aufwärts vom Tasten gehoben wird, sondern durch ein allmähliges
Zurückziehen der Fingerspitzen nach der innern Fläche der Hand, auf dem
vordern Theil des Tasten abgleitet. 3) Beym Uebergange von einem Tasten
zum andern wird durch dieses Abgleiten das Maß von Kraft oder Druck,
womit der erste Ton unterhalten worden ist, in der größten Geschwindigkeit
auf den nächsten Finger geworfen, so daß nun die beyden Töne weder von
einander gerissen werden, noch in einander klingen können. Der Anschlag
derselben ist also, wie C. Ph. Emanuel sagt, weder zu lang noch zu kurz,
sondern genau so wie er seyn muß.165
According to this description, the following features basically constituted ‘the Bach
technique’. Firstly, Bach’s hand position was similar to what, among others, Speer
and Mattheson described as a fist (Faust).166 Secondly, Bach applied a technique of
keyboard playing which is called Schnellen and is characterized by its contracting
finger movement and gliding off the key. Thirdly, he respected the principle of das
ordentliche Fortgehen.
Forkel also emphasized that Bach’s highly effective playing technique was firmly
connected with his concept of articulation and sound – he explained how ‘the Bach
technique’ is the ideal means to realize das ordentliche Fortgehen:
(1) The holding of the fingers bent renders all their motions easy. There can
therefore be none of the scrambling, thumping, and stumbling which is so
common in persons who play with their fingers stretched out, or not suffi-
ciently bent.
(2) The drawing back of the tips of the fingers and the rapid [transfer], the-
reby effected, of the force of one finger to that following it produces the
highest degree of clearness in the expression of the single tones, so that
165. Forkel, 1802: 12-13; English translation in NBR: 432. The NBR translates über dem Tasten schwebt by
‘is ready over the key’ and geworfen by ‘transferred’.
166. Speer, 1687: 67 & 131; Mattheson, 1717: 222.
every passage performed in this manner sounds brilliant, rolling, and

round, as if each tone were a pearl. It does not cost the hearer the least exer-
tion of attention to understand a passage so performed.
(3) By the gliding of the tip of the finger upon the key with an equable pres-
sure, sufficient time is given to the string to vibrate; the tone, therefore, is
not only improved, but also prolonged, and we are thus enabled to play in a
singing style and with proper connection, even on an instrument so poor in
tone as the clavichord is.
All this together has, besides, the very great advantage that we avoid all
waste of strength by useless exertion and by constraint in the motions. In
fact, Seb. Bach is said to have played with so [light] and small a motion of
the fingers that it was hardly perceptible. Only the first joints of the fingers
were in motion; the hand retained, even in the most difficult passages, its
rounded form; the fingers rose very little from the keys, hardly more than
in a shake, and when one was employed, the other remained quietly in its
position. Still less did the other parts of his body take any share in his play,
as happens with many whose hand is not light enough.
1) Die gebogene Haltung der Finger macht jede ihrer Bewegungen leicht.
Das Hacken, Poltern und Stolpern kann also nicht entstehen, welches man
so häufig bey Personen findet, die mit ausgestreckten oder nicht genug
gebogenen Fingern spielen. 2) Das Einziehen der Fingerspitzen nach sich,
und das dadurch bewirkte geschwinde Uebertragen der Kraft des einen
Fingers auf den zunächst darauf folgenden, bringt den höchsten Grad von
Deutlichkeit im Anschlage der einzelnen Töne hervor, so daß jede auf diese
Art vorgetragene Passage glänzend, rollend und rund klingt, gleichsam als
wenn jeder Ton eine Perle wäre. Es kostet dem Zuhörer nicht die mindeste
Aufmerksamkeit, eine so vorgetragene Passage zu verstehen. 3) Durch das
Gleiten der Fingerspitze auf dem Tasten in einerley Maß von Druck wird
der Saite gehörige Zeit zum Vibriren gelassen; der Ton wird also dadurch
nicht nur verschönert, sondern auch verlängert, und wir werden dadurch
in den Stand gesetzt, selbst auf einem so Ton-armen Instrument, wie das
Clavichord ist, sangbar und zusammenhängend spielen zu können. Alles
dieß zusammen genommen hat endlich noch den überaus großen Vortheil,
daß alle Verschwendung von Kraft durch unnütze Anstrengung und durch
Zwang in den Bewegungen vermieden wird. Auch soll Seb. Bach mit einer
so leichten und kleinen Bewegung der Finger gespielt haben, daß man
sie kaum bemerken konnte. Nur die vordern Gelenke der Finger waren in
Bewegung, die Hand behielt auch bey den schwersten Stellen ihre gerun-
dete Form, die Finger hoben sich nur wenig von den Tasten auf, fast nicht
mehr als bey Trillerbewegungen, und wenn der eine zu thun hatte, blieb der
andere in seiner ruhigen Lage. Noch weniger nahmen die übrigen Theile
seines Körpers Antheil an seinem Spielen, wie es bey vielen geschieht, deren
Hand nicht leicht genug gewöhnt ist.167
167. Forkel, 1802: 13-14; English translation in NBR: 432-433. The NBR translates translates Uebertragen
by ‘communication’ and leicht by ‘easy’.
Not accepting the fact that, by nature, the fingers are irregular in strength – which,
as we saw above, greatly influenced earlier keyboard techniques – Bach apparently
strove rather for the independence and equality of each finger, indeed a logical con-
cern for a performer of complex counterpoint:
The natural difference between the fingers in size as well as strength fre-
quently seduces performers, wherever it can be done, to use only the stron-
ger fingers and neglect the weaker ones. Hence arises not only an inequa-
lity in the [touch] of several successive tones, but even the impossibility of
certain passages where no choice of fingers can be made. John Sebastian
Bach was soon sensible of this; and, to obviate so great a defect, wrote for
himself particular pieces, in which all the fingers of both hands must neces-
sarily be employed in the most various positions in order to perform them
properly and distinctly. By this exercise he rendered all his fingers, of both
hands, equally strong and serviceable, so that he was able to execute not
only chords and all running passages, but also single and double shakes
with equal ease and delicacy. He was a perfect master even of those passa-
ges in which, while some fingers perform a shake, the others, on the same
hand, have to continue the melody.
Die natürliche Unterschied der Finger an Größe, so wie an Stärke, verleitet

sehr häufig die Clavierspieler, sich da, wo es nur irgend möglich ist, bloß
der stärkern zu bedienen, und die schwächern zu vernachlässigen. Dadurch
entsteht nicht nur eine Ungleichheit im Anschlage mehrerer auf einander
folgender Töne, sondern sogar eine Unmöglichkeit, gewisse Sätze, wobey
keine Auswahl der Finger Statt findet, heraus zu bringen. Joh. Seb. fühlte dieß
bald, und um einer so fehlerhaften Bildung abzuhelfen, schrieb er sich beson-
dere Stücke, wobey die Finger beyder Hände in den mannigfaltigsten Lagen
nothwendig alle gebraucht werden mußten, wenn sie rein heraus gebracht
werden sollten. Durch solche Uebungen bekamen alle seine Finger beyder
Hände gleiche Stärke und Brauchbarkeit, so daß er nicht nur Doppelgriffe und
alles Laufwerk mit beyden Händen, sondern auch einfache und Doppeltriller
mit gleicher Leichtigkeit und Feinheit auszuführen vermochte. Sogar solche
Sätze hatte er in seiner Gewalt, worin, während einige Finger trillern, die übri-
gen derselben Hand eine Melodie fortzuführen haben.168
One should of course take into account that Forkel’s biography of Bach was pub-
lished 52 years after the latter’s death by an author who had never known Bach nor
heard him play. Thus this report, albeit based on information obtained from Wilhelm
168. Forkel, 1802: 14; English translation in NBR: 433. The NBR translates translates Anschlage by
‘expression’.
Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, we are told, remains the result of what
Forkel speculated was Johann Sebastian Bach’s keyboard technique. Nevertheless,
the other sources referring directly or indirectly to the technical aspects of Bach’s key-
board playing testify along the same lines. First of all, Forkel’s statement about Johann
Sebastian Bach’s achievement in having ten fingers of even strength and dexterity is
confirmed by Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Johann Friedrich Agricola in the Obituary:
All his fingers were equally skilful; all were equally capable of the most per-
fect accuracy in performance.
Alle Finger waren bey ihm gleich geübt; Alle waren zu der feinsten Reinigkeit
in der Ausführung gleich geschickt.169
Similar features to those discussed by Forkel are also emphasized in how good harp-
sichord playing was understood by Quantz – who, for that matter, did hear Bach
play, and who used the latter’s authority to underline the significance of (at least)
one technical aspect:
On each instrument the tone may be produced in different ways, and the
same is true of the harpsichord, although it might appear that on this
instrument everything depends not upon the player, but only upon the
instrument itself. Experience shows, however, that if two musicians play
the same instrument, one produces a better tone than the other. The rea-
son for this must be the touch peculiar to each person. In this regard it is
necessary that each finger strikes the key with equal force and emphasis,
and with the proper weight; that the strings are given sufficient time to
make their vibrations unhindered; and that the fingers are not depressed
too sluggishly, but are rather given, through a snap, a certain force that
will make the vibrations of the strings longer in duration, and sustain the
tone longer. In this fashion you will obviate as much as possible the natu-
ral weakness of the instrument, which is that the tones cannot be joined
together as upon other instruments. Whether you strike one finger more
forcefully than another is also very important. This may happen if you
have accustomed yourself to curve your fingers inwards while extending
others straight forward, a habit that not only causes inequality in the force
of your playing, but is also obstructive to the round, distinct and agreea-
ble execution of quick passage-work. As a result many persons sound as
if they were literally stumbling over the notes if they have to produce a run
of several step-wise notes. If you accustom yourself at the very beginning
to curving all the fingers inwards, each one as far as the others, you are less
likely to make this mistake. In the performance of these running passages,
however, you must not raise the fingers immediately after striking the key,
but rather draw the tips of the fingers back towards yourself to the fore-
most part of the key, until they glide away from it. Running passages are
produced most distinctly in this manner. I appeal here to the example of
one of the greatest of all players on the keyboard [Johann Sebastian Bach],
who practised and taught in this way.
Wie auf einem jeden Instrumente der Ton auf verschiedene Art her-
vor gebracht werden kann; so verhält es sich auch gleichergestalt mit
dem Clavicymbal: ungeachtet man glauben sollte, daß es bey diesem
Instrumente nicht auf den Spieler, sondern nur auf das Instrument allein
ankäme. Dennoch giebt es die Erfahrung, daß wenn das Instrument bald
von dem einen, bald von den andern gespielet wird, der Ton von dem einem
besser als von dem andern heraus gebracht wird. Die Ursache davon muß
folglich auf den Anschlag, den ein jeder verschieden hat, ankommen: ob
derselbe, bey einem jeden Finger mit gleicher Kraft und Nachdruck, und
mit dem rechten Gewichte geschieht; ob man den Seyten die gehörige Zeit
gönnet, daß sie ihren Schwung ungehindert machen können; oder ob man
die Finger mit allzugroßer Gelassenheit niederdrücket, und ihnen nicht,
durch einen Schneller, eine gewisse Kraft giebt, daß die Seyten, um den
Ton länger auszuhalten, in eine länger anhaltende Zitterung versetzet wer-
den können; um den Fehler, so dieses Instrument von Natur hat, daß sich
die Töne nicht, wie auf andern Instrumenten, an einander verbinden, so
viel als möglich ist zu vermeiden. Es kömmt auch viel darauf an, ob man
mit einem Finger stärker als mit dem andern stößt. Dieses kann daraus
folgen, wenn man sich gewöhnet hat, einige Finger einwärts zu beugen,
andere aber gerade auszustrecken: welches nicht nur eine ungleiche Stärke
im Spielen verursachet; sondern auch hinderlich ist, geschwinde Passagien
rund, deutlich und angenehm vorzutragen. Wie es denn bey manchem,
wenn er einen Lauf von etlichen Noten stufenweis zu machen hat, nicht
anders klingt, als wenn er über die Noten wegstolperte. Gewöhnt man sich
aber gleich anfangs, alle Finger, einen so weit als den andern, einwärts zu
beugen; so wird man diesen Fehler nicht leicht begehen. Man muß aber bey
Ausführung der laufenden Noten, die Finger nicht so gleich wieder aufhe-
ben; sondern die Spitzen derselben vielmehr, auf dem vordersten Theile des
Tasts hin, nach sich zurücke ziehen, bis sie vom Taste abgleiten. Auf diese
Art werden die laufenden Passagien am deutlichsten herausgebracht. Ich
berufe mich hierbey auf das Exempel eines der allergrößten Clavierspieler,
der es so ausübte, und lehrete.
Sur chaque instrument le ton peut être rendu de differentes manieres, & il
en est de même sur le Clavecin, quoiqu’en apparence on croiroit, que tout
y dépendit de l’instrument seul, & non pas du joueur. L’expérience prouve,
que si deux Musiciens differens en mérite jouent du même Clavecin, les
tons seront beaucoup meilleurs sous la main du plus habile. On n’en peut
donner d’autre raison que celle qui vient de la differente maniere de tou-
cher, & il est nécessaire à cet égard, que tous les doigts touchent avec une
force égale & avec le juste poids; que l’on donne aux cordes le juste tems,
pour faire leurs vibrations sans obstacles; que l’on ne les touche pas avec
trop de lenteur; leur donnant au contraire, moyennant une tire, une certaine
force qui les fait faire autant de vibrations, qu’il faut pour que le ton dure
plus longtems; & c’est par-là qu’il faut, autant qu’il est possible, obvier au
défaut naturel de cet instrument, qui est que les tons ne peuvent se lier
ensemble comme sur d’autres instruments. Il importe aussi de regarder, si
l’on pousse avec un doigt plus fort qu’avec l’autre. Cela peut arriver, quand
on s’est accoutumé, de courber quelques doigts plus en dedans que les
autres qu’on tient droit; ce qui cause non seulement une force inégale dans
le jeu, mais empeche aussi d’exprimer les passages rondement, distincte-
ment & agréablement; & de cette façon là, devant exécuter un roulement
de quelques notes qui vont par dégré, on ne fait que broncher, pour ainsi
dire, sur les notes. Si au contraire on s’accoutume dabord de courber éga-
lement tous les doigts, les uns pas plus que les autres, on ne tombe pas si
facilement dans cette faute. Outre cela il faut dans l’exécution des pareilles
notes roulantes, ne pas lever brusquement les doigts; il faut plutôt retirer
leur pointe jusqu’au bout anterieur de ta touche,& les glisser en bas de cette
façon là; c’est alors que les passages roulans s’expriment le plus distincte-
ment. J’appuye mon sentiment sur l’exemple d’un des plus habiles joueurs
de Clavecin, qui avoit cette methode & qui l’enseignoit aussi.170
On the other hand, whereas Forkel coherently presented how he thought Bach must
have played, Quantz’s description of keyboard technique contains some significant
lacunae, and an evaluation of the latter against the background of Forkel’s account
yields several issues. Firstly, Quantz, who was the first to use the noun Schneller, nei-
ther defined it nor elaborated on its finger movement as he did for the running pas-
sages. Secondly, with regard to the terms Schneller and Schnellen, these are absent from
his technical explanation about the performance of laufende Passagien. Should we
simply assume that the execution of Quantz’s Schneller included gliding off the key,
confirming this technique reported by Forkel as the general playing style of Johann
Sebastian Bach? If we do, then why did Quantz only describe the running passage
technique characterized by gliding off the key, and not the general technique, to
Johann Sebastian Bach? Before considering this ambiguity, let us first allow Carl
170. Quantz, 1752 (German version): 232-233; Quantz, 1752 (French version): 236-237; English
translation in Reilly, 1966: 259-260. Quantz identified ‘one of the greatest of all players on the
keyboard’ in his index as Johann Sebastian Bach, with reference to ‘his way of placing the fingers at
the keyboard’ (seine Art die Finger auf dem Claviere zu setzen/sa methode de mettre les doigts au Clavecin).
Philipp Emanuel Bach to expound his views on keyboard technique generally, which,
for that matter, strongly resemble those of Forkel and Quantz:
In playing, the fingers should be arched and the muscles relaxed; … Those
who play with [extended fingers and rigid muscles] suffer from one princi-
pal disadvantage in addition to awkwardness; the fingers, because of their
length, are too far removed from the thumb, which should always remain
as close as possible to the hand. … If he [the keyboard player] understands
the correct principles of fingering and has not acquired the habit of making
unnecessary gestures, he will play the most difficult things in such a manner
that the motion of the hands will be barely noticeable.
Man spielt mit gebogenen Fingern und schlaffen Nerven; … Wer mit ausge-
streckten Fingern und steifen Nerven spielt, erfähret ausser der natürlich
erfolgenden Ungeschicklichkeit, noch einen Haupt-Schaden, nehmlich er
entfernt die übrigen Finger wegen ihrer Länge zu weit von dem Daumen,
welcher doch so nahe als möglich beständig bey der Hand seyn muß. …
versteht er [der Spieler] die wahre Applicatur, so wird er, wenn er anders
sich nicht unnöthige Gebehrden angewöhnt hat, die schweresten Sachen so
spielen, daß man kaum die Bewegung der Hände siehet.171
More technical than Forkel and Quantz, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach elaborated fur-
ther on the importance of keeping the thumb on or above the key:
Those who do not use the thumb let it hang to keep it out of the way. Such a
position makes even the most moderate [extension] uncomfortable, for the
fingers must stretch and stiffen in order to encompass it. Can anything be
well executed this way? The thumbs give the hand not only another digit, but
the key to all fingering. This principal finger performs another service in that
it keeps the others supple, for they must remain arched as it makes its entry
after one or another of them. Those passages which, without the thumb, must
be pounced upon with stiff, tensed muscles, can be played roundly, clearly,
with a natural extension, and a consequent facility when it lends its assistance.
Wer den Daumen nicht braucht, der läßt ihn herunter hangen, damit er ihm
nicht im Wege ist; solcher Gestalt fällt die mäßigste Spannung schon unbe-
quem, folglich müssen die Finger ausgestreckt und steiff werden um solche
heraus zu bringen. Was kan man auf diese Art wohl besonders ausrichten?
Der Gebrauch des Daumens giebt der Hand nicht nur einen Finger mehr,
sondern zugleich den Schlüssel zur ganzen möglichen Applicatur. Dieser
Haupt-Finger macht sich noch überdem dadurch verdient, weil er die
171. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 18; English translation in Mitchell, 1949/1951: 42-43 (words between brackets:
my English translation).
übrigen Finger in ihrer Geschmeidigkeit erhält, indem sie sich allezeit bie-
gen müssen, wenn der Daumen sich bald beydiesem bald jenem Finger ein-
dringt. Was man ohne ihn mit steiffen und gestreckten Nerven bespringen
muste, das spielt man durch seine Hülffe anjetzo rund, deutlich, mit ganz
natürlichen Spannungen, folglich leichte.172
When it comes to Schnellen, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach provided the most concrete
information, thereby, like Quantz, not describing this technique in a generalized
way but rather reserving it for specific issues – for quickly repeated notes, for one
or two fingers in some of his trills and for the execution of running passages. His
Versuch contains, in the first two of those three contexts for which Schnellen is required,
clear descriptions of this technique, both emphasizing the extreme speed of the fin-
ger. Firstly, Bach recommended Schnellen for fast note repetitions using two fingers,
explaining its execution as follows:
This Schnellen occurs when each finger glides off the key as swiftly as possi-
ble, so that every newly struck note can be distinctly heard.
Dieses Schnellen entsteht dadurch, indem jeder Finger so hurtig als möglich
von der Taste abgleiten muß, damit jedes Einsetzen deutlich gehört werden
könne.173
Secondly, with regard to trills, he applied Schnellen to (mostly) their penultimate note:
The highest note of trills, when it occurs for the last time, must be geschnellt,
that is after this stroke the tip of the finger is sharply bent, drawn back and
glided off the key as swiftly as possible.
Der höchste Ton bey den Trillern, wenn er zum letzten mahl vorkomt, wird
geschnellt, d. i. daß man nach diesem Anschlage die Spitze des auf das
geschwindeste ganz krumm eingebogenen Fingers aus das hurtigste von
der Taste zurücke ziehet und abgleiten läßt.174
172. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 19; English translation in Mitchell, 1949/1951: 43 (word between brackets: my
English translation). Note that, by only quoting the first sentence of this fragment, Mark Lindley
incorrectly argues that ‘(particularly in the right hand) [the thumb] may often hang some distance
shy of the near end of the keys, to facilitate lateral extensions among the other fingers’ (Lindley,
1985: 210).
174. Ibid.: 73.
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s description of the third type of application of Schnellen,
that for the running passages – which in fact strongly echoes Quantz’s – also leaves
no doubt on how it should be technically realized, although indirectly:
In the most rapid passages as well one should give every note its required
pressure; otherwise the touch is uneven and unclear. These passages are
usually geschnellet in the way pointed out with regard to the trills.
Auch in den geschwindesten Gedancken muß man hiebey jeder Note ihren
gehörigen Druck geben; sonsten ist der Anschlag ungleich und undeutlich.
Diese Gedancken werden gemeiniglich nach der bey den Trillern angeführ-
ten Art geschnellet.175
While it is true that Quantz, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Forkel were not unani-
mous in describing ‘the Bach technique’ and, more specifically, how Schnellen entered
into it, this troubles me less than it does for instance David Ledbetter, who, more-
over, heavily underestimates this technique with regard to Carl Philipp Emanuel
Bach, the latter making some twenty references to Schnellen throughout his treatise:
For something that is described in so much detail as a fundamental aspect
of Bach’s keyboard technique by Quantz and Forkel, it is curious that
C. P. E. Bach mentions it only for very rare and restricted situations. … The
true nature of this touch is mysterious in that the two people who had direct
experience of Bach’s playing (Quantz and C. P. E. Bach) are at variance.176
175. Ibid.: 118. One could be tempted to dismiss Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s guidelines with regard
to Schnellen when playing the harpsichord, arguing that his Versuch is in fact a clavichord treatise.
Although this overall focus on the clavichord is undoubtedly correct, it did not exclude other
keyboard instruments. After all, in the introduction Carl Philipp Emanuel stated the following:
‘Every keyboardist should own a good harpsichord and also a good clavichord to enable him to
play all things interchangeably.’ (Jeder Clavierist soll von Rechtswegen einen guten Flügel und auch ein gutes
Clavichord haben, damit er auf beyden allerley Sachen abwechselnd spielen könne.) C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 10-11;
English translation in Mitchell, 1949/1951: 37. Moreover, he specified that his Probe-Stücke were
intended for both instruments (C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 9-10). We even have indirect proof that Carl
Philipp Emanuel applied Schnellen to harpsichord playing. Consider the end of his explanation on
Schnellen and quick repeated notes: ‘This kind of passages is most easily [my emphasis] performed
on the clavichord.’ (Auf dem Clavicorde bringt man am leichtesten diese Art von Passagien heraus.) C. P. E.
Bach, 1753, 46; English translation in Mitchell, 1949/1951: 74. The term am leichtesten obviously
implies that this technique could also be used on the other instrument that each Clavierist should
own and play, the harpsichord. Otherwise he would undoubtedly have chosen ‘exclusively’ or
‘only’. Another link between Schnellen and harpsichord playing is found in Quantz’s treatise, who,
as we saw, specifically described this technique with regard to the Clavicymbal/Clavecin.
176. Ledbetter, 2002: 135.
In fact, I do not necessarily see their accounts as fundamentally incompatible or con-

tradictory, but would rather argue that this apparent disagreement is caused basi-
cally by a different concept of Schnellen than by a different view on keyboard playing.
When Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach explained what is required from a harpsichordist
in order to obtain a good sound during ‘normal’ play, he used the same term as
Quantz did – ‘strength in the finger’ (Kraft in die Finger) –177 without, however, unlike
the latter, linking the term Schneller or Schnellen to this finger action. After all, for Carl
Philipp Emanuel Bach Schnellen only had its particular use, always implying the sharp
and extremely fast bending of the fingertip off the key.178 As for Quantz, he seemed
to have described his new term Schneller as the standard, firm finger movement to
and including the striking of the key. Thus, regarding the regular playing style, both
Quantz and Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach specified the finger action producing sound,
whereas they did not make explicit how the finger should, or could, leave the key.
On the other hand, Forkel did claim that Johann Sebastian Bach systematically had
his fingers glide off the keys to obtain an ideal harpsichord sound, a statement caus-
ing the only real issue concerning the comparative evaluation of the accounts and
guidelines of these three authors. Did Quantz and Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach hold
firmly to versatility on how the finger should leave the key, or were they rather indif-
ferent as to what the finger does once it has produced the sound, even allowing it to
be raised perpendicularly from the key? Or did Forkel perhaps report too partially
the way Johann Sebastian Bach technically played the keyboard, the latter not always
using the contracting finger action gliding off the key?
Although complete answers to these questions do not exist, one can assess
experimentally how efficient the technique discussed by Forkel is for notes executed
according to the principle of das ordentliche Fortgehen. For relatively long note values
performed in this ‘usual’ way its application results in a slow form of contracting
finger action comprising two more or less distinct movements of the fingertip. The
finger first strikes the key intended to obtain an ideal sound. With the second move-
ment, the pressure needed to hold down the key is transferred to the next fingertip

178. That this technique requires the greatest possible velocity in the finger can result occasionally,
according to Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, in ‘a momentary stiffness in the sinews’ (eine Steiffe der
Nerven; ibid.: 19). Another exception to his ideal of a generally unstrained playing style was the use
of a stiff finger in the context of certain trills. He explained, for instance, that the first and last note
of a Schneller, an ornament defined by Bach as a ‘short [three-note] mordent in contrary motion’
(kurzer Mordent in der Gegen-Bewegung), are to be played ‘with the stiff finger’ (mit dem steiffen Finger)
while the middle one should be geschnellt (ibid.: 111).
by the former finger gliding off its key so that the touch is ‘neither too long nor too
short, but just what it ought to be’. Contrary to the running passage technique, the
finger movement following the one striking the key can, as mentioned by Forkel,
occur ‘gradually’. The first, firmer finger movement, therefore, can be separated
from the second, gradual one by a span of time during which the finger remains
motionless. When the note values become longer, this moment of immobility can
increase or the second finger movement can become slower. On the other hand, the
smaller and faster the note values are, the faster this second finger movement should
be executed, even possibly eliminating the moment of immobility between the two
finger movements. In this case the ‘slower’ form of Schellen for quicker notes per-
formed according to the principle of das ordentliche Fortgehen can even resemble the
running passage technique, in the sense that not two distinct but one continuous
movement of the fingertip is required to strike and leave the key. (The main differ-
ence between the two techniques is that the former does not call for the extreme
speed of the latter.)
As we saw above, keyboard articulation cannot be limited to das ordentliche
Fortgehen, but should include a wide variety of touches and articulations in order
to ensure a captivating musical discourse. The timing, therefore, of both fingertip
movements, and even the complete concept of this slow(er) form of Schnellen, can
vary, depending on the desired articulation. When more articulation is required than
prescribed by das ordentliche Fortgehen, for instance in the form of a rest separating
two notes, one obviously cannot transfer the pressure from one finger to another.
Rather, each finger individually and independently makes both movements. One
could of course argue that the second movement in this case is redundant; the finger
could also be lifted vertically in the opposite direction of the first movement. While
the latter is a valuable option, the gliding-off is without doubt as functional for end-
ing the note. Alternatively, when one wants to slur two notes, the next finger will
start its first movement at exactly the same moment as (or even a fraction before) the
gliding-off of the first.
•
Let us now elaborate on the historical information for Bach’s fingering. Judging
from the Obituary, it could appear as if Johann Sebastian Bach invented ‘modern’
fingering, that is using the thumb as principal finger:
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. Before him, the most famous clavier players in Germany and other
lands had used the thumb but little. All the better did he know how to use it.
Er hatte sich so eine bequeme Fingersetzung ausgesonnen, daß es ihm nicht

schwer fiel, die größten Schwierigkeiten mit der fließendesten Leichtigkeit
vorzutragen. Vor ihm hatten die berühmtesten Clavieristen in Deutschland
und andern Ländern, dem Daumen wenig zu schaffen gemacht. Desto bes-
ser wußte er ihn zu gebrauchen.179
Notwithstanding that Johann Sebastian Bach definitively contributed to the develop-

ment of this aspect of keyboard technique to a large extent, it is an oversimplification
that this was uniquely his discovery, the attribution probably being a result of chau-
vinism and pomp by Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Agricola. It would rather seem
that, independently from each other and approximately in the same period, several
great keyboard players had started to consider the thumb as a more important finger
than it had been before. For instance, in 1724, Rameau, like the Bach circle, also
described how the use of the thumb can facilitate keyboard playing:
To continue a fast scale-like passage [exceeding the compass of a fifth] …

one should only accustom oneself to passing the first finger under any other
finger one wishes, and to passing one of those fingers over the first. This
way is excellent, especially when one encounters sharps or flats.
Pour continuer un roulement plus étendu …, il n’y a qu’à s’accoutumer à

passer le I. par-dessous tel autre doigt que l’on veut, & à passer l’un de ces
autres doigts par-dessus le I. Cette maniere est excellente, sur-tout quand il
s’y rencontre des Diézes ou des Bemols.180
This upgrade of the thumb to a principal finger did not mean that Bach completely
and suddenly abandoned paired or crossed fingerings. Consider example 17.

180. Rameau, 1724: 5; my English translation.
M M Ï ÏmM Î
Ï Ï ä Ï™Ï Ï ÏÏjj ÏÏ ™™
5 5
ú
3 4 3 4 5
ú
5
Ï Ï Mú Ï Mú Ï
4 3
c ÏÏ
3
&
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï3 4 3 Ï1
3 4 3 4
#ú 3 5 4 ÏM Ï ™™
M Î Î MÏ
2 2
1 Ï
2 Ï
1 Ï Mú
1
3 2 M 2 Ï
? c úú Ï Ï
2
úú ÏÏ Ï
1
{ úú úú Ï
™™
2 3 Î
mM 5
4 5
3 2 1 Ï Ï ™ #Ï ú
Ï5 Ï4 Ï3 Ï2 µ ! 4j 5 U
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï™
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ïú
5 !
& ™ Ï Ï J Ï b Ï
Î Ï™ ÏJ Ï mÏ Ï Ï
™ ™™
m
ú ú Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï2 Ï34 43 52 33 Ï22 Ï11 Ï22 31 5 MÏ M 2 1 2
1
ú ú ú ú Ï
1
ú
3
? ™™ Ï ÏÏÏ M ÏÏ
{ Î Ï Îú Ï u
™™
5 4
Example 17: Applicatio in C major BWV 994.
The Applicatio (‘Fingering’) in C major BWV 994 from the Clavier-Büchlein vor Wilhelm
Friedemann Bach (started 22 January 1720) is one of the only two pieces almost com-
pletely fingered by Sebastian Bach. It is intended as an exercise for scale-like pas-
sages using paired fingerings, illustrating in a well organized way how the kind of
paired fingering depends on the hand and on the direction of the scale.181 Right hand
ascending lines are played with an on-beat 3‑4 paired fingering, right hand descend-
ing lines with an on-beat 3‑2 paired fingering and left hand ascending lines also
with a cross-beat 1‑2 paired fingering (descending lines in the left hand requiring
crossing do not occur).182 From these types of paired fingerings it seems that Bach
181. The possible criticisms that paired fingering for scale-like passages only represented an early
view of Johann Sebastian Bach, or had a merely pedagogical purpose and nothing to do with
actual keyboard playing – what is the sense, then, of such an exercise? – are strongly refuted by
the testimonies on fingering of, amongst others, Carl Philipp Emanuel and Wilhelm Friedemann
Bach. As we saw above, Wilhelm Friedemann was renowned for his 3‑4 paired fingering technique
in scales and Carl Philipp Emanuel recommended paired fingering for scale-like passages in simple
keys in order to avoid stumbling by the passing under of the thumb using ‘modern’ fingering.
182. It is not clear whether the on-beat 3‑2 paired fingering in bar 5 is due to the presence of the trill in
the middle of the bar or whether it was his first fingering choice for descending lines in the right
hand. Would Bach still have fingered the c2 with a third finger when the trill would not have been
there or rather played it with the thumb, resulting in cross-beat 1‑2 paired fingering? We find a
suggestion for the latter in bar 7b‑8a (middle voice), which contains a cross-beat paired fingering
1‑2 for a descending line, albeit the only technically realistic fingering for this setting. In any case,
since both paired fingerings are present in the Applicatio, he obviously approved of both.
deliberately opted for those easily allowing the performer to play the ornaments
and to differentiate between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes. (One can assess experimentally
that, thanks to the flexible, horizontal movement of thumb, the cross-beat 1‑2 paired
fingering does not necessarily jeopardize the metric clarity.) Should we conclude,
therefore, that Johann Sebastian Bach rejected the cross-beat 3‑4 and 3‑2 paired fin-
gerings for right hand ascending and descending lines respectively? Or did he simply
regard the on-beat versions of these paired fingering as the ideal means to com-
bine the training of right hand scale-like passages with the conception of Quantitas
Intrinseca Notarum for a nine-year old boy? If he was reluctant to use these cross-beat
fingerings, was this a lifelong opinion or did it change somewhere along the road?
Although the historical evidence is scarce, I would still argue that Bach must have
approved of the cross-beat 3‑4 paired fingering, at least during the later stage of
his life. I cannot see how otherwise both Marpurg and Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach
advocated it, whereas their mentor would have firmly opposed it. Moreover, this fin-
gering also occurs, albeit only once, in a copy of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Prelude and
Fughetta in C major BWV 870a made and extensively figured by Johann Caspar Vogler,
one of Bach’s first and most successful students, and his eventual successor as court
organist at Weimar.183 Since Vogler copied this piece during his stay at Bach’s house
in December 1729 on Bach’s own paper,184 it is fair to assume that Vogler’s finger-
ings are the direct result of meeting Bach. Example 18 shows how Vogler, in the bass
of bar 31 of the Fughetta, deliberately avoided modern thumb-under fingering (which
I have suggested in brackets) in favour of the ‘old’, cross-beat 3‑4 paired fingering.
?c ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ
31
Ï
3 2 4 (3 4) 3 4 3
[3 1 2 3 4]
Example 18: Fughetta in C major BWV 870a/2, copy by Johann Caspar Vogler, bar 31

(only left hand).
Whether or not Johann Sebastian Bach considered the latter a regular fingering
already before 1729 – and if he did, from what date – is impossible to say, just as
his approval of the cross-beat 3‑2 paired fingering cannot possibly be established
either – we do not find this cross-beat 3‑2 fingering in the two pieces fingered by
183. This piece is an early version of the Prelude and Fugue 1 in C major BWV 870 from WTC 2. It dates
from 1726 or later (see NBA, KB V/6.2: 345-346).
184. Schulze, 1978: 28-33.
Bach or in Vogler’s copy of BWV 870a. Bach possibly even limited or abandoned

the use of the on-beat 3‑2 paired fingering towards the end of his life; neither Carl
Philipp Emanuel Bach nor Marpurg listed the on-beat or cross-beat 3‑2 paired finger-
ings among their approved paired fingerings, the former even listing them amongst
the finger crossings to avoid:
passing the second finger over the third, [and] the third over the second …
is reprehensible.
das Ueberschlagen des zweyten Fingers über den dritten, [und] des dritten
über den zweyten … ist verwerflich.185
One feature of Bach’s keyboard technique did arguably evolve during his life.
Although remaining a matter for conjecture, the sources suggest that, similarly to
the general keyboard practice at the beginning of the eighteenth century, Bach did
not perhaps apply the passing under of the thumb after a third or fourth finger until
roughly 1730. After all, his two fingered works and Vogler’s copy of BWV 870a com-
pletely avoid this fingering, most strikingly illustrated by example 18. On the other
hand, since Marpurg, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Kirnberger approved of these
modern fingerings for scales, we may assume that Bach must also have done this
at least after 1730. The opposite fingering, the passing of the third or fourth finger
over the thumb, was apparently, even in his early days, less of a problem for Bach.
It occurs, albeit only once, in the Praeambulum in G minor BWV 930, but the general
keyboard practice and several instances in the Fughetta confirm its legitimization:
b 3 Ï Ïb Ï 26 3 1 2 1 5 1 n 412 Ï2 b Ï4 Ï Ï (1)Ï Ï4
Ï Ï nÏ Ï b Ï Ï n 4 Ï Ï#Ï
1 4 2 3 5 1
&b 4 Ï
25
Ï Ï
Example 19: Praeambulum in G minor BWV 930, bars 25-26 (only right hand); Fughetta in
C major BWV 870a/2, copy by Johann Caspar Vogler, bar 12a (only right hand).
Whereas the Applicatio showed the young Wilhelm Friedemann how to finger scale-like
passages properly, with the Praeambulum BWV 930, which his father also extensively
fingered, he was taught what he could and could not do with regard to the fingering
of broken chords. From this piece we learn that Johann Sebastian Bach allowed a
thumb on a raised key only for an octave leap on raised keys or for a broken, four-voice

chord of which its outer notes encompass an octave on raised keys. When one of these
conditions does not apply, a thumb on a raised key does not seem to be an option:
b Ï Ï Ï Ïb Ï Ï22 Ïb Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï23 Ï Ï
2 4 2 1 5 1 2 5 4 3 5 2 3 5 2 1 5 2
& b 43 bÏ Ï Ï Ï
21
µ¶
? bb 3 Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
{ 4
5 2 5 3 2 1 2 3 4
Example 20: Praeambulum in G minor BWV 930, bars 21-23.
Bach clearly did not want his son to play the b¨1 or the a¨1 with the thumb, even when
this results in a wide stretch and an unusual passing of the third finger over the second.
With the next section, I hope to show, from the following examples from the Art
of Fugue, that an understanding of these ‘old’ fingering principles can result in a
more comprehensible way of performing this music, that is, that paired and crossed
fingerings often permit the better shaping of the motifs in relation to the Quantitas
Intrinseca Notarum than modern fingering would do.
To the alto at the beginning of Contrapunctus 10 I have added usable and ‘histori-
cally inspired’ fingerings besides one (questionable) modern fingering in brackets:
[1 2 3 4] 4
·4 1 · 2 Ï5 1 2 3 4· Ï3 Ï4 Ï5 Ï Ï3 Ï2 1· 2 1 3
1 2 3
& bC ÏÏÏÏ Ï#Ï Ï Ï

3 3
Î #Ï Ï Ï Î Ï Ï
? C · · î Î #Ï Ï Ï Î Ï
{ b · ·
& b Ï Ï #Ï Ï·ú Ï Ï Ï #Ï·ú Ï Ï4 Ï3 Ï2 ·3/1 2 1

5 6 7
ÏÏÏ
1 2
3 4 14 52
Ï ÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏ ÏÏú

?b Ï ÏÏÏÏ Ï Ï
# ÏÏ nÏ
{ · · Î
5 4 3 2 1 2 1 2 3 4 3 4

Since the Art of Fugue dates from the end of Bach’s life, a thumb on the a1 passing
under the fourth finger which just played the g1 in the right hand of bar 3 would in
itself have been possible. The continuation of the line, however, makes clear that
a paired 3‑4 fingering is a much better choice. These fingerings also help to shape
this bar’s two motifs. The first motif, an ascending tetrachord, is nicely delineated
from the second one, an anapaest, by the passing of the third over the fourth finger,
the latter finger playing the last note of the first motif, the former the first note of the
second motif. From all this one can easily see that the modern fingering (in brackets)
with the thumb on the weak g1 is really not a good option.
My right hand fingering in bar 5 illustrates another 3 passing over 4, again a
choice based on my concern to bring out the motifs as clearly as possible. In the
first half of this bar there twice occurs a motif of a third, the first one descending,
the second ascending. Although one could play the a1 with the third finger and the
following b¨1 with 4, my fingering suggestion results in a more natural fingering for
the second, ascending third, being 2‑4. Moreover, thanks to the passing of the third
over the fourth finger, the next segment of the sequence is well prepared with regard
to fingering.
In bar 7 two fingerings for the g1 in the right hand are possible. When one prefers
the older fingering, one will play it with 3, otherwise with the thumb.
(Note that bar 3 of the above example illustrates another aspect of German eight-
eenth-century Baroque fingering: when no ornament occurs on its first note, ‘the
standard scalic fingerings often begin with three consecutive fingers until the ‘good’
[here the third] finger is reached’.186)
The Canon alla Duodecima also contains several passages where the passing of
the third over the fourth finger is the first fingering choice to delineate the motifs
besides being, purely technically, the easiest option:
Ï Ï ä ÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ Ï
29 30 31 54 55 4 3 2 4 3 2 1 3 56
&b C Ï ä Ï Ï
1 2 3 4 3 2 4 3 2 1 3 4 1 2 3 4
Ï
Ï n Ï # Ï Ï Ï Ï# Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 22: Canon alla Duodecima, bars 29-31a & 54-56a.
The application of paired and crossed fingerings did not only relate to one-voiced scale-
like passages in one hand. For contrapuntal textures in which one hand performs (at
186. Butt, 1990: 52. See also the right hand in bar 5a of the Applicatio.
least) two voices, they are indispensable assets in order to respect the melodic and
metric logic of each line. Consider example 23, whose texture includes a long series
of parallel thirds in the right hand for which I provide two possible fingering models.
3 4 5 4 3 4
ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï ú1
4 5 3 4 1 2 3 2 1 2 3 4
Ï
a) 2 3 1 2
Ï Ï Ï î Ïú #úú
89 2
Ï
87
&b C Ï
88
î
Ï Ï äÏ j ÏÏ ÏÏ
?bC ú Ï ™ Ï ÏÏ Ïú ™ # Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï ú Ï Ï# ÏÏ Ï
{ J ä
3 4 3 4 3
3 4
ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ 88 ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ úú
4 3 4 1 2 1 2 1 5
1 2 4
Ï
b) 87 2 1 2
Ï #úú
3
Ï Ï î
89 2
&b Ï Ï î
Ï Ï äÏ j Ï Ï
? ú Ï ™ Ï ÏÏ Ïú ™ # Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï ú Ï Ï Ï Ï# ÏÏ Ï
{ b J ä
At first sight it could appear that both versions have advantages as well as disad-
vantages. Example 23a offers the more obvious fingering in bar 87 to respect the
Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum – the ascending lines are played with on-beat paired
fingerings – moreover allowing a crisp performance of the anapaest. For the same
reason, one might prefer the on-beat paired fingering for the descending lines
of example 23b in bar 88 over the cross-beat paired fingering of example 23a.
Nevertheless, I argue that the latter is preferable. After all, the physical grouping
of the first three quavers in the upper voices of bar 88a yields articulation before
the fourth quaver, which nicely underlines the introduction of a passing chord on
that quaver (see the c©1 in the tenor).
In example 24 I have assembled several more extracts from the Art of Fugue illus-
trating how crossed or paired fingerings can enable a harpsichordist to realize
Bach’s voice-leading without ‘thumbing and stumbling’.
j 41 Ï î Î Ï
ä
C ÏÏ Ï ú Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ#Ï Ï Ï #Ï ú·
5 1
4 5 4 5 4
& b C Ïú nÏ Ï úÏ Ï c nÏ ™ Ï ™ #ÏnÏ ú
33 40 228 229
2 1 2
J
Ï1 Î î Î ú Ï Ï Ï ÏbÏ ÏnÏ Ï
1 2 1 2 1
#Ï Ï
1 2 1 2
? b C y úÏ bÏ Ï Ï î Ï Ï #Ï
1 1
C
nÏ Ï Ï Ï Î Ï #Ï n Ï nÏ Ï
c Ï Ï n Ï Ï #ÏnÏ Ï Ï Î Ï
Ï
{ 2 3 4
3
5 3 4 5 3 4 3 2 5 3 4 3 4 5 5
Example 24: Contrapunctus 4, bar 33; Contrapunctus 11, bars 40-41a; Contrapunctus 14,

bars 228-229.
In spite of the use of crossed and paired fingerings, playing keyboard polyphony occa-
sionally results in stretches such that an on-beat dissonance cannot be slurred to its
resolution – we saw above that this slur belonged to standard practice. On the third
beat of bar 4 of the Applicatio, for instance, Bach marked that the c2 and b1 should both be
played with the right hand’s fifth finger, obviously the only convenient way of fingering
this appoggiatura and its resolution because of the three-part chords (see example 17).
Similarly, the thumb often has to play both an on-beat dissonance and its resolution:
· Ï
#Ï Ï nÏ ú ·
139 140
& b c ú™ #Ï
2 3
4 5 5
ÏÏ ÏÏú Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï
2 1 2 1 2 1 (1) 1 2 1
? b c Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
{ Ï n Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï
Even when there is possibility to slur both notes via finger replacement, Carl Philipp
Emanuel Bach was not fond of it, arguing rather that:
this progression of a repeated finger is more natural, especially with regard
to tied note, if one has the choice, than the replaced finger.
dieses Fortsetzen [eines Fingers ohne Abwechslung] natürlicher sey,

zumahl bey Bindungen, wenn man die Wahl hat, als das Ablösen.187
He illustrated this point of view with several examples, of which I have reproduced
the most striking one in the following example:
187. C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 46 (words between brackets from ibid.: 43); my English translation.
ä j Ï Ïj Ï bÏ
3 5 5 5 5
& bÏ ™ Ï Ï Ï bÏ
J
2 2 1 1
Example 26: C. P. E. Bach, 1753: Tab. II Fig. LVI.
While a fourth finger on b¨1 seems to be the first fingering choice, causing no exag-
gerated stretch and moreover allowing the nice resolution of the major seventh d¨1‑c2,
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach still prescribed 5.
This same principle is reflected in Vogler’s copy of BWV 870a/2, from which it
seems appropriate also to apply it to the following passage from the Art of Fugue as
well as to all similar passages from Bach’s keyboard oeuvre:
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
5
Ï Ï Ï
5 5
Ï
31 5 5
Ï Ï
32 5
& c b Ï ú ú ú
M
3 2 1
Ï
1 1
?c Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏ Ï
{ Ï ÏÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ Ï
3 2 4 2 3 4 3 2 4 2 4 2 4 2 1 2 1 4
Ï Ï ú
(5) (5) (5)
& b c ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï Ï ú
38 39 40 (5) (5)
Ï ú ú ú Ï
ú
Î
? b c Ïú Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ ·Ï(1) Ï Ï Ï
(2) (1) (1) (1)
Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï· Ï Ï Ï
{ ÏÏÏÏ Ï
Example 27: Fughetta in C major BWV 870a/2, copy by Johann Caspar Vogler, bars 31-32;

Contrapunctus 5, bars 38-40.
This fingering actually underlines that, as I have argued in the previous chapter,
when a suspension resolves into the preparation for a new suspension, both notes
need to be emphasized.
•
Finally, I will examine the different types of Bach’s keyboard slurs with special atten-
tion to the Art of Fugue and, more significantly, how they (can) make the performance
enthralling. As was the general eighteenth-century custom, Bach mostly wrote his
slurs to indicate a deviation from regular practice. One of the most ‘common’ of these
exceptions was the cross-beat slur, illustrated in, for instance, the Canon alla Duodecima:
Ï Ï
Ï ÏÏÏÏ #Ï
4 5 37 38
&b C · î
? b C Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï ÏÏÏÏ ÏÏ
Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï
{ Ï
i ii° vii°7 VI ii6 vii°7 (V)
[i iv ]
Example 28: Canon alla Duodecima, bars 4-5a & 37-38a.
Without the slur in bar 4 (and in all similar places), a keyboard player most likely
would have seen the e as a relatively unimportant passing note between the root and
third of the tonic chord, and the g in the middle of the bar as the root of a subdominant
chord, metrically being the second best note of the bar – a blameless judgement (see
the implied harmonies between brackets). Yet, thanks to Bach’s slur, bar 4 becomes
much more exciting, for it temporarily avoids the regularity of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ notes.
Instead of being a passing note, the e really functions as the root of ii°, while the g, in
its turn, has been rendered less important, merely prolonging ii°. Consequently, this
special metrical organization implies a special harmonic rhythm: the tonic chord on
the downbeat of bar 4 only lasts one crotchet while ii° is kept for the rest of the bar.188
Another type of cross-beat slur can occur as a result of a compound line. Although
the fragment in the following example is written in three voices, four voices are really
implied.
Î úÏ ™ nÏ ú Ï w
ú Ï ú Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #ÏÏ
ú™ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï
59 60 61 62 63
& b C nú ™ Ï ú Ï Î Ï
Î
?bC Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ Ï
{ Ï. Ï. Ï. Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï. Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï. ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 29: Presto from the Italian Concerto in F major BWV 971, bars 59-63.
188. The fact that the b¨ is not included within the slur, is intended, as I see it, to take up the rhythmic
energy after this unexpected slur and before the next slur on the following downbeat.
The left hand in fact consists of a tenor part characterized by its slurred, off-beat
seven-quaver motif and of a pedal on G in the bass marked off by a dot on each
downbeat.
A more unusual type of slur can be observed in the Canon per Augmentationem in
Contrario Motu, the only piece in the Art of Fugue in which certain slurs, besides being
also cross-beat, extend their reach far beyond what was normal. Consider exam-
ple 30, which contains two such slurs.
b C ÏbÏnÏ Ï#Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï

15 16 19 20
& ÏÏÏ J j Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ïn Ï

Ï b Ï n Ï Ï # Ï Ï#Ï
?bC Ï
{ Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï #Ï Ï
Ï
Ï Ï #Ï Ï #Ï
nÏ
Example 30: Canon per Augmentationem in Contrario Motu, bars 15-16 & 19-20.
With this slurring Bach most likely not only wanted to avoid the first-choice articu-
lation per two chromatic notes, but also to deprive it of its sighing, complaining
Affekt. Chromaticism thus becoming more a purely compositional idea rather than
an expression of emotion, these two long cross-beat slurs hint at a horizontal,
neutral execution devoid of any accent. Alternatively, John Butt, amongst others,
has suggested in his book Bach Interpretation – Articulation Marks in Primary Sources of
J. S. Bach that this kind of slur is perhaps a shorthand for shorter slurs.189 To illus-
trate this possibility, he compared the slurring of Inventio 9 in F minor BWV 780
with the earlier version of this piece, Praeambulum 11 from the Clavier-Büchlein vor
Wilhelm Friedemann Bach:
a) b)
b 4
& b bb 43 Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ
4
Ï Ï
? bb b 3 Ï
b4 Å ÏnÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Å ÏnÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï
{
Example 31: Praeambulum 11 in F minor, bar 4; Inventio 9 in F minor BWV 780, bar 4.
189. Butt, 1990: 166.

While Bach merely wrote three, fairly regular looking slurs in this Praeambulum –
two of which are in bar 4 (see example 31a), he not only decided on adding many
more slurs when revising the piece and changing its name into Inventio, but also,
more significantly, on making the slurs longer. For instance, instead of preserving
the initial slurs of bar 4, he wrote one slur above all twelve semiquavers in the right
hand (see example 31b). Yet I see no reason why these long slurs would suggest
anything else than what they stand for. Could it not be that Bach, during the review-
ing process, simply did not like the initial slurs in bar 4 of the Praeambulum any more
because they implied (too) ‘good’ second and third beats? In my opinion, only this
hypothesis can explain the many eight and twelve semiquaver slurs Bach added to
the score of Inventio 9, which, in fact, repeatedly remind the player of this piece’s
unusual prevailing articulation.
Obviously, as example 31a illustrated, slurs were not exclusively reserved for
‘exceptional cases’, but could also occur to delineate a motif, while insisting that all
the notes encompassed are slurred instead of simply ‘grouped’ via a playing man-
ner based on the principle of das ordentliche Fortgehen. We also find such slurs, for
instance, on the downbeat of bar 7 in the Canon alla Duodecima and on the downbeat
of bar 2 and 3 of the Canon per Augmentationem in Contrario Motu, delineating an ana-
paest and two dactyli respectively:190
7 2 3
&b C · C Ï Ï bú
Ï Ï # Ï ÏnÏ ú Ï
? C Ï Ï Ï ä Ï Ï#Ï C · ·
{b
Example 32: Canon alla Duodecima, bar 7; Canon per Augmentationem in Contrario Motu,
bars 2-3.
One particular kind of obvious slur, the one connecting an appoggiatura with its
resolution, needs some further explanation. As Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach stated,
this slur belonged to the standard articulations, whether or not it was indicated in
190. Occasionally Bach also specified when he intended neither slurring nor das ordentliche Fortgehen, the
dot in the following example instead implying a highly articulated final note of the anapaest:
?bC Ï. Ï.
14
#Ï Ï #Ï nÏ
Example 33: Canon alla Duodecima, bar 14 (only left hand).
the score (see above). If this slurring was so straightforward, why did composers
then write it in certain cases and not in others? Is this simply due to indifference or
nonchalance? Although there exists no well grounded historical evidence, and I do
not want to generalize, I would still argue that the presence or absence of such a slur
could, at least in certain cases, be intentional, and have an influence on the way an
appoggiatura and its resolution are performed. Compare, for instance, the first half
of the fugue subject of the Toccata from Partita 6 in E minor BWV 830 with the left
hand in bars 75‑76a of the Canon per Augmentationem in Contrario Motu:
µ µ
?#4 Ï µ Ï Ï Ï ä Ï Ï ÏÏÏ b C ÏJ Ï Ï#Ï ä ÏJ Ï Ï Ï ä ÏJ ÏJ Ï
a) 27 b) 75
Ï j Ïj
28 76
4J #Ï ä J J
j
Example 34: Toccata from Partita 6 in E minor BWV 830; bars 27-28a (only left hand);
Canon per Augmentationem in Contrario Motu, bars 7576a (only left hand).
While both passages strikingly resemble each other, only the paired quavers of the
canon contain slurs, a notational difference which in itself obviously does not prove
that one should perform both passages differently. After all, both works were writ-
ten about twenty years apart, and thus they could reflect changed habits regarding
articulation marking. Nevertheless, this Toccata has one striking feature with regard
to the specific placement of the slurs throughout the piece, and this could well hint
at how its fugue subject should not be played. In fact, Bach systematically wrote a slur
for every appoggiatura and its resolution in the opening and closing sections of the
Toccata, whereas in the middle, fugal section, not a single slur occurs – in my opin-
ion, a difference too clearly organized to call the occurrence of the slurs inconsistent
or arbitrary.191 The systematic denial of slurs in the Toccata’s middle section rather
suggests to me a performance of the appoggiaturas and resolutions with less Affekt
than the ones with slurs in the outer sections and in bars 75‑76a of the augmenta-
tion canon. A possible way of differentiating between them is by playing the former
simply legato, or with a very light form of overlegato, if only to soften the attack of
the resolutions, and the latter with a more significant degree of overlegato. Whether
or not a trill occurs on the appoggiatura has apparently no influence on the presence
or absence of a slur (compare example 35 with example 34a).
191. Bach corrected this work several times, even after it had been published (see, amongst others,
Schulenberg, 1992: 296). If, therefore, he intended the appoggiaturas and resolutions of the first half
of the fugue subject to be played in the same way as the ones in the outer sections, we may assume that
he would have added them to at least the opening bars of the fugal section at some point.
&b C Ï Ï ä Ï Ï Ï
µ
Example 35: Contrapunctus 9, bar 5.
My main objective in this chapter was to point out the exceptional quality of what
must have been Johann Sebastian Bach’s Kunst das Clavier zu spielen, most significantly
characterized by the contracting finger movement. Although requiring as equal a
strength in all fingers as possible, including the weaker ones, this technique ensures
the best possible sound. It allows, moreover, an easy execution of all kinds of articu-
lation, from staccato over das ordentliche Fortgehen to overlegato and versatile finger-
ing, including the use of the thumb as a fully-fledged finger, as well as paired and
crossed fingerings. ‘Bach’s method’ is thus ideal for running passages as well as for
meeting the great challenge of playing the complex keyboard polyphony of the Art of
Fugue successfully and eloquently.
4.
On Voice-leading
A s already mentioned in the opening chapter of this book ‘On Musical Rhetoric’,
Bach, being a pragmatist, never engaged in writing extensive treatises on music
theory or performance practice. With regard to the few modest theoretical tutors he
did write or dictate, they hardly offer us any insight into his personal views on music
theory, only constituting the most basic rules of thorough-bass accompaniment.
The least concise of these, so to speak, was the Vorschriften und Grundsätze zum vierstim-
migen Spielen des General-Baß oder Accompagnement (1738), for which Bach based him-
self on Friederich Erhardt Niedt’s Musicalische Handleitung oder: Gründlicher Unterricht
(1700/1710).192 In order to be able to assess the complex counterpoint of the Art of
Fugue more comprehensively, a necessity when doing a text-critical analysis of a work
in which voice-leading fairly often goes beyond the generally known and accepted
criteria today, we are obliged, yet again, to consult the theoretical works of his stu-
dents and colleagues. This study will in fact point out that German eighteenth-cen-
tury music theory displays nuanced and diversified guidelines, which are reflected in
the voice-leading of Bach’s works and, more specifically, of the Art of Fugue.
I have mainly based my outline of voice-leading in roughly the middle of eight-
eenth-century Germany on two music theory treatises by the two most important
and prolific authors generally associated with the Bach circle in Leipzig: Marpurg’s
Handbuch bey dem Generalbasse und der Composition (1755-1762) and Kirnberger’s Kunst
des reinen Satzes in der Musik (1771-1779). To place these tutors’ guidelines in a broader
context, I also draw on Kirnberger’s Wahren Grundsätze zum Gebrauch der Harmonie
(1773), and on several other treatises, whose authors are related to Bach as well, at
192. Niedt wrote two additional volumes of the Musicalische Handleitung (vol. 2, 1706 & 1721 (the latter
is a revised edition by Mattheson); vol. 3, 1717, edited by Mattheson after Niedt’s death). For more
detailed information, see Poulin, 1994: vii-xxvii.
least to some extent: Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier
zu spielen (part 2, 1762), Heinichen’s General-Bass in der Composition (1728), Mattheson’s
Kleine General-Bass-Schule (1735) and Vollkommener Capellmeister (1739), Christoph
Gottlieb Schröter’s Deutliche Anweisung zum General-Bass (1772),193 and Georg Andreas
Sorge’s Compendium harmonicum, oder Kurzer Begriff der Lehre von der Harmonie (1760).194
All theorists, whether codifying sixteenth-century, seventeenth-century or eight-
eenth-century counterpoint, basically agreed on one particular voice-leading rule,
that parallel fifths or octaves between two voices are forbidden. (Johann Sebastian
Bach, quoting Niedt, also stated this rule.195) Nevertheless, we encounter some
exceptions, both in treatises as well as in music.
Marpurg allowed parallel fifths in the inner voices in two cases: when the chord
of the ninth and the six-five chord, respectively four-three and six-five chords, alter-
nate in a sequential pattern. This was in fact a relaxation of the rule against parallel
fifths he took over, as he declared himself, from Carl Heinrich Graun:196
ú ú úú úú
& úú úú úú úú
ú ú ú ú
úú búú
ú ú
? ú ú ú ú bú ú ú ú
{
Example 1: Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): Tab. VIII Fig. 24.
The acceptance of these fifths among theorists, however, was not unanimous. While
Schröter agreed with Marpurg,197 Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach reacted against the tol-
erance advocated by Marpurg:
[These] fifths, no matter how much they may be defended, are and will
always remain revolting to the ear.
193. Schröter and Bach knew and respected each other. They were both members of the Correspondirende
Societät der Musicalischen Wissenschaften founded by Mizler. Franck Thomas Arnold, for that matter,
described Schröter’s treatise, which was virtually finished in 1754 (apart from the second half of
the introduction) but only published in 1772, as a ‘work of very exceptional interest, and abounding
with information’ (Arnold, 1931/2003: 294).
194. Being a great admirer of Bach, Sorge, who was also a member of the Correspondirende Societät der
Musicalischen Wissenschaften, dedicated his third Clavier-Übung (1742) to Bach.
195. J. S. Bach, 1738: 15.
196. Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): 66.
197. Schröter called these fifths ‘mock fifths’ (Scheinquinten; Schröter, 1772: 123; English translation in
Arnold, 1931/2003: 403).
On Voice-leading 133
[Diese] Quinten …, sie mögen auch noch so sehr vertheidiget werden, sind
und bleiben allezeit dem Ohr eckelhaft.198
(May we deduce from this that his father did not like them either, and therefore did
not write them in the Art of Fugue? After all, Marpurg related this licence to Graun,
not to Johann Sebastian Bach.) When preparing the second edition of his Handbuch,
Marpurg seems to have had some doubts about their legitimacy. (Whether or not he
slightly altered his view on these fifths under the influence of Carl Philipp Emanuel
Bach’s judgment is unclear. The second edition of Marpurg’s Handbuch and the sec-
ond part of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s Versuch both appeared in 1762.) Although
Marpurg still considered these fifths to be fairly tolerable, he found that:
it is better to write the three upper parts differently and to transform the
Fifths into Fourths.
es besser ist, die drey obersten Stimmen anders zu setzen, und die Quinten
in Quarten zu verwandeln.199
Kirnberger allowed one particular kind of consecutive intervals which for Marpurg,
on the other hand, were inexcusable in any situation:
There are also cases where great composers deliberately write direct [octa-
ves] in succession when the bass ascends while the upper part descends. But
this happens only in fast pieces, in order to obtain a good line in the bass or
to avoid bass notes that had already occurred shortly before [see example 2].
Es giebt auch Fälle, wo große Componisten mit Vorsatz offenbare [Octaven]

nach einander setzen, wenn der Baß steiget, indem die obere Stimme
abwerts gehet. Aber dieses geschieht nur in geschwinden Sachen, und um
im Baße zugleich einen guten Gesang zu bekommen, oder auch um im
Baße Töne zu vermeiden, die man kurz vorher schon gehabt hat.200
j j
& Ï ÏÏÏÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏÏÏÏ Ï
Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ
? Ïj Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï
8 8 8 8
{

199. Marpurg, 1762: 97; English translation in Arnold, 1931/2003: 403.
200. Kirnberger, 1771: 209-210; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 221-222. Kirnberger erro-
neously spoke about fifths instead of octaves, as the example illustrates.
While Kirnberger obviously saw both examples as virtually three-voiced, the upper
line representing a compound line, Bach did not write this kind of consecutive
octaves in the Art of Fugue.
We also find examples of parallel fifths and octaves in actual compositions,
extending these two concessions beyond theoretical approval. Certain composers,
among them Johann Sebastian Bach, seem to have accepted these consecutive inter-
vals on condition that one or more of the notes constituting the fifths are disso-
nances or dissonant melodic embellishments:
Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï 27#Ï Ï Ï
B b 43 Î Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï
25 26
Oboe da caccia ä Ï nÏ Ï
o Violetta
Ï Ù Ï ÏÏÏ Ù
& b 43 Ï ä Ï Ï ÏJ ÏJ nÏ Ï J Ï Ï nÏ j
Ï ÏÏÏ
j
Tenor
J J
‹ sein, ge - lieb - ter Je - su, du, du al - lein sollst mei - ner
?b3 Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Continuo 4 Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 3a: Aria no. 5 from cantata Herr Gott, dich loben wir BWV 16, bars 25-27
(Bärenreiter-Verlag (NBA), 1965).
### 6 Å Å Ï Ï Ï Ï
87
Oboe & 8 Ï Ï zÏ Ï
° ### 6 Î ™ ä ä Ï
Violino I & 8 J
### 6 ™
Violino II & 8Î ä ä Ï
J
# #6 ™ Ï
Viola B # 8 Î ä ä J
¢
## Ï Ï Ï Ï
Soprano & # 68 Ï™ Ï
? ### 6 Î ™ j
Höch - sten ganz e - ben, be -
Fagotto 8 Î Ï
? ### 6 Ï
Continuo 8 Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 3b: Aria no. 1 from cantata Bereitet die Wege, bereitet die Bahn! BWV 132, bar 87
(Nagels/Bärenreiter-Verlag, 1974).
# ú úÏÏÏ
& # c Ï Ï Ï™
21
j
? ## c ÏÏ ™ Ï Ï Ï #ÏÏ ú ÏÏ
{ Ï™
Example 3c: Fugue 8 in D major from XX kleine Fugen TWV 30: 8 by Georg Philipp
Telemann, bar 21 (Nagels/Bärenreiter-Verlag, 1974).
It would appear, however, that Bach in the Art of Fugue did not tolerate this type of
parallel fifths or octaves anymore. Example 4 illustrates how similar consecutive
intervals to the ones in example 3a are deliberately avoided via a keyboard progres-
sion which is technically awkward, the alto’s second quaver e2 breaking up the pos-
sible mistake of parallel fifths e1/bª1-d1/a1.
Ï ·
140
& b c nÏÏ Ï Ïú #Ï
Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï
?bc Ï
{ #Ï Ï Ï
According to Kirnberger and Marpurg, parallel fifths or octaves could be circumvented

under certain conditions by a particular voice-leading. Kirnberger explained that:
The crossing of two voices is permitted to avoid octaves and fifths [see
example 5].
Das Uebersteigen zweyer Stimmen ist erlaubt, einmal wenn man Octaven
und Quinten entgehet.201
& úú wú
ú
úú
ú ú
? úh wj úh #úú
{

He did not, however, allow it as a remedy to avoid consecutives between the outer
voices when the two highest voices are played by the same instrument since:
The following phrase [at (a)] sounds as if it were written as [at (b); see
example 6].
Folgender Satz … klinget, als wenn er also gesetzt wäre:202
ú ú ú ú ú ú ú w
a) b)
° ú
Viol. 1. & ú ú ú ú w
Viol. 2. & ú ú ú ú ú ú w ú ú ú ú ú ú w
Viola. B ú ú ú ú ú ú w ú ú ú ú ú ú w
? ú ú ú úh ú ú ú ú ú úh ú
Fond.
¢ ú w w
Example 6: Kirnberger, 1771: 149-150.
Kirnberger even excluded this technique entirely with regard to keyboard instru-
ments:
Those fifths and octaves that are avoided by the crossing of parts in instru-
mental ensembles or vocal music cannot occur in this manner on the organ,
piano, or harpsichord, because the crossing of voices is not noticeable there.
Diejenigen Quinten und Octaven, die bey Instrumenten oder Singstimmen,

durch Uebersichtreten vermieden werden, können auf Orgeln, Flügeln oder
Clavieren auf diese Art nicht vorkommen, weil man da das Ueberspringen
der Stimmen nicht merket.203
Marpurg gave similar, though slightly more severe, directives than those of
Kirnberger. With regard to ‘alike instruments’ (einerley Instrumenten),204 most prob-
ably including keyboard instruments though they are not specifically referred to in
this context, he advised not using a voice crossing resulting in audible consecutives
when the setting is not full enough, when only consonances are involved, when these
202. Kirnberger, 1771: 149-150; my English translation.

consecutives would be perceived in the outer voices or when most voices progress by
similar motion.205 (Marpurg, therefore, must surely not have approved of example 5,
its setting being consonant at the moment of the audible fifths.)
Contrary to Kirnberger’s prohibition, however, Johann Sebastian Bach did actually
use this type of voice-leading to avoid consecutive intervals on paper in his keyboard
compositions. While he did not write any ‘ear octaves’ (Ohrenoctaven)206 between the
outer voices in the Art of Fugue, they do occur in a consonant setting between an inner
and an outer voice. Consider the voice-leading of bar 41 of Contrapunctus 4:
Î Ï #Ï Ï Ï
41
&b C Ï Ï Ï
™
Ï
J
Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ # ÏÏ
? Cú
{ b
On the second crotchet of that bar Bach doubled the B¨ (alto and bass), the sixth scale
step in D minor and thus a note with a directional tendency. Since the B¨ in the bass
is already followed by the obvious note A, he evaded the parallel octaves by writing an
e1 instead of an a1 as the alto’s next note. The tenor, however, produces this very note
on the middle of bar 41, thus producing Ohrenoctaven.207
Besides the general consensus to avoid parallel fifths and octaves, a wide range of
other successions involving fifths and octaves were also contained in directives,
though they vary rather more from theorist to theorist.
According to Marpurg, one could always write the ascending or descending step-
wise succession of a pure and a diminished fifth without any restriction, even between
the outer voices. On the other hand, the succession of a diminished and a pure fifth:
205. Ibid.: 60 & 65.

206. Ibid.: 60.
207. For more detailed consideration and, more particularly, how to deal with this voice-leading issue in
performance, see my discussion on Contrapunctus 4.
is forbidden in a two-part texture, and only allowed in a more-voiced texture,

though only in the middle voices or between an outer and a middle voice.
ist in einem zweystimmigen Satze verboten, und nur in einem mehrstim-

migen Satze, iedoch nur in den Mittelstimmen, oder zwischen einer äusser-
sten und mittelsten erlaubt.208
Kirnberger agreed with Marpurg with regard to the former succession while simply
describing the latter as ‘less good’ (weniger gut).209
As for Bach, he was generally less bothered with the succession of a diminished
and a pure fifth, regardless of whether it was descending or ascending:
b Ï ™ j
& b c #äÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï Ïú Ï
4
Ï Ï Ï™ Ï Ï
? bb c Ï Ï ÏÏ
{ î nÏ Ï
Example 8a: 2. Ist eine Vorstellung unterschiedlicher Casuum, die ihm in der Fremde könnten vor-
fallen from Capriccio sopra la lontananza del fratello dilettissimo in B flat major
BWV 992, bar 4.
j
11 12
° c Ï™
Soprano
e strumenti & Ï Ï Ï Ï
j
,
&c
du wohl weisst
Ï™ Ï Ï
Ï Ï #Ï
Alto
e strumenti
#Ï Ï
,
Ï Ï™
du wohl weisst
Tenore
e strumenti &c Ï J
,
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
‹ du wohl weisst
Basso
? c #Ï
¢
du wohl weisst ,
Continuo
? c #Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 8b: Choral no. 7 from cantata Sie werden aus Saba alle kommen BWV 65, bars 11-12a
(Bärenreiter-Verlag (NBA), 1975).

° ## 9 Ï Ï Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï
46
Violono I & Oboe 1 & 8 Ï™

#
& # 98 Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï™ Ï
™ ™
Violono II & Oboe 2
# 9 Ï™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï™ Ï
Viola & Oboe 3 B # 8
? ## 9 Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™
Continuo & Fagotto
¢ 8 Ï
Example 8c: Overture in D major BWV 1069, bar 46 (trumpets & timpani omitted).
Nevertheless, in the Art of Fugue he exclusively used the ascending form in which the
first (diminished) fifth is durchgehend, that is not struck together:
15
Ï™ ÏÏÏÏ™™ ÏÏ#Ï ÏÏ ™ ÏÏÏÏ ™n#ÏÏ 33
Ï
128
&b C ™ C úÏ Ï
Ï Ï Ï# Ï Ï
Ï Ï C ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ï #Ï ú
Î
? b C # ÏÏ ÏÏ ™ Ï ÏÏ ™ Ï Ï C ÏÏÏ Ï C #Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï
Ï
{ Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï
Example 9: Contrapunctus 6, bar 15; Contrapunctus 8, bar 33; Contrapunctus 9, bar 128.
Thus Bach’s frequent use of this type of voice-leading rather puts Kirnberger’s fol-
lowing assessment into perspective:
Yet J. S. Bach has had such a sensitive ear, that also this [the succession of a
diminished and a perfect fifth] was occasionally offensive to him.
Doch hat J. S. Bach ein so zärtliches Gehör gehabt, daß ihn bisweilen auch
dieses beleidiget hat.210
While octaves in contrary motion can occur, ‘if need be’ (zur Noth), between the
middle voices in a texture with more than four voices, fifths in contrary motion were
possible for Marpurg in a four-part texture even between the outer voices when the
tempo is slow – a remarkable concession:211
210. Ibid.
& ÏÏ bÏÏ ÏÏ bÏÏ

? bÏÏ Ï bÏ Ï
{ Ï Ï Ï
As for Kirnberger, he agreed with Marpurg as to when octaves in contrary motion

can be considered permissible, yet made no distinction between octaves and fifths
in this matter:
direct [fifths and octaves] in contrary motion can occur [in the inner voices
in a texture with more than four parts], so that the bad sound which they
cause in works for few voices, is concealed and rendered imperceptible by
the other voices.
Quinten und Octaven in der Gegenbewegung in demselben [vielstimmigen

Satz, zu fünf, sechs und mehr Stimmen] können so vorkommen, daß der
Uebelklang, den sie in Sachen von wenig Stimmen verursachen, durch die
andern Stimmen bedeckt und unmerklich wird.212
With regard to fifths in contrary motion, and octaves and unisons in contrary motion,
Bach again permitted himself a freer approach in the Art of Fugue than allowed by
Marpurg or Kirnberger. Firstly, fifths in contrary motion even in a two-part texture
occur in bar 30 of the Canon alla Decima:
Ï ÏÏÏ Ï Ï™
ÏÏÏÏ
Ï
& b c 12
30
{& b c 12
8#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Example 11: Canon alla Decima, bar 30.
Secondly, in bar 41 of Contrapunctus 5 Bach wrote a succession of a unison and an

octave c1/c1-g/g1 (tenor and alto; see example 12), and in bar 35 of Contrapunctus 4 a
succession of an octave and a unison (bass and tenor; see example 13).

j
Ï Ïú nÏ Ï
41
& b c Ï™
Ï Î
ú j
? c Ï Ï ú Ï™ bÏ Ï
{ b
& b C Ïú Ï úÏ bÏ Ï #Ï
35
ú
?bC Ï úÏ
{ ÏÏÏ Î
Under certain conditions Marpurg found the succession of octaves with one or more
intervening notes (anschlagende Octaven) to be possible or at least to be tolerated,
mainly depending on the (first) note separating the consecutives. Firstly:
The mistake of the octave is removed thanks to a fourth or fifth which has
been put in between them. … This is always better done in a texture with
more than two parts [see example 14].
Der Fehler der Octave wird durch eine dazwischen gesetzte Quinte oder
Quarte gehoben. … Es geschieht aber solches allezeit besser in mehr- als
zweystimmigen Sätzen.213
& Ï Ï ú
? ú
{ ú
Example 14: Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): Tab. VI Fig. 12. In this example Marpurg ob-
viously wrote only two voices of what should be at least a three-voiced
texture in order to make this voice-leading acceptable for him.
Although he did not use it in the plain form proposed by Marpurg, Bach was not
entirely reluctant to use this kind of voice-leading in the Art of Fugue:

Ï úÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ
Ï Ï
89 90
& b C ÏÏ ÏÏ Î
Ï #Ï Ï Ï
? b C w Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ w nÏ
{
Secondly, Marpurg also accepted anschlagende octaves separated by an imperfect con-

sonance (third or sixth) in contrary motion but only when the tempo is not too quick,
when the texture contains more than two parts and when the other voices form good
counterpoints:214
Ï
& ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï #úÏ Ï
Ï Ï Ï
? Ïú ú
{
Example 16: Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): Tab. VI Fig. 8.
While the Art of Fugue does not contain samples of this particular type of voice-
leading, it reveals another kind of struck octaves separated by an intermediate third
whereby the third actually proceeds in the same direction towards the second octave
(see example 17). Bach seems, however, to have reduced the audible perception of
parallelism in this example by splitting the bass’s underlying interval of an ascend-
ing fourth (minim E-quaver A) into an ascending octave (crotchet E-crotchet e) fol-
lowed by a descending fifth (crotchet e-quaver A), the latter even so yielding contrary
motion towards the second octave.
ÏÏ Ïn ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ #Ï 123ú
Ïn Ï Ï ú
122
&b C
?bC Ï ÏÏ
{ Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
214. Ibid.: 57.

On the other hand, Bach did apply Marpurg’s above concession, even involving
quicker note values, when the first octave is durchgehend:
Ïj Ï Ïj Ï Ï Ï 69 Ï Ï Ïj
& b C Ï Ï#Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ÏÏ nÏ Ï™ Ï ™ ÏJ
68
J
ú Ï Ï úÏ Ïú Ï b Ï
? C Ï Ï Ï ú nÏ ÏÏ
{ b
We find similar though not identical rules with regard to successions of anschlagende
fifths in Marpurg’s Handbuch:
The leap of a fourth, fifth or sixth corrects the mistake of the fifths; but it is
better in a three- than in a two-part texture [see example 19].
Der Sprung einer Quarte, Quinte oder Sexte verbessert den Fehler der
Quinten; doch besser in drey- als zweystimmigen Sätzen.215
& úÏ Ï
Ï Ï úÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ú
? Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï úÏ Ï Ï úú
{
Example 19: Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): Tab. VII Fig. 30.
As example 20 illustrates, Bach judged this voice-leading satisfactory when at least

two chords occurred during the first fifth, a harmonic organization which eliminates
the mistake of parallelism anyway:
bÏ
& b c Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï
74 75
ú™ ÏÏ
w w
? cw ú Ï Ï bw
Ï Ï ú
{ b
215. Ibid.: 63.

When, however, only one chord was implied during the first fifth of this voice-lead-
ing, Bach made the second fifth durchgehend:
Ï Ï#Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï™ bÏ Ï
&c Ï ÏbÏ Ï Ï Ï
27
™
Ï Ïú b Ï Ï Ï
? c ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ
{
Example 21: Prelude 1 in C major BWV 870 (WTC 2), bar 27.
With regard to anschlagende fifths separated by a third Marpurg only allowed them
in a minimum three-voiced texture in a fairly slow tempo, preferably in the middle
parts and with dissonant harmonies.216 Again, Bach also wrote this voice-leading,
even involving quicker note values, when one of the fifths is durchgehend:
·
Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï
31
& b C #Ï
Ï Ï ú Ï Ï
? b C Ï nÏ Ï
{ Ï™ J #Ï
Furthermore, Marpurg always considered an ascending 5‑6 progression, even when

the fifths occur in the outer voices on both ‘good’ beats, to be good (see exam-
ple 23a), as did Niedt and Bach (see example 23b), apparently because the two triads
were separated by another chord, a sixth chord, cancelling the issue of parallelism:
& Ï Ï Ï Ï
? Ït y
ÏtA y
{
Example 23a: Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): Tab. VII Fig. 30.
216. Ibid.
& úúÏ Ï ÏÏú Ï ÏÏú Ï ÏÏú ÏÏ

Ï Ï
? úg h
úg h
úg h úg h
{
Example 23b: J. S. Bach, 1738: no page indication.
Yet when fifths or octaves were merely separated by passing notes, Marpurg consid-
ered them erroneous.217
With regard to this kind of consecutive intervals, Kirnberger really did not follow
Bach’s practice, in spite of the claim in Die Kunst des reinen Satzes that he did. He actu-
ally only accepted the ascending fourth as an intervening note undoing the mistake
of parallel consonant fifths, while apparently no form of anschlagende octaves with
one or more intervening notes could convince him:
Even though one has to watch out for forbidden fifths and octaves in four-
part writing, there are situations where they can be written because their bad
effect can be lessened. Thus several fifths can be written in succession when
one ascends four tones from the fifths, particularly when these fifths occur
between the tenor and bass [see example 24].
So sehr man sich im vierstimmigen Satz für verbothenen Quinten und

Octaven zu hüten hat, so giebt es doch auch Fälle, wo man sie setzen
kann, weil ihre üble Würkung kann vermindert werden. So kann man
mehrere Quinten nach einander setzen, wenn man von den Quinten vier
Töne aufwärts steiget, fürnemlich wenn diese Quinten in dem Tenor
gegen den Baß stehen.218
# ú
& c úÏ™ ÏJ Ï #Ï úú
Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ ™ Ïj
?#c Ï Ï Ï
ÏÏ Ï Ï
{ Ï ÏÏÏ
217. Ibid.: 57.

Nevertheless, Kirnberger argued that this voice-leading should be avoided when a

‘correct’ solution was available:
Thus such fifths are used even by good harmonists, though only in an emer-
gency. We mention this so that young composers, should they some across
such places in the works of great masters, do not presume that they need not
be quite so careful about being strict. … even though forbidden fifths and
octaves become tolerable in four-part writing as a result of such leaps of a
fourth, it is better to take care and instead omit something from the harmony.
Dergleichen Quinten also, erlauben sich auch gute Harmonisten, wiewol

nur als einen Nothfall. Wir führen dieses deswegen an, damit nicht junge
Componisten, wenn sie etwa bey grossen Meistern dergleichen Stellen
antreffen, sich einbilden man habe nicht nöthig, so gar streng auf die
Reinigkeit zu sehen. … obgleich durch solche Quartensprünge die verbo-
thenen Quinten und Octaven im vierstimmigen Satz erträglich werden, so
thut man doch besser, wenn man sich auch davor hütet, und lieber an der
Harmonie etwas fehlen läßt.219
He illustrated this last guideline in a musical example by omitting the fifth of the
second chord and by replacing it with the (doubled) root or third of the chord. On
the other hand, Kirnberger did seem to have tolerated fifths with intervening notes
when one or both fifths contain one or more dissonances. In the following (though
musically questionable) example, we are told by him:
Indeed … there are two perfect fifths that exist only as a result of the stepwise
progression but are not at all displeasing owing to the dissonant four-two
chord [see example 25].
sind zwar zwey vollkommene Quinten, welche nur mit der Secunden
fortschreitung da stehen, die aber wegen des dißonirenden Secunden
accords gar nicht widrig sind.220
° #### ú úÏ
5 5
& ú ú úÏ
Ï#Ï ú ÏÏ
? # ## ú úú ™ úRs #Ï úú
¢ # ú

A second category of consecutive intervals separated by one or more intermediate

notes are the so-called nachschlagende fifths or octaves, that is fifths or octaves neither
of which are struck together. In this matter also Marpurg, who approved of these
‘near-consecutive’ intervals ‘if intelligently used’ (wenn es vernünftig damit zugeht),221
provided guidelines which come closer to the voice-leading features of Bach than
those of Kirnberger did, Kirnberger being more concerned with not allowing too
many liberties to the beginner.
According to Marpurg the most common, ‘intelligently used’, voice-leading is
when parallel thirds between two voices are enhanced with inserted fifths or octaves
in one voice, those inserted fifths or octaves falling on the ‘bad’ part of each note. As
the figures in example 26 show, Marpurg actually regarded the nachschlagende fifths
not as (consonant) fifths but as sevenths of first inversion seventh chords:
Ï Ï
& ÏÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï
? Ïe yg Ïe yg Ïe yg Ïe· Ïyg Ïe Ïyg Ïe yg
{ Ï
For Kirnberger, as well, nachschlagende fifths and octaves could indeed be used, but
he stressed, however, that this type of voice-leading remains irregular:
Sometimes the best composers allow themselves liberties from the rules sta-
ted here [Kirnberger claimed before that, to verify whether the voice-leading
in arpeggiated florid counterpoint is good, the arpeggiated chords should
be written or sounded vertically]; however, the beginner must not think that
they have done this out of ignorance of these rules or that the rules themsel-
ves were not valid. Only he who has advanced so far that he can trust his
ear can digress from the rules in special situations that tolerate it. The next
example can serve as an illustration of such liberties; the passage at (a) would
sound as at (b) if the notes were aligned vertically [see example 27].
Bisweilen erlauben sich die besten Componisten Freyheiten gegen die hier
gegebenen Regeln; deswegen aber muß der Anfänger nicht glauben, daß
sie es aus Unwissenheit dieser Regeln gethan haben, oder daß die Regeln
selbst nichts auf sich hätten. Nur der, der erst so weit gekommen ist, daß er
seinem Ohr sicher trauen darf, geht in besondern Fällen, die es vertragen,

von den Regeln ab. Von solchen Freyheiten kann folgendes zum Beyspiel
dienen, wo der Satz [a], wenn die Noten übereinander stünden, wie bey [b]
klingen würde.222
& Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏbÏ Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ bÏÏ ÏÏ nÏÏ Ï

a) b)
k j h d k§
j h d
Ï Ï
? Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
{
Kirnberger gave a similar example of octaves sounding after the beat, although only
permitting them when they occur as at (a) but not as at (b):
Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏÏÏ
& Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ
a) b)
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
?
{
As for Bach, he had no objection to nachschlagende fifths and octaves, and frequently
used both throughout his life:
Ï
& c Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï b C Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï
5b 6 16
Ï
?c Ï Ï Ï #Ï ÏJ bC Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
{ Ï
Example 29: Inventio 1 in C major BWV 772, bars 5b-6a; Contrapunctus 8, bar 16.

Besides those on the succession of the same perfect consonant intervals (fifths or
octaves), theorists imposed limitations as well on how a perfect consonant interval can
be approached by a different interval, that is on what is called a direct fifth or octave.
Marpurg recognized two categories of direct fifths and octaves, and stated that pos-
sible mistakes only relate to the outer voices. In the first category, he set out his rules
for a perfect consonant interval being approached by similar motion from the other
perfect consonant interval, considering this voice-leading wrong except in four cases:
1. When, in the progression from a fifth to an octave, the upper voice descends a
second and the lower voice descends a fifth:223
& ú ú
? ú ú
{
2. When, in the same progression from a fifth to an octave, the upper voice ascends
a fifth and the lower voice ascends a second.224 His illustration of this licence
seems to imply, though, that he expected the presence of a suspension to make
up for the direct octave:
úú
& úúú™
#Ï
? ú ú
{
Example 31: Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): Tab. VIII Fig. 34b.
3. When, in the progression from an octave to a fifth, the upper part ascends a sec-
ond and the lower part ascends a fifth:225
& ú ú
? ú
{ ú
223. Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): 68.

224. Ibid.
225. Ibid.
4. When, in the same progression from an octave to a fifth, the upper voice descends
a fifth and the lower voice descends a second. In this case, however, Marpurg
stressed that:
the other [inner] voices must thereby make a good, full harmony and a good
voice-leading.
die übrigen Stimmen eine gute volle Harmonie und eine gute Bewegung
dabey machen müssen.226
Moreover, he apparently intended that at least one voice, here the tenor, should
evolve in contrary motion:
& úú úú
ú
? Ïú Ï ú
{
Mattheson also gave detailed information about direct fifths and octaves, albeit in
a less organized manner than Marpurg did. For the progression from a fifth to an
octave with the upper voice descending a second, Mattheson preferred contrary
motion, especially in two-part textures with slow and serious metres. Nevertheless,
he also approved of it with the lower voice descending a fifth, thus in similar motion,
for the following reason:
otherwise many thousands of beautiful phrases, indeed millions of quite
good cadences, would have to be eliminated; and there would scarcely be a
single line in polyphonic accompaniments without these cited deficiencies.
es müsten sonst viel tausend schöne Sätze, ja Millionen gantz gute Schlüsse,
ausgemertzet werden; und bey vielstimmigen Begleitungen dürffte fast
keine eintzige Zeile ohne diese vermeinte Fehler seyn können.227
Although Mattheson preferred contrary motion as well for the progression from an
octave to a fifth with the upper part ascending a second, he did allow it again in simi-
lar motion, that is with the lower part ascending a fifth.228 He showed himself more
226. Ibid.: 68; my English translation.

228. Mattheson, 1739: 285-286.
reluctant than Marpurg, however, in approving the progression from an octave to a

fifth whereby the upper voice descends a fifth and the lower voice descends a second:
I would not write this sort of thing with half notes …, especially in a two-part
song: and I would consider it [to be] as little value to others as to me.
mit halben Schlägen mögte ich dergleichen nicht setzen, …, zumahl in

einem zwostimmigen Gesange: und würde es einem andern fast eben so
wenig zu gute halten, als mir selber.229
Bach obviously had no problem with this category of direct fifths and octaves, three
of Marpurg’s four licences occurring in the Art of Fugue:
U m U
& b c 12 Ï™
81 82
8 ÏÏú w
? b c 12 U
ú U
Cadenza
{ 8 ú
w
Example 34a: Canon alla Decima, bars 81-82.
Î j
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ™ nÏ Ï
79 80
&b c Ï Î î Î
Ïj j
Ï Ï# Ïj ÏÏj Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï
?bc Ï Ï
{
Example 34b: Contrapunctus 11, bars 79-80a.
ú j 62 ä Ïj Ï Ï Ï Ï
& Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ™ Ï ÏÏ C c Ïw Ï Ï Ï Ï úÏ Ïú Ï
69 63 66 67
b C Ï #Ï nÏ ÏÏ Ï
Ï Ï
Î
Ï Ï Ï#Ï ú Ï nÏ Ï ÏÏ# Ï Ï Ï nÏ b ú ú
? Cú ú C Ï Ï Ïú Ï c wÏ w
ú
{ b
Example 34c: Contrapunctus 5, bar 69; Contrapunctus 11, bars 62-63a; Contrapunctus 14,

bars 66-67.
229. Mattheson, 1739: 286; English translation in Harriss, 1981: 563. While Mattheson did not discuss
the progression from a fifth to an octave with the upper voice ascending a fifth and the lower voice
ascending a second, from his dislike of the descending form of this progression we may assume
that he would have opposed it as well.
Note that each time Bach wrote a direct fifth with the upper part descending a fifth,
he included a suspension in an inner voice at the moment of the direct fifth, probably
to diminish its audible perception. (Including a suspension in his second but not in
his fourth licence setting, Marpurg apparently judged the tenor’s counter motion
sufficient to counterbalance the direct fifth in the latter setting.)
In the second category of direct fifths and octaves in the outer voices, Marpurg
explained his rules for a perfect consonant interval approached by similar motion
from an imperfect consonant interval. We are told that this kind of direct fifth or
octave is to be avoided as well, while allowing more exceptions to this rule than those
of the first category of direct fifths and octaves, seven to be exact, which are:
1. When, in the progression from a third [tenth] to an octave, the upper voice
ascends a second and the lower voice ascends a fourth:230
& ú ú
? ú ú
{
Example 35: Marpurg, 1757: Tab. I Fig. 23a.
2. When, in the same progression from a third [tenth] to an octave, the upper voice
ascends a third and the lower voice ascends a fifth, on condition that the texture
is at least four-voiced and that one of the middle voices provides contrary motion
in relation to the outer voices:231
& ú ú
ú ú
? ú ú
{
Example 36: Marpurg, 1757: Tab. I Fig. 23b. In this example Marpurg obviously
wrote only three voices of what should be at least a four-voiced texture
in order to make this voice-leading acceptable for him.
3. When, in the progression from a sixth [thirteenth] to a [double] octave, the upper
voice ascends a fourth and the lower voice ascends a second, on condition that
230. Marpurg, 1757: 74.

231. Ibid.
the texture is again at least four-voiced and that the middle voices provide con-
trary motion in relation to the outer voices:232
ú
& úúú #ú
ú
? ú ú
{
Example 37: Marpurg, 1757: Tab. I Fig. 27.
4. When, in the progression from a third [tenth] to a fifth [twelfth], the upper voice
descends a second and the lower voice descends a fourth:233
& ú ú
? ú
{ ú
5. When, in the same progression from a third [tenth] to a fifth [twelfth], the upper
voice ascends a sixth or fourth and the lower voice ascends a fourth and second
respectively. Marpurg, however, did not find this to be regular voice-leading, only
tolerating it ‘where nothing else is left to do’ (wo es sich nicht anders thun lässet) on
account of the contrary motion of an inner part in at least a four-part texture:234
ú ú
& úú
ú úú ú
ú ú
ú #
? ú úú bú
ú úú
{
Example 39: Marpurg, 1757: Tab. I Fig. 33 & 34.
6. When, in the progression from a sixth to a fifth, the upper voice ascends a second
and the lower voice ascends a third, also ‘if need be’ (zur Noth):235
232. Ibid.
233. Ibid.
234. Ibid.: 75; my English translation.
235. Ibid.
& ú ú
? ú
{ ú
7. When, in the same progression from a sixth to a fifth, the upper voice descends a
third and the lower voice descends a second, on condition that ‘inner voices there-
upon make the progression good’ (die Mittelpartien alsdenn den Gang gut machen):236
& ú ú
? ú ú
{
Like Marpurg, Mattheson accepted the progression from a third to an octave with
the upper voice ascending a second and the lower voice ascending a fourth, though
he discussed this voice-leading only in relation to the major third and stipulated that
this progression occurs better in many-part textures.237 The progression from a third
to an octave with the upper voice ascending a third and the lower voice ascending a
fifth, on the other hand, did not seem to have appealed much to Mattheson. After all,
though again only referring to the major third, he stated in general terms that:
it would not be proper to go from the major third to the octave if the voi-
ces leap upwards or downwards together: likewise if one voice descends
stepwise and the other leaps [downwards].
es nicht recht seyn soll, aus der grossen Tertz in die Octave zu gehen, wenn
die Stimmen zusammen hinauf oder herunter springen: ingleichen, wenn
die eine Stimme schrittweise, und die andre springend fällt.238
As for progressions from a sixth to a fifth in similar motion, Mattheson argued that
those with the upper voice ascending a second ‘is not nearly as dangerous’ (lange nicht
236. Ibid.
237. Mattheson, 1739: 273.
so vieler Gefahr unterworffen ist) as those with the lower voice ascending a second.239
Contrary to Marpurg, Mattheson did not approve of progressions from a sixth to an
octave in the outer voices in similar motion, allowing this kind of voice-leading only
in contrary or oblique motion.240 The guidelines Mattheson gave for progressions
from a third to a fifth in similar motion differed depending on whether the third
was minor or major. With regard to those progressions involving a minor third, he
claimed the following:
If [the] one voice goes stepwise and the other through leaps, then no
mistake is to be feared even in similar motion. … But if both of the voices
were to leap, and if in fact the lowest in similar motion more than a third
be it upwards or downwards, then such is to be reckoned among the errors
because it then must contain hidden fifths. … Though the many-part texture
does not even require such strictness.
Wenn die eine Stimme durch Schritte; die andre durch Sprünge ihre Sachen
verrichtet, so ist auch bey gerader Bewegung kein Fehler zu besorgen. …
Sollten die Stimmen aber beide springen, und zwar die unterste in gerader
Bewegung mehr, als eine Tertz, es sey hinauf oder herunter, so ist solches
unter die Fehler deswegen mit zu rechnen, weil es alsdenn ohne verdeckte
Quinten nicht abgehen kan. … Wiewol die Vollstimmigkeit auch keine sol-
che Schärffe erfordert.241
Consequently, if we were to apply the above rule strictly, the questionable two-part voice-
leading of example 42 would have to be interpreted as correct according to Mattheson.
After all, the bass moves upwards stepwise, that is by an interval smaller than a third.
& ú ú
? ú ú
{
Example 42.
Yet his disapproval of the descending direct fifth caused by a progression from a
sixth to a fifth with a leap in the upper voice makes it hard to believe that Mattheson
would have consented to an ascending direct fifth with a leap in the upper voice. He
surely must have intended ‘the one voice’ to be understood as ‘the upper voice’ and

240. Mattheson, 1739: 281 & 283.
‘the other [voice]’ as ‘the lower voice’, an interpretation implying his acceptance of
this voice-leading only when the step occurs in the upper voice. Mattheson showed
himself to be more severe, though, with regard to proceeding from a major third to
a fifth in similar motion:
Thus one can pass from the major third to the fifth in almost every way;
as long as it occurs through contrary motion, or occurs so that one voice
remains on the same pitch while the other leaps: That is, through the side-
ways motion, per motum obliquum. For similar motion always causes a hidden
fifth, as is easy to see, and is [wrong] for this in biciniis.
So kan man auch aus der grossen Tertz schier auf alle Art in die Quint erlan-
gen; wenn es nur durch die Gegenbewegung geschiehet, oder so zugehet,
daß die eine Stimme in ihrem Ton ruhet, indeß die andre springt: Das ist,
durch die Seitenbewegung, per motum obliquum. Denn die gerade Bewegung
macht immer verdeckte Quinten, wie leicht zu erachten stehet, und taugt in
biciniis diesen Falls nicht.242
In fact, from this it would appear that Mattheson basically condemned every progres-
sion from a major third to a fifth in similar motion in two-part writing, regardless of
whether the upper voice leaps. He did not, however, supply any information about
whether or not there are restrictions to this voice-leading in three-part, four-part or
multi-part textures, and, if so, what they would be.
In the Art of Fugue Bach only once wrote a direct fifth with a leap in the upper voice
and introduced by an imperfect consonant.
Ï
& b c 12
55 56
8 Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï™ Ï Ï
Ï Ï ÏÏÏ
? b c 12 Ï Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ nÏ nÏ
{ 8
Example 43: Canon alla Decima, bars 55-56a.
A direct octave with a leap of a fourth in the upper voice and introduced by a sixth, on
the other hand, does appear on several occasions:
242. Mattheson, 1739: 271; English translation in Harriss, 1981: 537. Harriss translates taugt nicht by
‘not useful’.
Ï Ï
&b C Ï Ï Ï C ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ nÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ
20 121
·
ú Ï Ï ÏÏ
? b C n Ï Ï Ï# Ï #Ï C
#Ï ÏnÏnÏ Ï#Ï ÏnÏ Ï
{ Ï
Example 44: Contrapunctus 1, bar 20; Contrapunctus 8, bar 121.
Nevertheless, Bach had these direct octaves only ascend from a ‘good’ to a ‘bad’ beat,
the former including a dissonance which resolves in contrary motion via a conso-
nant skip. (It goes without saying that the progressions from a third to an octave
and from a third to a fifth, both in similar motion with their upper voices moving
stepwise, were generally accepted as good voice-leading, occurring repeatedly in the
Art of Fugue as well. As for the progression from a sixth to a fifth in similar motion
with the upper voice descending a third and the lower voice descending a second,
this does not however occur in the Art of Fugue.)
While Marpurg and Mattheson provided rather detailed information on which
direct fifths and octaves could, and which ones could not, be written, Kirnberger’s
contribution to this matter, in contrast, was too limited to be of any real assistance
to the composer, only consisting of the following guideline:
Direct passing octaves and fifths between the highest voice and bass must
also be assiduously avoided. It is not necessary to consider the outer voi-
ces in relation to middle voices with such care, although even there passing
fifths are noticeable to a fine ear. One even finds that the late Bach has some-
times avoided hidden fifths in the inner voices by doubling the fifth instead
of the octave of an ordinary chord.
In der obersten Stimme müssen auch die bloß durchgehenden Octaven und
Quinten gegen den Baß sorgfältig vermieden werden. Diese grosse Sorgfalt
hat man in Ansehung der obern Stimmen gegen die Mittelstimmen eben
nicht nöthig; wiewol einem feinen Gehör auch da durchgehende Quinten
fühlbar sind. Man findet sogar, daß der selige Bach verdeckte Quinten
zuweilen in den Mittelstimmen vermieden hat, und statt der Octave beym
ordinairen Accorde die Quinte verdoppelt hat.243
Besides being scant, this directive also contains at least two questionable elements.
Firstly, his assessment that direct fifths or octaves between an outer and an inner

voice should not be treated ‘with such care’, remains vague, and is moreover at odds
with an illustration earlier in his book of what Kirnberger judged to be a progression
containing a forbidden direct fifth between tenor and bass (see example 45).
& w
w w
w
w
w
? w Ï w
{
Example 45: Kirnberger, 1771: 43; disapproved by Kirnberger.
(This is, for that matter, exactly the voice-leading, direct motion from a sixth to a
fifth, which Marpurg found acceptable even between the outer voices, albeit only
‘if need be’.) This example in fact not only contradicts Kirnberger’s description of a
more relaxed attitude towards a direct fifth between an outer and an inner voice, but
clashes with the many uncommented-on, and presumably approved-of, examples of
direct fifths and octaves between an outer voice and an inner voice (see example 46).
úú úúú úú úúú úú
& úú úúú úú
ú ú
w
w úú úú
ú ú ú ú
ú w
? ú #ú ú #ú w ú #ú ú #ú ú ú
{
Example 46: Kirnberger, 1771: 42; approved by Kirnberger.
Secondly, the reason for the doubling of the fifth of the C minor chord in the exam-
ple Kirnberger gave to substantiate Bach’s ‘fine ear’ (see example 47) is not, in my
opinion, to avoid a possible direct fifth between tenor and treble.
b
& b b ÏÏ bÏÏ ÏÏ nÏ núú ÏÏ nÏ n úúú
Ï ÏÏ
? bb Ï Ï nÏ ÏÏ úú ÏÏanstatt
{ b ú
Rather, the directional tendency of the sixth scale step in a minor key, especially in
the presence of the second scale step, explains the descent of the sixth scale step to
the fifth scale step, while the second step, forming a diminished fifth with the sixth
scale step, ascends to the third scale step. Note that, rather ironically, Kirnberger’s
approved version of this progression – that is without the direct fifth between
soprano and tenor – actually contains a direct fifth as well, between tenor and bass.
Or did Kirnberger perhaps only disapprove of an ascending direct fifth or octave
between an inner voice and the bass, the latter making a leap?
•
Another important voice-leading feature is the treatment of dissonances, whereby
theorists classified their standard rules under the label ‘strict style’ and their licences
under ‘free(r) style’. Kirnberger stated that:
In the strict style all dissonances are prepared by preceding consonances
and are resolved downward to the next step. The freer style permits the
introduction of an unprepared dissonance, the omission of resolution, and
resolution of dissonance in another voice [see example 48].
in der strengen Schreibart alle Dißonanzen durch vorhergehende

Consonanzen vorbereitet, und durch Heruntertretung auf die nächste Stufe
aufgelöst werden, so leidet die freyere Schreibart den Eintritt einer nicht vor-
bereiteten Dißonanz, die Uebergehung der Auflösung, und eine Auflösung
der Dißonanz in einer andern Stimme.244
w
a)
w w
b)
& w
w w
w w
w w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
? w wj ws #wyg w
{ w
Unprepared seventh Omission of the seventh’s resolution
w ú
c) d)
& ú w w w
w
w
w w
? w új úrs wh wj wh
{ Transfer of the seventh to another
voice within the same seventh chord
Resolution of the seventh in
another voice over the next chord
Example 48: Kirnberger, 1771: 89, 85, 83, 99.

Marpurg, in contrast, took a more cautious point of view allowing licences in free
style. Firstly:
Neither the transfer nor the omission of the resolution belong to the
strict style, and even in the free style the utmost care must be taken not to
exaggerate therein and make inappropriate transfers and omissions.
Weder die Verwechselung noch Versteckung der Auflösung gehört in

den ernsthaften Styl, und selbst in der freyen Schreibart ist die größte
Behutsamkeit anzuwenden, um nicht darinnen auszuschweissen, und
ungeschickte Verwechselungen und Versteckungen zu machen.245
Secondly, Marpurg was also not at ease with the rising seventh as admissible
voice-leading. While he initially tolerated it, although warning not to use it lightly
(nicht leicht brauchen), he became more severe stating, in the second edition of his
Handbuch, that this progression is ‘fundamentally wrong and irregular’ (grundfalsch
und unregelmäßig).246 In fact, the only licence in free style he did really approve of was
the introduction of an unprepared seventh.247
Bach, for his part, did not eschew these liberties in his own compositions and,
more specifically, in the Art of Fugue:
79 I I
ú ú #Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï
ú Ï Ï # Ï Ï c #îú ÏÏ™ Ï™nÏ Ï
78 10
& b C Ï bÏ Ï #Ï Ï nÏ #Ï zÏ Ï
J
Î Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™
? C #ú #Ï ##ÏÏ Î Ï Ï c Ï™ nÏ Ï Ï ™ Ï #Ï ™ #ÏÏ
™
{ b Î #Ï #Ï J
I : unprepared dissonance
Example 49a: Contrapunctus 4, bars 78-79; Contrapunctus 6, bar 10.

246. Marpurg, 1757: 149 & 1762: 59-60; English translation in Arnold 1931/2003: 843.
247. Marpurg, 1762: 153. Marpurg only formulated this licence in the second edition of his Handbuch. In
its first edition he merely mentioned irregular resolutions of a dissonance in free style as possible
deviations from the regular treatment of dissonances (Marpurg, 1757: 89).
m
Ï
& c ú Ï Ï #ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï
11 12
Ï™ Ï #Ï ™ Ï
ä ÏJ ÏÏ Ï
? c úú Ï #Ï
Ï #Ï
úÏ
{ Omission of a seventh’s resolution
Ï
Example 49b: Aria variata in A minor BWV 989, bars 11-12a.
µ
#c Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ™ÏÏú Ï Ï™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï 21 j Ï j ú
#Ï #Ï Ï Ï#Ï ú úw ú
16 59 101 102
& Ï ú b C Ï™
Ï™ Ï# Ï Ï ú ™ C Ïú Ï #Ï Ï#Ï c w
j
™
Ïw Î Î
? #c Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ä Î î ÏÏÏ Ï w
Ï Ï Ï Ïú Ï nÏú Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï b C C Ï
Ï Ï c Ï b
{
Example 49c: Canone alla Terza from Goldberg Variations BWV 988, bar 16; Contrapunctus 2,
bar 59; Contrapunctus 10, bar 21; Contrapunctus 14, bars 101-102.
Voice-leading issues or licences, however, were not only discussed in relation to the
part containing the dissonance but also in relation to its setting.
Firstly, with regard to the constitution of the chords containing dissonances,
Marpurg, speaking on behalf of virtually every theorist, asserted the following:
Never … can the seventh, or another dissonance in chords in root position

or in inverted chords, be doubled.
Niemahls … kann die Septime, oder eine andere Dissonanz weder in einem
Grund- noch umgekehrten Accorde, verdoppelt werden.248
The following example illustrates, however, that Bach did not find this an unbreak-
able rule (which he also formulated in his Vorschriften und Grundsätze in fact)249:
248. Marpurg, 1757: 89. See also Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): 22.
249. J. S. Bach, 1738: 41.
úw ú úúw ú Ïú Ï #Ï úú
&C w b C Ï nÏ ÏÏ#Ï #ÏÏ Ï nÏÏ Ï
1 2 3 68
ú™ Ï
nÏ
ú™ Ï Ï ú™ ÏÏÏÏ Ï
?C w w Ï Ï úw C #Ï Ï Ï nÏ #ÏÏ nÏÏ
{ b
Example 50: Fantasia in A minor BWV 904, bars 1-3; Contrapunctus 11, bar 68.
Secondly, Marpurg, again formulating a generally accepted view, explained that

the descending resolution of the seventh ‘into the octave, when the bass descends
a third’ (in die Octave, wenn der Baß eine Terz unter sich geht) is ‘the most insecure’ (die
unsicherste), due to the possible mistake of a direct octave:250
ú úúú úú
& #úú ú ú úú úú
? ú ú ú w
ú ú
{
Example 51: Marpurg, 1757: Tab. IV Fig. 12.
To render this voice-leading acceptable, a full-voiced texture should be used, with the
seventh preferably in a middle voice, we are told by Marpurg.251 When the seventh
does occur in the highest part, he stated that the direct octave can be remedied by
adding an accented passing note in the bass at the moment that the seventh resolves:
& Ïú Ï
ú bene
? Ï
{ Ï Ï
Example 52: Marpurg, 1757: Tab. IV Fig. 13a.

251. Although Kirnberger did not mention this particular resolution of the seventh, he would certainly
have disapproved of it between the outer voices, on account of the direct octave (see above).
As for Mattheson, he approached this voice-leading somewhat differently, allowing

the resulting direct octave to be written in the outer voices all the same, yet preferably
in a five-part instead of a four-part texture.252
It would appear that Bach, for his part, rather preferred to avoid this voice-lead-
ing in a four-part texture, even when the seventh occurs in a middle voice. Consider
example 53.
73
ÏÏ™ Ïú Ï Ï™ Ï74#Ï Ï ú
& b C Ï ™ Ï™ Ï Ï™ Ï ú Ï ™ Ï Ï™ Ï
? b C Ïú Ï úú Ï™
Ï Ï#ÏÏ ™ Ï ÏÏ ™ Ï Ï ™#Ï
{ Ï
In Contrapunctus 2 Bach elaborately used a motif consisting of two neighbouring sub-

ject tails introduced by a suspension. While this double motif mostly occurs in its
original form (see, for instance, the tenor in bar 74), in bar 73 the first note in the
alto after the suspension is not the expected e2 but an a1. The reason for this harmoni-
cally slightly weaker variant cannot actually, in my opinion, be anything else than to
circumvent the descending direct octave between alto and bass which the repeated
e2 would have yielded.
Thirdly, Marpurg, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach and Kirnberger were in perfect
agreement that the suspension of the ninth in the upper voice resolving over the
same bass note cannot be prepared with an octave over the preceding bass because
this would result in a progression with, for them, unacceptable octaves:253
& w ú ú
? wk l
w
k
Example 54: Kirnberger: 1771: 75.

{
252. Mattheson, 1739: 320.
253. Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): 61; Marpurg, 1757: 129; C. P. E. Bach, 1762: 161 & Kirnberger, 1771:
74-75.
In general Johann Sebastian Bach seems to have followed the same reasoning.
Nevertheless, he occasionally did permit himself to prepare the ninth with the octave
when the latter is durchgehend:
Ï
1
° c Ï
Soprano
e strumenti & Ï Ï
&c Ï
Ich ar - mer Mensch,
ÏÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï
Alto
e strumenti
&c Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï
Ich ar - - mer Mensch,
Tenore
e strumenti
Ï Ï Ï
‹ Ich ar
? c Ï
- - mer Mensch,
Ï
Basso
e strumenti ¢
?c Ï Ï Ï
Ich ar - mer Mensch,
Ï
Continuo Ï
Example 55a: Choral no. 6 from cantata Siehe zu, daß deine Gottesfurcht nicht Heuchelei sei
BWV 179, bar 1a (Bärenreiter-Verlag (NBA), 1986).
nÏ Ï Ï bÏ
& ÏÏ #Ï Ï ÏbÏÏJ ä äÏ ÏJ ÏÏ™Ï Ï Ï Ï
15
c
b Ïú Ï Ï # Ï Ï ™ n Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï
?c Ï
{
Example 55b: Prelude 1 in C major BWV 870/1 (WTC 2), bar 15.
& b c w Ïbú
173 174
Ï™ J úÏ Ï Ï Ïú #Ï Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ïú Ï Ï Ï úÏ Ï Ï#Ï
? b c bw
{
Example 55c: Contrapunctus 14, bars 173-174.
Fourthly, theorists also dealt with the 9‑8 suspension specifically when it occurs in
the bass. As for Kirnberger, he did not show himself an enthusiast of this type of
voice-leading. Whereas he plainly condemned it in his Kunst des reinen Satzes,254 two
years later in his Wahren Grundsätze zum Gebrauch der Harmonie Kirnberger formulated a
less categorical point of view, still considering it even so to be irregular:
The seven-four-two chord …, where the suspension is in the bass as ninth
from the root, is used rarely and with discretion by great harmonists.
Der … Secundquartseptimenaccord, wo der Vorhalt als None vom

Grundtone im Baß liegt, wird von großen Harmonisten selten und mit
Behutsamkeit gebraucht.255
Nevertheless, judging from other treatises, both earlier and later, it would appear
that this bass suspension was in fact generally accepted. Mattheson, for instance,
specified that:
when the seventh goes to the octave, the lower voice is suspended and moves
in contrary motion with the upper, since this latter first goes up a minor
third and then the former goes down a step. In this case, it can be done well
with four voices, indeed with three voices [see example 56].
wenn die Sept in die Octave gehet, ist die Unterstimme gebunden, und hält
mit der obern eine Gegenbewegung, da diese erst eine kleine Tertz hinauf,
und jene hiernächst einen Ton herabtritt. Mit vier, ja mit drey Stimmen kan
es diesfalls wol bestellet werden.256
& w bw úú úú
motu contr.
ú ú w
bw w w
? w ú bú w
{
Example 56: Mattheson, 1739: 321.
The 9‑8 bass suspension finds further acceptance, for that matter, in the writings of
Heinichen, Marpurg, Sorge and Schröter.257
As example 57 illustrates, Bach also saw nothing wrong with this voice-leading:
254. Kirnberger, 1771: 75.

257. Heinichen, 1728: 188-191; Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): 36; Marpurg, 1757: 159; Sorge, 1760: 28 &
Schröter, 1772: 121.
ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï
127 128 101 102
& b C Ï Ï #Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï C ÏÏ #Ï úÏ Ï Ï Î ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï
Ï
Ï mµ¶ j Ï Î Î Ï
? b C ÏÏ Ï úú ÏÏ Ïú Ï Ï ÏÏ#Ï C ÏÏ™ Ï Ï ÏÏ nÏÏ Ï # ÏÏ Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
{
Example 57: Contrapunctus 8, bars 127-128; Contrapunctus 11, bars 101-102.
Yet on some occasions he did specifically seem to avoid it. Consider example 58.
& b c ÏÏ™ Ï Ï ÏÏ
27
úú
J
? cú
Ï™ Ïj ú Ï Ï Ï
{ b ä
Whereas Bach systematically tied every consonant minim to a dissonant quaver in

Contrapunctus 5, only once, in the bass of bar 27b, he renounced this obvious tie,
deciding on a quaver rest instead. The reason for this intervention was undoubtedly
voice-leading, hence reducing the effect of both nachschlagende fifths and octaves.
Fifthly, theorists generally agreed on the fact that the interval of the fourth can be,
depending on its context, consonant or dissonant, a differentiation with obvious con-
sequences for whether or not its doubling can be considered regular. Kirnberger, for
his part, pointed out that this dual nature of the fourth actually yields two types of
six-four chords, each with their own characteristics regarding constitution and voice-
leading. The first type is the consonant six-four chord, which, according to Kirnberger:
has all the properties of a consonant chord; that is, the fourth as well as
the sixth can be doubled, both can be introduced without preparation, and
neither requires a specific progression or resolution, as do dissonances. …
This consonant six-four chord can occur on weak as well as strong beats.
alle Eigenschaften eines consonirenden Accordes hat; nemlich so wol die

Quarte als Sexte können verdoppelt werden, sie können frey eintreten, und
sie bedürfen nicht, wie die Dissonanzen, einer bestimmten Fortschreitung
oder Auflösung. … Dieser consonirende Quart-Sexten-Accord kann sowol
in guten als schlechten Takttheilen vorkommen.258

In spite of this chord’s unquestionable legitimacy, according to Kirnberger, its use

was apparently not that common, as he recounted:
There are still composers who are afraid to use the six-four chord as a con-
sonance.
Man findet doch immer Componisten, die sich fürchten den Quart-Sexten-
Accord consonirend zu brauchen.259
Yet examples 58 and 59 illustrate that Bach was not among those composers.
& b C núÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï ÎÏ
15
Ï
? b C #úÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï nÏÏ Ï
{ nÏ
As for the second type, the dissonant six-four chord, it is characterized by its fourth
and sixth which act as dissonant suspensions delaying the third and fifth of the root
(while in the consonant six-four chord the upper note of the fourth is the root).
According to Kirnberger, therefore, this chord,
like all suspensions, always falls on the good part of the bar.
wie alle Vorhalte, fällt immer auf den guten Theil des Takts.260
Besides dissonances, certain consonances have a directional tendency as well. Apart

from the most obvious example, the leading tone, the sixth scale step in a minor key
also functions as an ‘active step’, the latter being particular because it can occur a
half or a whole step above the fifth scale step. In the former case, the sixth scale step
often descends to the fifth scale step (though it can also descend to any other scale
259. Kirnberger, 1771: 50-51, footnote 30; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 71, footnote 30.
step); in the latter case it usually rises to the leading note. Yet there are instances too,
as the Art of Fugue, amongst others, illustrates, where the particular form of the sixth
scale step moves in the opposite expected direction.
Firstly, the flattened sixth scale step occasionally ascends to the lowered seventh
scale step when both notes, for instance, are involved in a iv-i progression, or even to
the leading note, thus creating an augmented second:
C ÏÏ ÏbÏÏ Ï úÏ #Ï Ï nÏ
55 56 126
& b C úÏ Ï úÏ Ï
úÏ ™™ Ï
#Ï J
ÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏ ÏÏÏ Î
?bC Ï ú C ú Ï bÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï
{ ·
iv6 i
Example 60: Contrapunctus 1, bars 55-56a; Contrapunctus 4, bar 126.
The latter voice-leading, however, caused disagreement amongst theorists.

According to Kirnberger, melodic augmented intervals must be avoided in strict
style, but ‘occur frequently in the light style’ (kommen im leichten [Satz] häufig vor).261
Without referring to style, Marpurg, in contrast, remained generally reluctant to
accept this type of progression.262 As for Mattheson, he claimed that, despite his
preference for a charming melodic style:
Yet as concerns the … interval of the augmented second, it has nothing at all
terrifying about it; if one considers it alone and uses it in the melody, since in
certain cases it is more than well appropriate and can be more than well sung.
Was aber das … Intervall der übermäßigen Secunde betrifft, so hat solches
eben nichts ungeheures an sich; wenn man es allein betrachtet und in der
Melodie gebraucht, da sichs in gewissen Fällen überaus wol schickt und
singen läßt.263
Secondly, the raised sixth scale step sometimes descends to the fifth scale step when,
for instance, the former acts as a passing note after a descending leading note within
a dominant chord continuing in a tonic chord:

262. Marpurg, 1755 (Handbuch): 7 & 69; Marpurg, 1760: 279-281.
Ï #Ï ™ Ï Ï™#Ï nÏÏ Ï úÏ Ï
ú Ï #Ï ú C Ï™ Ï™ Ï ™ Ï ™ Ï Ï™
Ï ™ ÏÏ
26 27 72 73
& bC úú Ï™ ™#Ï ú úÏ Ï™
™Ï Ï
ú Î
Ï ™Ï Ï ™ Ï # Ï ™nÏ Ïú
? bC ÏÏ ™ # ÏÏ n#Ï nÏ
Ï
Ï™ Ï ™ Ï ú ú bú
Ï ú
{ Ï ú Ï ú CÏ Ï ú
Example 61: Contrapunctus 2, bars 26-27 & 72-73.
A descending raised sixth scale step can also occur, according to Kirnberger, when
one does not harmonize in the Aeolian but in the Dorian mode. In fact, he explained
that this way of harmonizing was still rewarding for setting a modal chorale melody
since it allows preserving the melodic characteristic of its mode, which is related to
a specific Affekt.264 When melodies can be set occasionally in more than one mode,
Kirnberger recommended that the expression of the text should determine the
choice.265 The only licence he found indispensable to add to the modal concept was
the introduction of the leading note to those modes with a seventh scale step origi-
nally occurring a whole step below the tonic.
Dorian.
& úúú bw
w w
ú #ú úú úú w
úú úú úú z úúú # úú úú
ú w
w
wú # ú w
w
w
n D''''xf cgY'''D \lb c hb hb jZ v Z
? ú ú ú ú ú ú ú
{ ú #ú ú ú w w
Aeolian, transposed a �fth lower.
& b úúú w
w wú w úú y úúú # úú úú w
ú #ú ú úú w
w ú ú [ ú] úú # úú [
w
w
w]
n fx cgY \lb c fx m jZ hb hb Z
?b ú ú ú ú ú ú #ú ú ú w
{ ú ú ú ú
Example 62 actually shows two different harmonizations of the same melody, about
which Kirnberger commented:
264. Kirnberger, 1776: 42-44.

265. Ibid.: 61.
The first example is Dorian because, except for the first B¨ of the second
bar, Bª is applied throughout as the major sixth of the main note [that is the
tonic]. The second is Aeolian, despite the same melody in the main voice,
because the minor sixth of the tonic is applied throughout. This causes the
first example to appear far more dignified and respectable than the second,
and the latter far softer and more tender than the first.
Das erste Exempel ist dorisch, weil außer dem ersten b des zweyten Takts,
durchgängig h als die große Sexte des Haupttones angebracht ist. Das zweyte
ist, ohngeachtet der nemlichen Melodie in der Hauptstimme aeolisch, weil
durchgängig die kleine Sexte des Haupttones angebracht ist. Dieses verur-
sacht, daß das erste Beyspiel sich weit würdiger und anständiger als das
zweyte, und dieses weit weichlicher und zärtlicher als das erste ausnimmt.266
Also in Bach’s oeuvre we can find excerpts in which ‘the major sixth of the tonic’,
being a chord factor of a subdominant chord, descends to the fifth scale step:
bb C · · · Î Î Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ nÏÏ Ï ÏÏ #ÏÏ
15 16 17 7 8 9
& b #ÏÏ™ Ï Ï ÏÏ ú n ú b Ï
Ï Ï Ïú Ï Ï Ï Ï b C ÏJ Ï ™#ÏÏ Ï n Ï Ï Ï™ n Ï
n Ï Ï Ï Î J Ï n Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï
J
J
? bb C · · Ï Ï
{ b ·· ·· ú ·ú bC ·
·
·
· Î Ï·
·
Example 63: Ricercare a 6 from the Musical Offering BWV 1709, bars 15-17; Contrapunctus 11,
bars 7-9.
Related to the false melodic progressions, cross-relations were generally considered

irregular voice-leading as well, of which one can recognize three basic types. The
first type, which was basically condemned by theorists, occurs when two different
chromatic alterations of a note sound in different parts of adjacent chords:
ú zú #ú ú ú #ú ú zú
& ú ú ú zú
? ú bú bú
ú ú zú
ú ú #ú ú
{ bú ú
Example 64: Marpurg, 1757: Tab. II Fig. 3; Mattheson, 1739: 290; Kirnberger, 1771: 60.
266. Kirnberger, 1776: 62-63; my English translation.

As for Marpurg, however, he did specify that this type of cross-relation forms less of
problem when occurring in the middle voices of a full-part texture.267
The second type of cross-relation occurs when two different versions of a note
sound together, a voice-leading which Mattheson judged as ‘more than an unharmo-
nious cross relationship’ (mehr, als ein unharmonischer Queerstand).268
Bach, for his part, seems to have been quite tolerant to both types of cross-rela-
tion, including those between the outer voices, in earlier works as well as in the Art of
Fugue. Even so, his approval of the first one apparently did require the cross-relation
to occur between two different chords for the most part (see example 65),269 while
he regularly applied the second type, though only when both chromatic notes con-
stitute an interval which is durchgehend (see example 67) .
b j n Ï Ïj ä #ÏnÏ Ïj ä ä j
& b b c Ï ä Å ÏnÏ#Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏnÏÏ ÏÏ ä
Ï Ï Ï ä ä Ï ä
17 18
ÏJ Ï
Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
? bb c Ï Ï nÏ Ï #Ï Ï Å Ï nÏ nÏ
{ b Ï
b j j Ï Ï Ïú Ï nÏ Ï
& b b ä nÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ä ä nÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ä b C ÏÏ Ï Ïú Ï Ï #ÏÏ
19 49 50
Ï #Ï
Ï nÏ Ï nÏ
Ï ™ Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï™ Ïn Ï Ï Ï
? bb Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï b C ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï
{ b nÏ äJ äJ
Example 65: Fugue 2 in C minor BWV 847/2 (WTC 1), bars 17-19; Contrapunctus 11,

bars 49-50.
267. Marpurg, 1757: 77.

269. Although remaining rare, cross-relations do occur in one chord in Bach’s oeuvre (see, for instance,
Ï™ Ï Ï Ï
example 66).
Ï
&b C Ï
65
Î î
ä Å r nÏ # Ï Ï
?bC ú Ï ™ bÏ#Ï
Ï™ Ï™ Ï
Example 66:
{
Contrapunctus 2, bar 65.
#Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï b Ï Ï Ï c bÏ C Ïú Ï ÏnÏ úÏ Ï#Ï
12 33 34
c
& ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ä Å Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï™
Å Ï n Ï b
Ï Ï
R Åä Î Ï Ï #Ï Ï
ä j
?c Ï #Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï c ÏwÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ bÏ b C Ï bÏ ·ú
{ #Ï
Example 67: Sinfonia 1 in C major BWV 787, bar 12; Prelude 1 in C major BWV 870/1
(WTC 2), bar 33; Contrapunctus 4, bar 34.
With regard to the third type of cross-relation, the occurrence of a crossed tritone due
to the succession of two adjacent major thirds, theorists disagreed on whether or not
this voice-leading was acceptable. Schröter adhered the most severe principles, disap-
proving of this succession both ascending and descending.270 Marpurg also rejected
this type of cross-relation, yet allowing it even in the outer voices in an emergency or
on account of Affekt.271 Kirnberger, for his part, held a somewhat more nuanced point
of view. While always condemning ascending parallel major thirds resulting in a
crossed tritone as ‘not good’ (nicht gut), he judged descending parallel major thirds to
be ‘less bad’ (weniger slecht) and major thirds in contrary motion even ‘good’ (good).272
As for Mattheson, taking a more practical approach in this matter, he stated that:
an unharmonious cross relationship can be heard in two pitches occurring
in immediate succession in two different voices, which one otherwise can-
not bring together without unusual dissonance.
ein unharmonischer Queerstand zween solche Klänge, in zwo verschiede-

nen Stimmen, gleich nach einander hören lasse, die man sonst nicht, ohne
ungemeinen Mislaut, zusammen bringen kan.273
He formulated it in an even simpler way:
Whatever can occur simultaneously is also not prohibited in succession.
Was zusammen stehen kan, ist auch nach einander unverboten.274
270. Schröter, 1772: 47.

271. Marpurg, 1757: 76-77.
272. Kirnberger, 1771: 139-140.
273. Mattheson, 1739: 289; English transition in Harriss, 1981: 568.
274. Mattheson, 1739: 293; English transition in Harriss, 1981: 576.
As example 68 illustrates, Bach did not have any problem with the third type of cross-
relation either:
nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï
13b 14 33b 34
& b C ä Ï #Ï #Ï Ï
?bC Ï Ï Ï Ï
6
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï bÏ
6
{ #Ï
Example 68: Canon alla Duodecima, bars 13b-14a & 33b-34a.
With this chapter I wanted to illustrate that theorists from Bach’s time and environ-
ment presented voice-leading guidelines which are usually variable, depending on the
circumstances of a setting (its number of parts, voice distribution, tempo etc.). While
the voice-leading in the Art of Fugue could indeed be called questionable on many occa-
sions when evaluated according to modern criteria, German eighteenth-century music
theory, on the other hand, suggests that most of these supposed issues should be
viewed as at least being acceptable. In fact, as will become clear from the discussions
in the second part of this book, a thorough knowledge of German eighteenth-century
voice-leading principles facilitates considerably the textual criticism of BWV 1080.
PART TWO
Abbreviations 177
1.
On Contrapunctus 1
C ontrapunctus 1 is usually described as the first of four ‘simple’ fugues of the Art of
Fugue, the term ‘simple’ indicating that in these pieces Bach consciously avoided
the contrapuntal techniques for which the Art of Fugue subject was basically designed –
stretto, diminution, augmentation, contrary motion, invertible counterpoint and sub-
ject transformation.275 Although these special devices, it is true, will be fully exploited
later in the work, this assertion seems somewhat too categorical to me. In fact, Bach
did use subject transformation and (incomplete) stretto in all four simple fugues,
contributing to both the textural variety and an overall increase in complexity.
Furthermore, besides displaying the concept of diminution, albeit only applied to
the opening interval of the subject, Contrapunctus 1 also contains, as Benito V. Rivera
has demonstrated, an ingenious, unusual kind of counter-subject. The latter devi-
ates from standard fugal procedure because it is varied considerably with regard to
its decoratio, and gradually disintegrates in the course of the piece, distributing the
fragments into several voices, which renders it barely recognizable.276
In spite of the varied appearances of the counter-subject throughout the piece,
the decoratio of Contrapunctus 1 is generally angular due to the consistent presence of
leaping quaver motifs in the second bar and the first half of the third bar of the coun-
ter-subject. Moreover, this typically instrumental style repeatedly causes the most
troublesome feature for obtaining a transparent execution of keyboard polyphony,
that is voice crossings, for which I suggest possible solutions.
On several occasions, less obvious or even unusual compositional choices in
the realm of the decoratio arguably highlight the dispositio, while others emphasize a
275. See, among others, Tovey, 1931/1960: 1-2 and Kerman, 2005: 34.
276. See Rivera, 1978.
particular motif or improve the rhythmic distribution. The decoratio also reveals ele-
ments of Bach’s view on interval mutation and voice-leading.
Since voice crossings endanger the clarity of the voice-leading, particularly on key-
board instruments, one might expect a rather modest use. They occur regularly,
however, in Bach’s harpsichord compositions, often causing serious polyphonic
confusion to the listener. It did indeed not seem to bother Bach that some contra-
puntal fabrics reveal themselves only from looking at the score. In bar 171 of the
Ricercar a 6 from the Musical Offering BWV 1079, for instance, the visual aspect of the
multi-part counterpoint clearly prevails over its audible comprehensibility:
° bb C Ï Ï
170 171
& b ÏÏú ú î
bbb C · ú nú
B
B bbb C ú ÏÏÏÏ Ï Ï
nÏ nÏ Ï Ï
yÏ
B bbb C ú Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
B bbb C Ï Ïy Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ï nÏ Ï Î
?bC · Î Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ
¢ bb
Example 1: Ricercare a 6 from the Musical Offering BWV 1079, bars 170-171.
The four voice crossings in the opening exposition of Contrapunctus 1 also illustrate,
though less extremely, Bach’s preference for motivic consistency over distinctly per-
ceivable voice-leading. The second one, between the soprano and the alto in bar 11a,
is explained by the presence of a fragment of the ‘undisguised’ counter-subject,277
while the first one in bar 9a, again between the upper voices, preserves the counter-
subject’s characteristic descending fifth, though in this case it is pure instead of
277. This crossing was not a technical necessity and could easily have been avoided. After all, like the
alto in bar 11, which repeats its dissonance g1 before resolving, the quaver b¨1 in the soprano on the
downbeat of that bar could have been followed by a repeated dissonance b¨1 instead of the quaver e1,
which would have resulted, for that matter, in an imitation between the two upper voices.
On Contrapunctus 1 179
diminished.278 In bar 13a Bach stretched the descending fifth into a seventh, which
yields another, apparently redundant, voice crossing between the soprano and alto,
the suspension c2 in the soprano being merely embellished with a leap of a seventh
downwards to the root d1 and then upwards a seventh again to the very same c2. This
striking, highly unusual, voice-leading, however, was not only Bach’s best option to
ensure the continuous quaver movement,279 but these large leaps also emphasize the
beginning of the tenor’s subject entry, the last one of the exposition. The final voice
crossing of this exposition, between alto and tenor in bar 13b, seems to come as a
consequence of the third voice crossing and, moreover, gives harmonic sense by its
presence – the g© adds a diminished seventh chord to the setting.
With regard to the performance of voice crossings in general, I would argue that
the very nature of counterpoint implies that, in playing them, the individuality of
each part should be respected as far as is technically possible. To me the most effec-
tive practical solution to the four voice crossings at the beginning of Contrapunctus 1 is
to play the quavers, which cause the voice crossings, short, an articulation allowing
the other, regularly proceeding voices ‘undergoing’ the crossing to be perceived as
remaining in their correct position.
The last note in the soprano of bar 8 needs consideration. At first sight, it could
be wondered whether the ¨ before this b1 is not a mistake and should rather be read as
a ª. After all, the soprano in bars 5‑9a proposes a comes form of the Art of Fugue subject,
rather implying bª1 as the penultimate note. Yet with this prematurely reintroduced
B¨ (and with the f©1 in the alto in the first half of that bar, for that matter), Bach
smoothed the transition from A minor to D minor instead of relying on a transition
for this purpose.280
278. Again, Bach had other alternatives to avoid this awkward voice-leading, for instance, a crotchet a1
or two quavers a1-e2 in the soprano, the second option being perhaps less attractive because the e2
would have formed an indirect tritone with the b¨1 on the last quaver bar 8.
279. There are in fact no real alternatives which are valuable for maintaining the rhythmic motion. An a1
or a neighbour note bª1 instead of the d1 would result in too monotonous a line. Bach must also have
considered writing a d2 but this would have been less expressive and motivically less consequent.
280. The textual correctness of the B¨ is confirmed by bar 16, where it also occurs, in the tenor, as the
penultimate note of the comes. As far as I know, this brilliant feature with regard to tonal answering
is only used in the Art of Fugue and remains unmentioned by any textbook on fugue. On the other
hand, we saw in chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’ that Bach was not troubled with a raised sixth scale
step descending to a fifth scale step in a minor key in itself, not even in similar transitions from
comes to dux like the one from bar 8 to 9 in Contrapunctus 1 – surely a consequence of modal influences
still present in eighteenth-century German music making.
Bar 16a underwent a modification in the bass arguably for structural reasons.

For the print Bach changed the manuscript crotchets e‑f© into four quavers e‑g‑f©‑a.
Besides ensuring a continuous quaver movement and adding variety to the initially
literal reproduction of the counter-subject,281 this richer texture actually proposes a
more engaged conclusion to the opening exposition.
Probably as a consequence of the new bass in bar 16a, Bach made a similar cor-
rection to the soprano in bar 17a. While the manuscript gives two quavers g1‑e1 and
a crotchet f1, the print has four quavers g1‑e1‑f1‑d1, the latter being the inversus of the
four-quaver motif in the bass in bar 16a.
Bach correspondingly revised the soprano in bar 23a as well, opting, however,
for an unusual d2 instead of the obvious d1, even when this results in a rather pecu-
liar melodic line (g1-e1-f1-d2-e1-d1-a1), to say the least. I can see no reason for this
singular compositional choice other than a rhetorical one: this d2 functions as a
hyperbaton, drawing the attention to the beginning of the middle entry following a
six-bar episode.282
Looking at the motivic consistency which Contrapunctus 1 displayed until now, it is
somewhat surprising that the bass in bar 23b did not undergo the same adaptation
as the soprano half a bar earlier, that is, changing the crotchet c© into two quavers
c©-a. Perhaps Bach wanted to avoid the unison between the tenor and bass on the last
quaver of bar 23 because the tenor’s tied a on the downbeat of bar 24, just having
been restruck, would have sounded louder than the suspension in the soprano as a
result.283 Alternatively, he might have decided to keep the manuscript version in order
to maintain the melodic logic of the descending bass sequence starting in bar 21.
As already explained in chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’, Bach seems to have
accepted a direct octave between the outer voices, as long as it is ascending, occur-
ring from a main beat to its weaker half and including a dissonance on the main
beat. Nevertheless, it remains imperative to be careful with this voice-leading in
performance, in order to avoid an audible perception of the direct octave. I would,
therefore, suggest, with regard to bar 20b, using no, or hardly any, articulation
before the octave d1-d2.
281. This is the only time in the piece that Bach reused the counter-subject (almost) literally.
282. I do not think the argument is credible that Bach did not write a d1 as fourth quaver in the soprano
of bar 23 in order to avoid the unison repetition with the first note of the alto’s subject, since this
very voice-leading occurs between the upper voices in bar 79 of Contrapunctus 2.
283. An A instead of an a does not appear to be a valuable option either. Since the bass in bars 21‑26a
works as a catabasis spanning the descending twelfth a‑D with the structural A on the downbeat of
bar 25, the premature touching of the A in bar 23b would have weakened its Affekt unnecessarily.
The chord factor distribution in bar 24b generates another voice-leading issue.

When a note with a directional tendency is doubled, in this case the sixth scale step
B¨ in the bass and tenor, there is always a danger of consecutive octaves. Although
more elegant ways of getting round this difficulty exist, the insertion of a rest and
the fifth preceding the a in the tenor in bar 25a, merely yielding a durchgehende octave,
effectively diminishes the perception of parallelism.284
In bar 28, the second bar of a short episode, the print differs again from the man-
uscript. While the early version has an e in the bass in the middle of the bar, Bach
corrected this note into an E for the print, probably to avoid the false entry of the
subject starting a bar later in the bass on that same note e. Yet this octave change also
has its impact on the dispositio, the E – which works like a hyperbaton –285 rounding off
this two-bar episode more decisively.
In the following group of thematic statements which starts in bar 29 Bach pre-
sented two new features illustrating his concern with an overall increase in com-
plexity. Firstly, he introduced, for the first time in the piece, an (incomplete) stretto.
A suggestion of a subject, breaking off after three minims, enters in the bass one
minim after the start of the soprano’s dux on the downbeat in bar 29. Furthermore,
a second riposta, again in the bass and this time complete, enters on the fourth bar
of the soprano’s dux, anticipating the type of stretto Bach used extensively in the
first part of Contrapunctus 5. Secondly, this second riposta delivers the subject with a
transposed second half, a transformation featured in Contrapunctus 4.
During this thematic passage the keyboard player is confronted again with several
voice crossings which, like those in the opening exposition, are the result of motivic
284. Another example confirming that Bach considered the error of parallelism to be resolved by the
insertion of an intermediate note, can be seen in bar 69a of this Contrapunctus between the bass
and alto. If this voice-leading had disturbed him, he would probably have written two quavers f1-a1
instead of the crotchet a1 in the alto on the downbeat in bar 69. (This alternative version actually
has the advantage, for that matter, of maintaining the exchange of the fundamental note and its
third occurring between the outer voices on the downbeat of bar 68, and moreover avoids the alto
producing the same material in the two successive bars 69 and 70.) For more detailed information,
see chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’.
285. This hyperbaton is the result of an unexpected descending fourth as the final interval of a bass
progression which proposes for the rest only ascending intervals from each ‘bad’ quaver to the
following main beat in bars 26b‑28:
? C j Ï Ï™ j
26 27 28
b Ï™ j Ï™ Ï Ï J ÏÏ Î
Ï
Ï ÏÏ Ï
™
Example 2: Contrapunctus 1, bars 26-28 (only bass).

consistency. The first instance, occurring in bar 29 between the upper voices where the
alto’s quaver d2 crosses with the soprano’s minim a1, yields a descending diminished
fifth d2-g©1, which complements the ascending fourth a-d1 in the tenor one crotchet
earlier. This voice crossing additionally adds to the significance of the fact that this
middle entry presents, for the first time, a dux in A minor instead of a comes in D minor
– its opening interval is an ascending fifth instead of a fourth. The unexpected d2 of
the alto is thus overtaken by the equally unexpected e2, the second note of the subject
in the soprano. Although one mainly has to trust to the presence of the subject to
make the voice-leading clear in the upper voices, playing the d2 short enough to avoid
the perception of it going to the e2 might help to clarify this setting. One bar later, the
tenor and alto cross as well in order to allow the tenor to reproduce the motif of the
former bar a tone higher. The obvious way of realizing a clear distinction between the
tenor and alto in performance is by articulating more in the alto, which consists of
leaps, than in the conjunct movement in the tenor. The final voice crossing of this the-
matic passage is caused by a short imitation, based on the descending fifth, between
the soprano and alto in bar 35. In this case, it is imperative to slur the e1 to the f©1 in the
soprano in bar 35b in order to ensure a clear voice-leading.286
From the episode starting on the upbeat to bar 45 to the end of the piece, the dis-
positio becomes considerably tighter, the decoratio denser and the counterpoint more
intricate, further illustrating Bach’s care for an intensifying overall form. Firstly, this
episode combines, as does the first one in bars 17‑22, a canonic construction with an
ascending and descending gradatio, but lasts only three instead of six bars. Secondly,
a quaver upbeat ascending fourth, which could be interpreted as a double diminu-
tion of the opening interval of the comes, occurs abundantly, not only in this episode
but also in the following thematic passage, the latter starting in bar 48. Thirdly, Bach
opened this thematic passage, similar to the one starting in bar 29, with a three-part
(incomplete) stretto, but now in three different voices, and adding moreover a stretto
sine pausa to its texture. The middle voices, both presenting incomplete versions of
286. Contrapunctus 1 contains two more voice crossings. Firstly, the tenor and alto cross on the downbeat
of bar 60, which gives the tenor the opportunity to complete its thematically related motif of an
ascending fourth. In order to make this voice-leading clear – and thus to avoid the Ohrenoctaven
e/e1-d/d1 – I would suggest shortening the alto’s crotchet e1 into approximately a quaver whilst
playing the c©1 almost for its full length. Finally, the voice crossing between the upper voices in
bar 74b‑75a, the consequence of the fact that Bach probably wanted to avoid yet another d2 in the
soprano, requires the b¨1 to be slurred to the a1 in the alto in bar 74b. On the other hand, one should
make sure not to slur the minim d1 of the soprano in bar 75a to the minim e¨1 of the alto in bar 75b;
otherwise it would sound as if both notes belonged to the same voice.
the subject, start together on the downbeat of bar 48, the alto in normal proportion
(minims a1‑d2) and the tenor in diminution (crotchets e‑a), after which the soprano
enters one bar later with a complete subject. Fourthly, in bar 55 a three-part incom-
plete stretto begins as well, though organized in yet another way. Although the first
two entries are again incomplete – the soprano in normal proportion (minims f1‑b¨1)
and the alto in diminution (crotchets d1‑g1) – the latter enters in this case on the for-
mer’s second note. Its third entry, starting in bar 56, is also a complete dux, as in the
preceding stretto. Nevertheless, the fact that this thematic statement occurs in the
bass, which has been silent for almost seven bars before delivering a D minor dux,
makes it arguably considerably stronger than the A minor soprano dux starting in
bar 49. Fifthly, Bach provided a structural overlap between this thematic statement
and the following episode, which is the piece’s last. The bass in bar 59 not only con-
tains the final bar of the subject, but it is also the first segment of a sequence:
& b C Ïú™Ï Ï Ï ú Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ú bÏ Ïú#Ï Ï Ï ú #Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ ÏbÏ ÏÏ

59 60 61 62
Î #Ï Î
Ï Î Î
? b C úú nÏÏ Ï# ÏÏ Ï Î Î #Ï Ï Ï Ï Î Ï ú
äÏ Ï
j
Ï ú ÏbÏ ÏnÏ ú ÏÏÏÏ
{ ú™ Ï
Owing to the decoratio on the downbeat in bar 60, this beat does, all the same, func-
tion as the real start of the episode. Instead of writing the obvious minims in the
inner voices, Bach decided on crotchets, which therefore work as an apocope making
the beginning of this episode evident. Lastly, the second half of this episode displays
a similar canonic construction as in bars 17‑20, though metrically organized in a less
straightforward way. The bass, although starting in the middle of bar 66, acts as the
proposta, while the tenor answers on the downbeat of bar 67, possibly suggesting a
performance with shifted ‘good’ and ‘bad’ minims:
j Ï Ï
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï 68 Ïj Ï Ïj Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
Ï Ï Ï™ Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï™ ÏÏ nÏ
66 67 69
& b C #Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ™Ï nÏ Ï Ï J ÏJ Ï
ú ÏÏ ú Ïú #Ï Ï úÏ Ïú nÏ Ï úÏ Ï
?bC Ï ú Ï Ï Ï Ï
{ Ï™ Ï ÏÏ
J
Ïj 70 Ï #Ï Ï Ï
Ï ™ ÏJ Ï Ï #ÏÏ ÎÎ î
& b Ï™ ÏÏ Î î núú úú ÏÏ™nÏ#Ï
71 72 73
î Î î ÏJ
Ïú Ï b Ï úÏ ú n Ï Î Ï Î ú Ï ÏÏÏ Î
?b Ï î Ï î #ú ú™
{ Î î Î î Ï
This alternative metric hierarchy seems to be confirmed by the fact that, during the
first two and a half bars of this imitative setting, the middle of each bar has a suspen-
sion, whereas both downbeats are consonant. Furthermore, the chords in bars 70b,
71b and 72b function as ‘good’ minims owing to the rests on the downbeats of
bars 71 and 72.287 (Bar 72b actually functions as an expressive, ‘good’ third beat of
an implied 3/2 bar, after which the regular metric organization is reinstated on the
downbeat of bar 73 on account of the cadential six-four chord.)
The first half of the last episode underwent several corrections for the print, argu-
ably all improving the setting (example 5a contains the manuscript version of this
passage, example 5b that of the print).
b Ï ÏÏ ™ j nÏÏ Ï Ï ™ j Ï 33 Ï ™ j
ú Ï Ï # Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ïy Ï ™ Ï Ï™#ÏÏ Ï Ï nÏ nÏ Ï
Ï Ï Ï
30b 31 32
& b C Ï Ï ÏÏú bÏ ÏÏ#Ï ÏnÏ #Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï nÏ

Ï Î Î Î Î Î Î J J ™ J
Ï Ï
? b C ú Î ÎÏbÏ#ÏÏÏ Ï Î Î Ï Ï j
Î äÏ Ï Ï Î î Î Ï Ï Ï™ #Ïj Ï ™ Ïj ú
{ ú Ï ÏÏw w w w
Example 5a: ‘Contrapunctus 1’, manuscript bars 30b-33a.
287. Gustav Leonhardt also saw the second minim of bar 70 as ‘certainly [having] the stress’ (Leonhardt,
1952: 30). This beat, consisting of a crotchet third-inversion diminished seventh chord followed by
a crotchet rest, actually works as a powerful abruptio, emphasizing the shifted metre.
bÏ ÏÏ Ï nÏÏ 64 Ï Ï Ï Ï 65 Ï
& b C ÏÏ ÏÏú bÏ Ïú#Ï Ï Ï ú #Ï ÏÏ#ÏÏ ÏÏ Î Ï #ÏÏÏ ÏnÏ Ï #Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï ™Ï Ï Ï™#Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ ™nÏnÏ Ï
Ï Ï
60 61 62 63
Ï Î Î Î J J J
Ï ú
? b C ú Î ÏÎ bÏ#ÏÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Î Ï Ï j
äÏ Ï Ï Î î Î Ï Ï Ï™ #Ïj Ï ™ Ïj ú
{ ú Ï ÏÏ ú ™ Ï w w ú™ Ï
Example 5b: Contrapunctus 1, bars 60-65.
Firstly, while the soprano initially had e1 as the fourth quaver of the first beat and g1
as the fourth quaver of the third beat of manuscript bar 31, the print gives b¨1 and d2
(print bars 61 and 62, respectively), changing, as a result, the initial motifs of two
descending thirds into motifs consisting of one descending and one ascending
third. I believe that these small modifications are due to the peculiar voice-leading in
the first half of manuscript bar 31, where the e1 in the soprano leaps to the c2 instead
of going, as it normally would, to f©1. Although at first Bach apparently judged the
transferred resolution to the alto to be effective, he perhaps felt, when revising,
that the e1 falls on too ‘bad’ a part of a beat to make this voice-leading work, requir-
ing it to be replaced. This adaptation obviously caused him to alter, for reasons of
motivic consistency, the fourth quaver of the soprano in the following bar as well.
Secondly, by changing the original crotchets on the first and third beats of manu-
script bar 31 in the tenor and the alto, respectively, into anapaests (print bars 61a and
62a, respectively), Bach added more impetus to this passage.288 Finally, he changed
the semibreve G in the bass of manuscript bar 31b into a dotted minim G followed
by a crotchet G (print bar 62), probably for the same reason. This new version, in
addition, maintains more clearly the rhythmic pattern of the inner voices in the two
preceding bars characterized by the marking of each bar’s last crotchet, and there-
fore rounds off the sequence more convincingly. By analogy the bass of manuscript
bar 33a underwent the same modification (print bar 65), which has the secondary
advantage that the end of the pedal point, which on the harpsichord or clavichord
would have nearly died out, is restruck.289
288. To accompany these anapaests better, Bach also changed the original crotchets on the first and third
beats of manuscript bar 31 in the alto and the tenor, respectively, into minims (print bars 61a and
62a, respectively).
289. Although we do not possess any information by Bach on this matter, there can be no doubt that,
at some point, the tonic pedal point in bars 74‑78 requires restriking as well, a practice which,
One last textual matter requires consideration. In bar 70 a notational irregularity

occurs – the bass has a syncopated minim b¨ whereas the alto has two tied crotchets
g1 – which, according to Leonhardt,
may lead to the supposition that the slur was, by an error of the printer,
placed above one pair of notes too late … As it would have been an unique
case of prescribed phrasing in this Fugue, the supposition loses some of its
probability.290
While Leonhardt’s observations are valuable, I believe that these different notations
– present, for that matter, in both manuscript and print – are simply the result of the
horizontal logic of both voices; the alto has a similar notation in the preceding bar,
while the bass gives a minim on each second half of bars 66‑69.
Again, due arguably to his concern for an intensifying overall form, Bach decided
to expand the very end of this piece for the print, by adding the tonic pedal point and
one more subject entry in the tenor after the long, final episode, resulting in a more
affirmative conclusion to the piece.
Despite the general consensus on Contrapunctus 1 being a ‘simple’ fugue, special con-
trapuntal devices – some of which, it is true, are incomplete – do occur in this piece,
moreover in such a way that they yield an overall increase in complexity. Yet this
assessment has no theoretical motivation, and I rather prefer to argue that the rec-
ognition of these techniques significantly contributes to a more engaged and better-
constructed musical discourse. Another insight regarding Bach’s constant concern
with form, and more precisely its audible comprehensibility, can be gained from
comparing the manuscript with the print. It would appear that some of the revisions,
thanks to the textual unusualness of the joins between sections, deliberately focus
the attention not only on the decoratio but also on the dispositio.
in order to avoid the final chord of the piece sounding like a triad in second-inversion, finds
justification in Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s Versuch: ‘With regard to long held notes one has the
freedom to restrike the note now and then.’ (Bey langen Aushaltungen hat man die Freyheit, die lange
gebundene Note dann und wann wieder anzuschlagen.) C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 128; my English translation.
290. Leonhardt, 1952: 30, footnote 1.
2.
On Contrapunctus 2
C ontrapunctus 2, which also has a ‘disguised’ counter-subject,291 establishes two

new elements related to the Art of Fugue subject. Firstly, the quaver tail of the
rectus form of the Art of Fugue subject is altered to a dotted version (tied dotted quaver,
semiquaver, dotted quaver, semiquaver). As Wolfgang Wiemer has shown, this dot-
ted rhythm was actually an afterthought.292 (Perhaps Bach felt that the version with
quavers resembled Contrapunctus 1 too much.) Since this rhythmic modification was
applied to every group of quavers in Contrapunctus 2, it changes the style of the piece
considerably, and confronts the harpsichordist with several specific performance
problems relating to contradictory and varied rhythmic notations, and sloppily writ-
ten slurs. Secondly, the penultimate subject entry is presented in a syncopated ver-
sion, a useful subject transformation contributing to the overall increase in intricacy.
As will become clear from this discussion, the differences between the manu-
script and the printed versions of this Contrapunctus are considerable and complex,
making a textual analysis of this piece a real challenge. The decoratio also contains
some particular details which further clarify Bach’s view on voice-leading.
In the print of Contrapunctus 2 slurs occur from bar 4 to and including bar 13 and
again in bar 21, whereas in the manuscript they are completely absent. I would argue
that Bach added the slurs to the print to avoid the dotted rhythms being performed
with too much articulation. Consider, for instance, bars 4‑8 without taking the slurs
into account. Because of the dotted rhythms, suggesting both a more instrumental
291. As Rivera has convincingly proved with regard to Contrapunctus 2, Bach ‘has fragmented and
therefore camouflaged the countersubject by shifting it from one voice to another’ (Rivera, 1978:
347).
292. Wiemer, 1981: 413-22.
style than that of the quaver version as well as a flavour of stile francese, a performer
would probably opt for a rather sharply articulated manner of playing this four-note
rhythm. Yet Bach’s decision to add slurs seems to imply, as Wolfgang Wiemer also
suggests, a gentler dotting (more like playing inégal) instead of the typical French-
overture-like sharp dotting. Bach moreover did not give this piece the subtitle in stile
francese, as he did for Contrapunctus 6, the latter containing no slurs, which is in my
opinion a further argument in favour of this kind of performance.
The position of the slurs in the print, as it happens, lacks precision – it is not
always clear which notes they include. The performer and (modern) editor, there-
fore, are obliged to interpret them, which is apparently not always a straightforward
task, as a comparison of two authoritative current editions, Davitt Moroney’s for
Henle Verlag and Klaus Hofmann’s for Bärenreiter (NBA), demonstrates. While
both editors agree on the position of the slur in bar 4b over four notes, they place the
slurs in the bass of bar 5 differently. Moroney has them on only the first three notes
of each dotted four-note figure, whereas Hofmann puts the slurs on all four notes. It
would thus appear that Moroney, being himself a harpsichordist, favours the expres-
sive quality of both suspensions to the more equally distributed inégalité suggested
by Hofmann. Thanks to the three-note slurs, the preparation of these syncopations
is articulated so that the suspensions are brought out more clearly than when using
four-note slurs. In themselves, however, both suggestions seem equally valuable to
me; a performer should decide which articulation suits his musical approach best.
Consider now the bass in bar 8a. Whereas Hofmann and Moroney agree on the
slur being over four notes, the figure itself rather suggests a three-note slur, start-
ing on its second note, because of the octave leap followed by a neighbour note
pattern. My interpretation is actually based on the Baroque guideline that conjunct
notes should be generally (almost) slurred, whereas disjunct intervals require
(more) articulation.293
293. Quantz, for instance, stated the following: ‘The sustained and flattering notes [slurred notes
which ascend or descend stepwise] must be connected with each other, but the gay and leaping
ones must be detached and separated from one each other.’ (Die ausgehaltenen und schmeichelnden
Noten [schleifende Noten, welche stufenweise auf oder nieder gehen] müssen mit einander verbunden; die lustigen
und hüpfenden aber abgesetzet, und von einander getrennet werden./Les notes soutenuës & flattantes [des notes
coulées, qui montent ou descendent par degré] doivent être liées ensemble, les notes gaïes & sautantes séparées &
détachées l’une de l’autre.) Quantz, 1752 (German version): 105 (words between brackets from ibid.:
116); Quantz, 1752 (French version): 107 (words between brackets from ibid.: 118); my English
translation. As for Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, he was in agreement with Quantz: ‘In general one
can say that strong articulation occurs mostly with regard to jumping notes and in a swift tempo.
… Generally speaking, the slurs occur mostly with regard to the stepping notes and in a slower or
Hofmann and Moroney agree on the placement of both slurs in the bass of bar 12
as well, the first being a three-note slur starting on the second note, the second a
four-note slur. While I approve of the position of the first slur because of the octave
leap – one might wonder why they did not then apply this type of slur to bar 8a –
I would have the second slur begin on the second note as well. After all, the last three
notes are involved in a stepwise motion introduced by a disjunct interval.
As for bar 13a, this is the most awkward instance in the piece with regard to the
positioning of the slurs. According to Moroney and Hofmann, the alto and bass
have four-note slurs, in itself a fully convincing articulation due to the stepwise
motion in which chord factors (dotted quavers) alternate with neighbour and pass-
ing notes (semiquavers). Yet the semiquaver rest between the dotted minim d1, the
root of a D minor chord, and the semiquaver passing tone e1 in the tenor somewhat
upsets this interpretation. This rest was in fact added to the manuscript when Bach
changed the original rhythm dotted minim-quaver into this rhythmically sharper
variation. This particular notation was obviously the most elegant solution. The
flag of the quaver e1 pointed in the wrong direction for clearly adapting the dotted
minim-quaver into the rhythm crotchet tied to a dotted quaver followed by a semi-
quaver, a rhythm which perhaps would have been more coherent in the context of
this piece’s new version.294 In the print, however, he could have used this latter
notation, but apparently decided against it. I therefore find it highly improbable
that Bach intended this bar to be played as these modern editions suggest, that is
performing the semiquaver rest in the tenor while all four notes in the alto and bass
are slurred. After all, because the three lower voices have a similar semiquaver pass-
ing or neighbour note as the last note before the middle of bar 13, the semiquaver
rest in the tenor would contrast with the sounding dot of the third note in the alto
and bass in bar 13a, implying an unnecessarily different interpretation of its pass-
ing note. This issue thus leaves me no other option than to view and play the slurs
in the alto and the tenor in bar 13a as containing three instead of four notes, with a
coherent articulation of the three lower voices as a result.
more moderate tempo.’ (Ueberhaupt kan man sagen, daß das Stossen mehrentheils bey springenden Noten
und in geschwinder Zeitmaaße vorkommt. … Ueberhaupt zu sagen, so kommen die Schleiffungen mehrentheils
bey den gehenden Noten und in langsamer oder gemäßigter Zeit-Maasse vor.) C. P. E. Bach, 1753: 125-126;
my English translation.
294. We do find this rhythmical version in the alto in bars 69b‑70, which again seems, in the first place,
a consequence of Bach’s revision. After all, changing the original manuscript rhythm of a crotchet
tied to a quaver followed by another quaver into a crotchet tied to a dotted quaver followed by a
semiquaver was in this case the best solution for adding dotted rhythms.
I would argue that in the soprano of bar 21 Hofmann’s four-note slurs are prefer-
able to Moroney’s three-note slurs, the latter’s, which start on the second note of both
four-note figures, creating a questionable articulation for a complete and incomplete
neighbour note. (This editorial disagreement is caused by the fact that the slurs in the
print tend to be positioned more to the right than probably intended.295) Alternatively,
one could decide on slurring only the first three notes of the first four-note group,
since they form a neighbour-note figure followed by a leap of a third.296
The most difficult question to answer with regard to the dotted rhythm is
whether its varied beaming hints perhaps at a different articulation. In the manu-
script Bach always beamed all four notes of the dotted rhythm and all three notes
when its first note is replaced by a dotted quaver rest. Whereas the four-note dotted
figures in the print almost always have a beam over their four notes as well,297 the
subject’s tail motifs rectus and inversus, and the three-note neighbour figures, both
types introduced by a quaver rest and a semiquaver rest,298 were engraved in two
ways, this different beaming even occurring in nearly identical settings. Compare,
for instance, bar 11b with bar 15b. In contrast to the manuscript, where the three
notes of both motifs in the tenor are beamed together, the print presents notation-
ally different versions of these motifs. Does this dissimilarity in notation also imply a
change in musical conception and, consequently, in performance? Does one articu-
late between the first and second notes when the first note has a separate stem than
when it is beamed to the second and third notes of the motif? Knowing, as we saw
in chapter 1.1 ‘On Musical Rhetoric’, that variety was an important tool for holding
the audience’s attention, a performer might indeed favour playing both notations
differently. Nowadays, however, this difference in beaming is mainly considered to
be irrelevant, so that most modern editions unify the beaming as in the manuscript
295. John Butt illustrates this point regarding the slurs in the strings of the opening choir of the St John
Passion BWV 245 (Butt, 1990: 74). See also Dadelsen, 1978: 104.
296. In bar 6b I would also slur the first three rather than all four notes, since the first three notes move
in stepwise motion, while the last note makes a leap of a third.
297. There are only two exceptions, both in the bass. Firstly, in bar 28a the beaming is per two notes,
for no apparent reason. After all, the tenor and alto in the previous bar produce the same four-note
motif, with a beam over the four notes. Secondly, in the penultimate bar all eight notes are beamed.
Despite the fact that it is probably simply a mistake by the editor, the beam over eight notes is
actually a visual illustration of a ‘good’ minim – subdominant harmony with dissonance in the
alto – and a ‘bad’ minim – resolution within the same subdominant harmony.
298. Each dotted quaver rest of the manuscript was replaced by a quaver rest and semiquaver rest in the print.
version – in my opinion an irresponsible intervention.299 Whether or not this nota-

tional difference should have an influence on the performance is not to be judged by
the editor but by the player!
Like Contrapunctus 1, Contrapunctus 2 contains two instances which demonstrate
that Bach approved of ‘near-consecutive’ fifths and octaves when another chord fac-
tor separates them – in the case of the latter Contrapunctus twice via a descending
third – and when one of them is durchgehend (see the fifths between the bass and tenor
in bar 14, and the octaves between the bass and alto in bars 75‑76).
Since the 9 of a 9‑8 suspension in the bass sounding simultaneously with the root
in an upper voice was even more generally accepted than the above voice-leading,
and Bach wrote this very progression on several occasions in the Art of Fugue (see
example 57 in chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’), one might be surprised by his refusal
to write it on the downbeat of bar 16 of Contrapunctus 2. Yet I believe that Bach decided
in this particular instance on a quaver rest and a semiquaver rest for contrapuntal
reasons. Hence the three-note figure introduced by a quaver rest and a semiquaver
rest in the tenor of bar 15b is given imitative sense.
Bach organized the decoratio of the first episode – a sequential pattern of three
two-bar segments – in such a way that it clarifies and reinforces its underlying struc-
ture. While he could have decided on regular four-note dotted rhythms in the tenor
of bar 17a and the alto of bar 19a, choosing opening crotchets instead emphasizes
more the beginning of the first two segments. Moreover, a highly contrasted decoratio
makes the third two-bar segment work as an effective paronomasia. In fact, since the
contrapuntal fabric using the tail of the subject inversus and rectus abruptly stops on
the downbeat of bar 21, it almost looks like an improvised one-voiced cadenza over a
pedal point, making this segment a powerful moment in this fugue.
At first sight bar 23 seems to start a new section within the first episode – the alto
presents the subject’s tail inversus which is imitated by tenor and bass. Nevertheless,
from the following bar on it becomes clear that this is not a new episodic fragment
but the start of a group of thematic statements, which turns out to be a counter-
exposition – in fact the dotted rhythm in the alto replaces only the first note of the
first entry of this thematic passage. Whereas the harmonic context seems to sug-
gest otherwise, this rather unusual kind of subject modification, which works as a
paronomasia, was arguably not a technical necessity but an intentional compositional
299. As far as I know, only Hofmann respects the print’s notation, except for the penultimate bar, where
he has replaced the eight-note beam by two four-note beams.
choice. After all, the alto entry could have started with a minim on the downbeat of
bar 23, provided that it was an e1 instead of a d1, resulting in an ascending opening
fourth instead of fifth:
& b C Ï™ Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï#Ï ™ Ï nÏ ™nÏ Ï Ï Ï™ ÏÏ ™ Ï

21 22 23
úÏ™ Ï# Ï ™n Ï # Ïú Î
™
#Ï #Ï Î î · #Ï r
?bC Ï Î î î #úú Ï Î ä Å Ï nÏ ™ # Ï
{ w ú Ï Î î
Example 1: Contrapunctus 2, bars 21-23, alternative version.
Despite this decision, which was probably meant to avoid too clear-cut a separation
between the first episode and the following thematic passage, the decoratio on this
join does render the downbeat of bar 23 somewhat noticeable. Instead of writing
minims for the voices constituting the dominant chord of D minor, which would
have been the first choice as a consequence of the rhythm of the three lower voices
in bar 22b, Bach decided on only crotchets, a rhythmic disposition working in the
context of this half-cadence as an apocope.
To give this counter-exposition structural sense, Bach introduced two features
which break the regularity of the four-bar phrases of the opening exposition. Firstly,
he added two kinds of stretto to the setting: the second, soprano entry – a comes –
does not enter four but three bars after the alto entry (bar 26),300 and one bar later
the bass also presents a comes, albeit only its head. Secondly, for the first time in
the Art of Fugue, intra-thematic transitions occur (bar 30 and bars 35‑37), even when
they are harmonically dispensable. Examples 2a and 2b actually illustrate how both
intra-thematic transitions, provided that some small adaptations are made, could
have been omitted:
300. To be able to realize this stretto, Bach had to make an interval mutation of the alto’s tail.
& b C úÏ Ï™ Ï Ï™y Ï ú Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ #Ï
29 31
Ï #Ï Ï z Ï™ ú
r
? b C ä Å Ï #Ï ™ Ï Ï Ï Ïú Î îú
{ Ï Î î
& b úÏ Ï™ Ï Ï™ y Ï ÏÏ™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ #Ï
29 31
Ï #Ï Ï Ï ú
Ï Î îú
? b ä Å Ïr #Ï ™ Ï Ï Ï ú
{ Ï Î î
& b úÏ Ï™ Ï Ï™ y Ï ÏÏ™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ #Ï
29 31
Ï #Ï Ï Ï ú
r Î îú
? b ä Å Ï #Ï ™ Ï Ï nÏ Ïú
{ Ï Î î
Example 2a: Contrapunctus 2, bars ’29 & 31’, alternative versions.
r
ä Å Ï #Ï™
Ï Ï Ï nÏ 38 Ï™ Ï Ï ÏÏ™™ Ï Ï™ ÏÏ Ï™ Ï
nÏ # Ï
34
b
& Ï C Ï Ï™ Ï ™ Ï
Î î Ï ú
? b C Ïú Ï ™ Ï ™ Ï úÏ
{ Î î
Example 2b: Contrapunctus 2, bars ’34 & 38’, alternative version.
Moreover, Bach also made their presence count by imitatively treating in stretto
the soprano motif introduced in bar 30, consisting of a subject’s tail preceded by a
crotchet suspension, in bars 34b‑37.
The end of the counter-exposition underwent several alterations, the most obvi-
ous one being the addition of a bass line to bars 40‑42a in the print. Besides the
fact that this intervention ends a very long period of inactivity in the bass, it also
eliminates the originally harsh voice-leading g©/a1‑a/g©1 between the tenor and alto in
manuscript bar 20b (see example 3; compare with print bar 40).
& b C nÏ ™ Ï Ï ™ ·Ï#Ï ™#Ï Ï ™#Ï

20b
? C #ú Ï nÏ
{ b ·
Example 3: ‘Contrapunctus 2’, manuscript bar 20b.
Furthermore, in the print Bach improved the distribution of suspensions between

the alto and soprano in bars 38‑39a by adding a 9‑8 suspension in the soprano in
the middle of bar 38, omitting there the 4‑3 suspension in the alto of the manuscript
(see example 4), and changed in bar 42a c1 into f1 in the alto and bª1 into b¨1 in the
soprano, rendering the modulation to F major more supple than in the manuscript
(see example 5).
Ï Ï Ï™ ÏÏ ÏÏ™ Ï™ ÏÏ Ï™ Ï
Ï™ ÏÏ Ï™
& b C Ï™ Ï™ #ÏÏ ÏÏ ™™ Ï Ï™
Ï ™ Ï Ï™
19b 38
Ï Ï™ Ï ™ Ï
ú ú
?bC ú ú
{ · ·
Example 4: ‘Contrapunctus 2’, manuscript bar 19b; Contrapunctus 2, bar 38.
& b C ÏÏ Ï nÏ ™ ÏbúÏ Ï Ï ™ ÏbÏ ™ Ï ú Ï

21b 42
Ï Ï Ï
™
Ï
? Cú Ï™ Ï Ï™ Ï ú Ï™ Ï Ï™ Ï
{ b · î
Example 5: ‘Contrapunctus 2’, manuscript bar 21b; Contrapunctus 2, bar 42.
One of the most powerful instances in this piece of how the decoratio generates struc-
ture can be observed in the final bar of the episode following the counter-exposition,
bar 44 representing an anabasis, most distinctively illustrated in the upper voice. In
barely one bar the soprano goes up diatonically from f1 to f2, giving a prominent start
in the next following bar to a new group of thematic statements with the dux high in
the soprano in the new key of F major.301
Although Bach decided on using regular four-bar phrases again for this thematic
passage – which is actually the third exposition of Contrapunctus 2, he gave it structural
sense through four new features, of which the last two emphasize, with regard to the
overall form, the increasing complexity. Firstly, only three instead of four complete
thematic statements occur. Secondly, instead of the regular alternation between the
dux and comes, all the subjects are duces. Thirdly, Bach presented for the first time in
the piece an (incomplete) triple stretto. A suggestion of a fourth and fifth entry, both
breaking off after two minims, enter two and three bars, respectively, after the start
of the third (complete) thematic statement (alto bar 55, dux inversus; soprano bar 56,
comes rectus). Finally, instead of the regular alternation between subjects in the tonic
and dominant key, the tonal plan of this exposition is quite peculiar, the succession
of keys for the three dux forms being F major, G minor and B flat major. This unusual
choice of keys, combined with the regularity of the entries, yields three subject adap-
tations, which, for that matter, add to the expressiveness of the musical discourse
as well. Firstly, on the downbeat of bar 49 the last note of the dux in the soprano
and the first note of the dux in the alto had to be modified from what would have
been a regular f2 and g1 into f©2 and a1, respectively, to connect F major with G minor
properly, deviations resulting in a strong third-inversion diminished seventh chord
in G minor and therefore making the alto’s entry work as a pathopoeia. Secondly,
like the first note of the dux in the alto on the downbeat of bar 49, the first note of
this exposition’s last dux had to be written a second higher as well compared to its
standard version, in order to smooth the transition to B flat major. Yet instead of
being merely a compositional-technical necessity, this c in the bass on the downbeat
of bar 53 actually counterbalances nicely the impact the downbeat of bar 49 had by
modestly gliding out of a tied note in a setting whose tessitura is considerably lower
and whose harmony is more straightforward than in the alto entry.
During the second entry of this group of thematic statements Bach integrated a
three-fold imitation based on a fragment of the ‘disguised’ counter-subject, a motif
characterized by two neighbouring subject tails. While this ‘double motif’ occurs
in the tenor in bar 49 and in the bass in bar 51 in its original form, the soprano
in bar 50 presents it with an altered first note, arguably somewhat weakening this
motif. After all, contrary to the tenor, where the second semiquaver repeats the
301. All eight subject entries until now have been alternating in D minor or A minor.
(strong) suspension, the soprano leaps down from the suspension to the (weak)
fifth of the chord before resolving. Yet surely d2 was the better choice with regard to
voice-leading. If Bach had written an a2 instead of the d2, this would have resulted in
a simultaneously repeated dissonant A between soprano (repetition of the suspen-
sion) and tenor (passing note) against the b¨1 in the alto.302
In the alto in bar 73a Bach did not repeat the suspension on the downbeat as the
first note of this double subject tail motif either, a voice-leading which here would
have caused a descending direct octave between the bass and alto.303 (As example 6
illustrates, a minim f in the bass instead of the two crotchets f‑d would have permit-
ted him to write an e2 in the alto as the opening note of the double motif, but would
perhaps have resulted in rhythmically too uniform a setting in the lower voices.
Ï™ Ï #Ï ™ Ï Ï™ #Ï nÏÏ 73 ÏÏ™ Ï ú Ï™ Ï
Ï Ï Ï
™ Ï Ï ™ Ï #Ïú
72 74
b
& ú C Î
™ Ï úÏ Ï Ï™ Ï
™
™Ï ™
? b C úÏ Ï Ïú # Ï nÏ úú búú Ï™
Ï Ï ÏÏ ™
#
Ï ÏÏ ™ Ï Ï ™ #Ï
{ Ï
Moreover, the choice of two crotchets in the bass in bar 73a adds, as a secondary
advantage, another imitation to the texture. The soprano in bar 74 adds the bass’s
material of bar 73 inversus to the texture.304)
The third, modulating, exposition is followed by a four-bar episode (bars 57‑60)
which convincingly reinstates the initial key of D minor, the decoratio of bars 59‑60
moreover rendering this passage structurally the most significant of the piece. Both
bars open with an ascending sixth in the upper voice, creating a short but expres-
sive ascending gradatio in which each of the two segments start with a hyperbaton.
Further, the first sixth reveals a contrapuntal liberty, in this case obviously meant to
302. It should be mentioned, though, that Bach did not always disapprove of identical non-harmonic
notes sounding simultaneously. For examples of doubled (and even tripled) non-harmonic notes,
see my discussion of bars 47‑51 in chapter 2.4 ‘On Contrapunctus 4’.
303. For more detailed information, see chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’.
304. For harmonic reasons, the ascending fourth d‑g could not be inverted as such but had to be
transformed into a descending fifth e2‑a1.
add to the importance of the moment. Instead of correctly resolving the suspension
a1 to the g1 in the same voice, its resolution has been shifted to the alto.305
With the next episode Bach further tightened the dispositio. While bar 64 contains
the final bar of the subject in the bass, it is also the start of a sequential pattern built
mainly on the subject’s tail inversus and rectus:
Ï Ï™ Ï ú Ï™ Ï Ï Ï ú
ÏÏ Ï #Ï ú™
Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ÏÏ
Ï z Ï #Ï Ïú
64 65 66 67
& b C Ï™ Î î ä Å Ï Ï™
Ï
ä Å r Ï
? b C úú Ïî ™ Ï Ï ™ Ï ú Ï nÏ ™# Ï Ï ™bÏ#ÏÏ ™nÏ bÏú Î îÏ Ï Ï Ï
·
Ï™#Ï Ï™ Ï Ï™nÏ
{ ™ ™ Ï Ï™
One possible way of transferring this overlap into performance is by playing the first
and third bars of the sequential pattern (bars 64 and 66) as ‘bad’ bars, and the second
and fourth bars (bars 65 and 67) as ‘good’ bars. This interpretation actually seems to be
confirmed by the presence of the suspensions on the downbeats of bars 65 (soprano)
and 67 (alto), and the lack of them in any voice on the downbeats of bars 64 and 66.
Two more textual issues need consideration. Firstly, in the manuscript Bach
avoided what would have been in the context the obvious suspension in the soprano
on the downbeat of manuscript bar 39, probably due to what would otherwise have
been a simultaneously sounding resolution in the tenor (see example 8a). On the
downbeat of print bar 77, however, he did write this rather harsh suspension, in this
instance apparently preferring the melodic consistency in the soprano to the ‘cor-
rectness’ of the voice-leading (see example 8b).
38b 39
& b C Ï ™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ Ï
ú™ n Ï #ú #ú
? C #ú ú ú ú
{ b w w
Example 8a: ‘Contrapunctus 2’, manuscript bar 38b-39a.
305. This transferred resolution is not unique in Bach’s works. For more detailed information, see again
chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’.
76 77
& b C Ï ™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ™ Ï Ï ™ Ï
ú™ n Ï #ú #ú
? b C #ú ú úw ú
{ w
Example 8b: Contrapunctus 2, bars 76-77.
Secondly, it could be wondered whether Bach did not forget to tie the two As in the
tenor in bar 78b‑79a, as he did in the alto of bar 60b‑61a. Yet I believe that he inten-
tionally avoided a tie in the tenor in bar 78b‑79a in order to ensure the rhythmic
impetus of the final thematic statement, emphasized by a more vertical, chordal set-
ting. As for the tie in the alto in bar 60b‑61a, it seems to be a consequence of the fact
that ties also occur there in bars 58b‑59a and 59b‑60a, each subsequent instance
rising a second.306
Like Contrapunctus 1, Contrapunctus 2 was shorter in the manuscript, ending on an
up-in-the-air dominant chord in manuscript bar 39b, that is on the downbeat of what
became bar 78 in the print, the syncopated thematic statement being the last one of
the piece. Due to the addition, however, of a final D minor dux in its original form
without syncopations in the soprano in bars 79‑84 and of a tonic end, Contrapunctus 2
has a more emphatic conclusion in the print.
With regard to performance, Contrapunctus 2 demands careful consideration. Apart

from the textual issues, the keyboard player also has to decide on the sharpness of
the dotted rhythms and on the positioning of the slurs, two additions to the print
strongly influencing the general style and character of the piece. While the slurs sug-
gest a generally mild, flowing interpretation of the dotted rhythms, it seems unlikely
to have them systematically over four notes. I would rather argue that the Baroque
principle of slurring conjunct notes and of articulating disjunct notes offers the most
valid method to judge the sloppy notation of the slurs.
306. Like in the tenor in bar 79, Bach could have opted to write a minim instead of a crotchet a1 on
the downbeat of bar 61. Yet the crotchet is without doubt the better choice, not only because the
preparation of the tied note was a crotchet, but especially because it follows the melodic logic of
the alto line, the tied notes and suspension on each downbeat of bars 59‑61 not being longer than
a crotchet.
3.
On Contrapunctus 3
I n Contrapunctus 3 Bach introduced several new features with regard to both the
Art of Fugue subject and the general concept. Firstly, he exclusively used the Art
of Fugue subject inversus, which occurs in its regular form as well as in a dotted form
including passing notes, with or without syncopations. Secondly, Contrapunctus 3 is
the first piece in the Art of Fugue with a regular, conventional counter-subject, which,
in this specific case, has an additional quality in that it also accompanies the sub-
ject’s transformations.307 Thirdly, this fugue differs from the previous pieces with its
overall chromaticism and tonal instability, and by abrupt textural changes between
the episodes and thematic passages.
This analysis includes a careful reading of Bach’s corrections or modifications of
the decoratio in preparation for the print. Firstly, he revised several chromatic altera-
tions, all of which result in more coherent harmonic progressions. Secondly, some
small motivic modifications occur, some of which improve the harmonic context as
well, while others refine the contrapuntal setting. In addition, specific voice-leading
issues and compositional decisions, which were apparently second-choice, will also
be discussed.
Bach decided on a rather peculiar start of this fugue, not opening with a dux but with a
comes form of the subject inversus. While this comes beginning to a fugue is not a unique
case, the shift from D minor in bar 1 to A minor in bar 2 (expressed by the cª1) back to
D minor in bar 4 (with its c©1) renders the initial subject of this Contrapunctus tonally less
stable than the dux rectus commencing the first two Contrapuncti did or than a dux inversus
307. The invertibility of the syncopated subject and the counter-subject causes one voice-leading
problem, though, requiring a modification of the latter (see below).
would have done.308 In order to respect this new, surprising harmonic context, I would
suggest, in contrast to the opening of the first two Contrapuncti, slurring the minims of
bars 1‑2 two by two (or at least apply an articulation favouring this pairing).
The harmonic instability of the opening subject, which could at first sight be
interpreted as somewhat troublesome, was in fact successfully exploited to the
maximum, resulting in a highly compelling piece. Apart from consciously adding
chromaticism and syncopation to the entire Contrapunctus, the counter-subject also
upholds and even highlights the tonal undecidability. Against the subject’s tonic
triad in bars 5‑6, for instance, the counter-subject twice produces a cª1 and once
a g© before it eventually establishes D minor unambiguously due to the c©1 on the
last crotchet of bar 6. While in most cases chromatic notes require slurring, I pre-
fer to articulate before this c©1 not only because of its harmonic importance but also
because it becomes a syncopation.
Standard fugal procedure requires that, during the opening exposition, the
counter-subject occurs in the same voice as the preceding subject. When no rest is
inserted to separate both, this mostly results in an articulated join or even in an over-
lap between the subject and counter-subject.309 Occasionally, though, as is the case
in Contrapunctus 3, the particular opening of the counter-subject without introductory
rest naturally yields a separation with the preceding subject. After all, the crotchet d1
in the tenor in bar 5, the last note of the subject, is followed by a syncopated minim
c1, the latter obviously requiring emphasis mainly through articulation.
Contrary to the intra-thematic transitions in the second exposition of
Contrapunctus 2, the one in the opening exposition of Contrapunctus 3 is indispensable
in order to allow a correct harmonization of the first note of the bass subject, that is
308. I believe, as did Rivera, that the motivation for this unusual opening must have been specifically
linked with the concept of the manuscript version of the Art of Fugue. Contrary to the print
of BWV 1080, the early version opens with a group of only three ‘simple’ fugues – the later
Contrapuncti 1‑3 – followed by the later Contrapunctus 5, which is a counter-fugue and a stretto-fugue,
and functions as a conclusion to this group. Besides the obvious difference in complexity between
the group of ‘simple’ fugues and the counter-fugue, it would appear that in the manuscript Bach
also foresaw a more straightforward feature to distinguish the latter from the former. Whereas
all three ‘simple’ fugues have a D as the first note – two of them starting with a dux rectus, the later
Contrapunctus 3 with a comes inversus – the counter-fugue opens with a dux inversus, thus starting on
an A. In the print, however, this differentiating characteristic is lost since the newly composed
Contrapunctus 4 – a second ‘simple’ fugue with conventional counter-subject – starts with a dux
inversus as well. See also Rivera, 1978: 362.
309. In Contrapunctus 4, for instance, the last subject note a1 in bar 5a also functions as the initial note of
the counter-subject.
as the root of a dominant chord.310 This bridge passage, however, also has a purely
musical value; it breaks the intensity of the opening twelve bars by (temporarily)
abandoning chromaticism. Hence I would perform bars 13‑14 rather mildly, devoid
of too much accentuation and articulation.
At the moment the bass presents the subject, that is bar 15, Bach resumed the
stirring discourse. Firstly, he introduced a suspension (in the soprano) above the first
subject note. Secondly, compared to the first bar of the two previous subject entries,
he even expanded the use of chromaticism. It not only occurs in the counter-subject
in the soprano, now preceded by an extra chromatic note (c©2),311 but also in the alto’s
counterpoint, rhythmically complementing the soprano in the middle of the bar.
As with the ‘near-consecutive’ fifths of bar 14 of Contrapunctus 2, those between the
tenor and alto at an interval of a third in bar 10 of Contrapunctus 3 did not disturb Bach
apparently as long as at least the third of the chord containing the first fifth occurs in
between them and one of the fifths is durchgehend. Nevertheless, these fifths being ascend-
ing and, therefore, arguably somewhat more noticeable than those in Contrapunctus 2,
I would argue that it is imperative to avoid any kind of accent on the second, ‘bad’ minim
of bar 10, which can be appropriately realized by hardly articulating before the g1.
Bach clearly had trouble deciding which chord he preferred on the fourth crotchet
of manuscript bar 6, that is the last crotchet of the later print bar 11. While his initial
310. As example 1 illustrates, a version without an intra-thematic passage is not feasible. Firstly, it
would produce a weak, monotonous harmonization because the opening note of the subject had to
be treated as the fifth of a tonic chord instead of the root of a dominant chord. Secondly, and more
importantly, it would result in a voice crossing of a subject’s head, which is unacceptable during an
opening exposition.
& b C z#úÏ Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏnÏÏ Ï ÏÏ núÏ Ï ÏnÏÏ bÏ Ïú #Ï Ï nÏ ÏÏ Ïn#ÏÏ Ï

12 16 17
Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ïú
? b C Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏúÏ Ï Ï Ïú ú Î
{ ·
& b z#úÏ Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ ÏnúÏ Ï ÏnÏÏ bÏ úÏ #Ï Ï nÏ ÏÏ Ïn#ÏÏ Ï

12 16 17
Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ïú
? b Ï Ï Ï Ï úÏ ™ Ïj Ïú ú Î
Example 1:
{ Contrapunctus 3, bars ’12 & 16-17’, alternative versions.
311. This second quaver c©2 in the soprano also ensures the continuous quaver movement from the last
crotchet of bar 9 until the end of the piece.
choice in the manuscript was most likely a diminished triad on g©, as in the print, the
supposed sharp in the tenor and natural in the alto were erased in a second stage,
resulting in a G minor chord and in a more expressive suspension in the alto in the
middle of manuscript bar 6 (minor ninth b¨1/a; see example 2).
ú Ï
& b C #Ï ÏnÏ Ï bÏÏ #úÏ Ï Ïz Ï ÏÏ ÏnÏÏ Ï
6
? b C nÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï#Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ z Ï Ï
{
Example 2: ‘Contrapunctus 3’, manuscript bar 6.
Ú
In fact, only this hypothesis can explain the presence of a natural sign before the tenth
note of the tenor g in manuscript bar 6, an accidental which becomes redundant due
to the seventh note’s modification from g© to g(ª) and which Bach forgot, or did not
bother, to omit. When preparing the print, Bach decided to undo this modification,
probably for harmonic reasons. After all, in the second version, that is the final manu-
script version, the A minor chord in second inversion on the second minim of manu-
script bar 6 is preceded by a first inversion of a dominant diminished seventh chord yet
followed by a G minor triad – a rather harsh chord succession. In the first and in the
definitive versions, on the other hand, Bach opted for a more logical harmonic pro-
gression by writing another dominant chord of A minor to follow the six-four chord.
The second half of manuscript bar 8, that is print bar 16, also underwent several
revisions, the manuscript containing evidence of two versions, the print in its turn
presenting yet another variant. In the first version, the middle of manuscript bar 8
most probably was a crotchet d1 followed by a dotted crotchet f1 (see example 3).312
& b C ÏÏ™#Ï nú Ï #Ï ÏnnÏÏ bÏ Ï #Ï ÏÏ™nÏ Ï Ïn#ÏÏ Ï

8
J Ï
ú ú Ï Ï nÏ Ïú
?bC ú ú ú Î
{
312. Hofmann suggests that the initial alto note in the middle of manuscript bar 8 was an f1, regarding
d1 as doubtful. This seems improbable to me, however, since the stem of this doubtful note is
considerably lower and longer than that of the following f1. He further states that this note was
originally a minim, a note value which seems to be rhythmically incompatible with the three
quavers beamed together at the end of the bar. See Hofmann KB, 1996: 27.
In the next stage Bach altered the crotchet d1 into a crotchet f1 which was tied to the
former f1. Finally, this line underwent another change in the print: the downbeat of
bar 16 became a minim f1, now tied to the preceding crotchet and the following qua-
ver. This version, only containing a long f1 (too long perhaps), does not really seem,
at first sight, to improve the manuscript variants. Bach perhaps preferred the slightly
lesser melodic quality of the alto to the redundant restriking of the f1, which is also
present an octave lower in the bass as the third note of the subject.
On the last minim of the same manuscript bar the tenor underwent an appar-
ently redundant correction. Notwithstanding that the tenor and bass have unison
a, Bach changed the tenor’s original minim into a crotchet followed by a crotchet
rest, though obviously maintaining the bass’s minim, it being the fourth note of the
subject. Since this rhythmically different unison clearly has no audible significance
on a keyboard instrument, the modification can only by explained, in my opinion, by
Bach’s persistent concern about striving for as distinctive polyphonic lines as possi-
ble.313 Probably for the same reason, though not involved in a unison with any voice,
the tenor’s minim a in the middle of manuscript bar 9 was also changed by Bach into
a crotchet followed by a crotchet rest in print bar 18a.
One might wonder why Bach, when doing this revision, did not opt for a version
with a tenor line continuing over the bar line (see example 4), as he did in bars 52b‑53.
Ï Ï Ï
& b C Ïú #Ï Ï nÏ ÏÏ Ïn#ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï ú
16 17
Ï Ï nÏ Ïú Ï Ï Ïú Ï Ï nÏ # Ï Ï
Ï Ï
?bC ú
{
The reason for deciding on rests in bar 16b‑17a is most probably a technical per-
formance issue; the continuing tenor line would have resulted in clumsily repeated
quaver f1s and e1s between tenor and alto. In bar 52b-53a, on the other hand, this
voice-leading does not cause a problem thanks to an octave distance between alto
and tenor.
313. Similar coincidences of rhythmically different unisons between two voices appear, for instance,
in three fugues from WTC 1. See bar 11 of Fugue 1 in C major BWV 846/2, bar 38 of Fugue 4 in
C sharp minor BWV 849/2 and bar 3 of Fugue 12 in F minor BWV 857/2. See also Leonhardt, 1952:
10-11.
Bach not only varied the introduction of the third counter-subject of the exposi-
tion, but also its continuation in bar 18b. He actually could have repeated the version
of bar 8b literally, which would contain four quavers d2-c©2-d2-e2. Example 5 shows
that these quavers fit perfectly within the texture, and would have resulted in an
interesting climax nicely rounding off the exposition, helped by the soprano imitat-
ing the alto’s motif.
Ï Ï
& b C Ï Ï nÏÏ #ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ bÏ #ÏÏ
18 19
#Ï
Î îÏ Î
? b C Ïú Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
{
Example 5: Contrapunctus 3, bars 18-19a, alternative version.
Yet Bach decided against it, writing instead a dotted crotchet d2 followed by a qua-
ver e2, probably from melodic and textural considerations. Whereas the tenor on the
downbeat of bar 9 has an f1, the consequence of two consecutive ascending suspirans
figures in bars 8‑9a, the soprano on the downbeat of bar 19 produces a c©2, so that the
presence of the four quavers d2-c©2-d2-e2 in bar 18b would arguably have resulted in
rather too monotonous a line. Moreover, thanks to the dotted crotchet d2, the setting
in bar 18 is well balanced; both halves of the bar contain two voices with quavers and
one voice with a longer note.
At the very end of the exposition, the manuscript contains a halt in the rhythmic
motion; all voices on the downbeat of manuscript bar 10 have a crotchet. Yet as we
have already seen with regard to the construction of the previous Contrapuncti, Bach
often preferred to avoid too obvious a separation of thematic and non-thematic pas-
sages, which in this case probably explains the addition of the descending quaver
octave a‑A to the bass on the downbeat of print bar 19.
A three-part episode in the form of a straightforward sequential pattern follows
the exposition. The two upper voices are written in invertible counterpoint and inter-
change their motifs in each succeeding bar above an independent chromatic bass
motif.314 Yet due to a tonal twist right at its end, Bach broke with the harmonic regu-
314. This is a common technique especially in the fugues of WTC 2. See the episodes of the fugues
in C major BWV 870/2, E flat major BWV 876/2, E minor BWV 879/2, F sharp major BWV 882/2,
G sharp minor BWV 887/2, B flat minor BWV 891/2 and B minor BWV 893/2.
larity of this non-thematic passage, creating a noticeable start to the following group
of thematic statements. Notwithstanding that the downbeat of bar 23 functions as
the dominant chord of B flat minor, a consequence of the circle of fifths,315 Bach
avoided this key, which is too remote, and instead modulated abruptly by introducing
a D minor syncopated, dotted version of the subject with passing notes starting on the
second crotchet of bar 23. Nevertheless, one could argue that, in spite of the unusual-
ness of the progression in bar 23a, the combination of this new subject form with
the original counter-subject resembles yet another segment of the sequential pattern,
thus somewhat overshadowing the start of this thematic passage. On the other hand,
the fact that the sixth in the upper voices on the second crotchet of bar 23 is written a
fifth higher than it would have been had the sequential pattern been followed, does
ensure the necessary structural impact of the syncopated, dotted form of the subject.
A subtle improvement to the bass in the same bar also helps to clarify the dis-
positio, though in a more modest way. As mentioned above, the bass repeats, dur-
ing the sequential pattern of bars 19‑23a, the same motif in each succeeding bar.
Specifically, to obtain a melodically well balanced bass part, Bach had each succeed-
ing motif starting alternatively a fourth higher and a fifth lower. Whereas this pat-
tern is continued in manuscript bar 12, where an abridged, three-note form of this
bass motif opens with an F, Bach wrote it an octave higher in print bar 23, breaking
the regularity of the sequence and working like a hyperbaton.316
The first thematic passage after the opening exposition is, like that in
Contrapunctus 2, a counter-exposition. The presence of another exposition is here
given structural sense thanks to four irregular features, the last three of which are
identical to those Bach applied to give the third exposition of Contrapunctus 2 structural
315. The following example illustrates how bar 23 would have been in conformity with the sequential
j
pattern:
& b C Ï Ï bÏú Ï ™ z Ï bÏÏ

23
Ï
?bC Ï ·
{ Ï ä ÏJ bÏ Ï nÏz Ï
Example 6: Contrapunctus 3, bar 23, alternative version.
316. As a consequence of this octave transposition, the last note of bar 23 and the first five notes of
bar 24 in the bass, in their turn, are written an octave lower in the print than in the manuscript, the
initial line being found again on the sixth note of bar 24 via an octave displacement (A-b¨).
sense. Firstly, Bach only used the syncopated, dotted subject form. Secondly, all the
subjects are duces. Thirdly, only three instead of four subject entries occur. Finally,
Bach did not respect the standard alternation between the tonic and dominant key
for an exposition’s thematic statements, in this instance the key of the third entry not
being the expected D minor but F major.317
Whereas the combination of the counter-subject and the regular subject does
not upset the regularity of the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ minims, the combination of the
counter-subject and the syncopated subject actually does cause metric irregularities.
Compare, for instance, bar 6b‑7a with 24b‑25a where, in both cases, the counter-
subject yields an anticipated dominant harmony via a syncopated C©. On the one
hand, in bar 6b‑7a, this tied C© does not affect, in my opinion, the Quantitas Intrinseca
of the fifth note of the regular subject on the downbeat of bar 7, its setting of a dimin-
ished seventh c©1/b¨1 representing a ‘better’ chord than the minor sixth does on the
last crotchet of bar 6. On the other hand, when the counter-subject joins with the
syncopated subject the regular metric hierarchy is indeed broken at the analogous
spot due to an altered chord distribution. Since the chords on the first and second
beats of bar 25 merely prolong the same chords, which have been introduced on the
preceding crotchets, these beats do not function as ‘good’ and ‘semi-good’ minims,
respectively.318 This syncopated harmonization rather implies the extrinsically ‘bad’
crotchets of bar 24b‑25a both to be performed ‘well’, the second arguably with more
emphasis because it includes the structurally ‘better’ subject note.
For the print, Bach made a small, at first sight even a redundant, modification
to the counter-subject in the middle of bar 25, changing the initial crotchet f2 into
two quavers f2-d2. After all, this later variant cannot be explained as being due to
harmony or voice-leading, nor does it correct, as was the case on the downbeat of
bar 19, a halt in the rhythmic motion – the manuscript version was without prob-
lems, already ensuring a continuous quaver movement. This alteration even has
a downside; it slightly diminishes the harmonic richness, iv7 becoming merely iv.
I would argue that the only possible explanation for the insertion of the quaver d2 is
actually imitative consistency, resulting from a solution to a voice-leading problem
six bars later. As can be seen in bar 31b, the combination of the syncopated subject
and the counter-subject, when the former lies under the latter, would have caused
parallel fifths without the presence of the ‘extra’ quaver a1 in the alto. When revising
317. This is actually the only subject entry of the piece without a counter-subject.
318. I do not regard the accented passing note in the bass f strong enough to maintain the downbeat of
bar 25 as ‘good’.
this piece, Bach made both counter-subjects accompanying the syncopated, dotted
subject variant uniform by inserting this ‘extra’ quaver also in bar 25b.
The above described voice-leading yet again illustrates that ‘near-consecutive’
fifths or octaves did not disturb Bach as long as they are separated by a third and
one of them is durchgehend. In fact, notwithstanding that both fifths in bar 31b occur
only a crotchet apart, the issue of parallelism seems here to be eliminated in the first
place thanks to the presence of another chord in between them. Having said that,
an adequate performance is still required to avoid their audible comprehensibility.
I would suggest, therefore, slurring the c2 of the alto in the middle of bar 31, the
upper note of the first fifth, to the two previous quavers, making it as ‘bad’ as pos-
sible. The quaver a1 added to the counter-subject, on the other hand, requires to be
articulated, and somewhat emphasized, since it belongs to a new chord. Hence, the
following chord, falling on the last crotchet of the bar and containing the second
fifth, can be performed somewhat ‘better’ than the first.
During the intra-thematic transition between the first and second varied duces,
Bach made a modification possibly considering how the decoratio can contribute
to the clarification of the dispositio. By deciding on a literal instead of a varied bass
sequence in bars 27‑28 (for the manuscript version, see example 7), the episodic
character of these two bars separating two metrically intricate settings becomes
more evident.
Ï
? b C #Ï ™ Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï#Ï ä # ÏJ n Ï nÏ Ï #ú
14 15
Example 7: ‘Contrapunctus 3’, manuscript bars 14-15a (only bass).
As for the decoratio and the harmonic organization of the next episode (bars 39‑42),
they do indicate Bach’s preoccupation with an overall form expressing increasing
complexity. After all, Bach reused the setting and concept of the first episode yet aban-
doned the harmonic regularity and straightforwardness of its circle of fifths. In fact,
significant modulatory and textural adjustments had to be made in order to ensure
the modulation from F major to A minor – the application of the circle of fifths would
have brought the sequential pattern to A flat minor, which does not, however, allow
a similar harmonic tour de force as in bar 23a to arrive in A minor (see example 8).319
bÏ ·Ï™ · ··
39 40 41 42
&b C Ï ÏJ Ï bÏ Ïz Ï bÏ
Ï ú ÏJ
Ï b ú bÏ ™ Ï bÏ
j
? b C ÏÏ Ï ú Ï bÏ Ï nnÏÏ bÏÏ ÏÏz Ï
b Ï Ï™ Ï Ï ú z ÏnbÏÏ bÏÏz Ï b Ï bÏ ™ Ïj
Ï ä ÏJ bÏ Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï ä ÏJ bÏ Ï Ï
ä J n
{ b Ï ä ÏJ bÏ b Ï nÏ Ï
Firstly, Bach wrote the second half of both two-bar segments of the sequential pat-
tern – that is from the second crotchet of bar 40 to and including the first crotchet
of bar 41, and from the second crotchet of bar 42 to and including the first crotchet
of bar 43, respectively – a third higher compared to the analogous spots in the first
episode, adaptations establishing in bar 42b the convenient key of E minor to pre-
pare the A minor dux starting in the soprano on the downbeat of bar 43. Secondly,
due to these adaptations, the opening interval of the bass motif in bars 40‑41a and
42‑43a was changed from an ascending second into a descending fifth.320 Since the
second half of both segments works as a paronomasia, they seem therefore to func-
tion as the ‘better’ bar in relationship to the respective preceding bar, which can be
adequately translated into the performance by articulating well the ascending sixth
leaps in the alto and tenor before their beginning, and the descending fifth in the
bass one crotchet later.
The following thematic statement, starting on the downbeat of bar 43, is a sig-
nificant moment in the piece. The soprano re-enters after a rest of almost thirteen
bars with the original dux form of the subject, that is without syncopations or pass-
ing notes, in A minor, reinstalling moreover the four-voiced setting. Yet an explicit
contrast in texture does not only mark off this entry’s beginning but also its ending,
where, during the last subject bar, two voices fall out, coinciding with a remarkable
319. Note that Bach did not write in the alto an a¨1 on the second crotchet of bar 39 or a b¨1 on the second
crotchet of bar 41, which would have been the first choice to comply with the contrapuntal setting of
the first episode, but an e1 and, as a consequence of following the sequence, an f1, respectively, probably
to avoid the perception of an F minor tonic chord within the prevailing key of F major in bars 38‑40a.
320. An equally satisfactory adaptation would have been with an A and a Bª as third bass note in bars 40
and 42, respectively. Yet this version lacks the repeated note, the root of the chord, in between the
motifs – perhaps the reason why Bach decided on the descending fifths.
harmonization, which does not respect the four-bar structure of the subject. An
authentic cadence – the first one in the piece, as it happens – actually occurs ‘one bar
too early’, the first degree in A minor falling on the downbeat of the subject’s metri-
cally weaker fourth bar, that is bar 46 (see example 9).
ú ú ú ú Ï
Ï Ï úÏ Ï #Ï #Ï Ï nÏÏnnÏÏ #ÏÏ
Ï
ÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ
& b C Ï #Ï nú Ï Ï nÏ Ï
43 44 45 46
ú #Ï nÏ Ï #Ï Ï #Ï Ï #Ï
# Ïj Ï™ Ïj ÏÏ nÏ Ï Ï Ï™ j
Ïj Ï Ï nÏj Ïj Ï #Ïj Ï Î
? b C nÏ™ Ï
ÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ
Ï™ Ï Ï Ï Ï
J #Ï Ï Ï nÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï î
J Ï Î î
™
{ V i
in A minor
Ï
ÍÍÍÍ
& b ÏÏ#nÏÏnÏÏ Ï ÏÏ ÏnÏÏ Ï ÏÏnÏÏ ÏÏnÏÏ Ï ÏÏ ÏÏbÏÏ ÏÏ ÏbÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏbÏÏbÏÏ ú Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï
47 48 49 50 51
Ï Ï n Ï Ï Ï bÏ #ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï#Ï
ÏÏÏÏ bÏ Ï Ï Ï j
? b ä Ï Ï#Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï Ï ÏbÏ Ï bÏ Ï Ï Ï ÏúÏnÏ#Ï Ï ä bÏ
ÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ
{ · · ÏÏ · Ï Ï Ï
· ú
DD V DD V
in C major in B �at major
Additionally, by concluding both the tenor and bass lines with a crotchet instead of
a minim on the downbeat of that bar, a compositional feature which works as an
apocope, Bach made the impact of this unusually placed cadence even greater. In fact,
despite the presence of the last subject bar, this setting even favours bar 46 strongly
instead of 47 as the start of the following episode – a further confirmation of Bach’s
concern to achieve a gradual tightening of the dispositio, which is underlined by the
counterpoint as well. A new contrapuntal texture emerges in bar 46, the alto present-
ing an ascending suspirans in bar 46a, which is imitated in the soprano in bar 46b and
in the tenor in bar 47a (see again example 9).
This non-thematic passage, the final one of the piece, takes the contrapuntal
complexity yet a step further. For the first time in the piece, simultaneous suspirans
figures rectus and inversus in three voices occur, the denser texture giving this episode
more weight than the previous ones. On top of that, this episode introduces metric
alterations nicely complementing its importance. While bars 46 and 50 are regular
2/2 bars, the latter being an abridged segment of the sequential pattern starting in
bar 47, bars 47‑49 represent the first two 3/2 bar segments of this sequential pattern,
the first one in C major, the second in B flat major, each of which have as harmonic
rhythm minim V/V – semibreve V (see again example 9). It does not seem to me,
therefore, any more than logical to perform bars 47‑49 also as two 3/2 bars, each of
which contains a ‘good’ first beat and an ‘almost good’ second beat.
The preceding thematic statement and this episode underwent some minor
modifications for the print, all of which arguably contribute to a better final version
of Contrapunctus 3. Firstly, Bach added a sharp to the f in the bass in bar 44b which
seems to result in a tonally more coherent reading – the first half of that bar had left
A minor to touch upon E minor. Secondly, he put in a third suspension in the tenor
in bar 45 by advancing the c1 on the second crochet by one quaver, a variant further
adding, albeit modestly, to the unusualness of the following authentic cadence (see
above). Finally, although the manuscript version in itself satisfies, Bach did alter
three accidentals in bar 50a, modifications to the decoratio made, I believe, because
of a structural consideration (for the manuscript version, see example 10).321 By still
respecting the harmonic organization of the sequential pattern in print bar 50a,
basically the result of the elimination of the G minor dominant chord on the fourth
quaver of the third beat of manuscript bar 25, the emphasis which this spot had in
the manuscript version due to its irregular harmonization has been diminished. This
episode is therefore rounded off with a decrease in tension, leaving the emphasis
instead on the bass subject entry in bar 51 in the unannounced key of G minor.
& b C ÏÏ ÏÏ nÏÏ#nÏÏ úÏ
25b
nÏ Ï Ï
? b C Ï Ï Ï Ï bÏ Ï Ï Ï
{
Example 10: ‘Contrapunctus 3’, manuscript bar 25b.
·
This thematic statement is actually the first one of the third and final exposition of this
Contrapunctus, an exposition to which Bach gave stuctural sense, as a synthesis of the
321. The accidental before the tenth soprano note of manuscript bar 25, that is the fourth soprano note
of print bar 50, is unclear, causing disagreement amongst editors. Hofmann, for instance, claims
that Bach first wrote a flat but erased it afterwards (Hofmann KB, 1996: 27), whereas Moroney still
interprets the sign before that note as a flat (Moroney, 1989: 114). The harmonic context leaves no
doubt, however: this note should be read as aª1.
previous two, using both the plain and the dotted subject forms (albeit without syn-
copations). To enrich the musical discourse further, he also introduced three types of
stretto and imitation to this exposition. Firstly, being an afterthought, Bach replaced in
the bass the motifs consisting of a crotchet note followed by a quaver rest and the same
crotchet note on the second and third beats of manuscript bar 28 with minims in print
bars 55b and 56a respectively. Consequently an incomplete comes and a stretto per arsin
et thesin with the alto’s subject entry, which had started on the downbeat of bar 55, was
added to the texture (the bass of manuscript bar 28 is shown in example 11).
? b C Ï ä #Ï Ï ä Ï Ï ä Ï Ï Ï Ï
28
J J J
Secondly, instead of regularly entering four bars after the beginning of the alto’s
subject, the soprano’s subject interrupts the former by doing so after only three bars,
that is in bar 58. Thirdly, as a counterpoint to the first bar of the soprano’s thematic
statement, the bass imitates the alto’s third varied subject bar.322 In fact, Bach made
this last imitation somewhat more explicit by changing the motif consisting of a
crotchet note followed by a quaver rest and the same crotchet note on the downbeat
of manuscript bar 30, into a minim as well in print bar 59a.
Also this exposition was thoroughly revised by Bach in preparing the print, a pro-
cess partly illustrating once more Bach’s concern for an overall growth in complex-
ity. Firstly, while the alto initially had on the downbeat of manuscript bar 26 a motif
consisting of a crotchet e¨1 followed by a quaver rest and a quaver e¨1, it was changed in
print bar 51a into four quavers e¨1-d1-c1-e¨1. Besides arguably reducing the harshness of
the cross-relation of the manuscript variant,323 this new version yields a more active
322. Notwithstanding that the dotted subjects are presented without syncopations, a small reminiscence
of the syncopated form of the subject is made in the alto in bar 57b and in the soprano in bar 60b.
323. The harshness of this cross-relation in the manuscript is due to the successive occurrence of the
minor and major third of the C chord on the first crotchet in the alto and on the second crotchet in
the tenor, respectively, a voice-leading Bach usually avoided and which apparently disturbed him
when revising. By adding the quavers in the alto, however, a passing chord rather than merely a
passing note in the alto and tenor separates e¨1 and e(ª), the audible comprehensibility of this cross-
relation has been strongly reduced. Nevertheless, the initial voice-leading on the second beats of
manuscript bars 22 and 32, in which two chromatically different forms of one note within the same
chord in the bass and alto are separated by only a passing note, was not modified in print bars 43b
and 63b, from which I can only assume that Bach must have judged these cross-relations fitting to
beginning of this group of thematic statements as well, all three upper voices produc-
ing quavers.324 Secondly, the print contains two small modifications in the tenor in
bars 51b‑52, intended undoubtedly to make the line contrapuntally more compelling.
After all, by replacing what was in manuscript bar 26 the dot after the crotchet g (sec-
ond beat) by a quaver rest in print bar 51b, and by altering the quaver g (fourth beat)
into a quaver b¨ in print bar 52b, an ascending gradatio with paronomasia in the form of
a ‘one-voice stretto’, its third segment coming ‘too soon’, emerges (see example 12).
? b C Ï Ï nÏ #Ï Ï™ bÏ Ï ä Ïz Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
n Ï #Ï ä J Ï ä ÏJ Ï
b Ï
26 51 52
J J CÏÏ
Example 12: ‘Contrapunctus 3’, manuscript bar 26 (only tenor); Contrapunctus 2, bars 51-
52 (only tenor).
In addition to those modifications seemingly made for structural reasons, Bach
included two small corrections during this exposition as well, in order to improve
the harmonic context of the moment. Firstly, the tenor’s minim a in the middle of
manuscript bar 30, was changed in print bar 60a into a crotchet a and a crotchet rest,
most likely to avoid the unnecessary clash with the alto’s b¨1 on the second crotchet
of print bar 60. Secondly, the chromatic crotchets c©2-cª2 of the soprano on the down-
beat of manuscript bar 31 reveal a more significant afterthought added to the manu-
script and taken over in print bar 61; initially, a minim c(ª)2 tied to a quaver occurred
in the manuscript.325 Whereas the latter version respects the subject’s original note
values, Bach eventually decided against it, most probably because the sixth chord on
g© on the last crotchet of print bar 60, being preceded by ii6 in D minor, does not sat-
what was at that time a highly dissonant and chromatic context. On the other hand, when a cross-
relation, even directly, occurs in between two different chords, Bach displayed more tolerance, also
in the Art of Fugue. Again in bar 51a, for instance, the third quaver in the tenor e(ª) is immediately
followed by an e¨1 in the alto on the next quaver, the former being the third of a C major triad, the
latter the diminished seventh of the chord with the same name on F©. For additional information
on cross-relations, see chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’.
324. A similar correction occurs in print bar 55a, where Bach replaced in the bass the quaver rest in
between the crotchet d and quaver f© by a quaver e, resulting in a smoother contrapuntal and
harmonically richer setting accompanying the first subject note of the alto.
325. Klaus Hofmann suspects that this note was originally a dotted crotchet (Hofmann KB, 1996: 27).
Although there does indeed seem to remain a trace of a dot next to the note, this supposition makes
no sense rhythmically. After all, it would have implied a following quaver, which is not there. In
fact, I can only see this note, as does Moroney, being a minim c(ª)2 tied to the following quaver
originally (Moroney, 1989: 114).
isfy as a dominant chord of A minor. Rather it functions as V/V in D minor, implying,

therefore, a dominant chord in D minor – with c©2 – to succeed it. This c©2, however,
could not be held for its initial length of a minim tied to a quaver – the f©1 in the alto
on the second crotchet of bar 61 obliged Bach to alter the c©2 into cª2 in that instance.
In addition to the obvious harmonic improvement this modification brings about, it
actually adds further chromaticism to the piece, this unusual variant of the subject’s
fourth bar working as a paronomasia.
With regard to the final entry of this exposition and of the piece in bars 63‑67a,
Bach foresaw several elements in the realms of texture and decoratio, which contrib-
ute to its structural importance. Firstly, for the first time in this Contrapunctus a sub-
ject and its counter-subject occur in the two lower voices, a voice-leading providing
gravitas to this passage. Secondly, their opening bar displays a harmonically dense
setting with chromaticism in all three counterpoint voices, drawing particular atten-
tion to the start of the last thematic statement and its counter-subject.
As a powerful conclusion to the gradually intensifying complexity, Bach reserved
the metrically most complex passage of Contrapunctus 3 for its very end (see exam-
ple 13), bars 66‑71 containing both shifted 2/2 bars and 3/2 bars.
Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï 67 ú
ÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ
Ï Ï Ï Ï ú
& bC ú Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï úÏ bÏ Ï
66 68
ú #Ï ú Ï
ÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ
? b C úÏ Ï #Ï Ï úÏ nÏ Ï Ï Ï #Ï ú Ï #Ï Ï Ï
{ Ï nÏ #Ï ú Ï Ï Ï ú Ï Ï Ï Ï ú
U
& b Ï #ÏÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï #ÏÏ™Ï Ï ú j
69 70 71 72
Ï #Ï Ï n ÏJ ú Ï™
Ï Ï Ï # Ï úú Ïw Ï Ï Ï ú
u
U
? b Ïw Ï Ï ú úw Ï Ï Ï#Ï úw Ï Ï Ï Ï #Ï Ï Ï ú
{ Ï w
u
The first metric deviation occurs on the downbeat of bar 67, where the tied d is actu-
ally a prolongation of the resolution of the bass suspension and its D chord half a bar
earlier. Consequently, in spite of the presence of the last, metrically strong subject’s
note in the tenor, this harmonic organization does render bar 67a weaker than its
metric position implies. Yet the secondary dominant seventh chord of iv still makes
bar 67a into an ‘almost semi-good’ third beat of a 3/2 bar. (I deliberately speak of an
‘almost semi-good’ instead of simply a ‘semi-good’ third beat of a 3/2 bar because
this D major chord, albeit without the seventh, is already present on the last crotchet
of bar 66, hence somewhat lessening the metric quality of this dominant seventh
chord.) As already discussed in chapter 1.2 ‘On Metre’, this 3/2 bar is followed by
three metrically shifted 2/2 bars,326 after which, one more metric deviation occurs.
With regard to bars 70b‑71, they actually suggest a 3/2 bar merely consisting of a
G minor chord, starting with a ‘good’ minim suspension a and a ‘bad’ semibreve
resolution g in the tenor. (Only on the downbeat of the final bar of this Contrapunctus
the music respects again the regular 2/2 time signature. After all, the G minor chord,
having been a subdominant chord above a tonic pedal point in bars 70b‑71, changes
its function on the downbeat of bar 72, becoming instead a minim double suspen-
sion of the tonic chord followed by its minim resolution – an analysis confirmed by
the fact that one could actually play a D major chord on the downbeat of the last bar.)
Like the first two Contrapuncti, Bach extended Contrapunctus 3 with some bars in
the print, which in this case arguably results in a better balance between the length
of the pedal point in the final version and the length of the thematic statement pre-
ceeding it, both of which last four and half 2/2 bars. (The manuscript version of
Contrapunctus 3 ends with a semibreve D major chord in what would have been bar 70
in the print, its pedal point lasting only two and half 2/2 bars.)
With Contrapunctus 3 Bach delivered a piece quite different from the previous fugues.
Although yet again displaying an overall increased complexity, this Contrapunctus
presents, besides certain new features in the Art of Fugue subject, a regular counter-
subject, a more articulated dispositio and, most importantly, a dominating chromati-
cism. Since it basically remains the primary purpose of a chromatic line to ‘arouse
a passionate affection’,327 a piece like Contrapunctus 3 thus generally implies a highly
emotional and engaged musical discourse.
326. Note that on the third beat of manuscript bar 34, that is in what became in the print bar 68a, Bach
wrote two quavers g‑d followed by a tied crotchet g in the tenor. For the print, he simplified this into
a tied minim g probably to avoid the redundant repetition of the sixth B¨/g between the bass and
tenor on the first and second crotchets of the third beat in manuscript bar 34.
327. Bartel, 1997: 359.
4.
On Contrapunctus 4
C ontrapunctus 4 is the last fugue in the Art of Fugue which does not systematically
exhaust one specific contrapuntal technique or concept. Like the preceding
Contrapunctus it employs the subject inversus, starting, however, with an inverted dux.
This opening thematic statement actually involves, for the first time in the Art of
Fugue, a piece not beginning with an obvious D but with an A – a feature which, in a
complete performance, adds emphasis to the opening of Contrapunctus 4.
This fugue is substantially longer than the three previous pieces. It consists of
138 2/2 bars instead of the 78 bars of Contrapunctus 1, the 84 bars of Contrapunctus 2
and the 72 bars of Contrapunctus 3. Despite its considerable length, however, Bach
achieved a highly coherent form in this piece by gradually intensifying the setting,
especially in its thematic passages, whereby each subsequent one adds some kind
of enhancement to the subject, or to its contrapuntal or harmonic treatment. The
first thematic passage after the opening exposition displays an unusual tonal orga-
nization using only dux forms of the subject.328 The second one is entirely built on a
variation of the subject with a transposed second half, a version he already touched
upon in Contrapunctus 1. The third one presents a complex stretto. The fourth and last
thematic passage in its turn contains what is undoubtedly the most powerful har-
monic progression of the piece. Moreover, while Contrapunctus 4 is in general metri-
cally rather straightforward, the last group of thematic statements is introduced by
one of two passages which deviate metrically, the second one occurring on the join
between its two thematic statements.
328. Note that its fourth entry, starting in bar 39, is also a dux yet with a modified head, presenting a
descending fourth instead of a fifth.
Compared to the previous fugues Bach attached a greater value to the episodes in
this Contrapunctus, not only because of their considerable length but also because of
their distinctive organization. Besides the fact that he elaborated them by basically
using only the tail of the subject and a noticeable ‘cuckoo-like figure of a descend-
ing 3rd’,329 their real interest lies in their construction with multiple sections. The
two longest episodes of the piece additionally contain between them three authentic
cadences separating two of their subsections, harmonizations arguably adding fur-
ther to the prominence of these episodes.330
Like Contrapunctus 3 this fugue also has a conventional counter-subject, but in
much less of a systematic combination with the subject. Bach often used, as contra-
puntal material to the subject, only its most characteristic motif, a suspirans figure
consisting of two descending minor seconds with a peculiar harmonic flavour due
to the lowered second scale step.331
Notwithstanding that the text-critical side of this discussion of Contrapunctus 4 is
inevitably more limited than that of the previous Contrapuncti – this piece was an addi-
tion to the print – a number of textual issues still need further consideration. Firstly,
Contrapunctus 4 includes several notes with a length differing from what would be
anticipated. As will be shown, the reason for those deviations from standard practice
can be motivic, structural or a matter of playability. Secondly, the individual segments
of straightforward sequential patterns are not always transposed literally. While
these deviations can mostly be explained because of harmonic syntax, their presence
always seems to be justifiable for the sake of variety. Thirdly, the presence of some
issues regarding consecutive intervals, cross-relations and doubled dissonances
could perhaps raise the eyebrows of a modern-day theorist or contrapuntist. Bach’s
use of these liberties, however, further reflects the flexibility of eighteenth-century
329. Tovey, 1931/1960: 8.

330. These authentic cadences occur in bars 52‑53, 86‑87 and 102‑103. Both Pieter Dirksen and David
Schulenberg, however, mention only two such cadences strangely enough; Dirksen refers to those
in bars 52‑53 and 86‑87 (Dirksen, 1994: 150), Schulenberg to those in bars 52‑53 and 102‑103
(Schulenberg, 1993: 354).
331. Albeit typical for minor keys, Bach also used this suspirans motif consisting of descending minor
seconds on two occasions in a major key, in the alto in bar 28a (F major) and in the upper voices
in bars 61‑62 (C major). The notation and context of the former, however, could cause a performer
to miss it and play the fourth alto quaver in bar 28a as an e¨1, which Moroney actually did on his
recording of the Art of Fugue. After all, this e1 has not been provided with a (cautionary) accidental
in the print while E¨s occur in the alto in bar 27a and in the bass in bar 28b. In order to avoid the
possible confusion, therefore, most editions – Moroney’s obviously not being one of them – prefer
adding this cautionary accidental before this e1 in the alto in bar 28a.
voice-leading principles, although, it is true, Bach stretched this frame of reference

to the limit and, every once in a while, beyond it.
While the counter-subjects to the second and fourth subjects of the opening exposi-
tion are without textual issues, the one to the third subject does contain one textual
issue, which needs consideration. It could be wondered whether Bach forgot to write
a flat before the e1 in the alto in bar 12b.332 This e¨1 would not only be harmonically
perfectly fulfilling, but would also make contrapuntal sense; it would produce this
counter-subject’s typical suspirans consisting of two descending minor seconds.
Being the result of a solution to a harmonic issue, however, the specific configura-
tion, of a suspirans deviating contextually in the alto in bar 11b, possibly explains that
the e(ª)1 a bar later was indeed a conscious decision. As example 1 illustrates, apply-
ing the strict inversion of the subject and the counter-subject would have yielded an
improperly prepared and resolved six-four chord in bar 11.
Ï Ï
& b C Ïú Ï ÏÏ#ÏÏ ÏÏ Ï ú Ï Ï Ï úÏ bÏ Ï Ïú Ï Ï Ï úÏ bÏ Ï
10 11 12
#Ï #Ï
?bC · ú ú ú ú
{ · · ·
Bach, therefore, was obliged to modify the beginning of the counter-subject, which
he basically realized by replacing what would have been the first, regular note of
the counter-subject d1 with an a1. So in order to insert the regular counter-subject
as quickly as possible, he connected this new note a1 via a descending, purely dia-
tonic suspirans to the d1 on the next downbeat. Since the first and second bars of the
counter-subjects in this piece are mostly identical, each of which include the same
suspirans figure consisting of two consecutive descending minor seconds, he prob-
ably preferred to keep the same style for both opening bars of this particular counter-
subject as well, resulting in a diatonic suspirans figure in bar 12.
Another textual issue concerns the downbeat of bar 16. Instead of the actual tied
crotchet d2 in the alto, Bach could easily have written two quavers d2, the first of which
being tied to the one in the preceding bar. In fact, this alternative version seems to be
332. As far as I was able to verify, no edition suggests this reading.

the better option. It would not only have preserved the continuous quaver movement
but it would also have resulted in a rhythmically complementary imitative treatment
of the suspirans between the tenor and alto (see example 2).
Ï
Ï Ï ÏnÏ Ï Ï
14 15 16
&b C ú ÏbÏ Ï# Ï Ï ÏÏ
?bC ú ÏÏÏÏ ú ÏbÏ Ï#Ï ú ÏbÏ Ï#Ï

{
Example 2: Contrapunctus 4, bars 14-16, alternative version (only tenor and alto).
The only justification for the crotchet d2 that I can see is that this note has not been
prepared by a customary minim but rather by a crotchet octave leap d1-d2, so that its
syncopated second note is given emphasis.333
Like the previous Contrapuncti, Contrapunctus 4 also contains several instances
which illustrate further that a progression of fifths did not bother Bach if the first
fifth is transformed into a third before going to the second fifth and one of the fifths
is durchgehend (see the fifths between the tenor and soprano in bars 13 and 37, and
those between the bass and soprano in bar 17).334
Bar 26, which is the concluding bar of the first episode and last segment of its sec-
ond sequential pattern, which starts in bar 23, shows how a subtle adaptation in the
expected decoratio can help to generate structure. Besides providing a useful variation
to the sequential pattern and a practical solution to avoid poor voice-leading – com-
pare Bach’s version with example 3 – this deviating segment decreases the musical
tension in the episode’s last bar, leaving the emphasis on the soprano’s subject entry
one bar later, which opens this piece’s second exposition.
333. A similar voice-leading occurs in the soprano in bar 36b‑37a. Note that Bach could also have opted
for writing two quavers b¨1 in the soprano on the downbeat of bar 12 resulting in yet another suspirans,
but decided against it probably for reasons of motivic consistency. After all, the unornamented
suspension on the downbeat, resolving on the second crotchet of the bar, is typical of the soprano
line in the intra-thematic transition preceding the second dux (bars 9‑10), hence being continued
for two more bars above that dux.
334. The possible issue of parallelism is actually non-existent in the last instance since a chord with
another harmonic function separates both fifths.
îÏÏÏ · ÏÏÏ ú · ÏbÏ Ï Ï ú ·Ï Ï Ï Ï úÏ

23 24 25 26 27
& b C úú ä ú Ï bÏ úú
ú Ï nÏ Ï Ï ú Ï#Ï Ï Ï ú ÏÏÏÏú ÏÏú
? b C ä Ï ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï
Ï Ï
Ï
ÏÏ
{ Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï Ï ÏÏÏÏ Ï
Ï
The presence of a second four-voiced exposition is given structural sense by Bach

mainly because of two features, resembling those he had used for the same purpose
already in the thematic passages of the previous Contrapuncti. Instead of maintaining
the regular alternation between the duces and comites in the tonic and dominant keys,
all four thematic statements are duces, and are organized according to a pattern of
ascending fifths, being subsequently in F major, C major, G minor and D minor.
With regard to the alto’s subject entry on the downbeat of bar 31, two elements
in the decoratio contribute to its due impact. Firstly, a crotchet rest precedes the alto
entry. While one can hardly claim it to be a general rule that a subject needs to be
introduced systematically by a rest,335 when a rest does occur, as is the case here, a
thematic statement is indeed more easily seen and heard. Secondly, the continuous
quaver movement on the downbeat of bar 31 is interrupted – surely an intentional
compositional decision as well. After all, Bach could easily have written four quavers
in the tenor in bar 31a, that is with the repeated suspension on the second quaver, as
he did in the bass in bar 33a.336
As already dealt with in chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’, cross-relations, where
two different versions of a note sound together, did not upset Bach. Nevertheless,
it could be wondered if the cautionary ¨ before the B in the bass, which causes a
cross-relation with the soprano on the second crotchet of bar 34, should not be read
rather as a ª, Bª occurring twice half a bar earlier in that voice. It would appear even so
that the cross-relation was indeed intentional, apparently the result of the harmonic-
motivic organization of this passage. Firstly, the soprano in bar 34a literally imitates
the bass’s ascending suspirans (with Bª) occurring half a bar earlier. Secondly, the
335. As a matter of fact, the thematic entrances in the tenor and bass in bars 106‑107 and in the alto in
bars 110‑111 of this Contrapunctus are not introduced by rests.
336. Bach did write continuous quavers accompanying the first note of a subject, however, when it
re-enters after a considerable rest, which is actually the case for all thematic statements after the
opening exposition apart from the one just discussed.
B¨ in the bass at that moment can, for its part, be explained by the modulation to
G minor in bar 34b, a reading which furthermore results in an exact transposition at
the lower fifth of a part of the alto’s subject (bar 33b‑34a), adding thematic imitation
to the setting (see example 4).
& b C úÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï nÏ ú
33b 34
ú Ï Ï Ï#Ï
? b C nÏ · Ï Ï b Ï ·
{ ÏÏ ú
Example 4: Contrapunctus 4, bars 33b-34.

We have already seen, in chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’, that Bach found the suc-
cession of an octave and a unison quite acceptable as well.337 Otherwise he would
surely have embellished the ascending octave G-g in the bass in bar 35 differently
(example 5 contains one possible alternative).
& b C Ïú Ï úÏ bÏ Ï #Ï
35
ú
? b C Ï Ï #Ï úÏ
{ Ï Î
Example 5: Contrapunctus 4, bar 35, alternative version.
In contrast to the Ohrenoctaven in Contrapunctus 1, which can be eliminated in perfor-

mance, Bach’s solution to circumventing the obvious consecutive octaves resulting
from the doubling of the B¨, the sixth scale step in D minor, between the bass and alto
on the second crotchet of bar 41 of Contrapunctus 4 inevitably yields Ohrenoctaven. After
all, whatever articulation one uses, the perception of the octaves b¨/b¨1-a/a1 will always
remain. (Thus Bach did not seem to have been unduly troubled with the audible per-
ception of such octaves if the voice-leading between every combination of two voices
was acceptable on paper.338) Nevertheless, to reduce the possible impact of these
337. With regard to the different rhythmic notation of the unison, see my discussion on Contrapunctus 3.
338. Note that anschlagende fifths separated by a leap of a fourth in one of the voices constituting the
first fifth, occurring in this bar between the bass and alto, not only belonged to Bach’s standard
Ohrenoctaven, to some extent at least, I would suggest avoiding any kind of emphasis
on both the crotchet b¨1 in the alto and the A major chord in the middle of bar 41.339
The decoratio in bar 39 seems to have been conceived in such a way that the fourth
and last thematic statement of the exposition, starting in bar 27, is given the most
prominent start of all the thematic statements of this exposition. Instead of repro-
ducing a similar setting to the one in bar 15, that is the first bar of the bass entry of
the opening exposition, Bach added to the first two bass subject notes in bar 39 a
close, three-voiced imitative texture based on a diminished seventh and its resolu-
tion, thus explaining the seemingly redundant repetition of the b¨1 in the soprano:
39
j
& b C ÏÏ ™#Ï Ï Ï úÏ Ïz Ï Ï
Ï b Ï Ï#Ï Ï
?bC ú ú Ï ÏÏ
{
Consider now the decoratio in the first three bars of the following episode, that is
bars 43b‑45. While Bach obviously could have written a version without rests in the
bass and alto, which would actually have resulted in a harmonically richer setting
(see example 7), the actual reading provides a useful difference between the ‘good’
and ‘bad’ beats of each bar, the ‘good’ beats being four-voiced with suspensions,
the ‘bad’ beats two-voiced and consonant.340 Only in bar 46 did Bach write, during
the last segment of the sequential pattern, a suspension in both the bass and alto. In
addition, he abandoned the suspirans and cuckoo-like figure in those voices, which
is typical for this pattern, in bar 46b. This setting is thus another example of how
voice-leading but were also generally accepted in his time. For more detailed information on
anschlagende fifths and Ohrenoctaven, see, again, chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’.
339. In bar 126b‑127a of this Contrapunctus another doubling of the sixth scale step in a minor key occurs,
for which Bach’s solution to avoid consecutive octaves this time did not cause any perception issue.
While the sixth scale step in the tenor regularly descends to the fifth scale step (via the fourth scale
step), the one in the alto ascends chromatically (giving the leading note and the tonic prematurely
via an augmented second) before actually going to the leading note and the tonic.
340. The argument that perhaps the rests in the bass and alto are due to a playing issue does not stand
up. If one plays the first note of each suspirans in the alto with the left hand, two hands can easily
execute this alternative version.
a deviating decoratio, which surely implies emphasis in performance, can help to

clarify the dispositio.
ú Ï Ï Ï Ï úÏ Ï ÏÏÏú Ïú Ï Ï ÏnúÏ Ï
& b C ÏÏ #nÏÏ ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ïz Ï ú
43 44 45 46
ÏÏÏ ú Ï ÏÏ
Ï ÏÏ
Ï Ï ú
? b C ú™ Ï Ïú ™ Ï nú Ï Ïú™ Ï ú Ï Ïú nÏ #úÏ Ï
{ ÏnÏ
The second part of this episode (bars 47‑53a), also a sequential pattern, contains
several instances which illustrate how Bach occasionally doubled (and even once
tripled) the same non-harmonic note (see example 8, in which all simultaneous non-
harmonic notes are marked).341
Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
& b C z Ïú Ï#Ï nÏ ÏÏ ™Ï Ï ÏJ ÏÏnÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ™Ï Ï nÏJ #ÏÏ ÏnÏ Ï ÏÏ ™Ï ÏJ ú™Ï#Ï Ï #Ï Ï
47 48 49 50
Ï Ï
? b C #ÏÏ™ ú nÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ ™ ú Ï Ï nÏÏ nÏÏ™ #ú Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ™ Ï ÏÏ Ï
{ J Ï J J J
When we compare this kind of chord constitution to that of bar 50 of Contrapunctus 2,

where Bach did clearly avoid doubling the same non-harmonic note, it would appear
that the absence of the bottom note of the implied dissonant interval at the moment
that both non-harmonic notes are struck together makes this voice-leading accept-
able for him. In bar 47, for instance, the Bª on the fourth quaver in the bass replaces
the c – the only one in the setting – above which the soprano had produced on the
downbeat a suspension of a seventh bª1, the latter being repeated above that fourth
quaver Bª in the bass. As for the tripling of the non-harmonic note in bar 50a, this
actually seems to have been Bach’s best compositional option in the context. After
all, a dotted minim a in the tenor on the downbeat of bar 50 would have produced
a rhythm which equalled that of the alto too much (see example 9a), and replacing
341. See also chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’.

the tenor’s e1 by a g on the second crotchet of that bar would have resulted in a new
chord and, consequently, in a different harmonic rhythm compared to that of the
sequential pattern (see example 9b).
Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
& b C #ÏÏ ÏnÏ Ï ÏÏ ™Ï ÏJ ú™ Ï#Ï Ï #Ï Ï
49 50
Ï
? C nÏÏ™ #ú Ï Ï ÏÏ úÏ ™™ Ï Ï Ï
{ b J J
Example 9a: Contrapunctus 4, bars 49-50, alternative version.
Ï Ï Ï ÏÏ
& b C #ÏÏ Ï nÏ Ï ÏÏ ™Ï ÏJ ú™ Ï #Ï Ï #Ï Ï
49 50
Ï
? b C nÏÏ™ #ú Ï Ï ÏÏ ÏÏ ™ z Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï
{ J J
Example 9b: Contrapunctus 4, bars 49-50, alternative version.
Since the identical non-harmonic notes struck are purely ornamental, moreover
occurring on a very weak part of the beat, it goes without saying that they are best
played with discretion, with no emphasis and hardly any or no articulation.
Whereas the outer voices literally reproduce their respective material in each sub-
sequent segment of the sequential pattern, the inner voices are not able to do so for
voice-leading reasons. In fact, from example 10, which shows an alternative version
in which the pattern has been respected in the inner voices as well, becomes clear
that every bar contains at least one voice-leading problem requiring modification.
ÏÏnÏ Ï Ï ÏÏ™Ï Ï nÏ Ï ÏÏ Ï#Ï Ï ÏÏ™Ï Ï Ï

& b C z ÏÏ Ï#Ï nÏ ÏÏ ™Ï Ï ÏJ #ÏÏ ÏnÏ Ï ÏÏ ™Ï ÏJ
47 48 49 50
J J
nÏ Ï #ú Ï Ï ú Ï
? b C #ÏÏ™ ú nÏ Ï Ï Ï ú
Ï ™ Ï Ï nÏ Ï™ Ï Ï Ï Ï™ Ï Ï Ï
{ J Ï J J J
Firstly, in bars 47 and 50 it is not possible to preserve the g©1 and c©2, respectively, as
second crotchet in the alto because this voice-leading would have caused the leading
note to have been doubled between the alto and soprano in those bars. Secondly, in
bar 48b the doubling of the Bª on the last crotchet in the lower voices arguably would
have emphasized the tenor’s tritone f-bª too much.342 Thirdly, in bar 49b‑50a the
tied c1 in the tenor would have resulted in a cross-relation with the c©2 of the soprano
within the same chord.
In contrast with bars 47‑53a, which work as an ascending gradatio followed by
the first authentic cadence of the piece, the setting of the first four bars of this epi-
sode’s third part yields a more relaxed musical discourse, actually displaying the
most straightforward setting of the piece. In bars 53‑56 both hands alternate a
combination of a suspirans and a cuckoo-like figure, the suspirans always occurring
in the inner voices, the cuckoo-like figure in the outer. Bach moreover incorporated
this playing device within yet another sequential pattern, in which these four bars
actually give shape to two uniform two-bar segments, each of which represent a
descending gradatio. Following Kirnberger’s advice, I would also suggest effectively
translating this structural organization into the performance by applying the con-
cept of compound metre to this passage, which will avoid too systematic an accen-
tuation of each downbeat.343
Precisely because the second segment of this sequential pattern seems to have
been conceived as a literal transposition of the first, it is somewhat surprising that
the last tenor note in bar 53 reads b¨, whereas two bars later no flat occurs before
the e1 in that voice. Did Bach intend this difference and, if so, for what reason, or
did he simply overlook this inconsistency? Or should the ¨ before the last tenor
note in bar 53 rather be read as a ª perhaps? Since no decisive arguments can be
given in favour of one particular view, each performer should therefore decide how
he sees this matter.
After the third and last segment of this sequential pattern, the subject re-estab-
lishes itself in the bass in bar 61, opening what will become the piece’s third exposi-
tion. In addition to the mere presence of that subject, the harmonic organization at
this join also helps to distinguish the beginning of this exposition from the last sec-
tion of the preceding episode. While the latter, lasting four instead of the expected
two bars, basically consists of a dominant chord in F major, the harmonic rhythm
on the first note of the bass entry is as much as sixteen times faster, that is per
crotchet. Moreover, the chord on the second crotchet of bar 61 is already an unusual
342. Note, however, that the melodic interval of the tritone in itself did not bother Bach. See, amongst
others, the bass in bar 50b‑51a of this Contrapunctus.
343. For more detailed information, see chapter 1.2 ‘On Metre’.
leading-note diminished seventh chord (thus with a¨1) in C major,344 being rendered
even more deviant by a chromatically raised third d©2.
While the four subject entries of this third exposition are again organized accord-
ing to a pattern of ascending fifths – in this instance, the succession of keys for each
subsequent thematic statement is C major, G minor, D minor and A minor – Bach
provided three additional features to give it structural sense, further adding to the
overall intensification within the piece. Firstly, he did not use the regular form of
the subject but transposed its second half a tone higher, a subject transformation
of which Donald Francis Tovey in his Companion to ‘THE ART OF FUGUE’ rightly said
‘it has a powerfully rhetorical modulating effect’.345 In fact, the first occurrence of
the first deviant subject’s note on the downbeat of bar 63, including an unprepared
second between the bass and tenor, is unquestionably the most unexpected moment
in the piece up to then, working as a highly emphatic paronomasia and pathopoeia.
Secondly, Bach added an intra-thematic transition between the second and the third
entry (bars 69‑72), although this was harmonically not necessary – bar 73 could have
followed bar 68 smoothly (see example 11).
& b C z Ï bÏ · Ï Ï ·
68 73
ú
ú
Ï
# ú Ï Ï Ï ÏnÏÏ Ï Ï b Ï ÏÏ # Ï Ï Ï n Ï
?bC ÏÏÏ Ï Ï Ï Ï
{ Ï
Example 11: Contrapunctus 4, bars ’68 & 73’, alternative version.
Moreover, he also made its presence meaningful by using in its first two bars, instead
of the omni-present descending thirds, their inversions, that is ascending sixths.
Thirdly, at least the first two bars of each thematic statement co-occur with succes-
sive suspirans figures on each beat.
Two textual issues during this exposition need consideration. Firstly, when com-
paring the soprano rhythm of bar 64 with that of, for instance, bars 38 and 115, one
344. The voice-leading in bar 61a is actually one of two instances in this Contrapunctus, the other being that
in bar 109a, which further confirms Bach’s tolerance towards cross-relations occurring in between
two different chords. In bar 61a the tenor’s and the soprano’s a(ª) directly precede the alto’s a¨1, and
in bar 109a the soprano’s e¨2 precedes the alto’s e(ª)1. See also chapter 1.4 ‘On Voice-leading’.
345. Tovey, 1931/1960: 9.
might wonder why the d2 on the last crotchet of bar 64 has not been preceded with
a crotchet rest as well. While a version with a rest is obviously unobjectionable, it
would appear that the dotted minim d2 results from motivic consistency, the alto’s c2
in the preceding bar also being held beyond the middle of the bar. Secondly, in con-
trast to bar 78a, bar 77a does not have a minim but a crotchet followed by a crotchet
rest in the bass, a difference in rhythm, I believe, not stemming from a musical but
from a keyboard-technical reason. After all, in relation to the tenor’s e1 on the second
crotchet of bar 77, a bass’s minim c on the downbeat of that bar would have caused
a stretch of a tenth in the left hand, an interval he mostly avoided to maintain for the
most part an unstrained hand position.346
The following episode is the most elaborate of the piece, consisting of not less
than twenty-six bars and five sections, each of those sections contributing to the
overall increase in intensity of the musical discourse. Even in its fifth section (bars
103‑106), strongly resembling the last section of the second episode (bars 53‑56),
Bach did not merely reproduce the latter’s straightforward texture but introduced a
number of variations and irregularities to it. Firstly, he reversed the hand distribu-
tion pattern. Here the combinations of a suspirans and a cuckoo-like figure falling on
the ‘good’ minims occur in the left hand, those falling on the ‘bad’ minims occur in
the right hand. Secondly, instead of keeping the suspirans and the cuckoo-like figures
always in the same voices, in each subsequent bar of this episode’s concluding sec-
tion he alternated both motifs between the alto and soprano. Thirdly, the interval
between those simultaneous alto and soprano motifs is not systematically a third,
but three times a sixth, and once a third. In fact, the combination at the third in bar
105b‑106a is caused by a deviation from the sequential pattern, the soprano produc-
ing the cuckoo-like figure c2‑a1 instead of f2‑d2, for melodic and harmonic reasons.
Bach thus avoided two consecutive downbeat sixths f1/d2 in the alto and soprano in
bars 106‑107. The downbeat of bar 107, for its part, actually results from the fact that
the last combination at the sixth is transposed a third higher to allow the tenor’s
D minor subject inversus to enter on the downbeat of bar 107, a setting in which the
b¨1 would obviously not have fitted.
346. Other instances in Contrapunctus 4 of large harmonic intervals being avoided occur in bars 88b
(a tenth between the alto and soprano), 94a (a tenth between the bass and tenor), 96a (a tenth
between the bass and tenor) and bar 116a (a twelfth between the bass and tenor). As illustrated,
however, by bar 61b of the same piece, for instance, Bach did write this stretch occasionally (a tenth
between the bass and tenor), but only out of contrapuntal necessity it seems. See also Leonhardt,
1952: 14 & 17‑21.
In this episode we also encounter a number of textual issues which deviate con-
textually. Firstly, according to the sequential pattern of the second section of this
episode, the last soprano’s note in bar 90 should have been a bª2 instead of the elo-
quently weaker d2. Yet Bach perhaps judged the former to be the lesser of the two
choices in order to make the modulation to D minor efficient.347 Secondly, according
to the sequential pattern of the next section of this episode, the note value of the
alto’s b¨1 in bar 95b should have been a minim instead of the crotchet followed by the
crotchet rest. The latter version, though, seems to have been brought about by a play-
ing issue. As a matter of fact, the only convenient fingering for that b¨1 in function
of its preceding suspirans and in respect of Bach’s (supposed) keyboard practice is to
play it with the second finger of the right hand. As a consequence of this fingering,
undoubtedly the best option to finger the soprano’s suspirans is to pass the third over
the fifth finger in order subsequently to play the eª2 and f©2, a fingering obviously
causing the release of the alto’s b¨1 on the fourth crotchet of bar 95:348
y Ï Ï ÏÏ Ï äÏ nÏ #Ï Ï Ï
5 3 4 5
95 5 4 96
b
& ÏC Î î
1 3 2 1 2
Example 12: Contrapunctus 4, bars 95-96a (only alto and soprano).
Thirdly, when comparing the rhythm of bar 103 with that of the two following bars,
it may seem strange that Bach did not also write minims in the alto and soprano on
the downbeat of bar 103. Yet those crotchets occur on the join between the fourth
and fifth sections of this episode, allowing the latter section a more noticeable start.
This rhythm actually working as an apocope, I agree with Gustav Leonhardt, who
claimed that:
347. Although a bª does still occur in bar 90b and even on the next downbeat in the tenor, it actually
changes function on the latter beat from being the third of the dominant chord in C major into the
raised sixth scale step in D minor, progressing to D minor’s leading note c©1.
348. In bar 93b, on the other hand, a shortening of the alto’s minim d2 into a crotchet was not necessary,
because one can easily hold that note with the thumb when playing the suspirans in the soprano:
äú1 Ï Ï Ï 94 Ï
2/4 3/5 4 5
úÏ Ï Ï #Ï
93
&b C î
Example 13: Contrapunctus 4, bars 93-94a (only alto and soprano).
By this abridgment of ending notes a clear separation between sections of a

piece is aimed at.349
Following this episode, Bach wrote yet again a four-part exposition, the fourth and
last of Contrapunctus 4, giving it structural sense this time by introducing stretto to the
piece. David Schulenberg in his book The Keyboard of J. S. Bach correctly observes that:
Bach saved the climactic contrapuntal device for the return to the tonic at
bar 107. This passage … opens dramatically with a pair of close strettos per
arsin et thesin, first for the two lower voices, then the two upper. This can be
an exciting moment in performance, a good example of how, even in a strict
fugue, rhythmic, contrapuntal, and formal elements can combine to create
a powerful musical effect.350
Towards the end of this Contrapunctus, a number of compositional features ensure

a further intensification of the musical discourse. Firstly, Bach reserved the argu-
ably most powerful and unexpected harmonic progression of the piece for its final
thematic passage. (Contrary to the previous ones, the last thematic passage does
not consist of four but of two subject entries, the first in the tenor, the second in the
alto.) On the downbeat of the third bar of the tenor’s subject in this thematic passage
(bar 131a), an E major ninth chord brusquely ends the G minor chord prevailing in
the previous bars, a chord choice which in fact gives a strong emphasis to the start of
this subject’s transposed second half.351 Secondly, at the end of the episode preced-
ing this final thematic passage, the music suggests for the first time in the piece a
ternary instead of binary metric organization. After all, a weak-beat non-essential
dissonance occurs in the middle of bar 127 (c2) and resolves on the downbeat of the
next bar (b¨1) within the same G minor chord above a tied-over bass G, the G minor
chord being maintained throughout bar 128. To make this implied 3/2 bar compat-
349. Leonhardt, 1952: 16. Note that Bach apparently did not find it necessary to abridge the two minims in
the lower voices at the analogous spot in bar 53a. After all, constituting an octave instead of a third,
they easily permit the sequential pattern to be perceived as starting on the second quaver of that bar.
350. Schulenberg, 1993: 354.
351. It is not the first and only time, however, that this dominant ninth chord with an unprepared ninth
appears in Contrapunctus 4. Bach had already used it on the downbeat of bar 79, also to harmonize
the first note of a subject’s transposed second half. Nevertheless, for two reasons, the second
occurrence of this chord surely remains the stronger. Firstly, while the ninth chord in bar 79a
includes a prepared seventh, which softens somewhat the attack of the chord, all the notes of the
ninth chord in bar 131a are struck together. Secondly, because the root of the ninth chord in bar 79a
was already present in the bass in the previous bar (f©1), the ninth chord in bar 79a does not have the
same expressive impact of the unannounced ninth chord in bar 131a.
ible with the preceding bar and a half during performance, I would suggest playing
bar 127a (slightly) less affirmatively, which rather makes it function as a fairly ‘good’
third beat of what also becomes a 3/2 bar than as a first ‘good’ beat of a 2/2 bar.
Thirdly, the start of the concluding tonic bass pedal point of Contrapunctus 4 does
not coincide with the first note of the piece’s final thematic statement, as it does in
Contrapunctus 1, but with its fifth note. This unusual arrangement actually creates a
structural tension, which considerably emphasizes the third bar of this subject entry.
The dissonant sixth chord D‑F©‑B¨ on the beginning of the pedal point, for that mat-
ter, renders this moment even more noticeable. In this manner the setting of the fifth
note of what is a regular subject, that is without a transposed second half, apparently
attempts to match the strong ninth chord on the first irregular note of the preceding
subject. Fourthly, possibly for the same reason, the last minim of the first subject
and the first minim of the last subject of this thematic passage (bar 132a‑133b) are
harmonized in such a way that they render the latter less strong than its metric posi-
tion suggests. In fact, it would appear that bars 132b‑133 represent another 3/2 bar.
After all, as in bar 127b‑128a, a weak-beat non-essential dissonance occurs in the
middle of bar 132 (c©1), and resolves on the downbeat of the next bar (d1) within the
same D minor sixth chord above a tied-over bass f. Alternatively, one might rather
consider the f in the bass in bar 132a as an anticipation of i6 still within the dominant
chord. Nevertheless, however one looks at this harmonization, the first note of the
final thematic statement remains underexposed in any case, leaving the subject’s
centre of attention on its fifth note.
With Contrapunctus 4 Bach stretched the concept of ‘simple’ fugue to its limits; four
four-part expositions are followed by as many multi-sectional episodes without the
systematic application of a particular contrapuntal technique. Despite the piece’s
considerable length a number of features do ensure a captivating musical discourse.
Besides applying a wide variety of textures, from contrapuntally intricate settings to
more mechanical-like devices, Contrapunctus 4 displays an overall gradual intensifica-
tion in which the presence of the Art of Fugue subject with transposed second half
plays a prominent role.
Appendix 1
Glossary
Authentic cadence. A cadence consisting of a dominant triad or dominant seventh

chord in root position followed by a tonic triad.
Counter-exposition. ‘In some fugues the exposition is followed, either immediately

or after the first episode …, by what is called a Counter-exposition. This is really a sec-
ond exposition in the same two keys (generally tonic and dominant) as the first, but
with important differences. The chief of these are that in the counter-exposition the
voices which before had the subject now have the answer, and vice versa; and that
frequently the answer leads and the subject replies. … In many cases, when there is
a counter-exposition, it is only partial; that is to say, not all the voices of the fugue
take part in it. … In many cases this portion of the work is used to introduce the first
stretto,–that is to say, in the counter-exposition, the entries of the subject are closer
together than in the first exposition.’352 See also ‘Stretto’.
Counter-fugue. ‘A fugue in which the first answer in the exposition is the inver-
sion of the subject. It commonly follows from this that the inverted subject features
prominently in the fugue as a whole.’353 See also ‘Subject rectus and inversus’.
Counter-subject. ‘In a fugue, a second theme that figures prominently but is sub-
ordinate in importance to the subject. A counter-subject proper is presented in the
exposition in orderly fashion, that is, each voice immediately follows its opening
statement of the subject by stating the counter-subject in counterpoint with the next
statement of the subject in the next voice to enter. In order for the combination of
subject and counter-subject always to produce good counterpoint, the two must be
352. Prout, 1891: 89-90.

353. Paul Walker: Counter-fugue, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 12 December 2012), <http://
www.grovemusic.com>.
composed in invertible counterpoint so that they work properly together no matter

which is above the other.’354 See also ‘Invertible counterpoint’.
Dux and comes.355 I use these terms to designate a fugue’s subject and answer, respec-
tively.
Intra-thematic transition.356 A term for a non-thematic transition within an exposi-

tion, often occurring between the second and third subject entries mostly for rea-
sons of tonal organization.
Invertible counterpoint. ‘The contrapuntal design of two or more parts in a poly-

phonic texture so that any of these parts may serve as the highest part or as the bass.’357
Per arsin et thesin. Refers ‘to the entrance of a theme (usually a fugue subject) with
displaced accents, former strong beats becoming weak and vice versa’.358
Proposta and riposta. I use these terms to designate leader and follower, respectively,
in the context of stretto. See also ‘Stretto’.
Sequence. I use this term for the successive repetition of a melodic idea or a motif
– the model – in a single voice at different pitch levels, whereby the individual seg-
ments imitating the model are marked off by the same interval.
Sequential pattern. I use this term for the successive repetition of a polyphonic idea
– the model – at different pitch levels, whereby the individual segments imitating the
model are marked off by the same interval.
Sine pausa. Refers to the fact that several voices, which are involved in canonic con-
structions or stretti, produce a simultaneous start of the same motif, theme or fugal
subject, whether or not at different pitch levels or including different rhythmic pro-
portions. See also ‘Stretto’.
354. Paul Walker: Countersubject, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 12 December 2012), <http://
355. The plurals are duces and comites, respectively.
356. Term by Yves Senden.
357. William Drabkin: Invertible counterpoint, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 12 December
2012), <http://www.grovemusic.com>.
358. Paul Walker: Arsis, thesis, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 12 December 2012), <http://
Glossary 233
Stretto. ‘In fugue, the procedure of beginning a second statement of the subject
before the preceding statement has finished, so that the two overlap.’359
Stretto fugue. A fugue in which almost every subject entry, or at least those in the
opening exposition, is involved in stretto. See also ‘Stretto’.
Subject rectus and inversus. The subject in its initial form and that subject melodically
inverted, respectively.
359. Paul Walker: Stretto (i), Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 12 December 2012), <http://
Glossary 235
Appendix 2
Musical-Rhetorical Figures 360
Abruptio. ‘A sudden and unexpected break in a musical composition.’361
Anabasis. ‘An ascending musical passage which expresses ascending or exalted

images or affections.’362 Opp. catabasis.
Anapaest. See figura corta.
Apocope. ‘An omitted or shortened final note in one [or more] voices [of a section] of
a composition.’363
Catabasis. ‘A descending musical passage which expresses descending, lowly, or

negative images or affections.’364 Opp. anabasis.
Dactylus. See figura corta.
Climax. See gradatio.
Ellipsis. ‘(1) An omission of an expected consonance; (2) an abrupt interruption in

the music.’365
Figura corta or corta. ‘A three-note figure in which one note’s duration equals the sum
of the other two.’366 The corta opening with the longer note is described as a dactylus,
360. All the definitions in this appendix come from Bartel, 1997.
361. Bartel, 1997: 167.
362. Ibid.: 179.
363. Ibid.: 201. While Bartel has based his definition on Burmeister’s, I have adapted it in accordance
with Walther’s.
364. Ibid.: 214.
365. Ibid.: 245.
366. Ibid.: 234.
the one ending with it as an anapaest. The former also exists in a rhythmic variation,
called figura suspirans or suspirans, ‘where the one longer note is subdivided into a rest
and a note of equal value to the other two’.367
Gradatio. ‘(1) A sequence of notes in one voice repeated either at a higher or lower
pitch; (2) two voices moving in ascending or descending parallel motion; (3) a gra-
dual increase or rise in sound and pitch, creating a growth in intensity.’368 In Bach’s
time this term was a synonym for climax. I, however, use the latter only to designate
the culmination point of a gradatio.
Hyperbaton. ‘A transfer of notes or phrases from their normal placement to a differ-

ent location.’369
Hypotyposis. ‘A vivid musical representation of images found in the accompanying text.’370
Parenthesis. ‘A musical representation of parentheses in the text.’371
Passus duriusculus. ‘A chromatically altered ascending or descending melodic line.’372
Paronomasia. ‘A repetition of a musical passage, with certain additions or alterations,

for the sale of greater emphasis.’373
Pathopoeia. ‘A musical passage which seeks to arouse a passionate affection through

chromaticism or some other means.’374
Saltus duriusculus. ‘A dissonant leap.’375
Suspirans. See figura corta.
367. Ibid.: 234.

368. Ibid.: 220.
369. Ibid.: 301.
370. Ibid.: 307.
371. Ibid.: 348.
372. Ibid.: 357.
373. Ibid.: 350.
374. Ibid.: 359.
375. Ibid.: 381.
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Index 247
Index
Abhandlung von der Fuge (Marpurg), 40 increasing complexity/intensity, 207,

accent. See metre 209, 213
Agricola, Johann Friedrich, 108, 116 metric shifts, 206, 209, 213
Ammerbach, Elias Nicolaus, 93 Contrapunctus 4, 71, 81
Aristotle, 31 anschlagende fifths, 220
Arlt, Wulf, 33 cross-relations, 171, 219, 225
articulation, 84, 98, 99, 101, 105, 115, 188 decoratio emphasizing dispositio, 218, 219,
Art of Fugue BWV 1080 221, 222, 224, 227
Canon alla Decima dissonance treatment, 160, 218, 222
direct fifth, 151, 156 durchgehende fifths, 218
fifths in contrary motion, 140 flattened sixth scale step which ascends,
Canon alla Duodecima 168
cross-relations, 173 increasing complexity/intensity, 215,
possible fingerings, 121 225, 226, 228
slurs, 125, 127 metric shifts, 215, 228, 229
Canon alla Ottava, 78, 79, 80 Ohrenoctaven, 137, 220
Canon per Augmentationem, 59, 71 possible fingerings, 122, 227
slurs, 126, 127, 128 raised sixth scale step which descends, 168
challenge set out by Mattheson?, 23 succession of an octave and a unison,
Contrapunctus 1, 44, 62, 72 140, 220
direct octave, 156, 180 Contrapunctus 5, 73
durchgehende octaves, 143, 181 avoided dissonance, 166
flattened sixth scale step which ascends, direct fifth, 151
168 succession of a unison and an octave, 140
increasing complexity/intensity, 181, Contrapunctus 6
182, 186 dissonance treatment, 160
use of consonant six-four chord, 167 succession of a diminished and a pure
voice crossings, 177, 178, 181, 182 fifth, 139
Contrapunctus 2, 44 Contrapunctus 8, 30, 59
avoided dissonance, 191 anschlagende octaves, 142
decoratio emphasizing dispositio, 191, 192, direct octave, 156
194, 196 dissonance treatment, 165
dissonance treatment, 160 nachschlagende octaves, 148
durchgehende octaves, 191 succession of a diminished and a pure
increasing complexity/intensity, 187, fifth, 139
195, 196, 197 Contrapunctus 9
no free dissonance treatment, 163 durchgehende octaves, 141
Contrapunctus 3, 72 succession of a diminished and a pure
articulation, 200 fifth, 139
cross-relations, 211 Contrapunctus 10
decoratio emphasizing dispositio, 205, possible fingerings, 120, 122
207, 210, 213 Contrapunctus 11, 65, 69, 70, 72
durchgehende fifths, 144, 201, 207 cross-relations, 171
direct fifth, 151 Aria variata in A minor BWV 989

dissonance treatment, 161, 165 dissonance treatment, 160
possible fingerings, 122 Art of Fugue BWV 1080. See main entry
raised sixth scale step which descends, cross-relations, 171, 173, 211, 216, 219, 225
170 dissonances
Contrapunctus 12, 76, 77 essential, 62
Contrapunctus 14, 62, 67, 68, 70 inauthentic, 62, 67, 68, 72
anschlagende fifths, 143 non-essential, 62, 70, 72
avoided parallel fifths, 135 successive, 70, 71, 72
direct fifth, 151 treatment, 160, 161, 163, 164, 165, 166,
dissonance treatment, 160, 164 167, 191, 194, 196, 197, 216, 218, 222
possible fingerings, 122, 123 Durch Adams Fall ist ganz verderbt BWV 637, 27
keyboard concept, 9, 66, 226, 227 Fantasia in A minor BWV 904/1
sources, 11 dissonance treatment, 161
time signatures, 57 fifths and octaves
2/2 metre, 53 anschlagend, 142, 143, 144, 220
Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel direct, 151, 156
on articulation, 99, 188 durchgehend, 139, 141, 143, 144, 181, 191,
on dissonance treatment, 163 201, 207, 218
on fingering in contrary motion, 140, 220
finger replacement, 123 nachschlagend, 148
modern, 102, 103 Ohrenoctaven, 137, 220
paired, 94, 95, 102, 118, 119 parallel, 132, 133, 134, 137
passing under of the thumb, 94 Art of Fugue, The. See main entry
position of the thumb, 111 Bereitet die Wege, bereitet die Bahn!
on held notes, 186 BWV 132, 134
on his father Herr Gott, dich loben wir BWV 16, 134
approach to vocal music, 24 succession of a diminished and a pure fifth
keyboard technique, 108, 116 Capriccio sopra la lontananza del fratello
musical library, 83 dilettissimo in B flat major BWV 992,
practical attitude, 19 138
views on fugal composition, 40 Overture in D major BWV 1069, 138
views on invention, 23 Sie werden aus Saba alle kommen BWV 65,
on keyboard technique, 111 138
Schnellen, 112, 113, 114 fingering
on parallel fifths, 132 broken chords, 119
on performance, 45, 49 modern, 116
of deceptions, 69 paired, 116, 117, 118, 119
of dissonances and consonances, 63, passing under of the thumb, 119
64, 66, 101 use of thumb, 116
of running passages, 113 fugues
of tones within and without the key, 64 permutation fugues, 44
on playing style, 97, 99 regular opening expositions, 44
on slurring, 100, 101, 127, 188 without episodes, 44
Bach, Johann Sebastian without stretti, 44
admiration for François Couperin, 84 Goldberg Variations BWV 988
Applicatio in C major BWV 994, 117, 119, 123 dissonance treatment, 160
approach to vocal music, 24
Index 249
increasing complexity/intensity, 45, 181, Boyvin, Jacques, 84

182, 186, 187, 195, 196, 197, 207, 209, Bruhns, Nicolaus, 84
213, 215, 225, 226, 228 Buchner, Hans, 93
Inventions and Sinfonias. See main entry Burmeister, Joachim, 32, 235
Italian Concerto in F major BWV 971, 125 Butler, Gregory, 23, 41
keyboard technique, 104, 105, 107, 108, Butt, John, 126, 190
110, 114, 116 Buxtehude, Dietrich, 83
hand position, 105, 108 cantabile, 22, 48, 49, 50
Schnellen, 105 Charpentier, Marc-Antoine, 88
member of Mizler’s Society, 19 chria, 39, 40
metre, 53 Compendium harmonicum, oder Kurzer Begriff der
metric shifts, 72, 73, 184, 206, 209, 213, Lehre von der Harmonie (Sorge), 132
215, 228, 229 couler, 91, 92, 99
subdivisions in compound metres, 78, 79 Couperin, François, 84
musical library, 83, 84 Art de toucher le Clavecin, 88, 91
on cantabile, 22, 48, 50 on playing style, 88
on fugal composition, 40, 41 slurs, 90, 91
on invention, 22, 23, 24 Critica Musica (Mattheson), 38
on performance, 22, 47 cross-relations, 170, 171, 172, 173, 216, 219,
Partita in E minor BWV 830, 128 225
playing style D’Anglebert, Jean-Henri, 84
ordentliches Fortgehen, 105 de Grigny, Nicolas, 84
practical attitude, 18, 19, 24, 51, 131 Der General-Bass in der Composition (Heinichen),
Praeambulum in G minor BWV 930, 119, 120 23, 49, 132
rhetoric, 19, 21, 51 Der vollkommene Capellmeister (Mattheson), 17,
figures, 18, 24, 27, 29, 30, 31, 51 23, 32, 34, 40, 132
form, 18, 32, 36, 37 Deutliche Anweisung zum General-Bass (Schröter),
invention, 18, 23 132
performance, 18, 47 Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik
Siehe zu, daß deine Gottesfurcht nicht Heuchelei (Kirnberger), 61, 131, 145
sei BWV 179 Dieupart, Charles, 84
dissonance treatment, 164 Die wahren Grundsätze zum Gebrauch der Harmonie
six-four chords, 167 (Kirnberger), 61, 131
sixth scale step in minor key, 168, 170, 181 Die wolklingende Fingersprache (Mattheson), 23
slurs, 125, 128, 188 diminished triads, 67
St Matthew Passion BWV 244 (Und siehe da), 24 Dirksen, Pieter, 216
teaching method, 19, 24, 36 Diruta, Girolamo, 86
Trio Sonata in C minor BWV 526, 29 fingering system, 85, 93
Vorschriften und Grundsätze zum first author to mention ‘good’ and ‘bad’
vierstimmigen Spielen des General-Baß oder notes, 85
Accompagnement, 131, 144, 161 dissonances, 54, 63
Bach technique. See keyboard technique essential, 59, 60, 61, 62, 66
Banchieri, Adriano, 86 inauthentic, 61, 62, 66, 67, 68, 72
Bartel, Dietrich, 31 non-essential, 59, 61, 62, 70, 72
Beach, David, 60 successive, 70, 71, 72
Bernhard, Christoph, 33 treatment, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164,
Birnbaum, Johann Abraham, 21, 22 165, 166, 167, 196, 216, 218, 222
Böhm, Georg, 84 Dressler, Gallus, 32
Dreyfus, Laurence, 33 Handbuch bey dem Generalbasse und der

DuMage, Pierre, 84 Composition (Marpurg), 131, 133
dynamics, 84, 85 Heinichen, Johann David
emphasis, 58, 59 on cantabile, 48
fifths and octaves on dissonance treatment, 165
anschlagend, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145 on invention, 24
direct, 149, 150, 152, 154, 157 on metre
durchgehend, 139 9/8, 77
in contrary motion, 139, 140 subdivisions in compound metres, 77
nachschlagend, 147 triple, 74
Ohrenoctaven, 137, 182, 220 held notes, 186
parallel, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137 Herbst, Johann Andreas, 32
succession of a diminished and a pure Hofmann, Klaus, 188, 189, 190, 202, 210, 212
fifth, 137, 138 Hotteterre le Romain, Jacques, 90
succession of a pure and a diminished Houle, George, 89, 90
fifth, 137, 138 Il transilvano (Diruta), 85
fingering, 98 increasing complexity/intensity. See Bach,
broken chords, 119 Johann Sebastian
Diruta fingering system, 85, 86, 93 inégalité, 84, 90, 188
finger replacement, 123 invention, 22, 23, 24
modern, 95, 102, 103 Inventions and Sinfonias
paired, 85, 87, 93, 94, 95, 96, 102, 103, Invention 1 in C major BWV 772
116, 117, 118, 119 nachschlagende fifths, 148
passing under of the thumb, 94, 95, 119 Invention 9 in F minor BWV 780
position of the thumb, 111 slurs, 126, 127
Fischer, Johann Caspar Ferdinand, 83 Sinfonia 1 in C major BWV 787
Forkel, Johann Nicolaus cross-relation, 171
on Bach’s keyboard technique, 104, 105, title page, 22, 24, 47, 48
110, 114 Kerll, Johann Caspar, 83
on Bach the performer, 50 Kern melodischer Wissenschaft (Mattheson), 32,
on rhetoric, 37, 50 33, 34
Franck, Melchior, 11 keyboard technique, 108, 110, 111, 113
Freillon Poncein, Jean-Pierre, 90 Bach technique, 104, 105, 107, 108, 110,
Frescobaldi, Girolamo, 83, 84 114, 116
Froberger, Johann Jacob, 83 hand position, 105
fugues Schnellen, 105, 108, 109, 110, 112, 113, 114,
and rhetoric, 38, 39, 41 115
episode, 43, 44 Kirkendale, Ursula, 21, 22
judgment in fugal composition, 44 Kirnberger, Johann Philipp, 36
permutation fugues, 44 criticism on Heinichen’s subdivisions in
regular opening expositions, 44 compound metres, 77
‘simple’, 45, 177, 186, 200, 229 on Bach’s sensitive ear, 139
stretto, 42, 43, 44 on cross-relations, 172
without episodes, 44 on diminished triads, 67
without stretti, 44 on dissonances
Gerber, Ernst Ludwig, 84 essential, 59, 60, 61
Graun, Carl Heinrich, 132, 133 inauthentic, 61
Index 251
non-essential, 59, 61 on fifths and octaves

treatment, 159, 162, 163, 164, 166, 167 anschlagend, 141, 142, 143, 144
on fifths and octaves direct, 149, 152
anschlagend, 145 in contrary motion, 139
direct, 157 nachschlagend, 147
in contrary motion, 140 parallel, 132, 133, 135, 136
nachschlagend, 147 succession of a diminished and a pure
parallel, 133, 135 fifth, 137
succession of a diminished and a pure succession of a pure and a diminished
fifth, 138 fifth, 137
succession of a pure and a diminished on fingering, 95, 98, 103, 118, 119
fifth, 138 on melodic augmented intervals, 168
on melodic augmented intervals, 168 on playing style, 97, 98
on metre, 56, 61, 75 on slurring, 99
2/2, 57 on strict and free style, 160
4/2, 57 on triple metres, 74
9/16, 80 Mattheson, Johann
accent, 56 on accent, 58
compound, 80, 224 on cantabile, 48
subdivisions in compound metres, 77, 79 on cross-relations, 171, 172
triple, 75 on diminished triads, 67
on musical sentence, 36 on dissonance treatment, 163, 165
on performance of dissonances and on emphasis, 58
consonances, 63 on fifth and octaves
on sixth scale step in minor key, 169 direct, 150, 154
on strict and free style, 159 on fugues
on the passing under of the thumb, 94 episode, 43
praise for Bach’s teaching method, 36 form, 40
Kuhnau, Johann, 101 stretto, 42
Ledbetter, David, 113 on hand position, 105
legato. See playing style on melodic augmented intervals, 168
Leonhardt, Gustav, 9, 184, 186, 203, 226, 227 on performance, 46
Lester, Joel, 59 of dissonances and consonances, 64
lier, 91 on playing style, 97
Lindley, Mark, 86, 112 on rhetoric, 17
Lippius, Johannes, 32 form, 17, 32, 33
Lohmann, Ludger, 75, 97 invention, 24
Luther, Martin, 24 praise for the Art of Fugue, 24
Marcello, Benedetto, 33 melodic augmented intervals, 168
Marchand, Louis, 84 Merulo, Claudio, 85, 86
Marpurg, Friedrich Wilhelm, 40, 84 metre, 50, 53, 56, 61
on articulation, 98 2/2, 53, 57
on Bach’s views on fugal composition, 41 4/2, 57
on cross-relations, 171, 172 4/4, 53, 54
on diminished triads, 67 accent, 56, 58
on dissonance treatment, 160, 161, 162, compound, 53, 80, 224
163, 165 metric shifts, 72, 73, 184, 209, 213, 215, 228
on episode, 44
Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum, 55, 56, 59, 63, Principes du clavecin (Marpurg), 99
67, 72, 74, 75, 82, 83, 84, 85, 88, 98, 101, Printz, Wolfgang Caspar, 55
102, 118, 120, 122, 206 Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum. See metre
subdivisions in compound metres, 77, Quantz, Johann Joachim
78, 79 on articulation, 188
tempo di buona/tempo di cattiva, 54 on Bach’s keyboard technique, 108, 110, 113
triple, 53, 74, 75, 77 on cantabile, 49
Mizler, Lorenz Christoph on keyboard technique, 108, 110, 113
criticism on Mattheson’s rhetorical form, on performance, 46
33, 34 of dissonances and consonances, 63,
Korrespondierende Sozietät der Musicalischen 64, 66, 71
Wissenschaften, 19, 40, 132 of running passages, 108, 110
on Bach, 18 on slurring, 188
praise for Mattheson’s rhetorical form, 34 on the snap (Schneller/tire), 108, 109, 110, 114
Moroney, Davitt, 188, 189, 190, 210, 212 Quintilian, 22
Muffat, Georg, 89 Raison, André, 84, 92
Musicalische Handleitung oder Rameau, Jean-Philippe, 99, 116
Gründlicher Unterricht (Niedt), 131 Reincken, Johann Adam, 83
Musicalisches Lexicon (Walther), 49, 54 rhetoric, 17, 37
Musical Offering BWV 1079, 22 and fugue, 38, 39, 41
raised sixth scale step which descends, 170 divisions
voice crossings, 178 decoratio, 17, 18, 30, 31, 51, 177, 178, 182,
musical sentence, 36 183, 186, 187, 191, 192, 194, 196, 199,
musica poetica, 31, 32, 40 207, 210, 213, 218, 219, 221, 222
Neu-Eröffnete Orchestre (Mattheson), 33 dispositio, 17, 18, 22, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34,
Niedt, Friederich Erhardt, 132, 144 35, 36, 37, 39, 51, 177, 181, 182, 186,
Nivers, Guillaume-Gabriel, 87, 88 197, 205, 207, 209, 214, 222
Obituary, 108, 116 elaboratio, 17, 33
ordentliches Fortgehen. See playing style executio, 17, 18, 33, 45, 46, 47, 50, 51
overlegato, 91, 92, 99, 100, 128, 129 inventio, 17, 18, 23, 24, 33, 51
Pachelbel, Johann, 83 figures, 24, 31, 51
Penna, Lorenzo, 86 abruptio, 184
performance, 22, 45, 46, 47, 49, 50, 51 anabasis, 194
of deceptions, 69 anapaest, 66, 121, 122, 127, 185
of dissonances and consonances, 63, 64, apocope, 25, 183, 192, 209, 227
66, 101 catabasis, 25, 180
of running passages, 108, 110, 113, 115 climax, 204
of tones within and without the key, 64 dactylus, 127
Philologisches Tresespiel (Mattheson), 24 ellipsis, 68
playing style, 88, 96, 97, 98, 99 figura suspirans. See suspirans
legato, 50, 96, 97, 100, 128 gradatio, 182, 212, 224
ordentliches Fortgehen, 93, 97, 98, 101, 102, hyperbaton, 27, 29, 31, 180, 181, 196, 205
105, 114, 115, 127, 129 hypotyposis, 25
port de voix, 92, 99 parenthesis, 29
Praecepta der Musicalischen Composition paronomasia, 30, 191, 208, 212, 213, 225
(Walther), 55, 59 passus duriusculus, 27
Praetorius, Michael, 93 pathopoeia, 25, 27, 195, 225
Index 253
saltus duriusculus, 27 tempo di buona/tempo di cattiva. See metre

suspirans, 30, 204, 216, 217, 218, 219, text expression, 24, 29
221, 224, 226 Theile, Johann, 44
form, 17, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37 Thym, Jurgen, 60
invention, 24 Türk, Daniel Gottlob
Rigler, Franz Paul, 100 on fingering, 96
Rivera, Benito V., 177, 187, 200 on playing style, 96
Saint-Lambert, Monsieur de, 92 on Wilhelm Friedemann Bach’s fingering, 96
Scarlatti, Alessandro, 86 Varwig, Bettina, 45
Scheibe, Johann Adoph Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen
as Enlightened thinker, 20, 35 (C. P. E. Bach), 132, 133
criticism of Bach, 19, 20, 21 Vogler, Johann Caspar, 118, 119
on ellipsis, 68 Walther, Johann Gottfried, 40, 235
praise for Mattheson’s rhetorical form, 35 on cantabile, 48
Schleuning, Peter, 80 on fugal structure, 42
Schmidt, Johann Christoph, 38, 39, 40 on metre
Schnellen. See keyboard technique 4/4, 54
Schröter, Christoph Gottlieb, 132 Quantitas Intrinseca Notarum, 55
on cross-relations, 172 triple, 74, 77
on dissonance treatment, 165 on stretto, 42
on parallel fifths, 132 Well-Tempered Clavier
on parallelism, 132 Book I
Schulenberg, David, 11, 216, 228 Fugue 1 in C major BWV 846/2, 44, 203
Schulz, Johann Abraham Peter, 61 Fugue 2 in C minor BWV 847/2
six-four chords, 167 cross-relations, 171
sixth scale step in minor key, 158, 167, 168, Fugue 4 in C sharp minor BWV 849/2, 203
169, 170, 181 Fugue 5 in D major BWV 850/2
slurring, 88, 99, 100, 101, 102, 115, 127 dissonance treatment, 160
slurs, 88, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 125, 188 Fugue 12 in F minor BWV 857/2, 203
Sorge, Georg Andreas, 132 Book II
on diminished triads, 67 Fugue 1 in C major BWV 870/2, 204
on dissonance treatment, 165 Fugue 7 in E flat major BWV 876/2, 204
Speer, Daniel, 32 Fugue 10 in E minor BWV 879/2, 44, 204
on fingering, 93 Fugue 11 in F major BWV 880/2, 44
on hand position, 105 Fugue 13 in F sharp major BWV 882/2, 204
on playing style and touch, 93 Fugue 18 in G sharp minor BWV 887/2, 204
Spiess, Meinrad, 40 Fugue 22 in B flat minor BWV 891/2, 204
on judgment in fugal composition, 44 Fugue 24 in B minor BWV 893/2, 204
on stretto, 42 Prelude 1 in C major BWV 870/1
Stauffer, George, 23 cross-relation, 171
Strunck, Nicolaus Adam, 83 dissonance treatment, 164
style durchgehende fifths, 144
galant, 18, 21, 66 Prelude and Fughetta in C major
strict and free, 159, 160 BWV 870a, 118, 119, 124
Telemann, Georg Philipp Wiemer, Wolfgang, 187, 188
Fugue 8 in D major from XX kleine Fugen Zedler, Johann Heinrich, 39
TWV 30 (parallel fifths), 134

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Johann Sebastian Bach’s Art of Fugue

Performance Practice based on German

Leuven University Press

ISBN 978 90 5867 940 6

PART TWO 175

APPENDIX 1: Glossary 231

on the precepts of rhetoric seems to be contradicted by a fair number of German

BD Bach-Dokumente – Fremdschriftliche und gedruckte Dokumente zur Lebensgeschichte

I n seventeenth-century and eighteenth-century Germany, a considerable number

Sebastian Bach’s down-to-earth attitude to music is further corroborated by the lack

8. BD III, no. 666: 89; English translation in NBR, no. 306: 307.

that Bach had no appreciable interest in or knowledge of rhetoric, from which he

Scheibe’s first disapproval of Bach’s musical style – Scheibe started a controversy

11. BD II, no. 417: 316; my English translation.

nichts anders, als Früchte eines niedergeschlagenen Fleißes, einer faulen

Die Theile und Vortheile, welche die Ausarbeitung eines musikalischen

Although some scholars have seen Birnbaum’s statement as indisputable proof of

13. Scheibe, 1745: 98; English translation in Yearsley, 2002: 96.

approach to those steps in an equally academical-restrictive manner, a further indi-

Was die Erfindung der Gedancken betrifft, so forderte er gleich anfangs

17. BD III, no. 803: 289; English translation in NBR, no. 395: 399.

he worked devoutly, governing himself by the content of the text.

er devot u. dem Inhalte gemäß gearbeitet habe.21

(Martin Luther, who decisively determined musical philosophy in Protestant

23. See also Bartel, 1997: 307-311.

# Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ b Ï ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏnÏ ÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏÏ

‹ Grä - ber tä - ten sich auf,

28. Bartel, 1997: 359.

Ï Ï Ï Ï#Ï ÏnÏ ÏÏ #Ï Ï#ÏÏ Ï Ï Ï # Ï nÏ ÏÏ Ï Ï

Example 2: Durch Adams Fall ist ganz verderbt BWV 637.

32. Bartel, 1997: 348.

The impact of noticeable or deviating aspects of the decoratio could even go

Example 4: Contrapunctus 8, bars 15-21a.

Example 5: Contrapunctus 14, bars 108-109.

That the application of rhetorical principles to music generally occurred in an adap-

34. Bartel, 1997: 350.

Unsre musicalische Disposition ist von der rhetorischen Einrichtung einer

Yet because Mattheson’s discussion on musical-rhetorical structure was an isolated

reluctance amongst composers towards such an approach (see above). Secondly, if

Es gehören sonst zu einer Composition dreyerley: Inventio, (Die Erfindung)

The author further illustrates that, in a well-worked-out piece, as in a rhe-

Fifthly, in a letter highly acclaiming Mattheson’s Kern, Scheibe specifically showered

41. Scheibe, 1738: 13; my English translation.

we have a phrase that is indeed comprehensible, yet after which another or

43. Kirnberger, 1776: 138; English translation in Beach-Thym, 1982: 404-405.

44. Forkel, 1788: 37; my English translation.

45. Schmidt/Mattheson, 1718/1725: 267-268; English translation in Walker, 2000: 313-314.

Bey Anhörung einer starck besetzten u. vielstimmigen Fuge, wuste er bald,

48. See also Walker, 1999: 171.

auch von Rechtswegen anbringen müste, u. bey solcher Gelegenheit, wenn

So to claim that structural-rhetorical ‘terminology is our only key to a close under-

51. BD III, no. 801: 285; English translation in NBR, no. 394: 397.

Along the same lines, Spiess advised that:

If ... the short, necessary interludes, episodes, transitions and connecting

Kommen ... hiezu die kleinen nothwendigen Zwischenspiele, Füllsteine,

If no episode precedes the cadence, one may introduce an episode rather

anderen Sachen, allezeit auf das Judicium oder Beurtheilungs-Krafft eines

Nevertheless, the concept of a generally increasing complexity did function recur-