Johann Sebastian Bach
Brandeburg Concertos

Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) is universally considered a genius, if not THE genius. A genius is not someone who stands out for their art, someone who surpasses all their direct competitors, a genius is an individual who goes beyond, who transcends, an author of compositions, whatever the field of action, that find no equal in the production of anyone else. Bach, now a synonym for perfection, was indeed THE genius. An unparalleled musical genius, Bach was at the same time a music professional, a craftsman at the service of art. Let's forget the stereotype of the genius individual, enclosed in themselves and devoted solely to celebrating their genius. Johann Sebastian Bach was a professional musician who "sold" his talent to the most diverse requesters; the Goldberg Variations were written to satisfy the prayers of a wealthy marquis, various cantata cycles were composed for the liturgies in the cathedral where the Leipzig master was an organist, and the same passion according to St. Matthew, perhaps the pinnacle of sacred art, had the same destination. During his stay in Köthen (1717-1723), with Margrave Ludwig of Brandenburg, Bach, in accordance with his role as konzertmeister, composed the Brandenburg Concertos. The model for the work is the tradition of the concerto grosso, as canonical is the division into three movements for each of the concertos; the first is an exception, presenting a fourth movement in the form of a minuet. Allegro, adagio or andante, and concluding allegro, this is the formal structure of the six Brandenburgs, works BWV 1046-1051. The same ensemble is as traditional as can be: basso continuo and harpsichord form the core harmonic section, with strings and winds dividing the solo parts. Presented this way, the work is configured as entertainment music, and neither more nor less that was precisely its purpose. It's easy to imagine the backdrop of a sumptuous late-baroque court, the many forms of noble fauna that populated it, and the banquets, dances, and receptions that animated it. But beware.

 It is precisely in this canonical context that the genius of Leipzig bursts in with all the power of an unparalleled talent. The Brandenburgische Konzerte are not just an excellent example of secular 18th-century music, such as any great music master could have written, they are beyond. They are the brightest portrait of a bygone era, the most vivid testimony of a courtly musical taste long surpassed but never forgotten. In these six concertos, Bach eternalizes his invention of counterpoint, crafting pieces that, resting on a varied yet solid harmonic section, rise to unexplored artistic heights. Let us consider the allegro of the second concerto: the leading instrument is the often overlooked trumpet in F, particularly challenging to play. The robust and silvery sound of the instrument stands out against a backdrop of strings, but never demanding an absolute leading role; in a continuous exchange of roles, we see the violins, which a moment earlier were merely chiseling the trumpet's virtuosity, rise to a leading role, now with decisive ensemble parts, now with sublime and polyphonic solos.

 The second concerto is just one example of Bach's art glorified in this work. None of the six concertos presents itself as a perfect but static unicum, but rather as a continuous dialogue, a very lively chromatic play between the different sections of the orchestra. We never have a single lead instrument for an entire piece, but we always find an incessant succession of musical pieces, masterfully blending one into another.

 Counterpoint is thus the fil rouge that characterizes all the pieces of the work, the most easily traceable feature and, at the same time, that touch of sublime perfection that harmonizes and completes every single part of the various movements. It is difficult, impossible rather, and almost useless, to attempt a "track by track" description of the Brandenburgs. Few and essential are the guidelines of the six concertos; infinite are the variations on the theme, the embellishments, the innovations. This way, we go from the martial predominance of the winds in the first allegro, to the playful chasing of the violins in the concluding allegro of the third concerto, to the redundant baroque strings in the fifth.

Having attempted a summary description of something indescribable, I can only signal, as an appendix, which editions of the Brandenburgs I feel I can recommend. My preference falls with full conviction on the recording by Concentus Musicus Wien, masterfully conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Teldec editions. A precious choice both for artistic merits and purely philological ones: this ensemble plays exclusively with period instruments, mid-18th century in this case, and this gives the performance a charm hard to find elsewhere. The fullness, the richness, the smoothness of the strings, the clarity of the winds, the majesty of the basses, and the metallic sweetness of the harpsichord will restore to you intact the courtly charm of a masterpiece unmatched and unmatchable, a worthy star in the firmament of Johann Sebastian Bach's masterpieces, Genius in saecula saeculorum.