Crab: Don't tell me it's a recording of Bach playing his own works for harpsichord!
Achilles: I'm sorry, but I have to, for that is indeed just what it is! This is a set of two records of Johann Sebastian Bach playing all of his Well-Tempered Claiver. Each record contains one of the two volumes of the Well-Tempered Claiver; that is to say, each record contains twenty-four preludes and fugues--one in each major and minor key.
Crab: Well, we must absolutely put one of these priceless records on, immediately! And how can I even thank the two of you?
Tortoise: You have already thanked us plentifully, with this delicious tea which you have prepared.
(The Crab slides one of the records out of its jacket and puts it on. The sound of an incredibly masterful harpsichordist fills the room, in the highest imaginable fidelity. One even hears--or is it one's imagination?--the soft sounds of Bach singing to himself as he plays...)
Anteater: Have you ever noticed how in the pieces the prelude always sets the mood perfectly for the following fugue?
Crab: Yes. Although it may be hard to put into words, there is always some subtle relation between the two. Even if the prelude and fugue do not have a common melodic subject, there is nevertheless always some intangible abstract quality which underlies both of them, binding them together very strongly.
Tortoise: And there is something very dramatic about the few moments of suspense hanging between prelude and fugue--that moment where the theme of the fugue is about to ring out, in single tones, and then to join with itself in ever-increasingly complex levels of weird, exquisite harmony.
Achilles: I know what you mean. There are so many preludes and fugues which I haven't yet gotten to know, and for me that fleeting interlude of silence is very exciting; it's a time when I try to second-guess old Bach. For example, I always wonder what the fugue's tempo will be: allegro or adagio? Will it be in 6/8 or 4/4? Will it have three voices or five?--or four? And then, the first voice starts....Such an exquisite moment.
Crab: Ah, yes, well do I remember those long-gone days of my youth, the days when I thrilled to each new prelude and fugue, filled with the excitement of their novelty and beauty and the many unexpected surprises which they conceal.
Achilles: And now? Is that thrill all gone?
Crab: It's been supplanted by familiarity, as thrills always will be. But in that familiarity there is also a kind of depth, which has its own compensations. For instance, I find that there are always new surprises which I hadn't noticed before.
Achilles: Occurrences of the theme which you had overlooked?
Crap: Perhaps--especially when it is inverted and hidden among several other voices, or where it seems to come rushing up from the depths, out of nowhere. But there are also amazing modulations which it is marvelous to listen to over and over again, and wonder how old Bach dreamt them up.
Achilles: I am very glad to hear that there is something to look forward to, after I have been through the first flush of infatuation with the Well-Tempered Claiver--although it also makes me sad that this stage could not last forever and ever.
Crab: Oh, you needn't fear that your infatuation will totally die. One of the nice things about that sort of youthful thrill is that it can always be resuscitated, just when you thought it was finally dead. It just takes the right kind of triggering from the outside.
-The Mind's I, Doug Hofstadter, page 154-155
Thank heavens for us 'right kind of trigger' from the outside!Like Tortoise's ACOUSTICO-RETRIEVAL machine that found the actual sounds of Bach playing his 24 for the newly well tuned piano, I have used Givnology's art sponge to share this dialog with you - us - here!
Basically I found this interesting, the descriptions of Bach's Well-Tempered Claiver, how to listen to it, and the flushing infatuations!
Personally, some of his preludes I totally love! Fugues - well, rounds, rondos, they are sort of out-of-style, you know? Many melodies on one voice... genius, but we like one pure lovely voice nowadaze...
Like Vicky, I need to come back and ponder over it a bit longer.
