Bach’s Suites for Solo Cello are no doubt among the most popular pieces of music ever written. Everybody has heard at least the Preludium of the G-major Suite, even if only as a soundtrack, unaware of what the music actually was. As for the cellist, these pieces are the backbone of the repertoire as they are part of the curriculum, usually obligatory at exams and auditions, and for most cellists they remain daily bread for the rest of their careers. One phenomenonn highlighting the spectacular popularity of these pieces came as an unexpected side effect of the pandemic: the flooding of social media with selfie camera recordings of  movements of the Bach suites.

If these pieces are indeed so popular, imagine, what would happen if one day a manuscript of a new cello suite was found on old, yellow sheets, deep in some library archives. For one thing, cellists all over the world would jump at it instantly (…and upload recordings straight to Facebook).

As a matter of fact, this is what I am about to present. A new cello suite, with notes by Bach. 

Most cellists are familiar with the fact that the Cello Suite No. 5 in C minor (BWW 1011) has a transcription for lute written by Bach himself (BWV 995). The lute has much richer possibilities of counterpoint and harmony than the cello, thus the comparison of the two versions provides us with a unique insight into Bach’s compositional methodology, as the material only latently present in the Cello Suite, can overtly be studied in the Lute Suite. This transcription turned my attention to Bach’s Lute Suites. I assumed that the logic reconstructed from the transcription of BWV 1011 to 995 can also be applied the other way round, to ‘reverse engineer’ a lute suite into a cello suite. Lute Suite BWV 997 has been particularly interesting for me as it contains a rare double subject fugue similar to C-minor Cello Suite. In my view, this adoption of Bachian logic has resulted in a convincing transcription of the piece into a cello suite. 

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Composing for a solo string instrument is a great challenge. As the violin, the viola, and the cello are primarily melody instruments, they can only create the illusion of harmony with a limited set of chords allowed by the anatomy of the hand, and with compositional techniques that create latent polyphony. The latter requires utmost compositional expertise, especially in the case of a piece of bigger proportions.

The first golden age of solo pieces for string instruments was the Baroque period, when ricercars and even complete suites were composed senza basso. J. S. Bach’s pieces of this kind represented a giant leap from the repertoire of the day. The Sonatas and Partitas for violin, and the Suites for Cello are complex, multifaceted pieces that are cornerstones of the repertoire, and to this day constitute inevitable parts of the everyday lives of string players. 

The peaks of these compositions are the fugues, representing the most complex genre of polyphony. Bach’s four string fugues, three in the Sonatas for Solo Violin, and one in the first movement of Cello Suite in C minor BWV 1011 (called Prelude, but, in fact, a prelude and fugue pair), stand out by far even from the hundreds of polyphonic movements in Bach’s oeuvre. The cello fugue is particularly exciting because the relatively large size of the cello limits the positions of the hand even more, which made Bach employ the ingenious solution of a double subject fugue, showing that a fugue for the cello is not only possible but can also fit the possibilities of the instrument naturally.

Above I outlined the principle of transcribing the Lute Suite, but one can’t emphasize enough the fact that not only does this transcription extend the repertoire with a seventh, complete cello suite but we also gain a string fugue, the fifth one of its kind.

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The Suite BWV 997 was presumably written around 1740, in Bach’s most mature, “Leipzig” style. Its Prelude bears a resemblance to solutions of Volume 2 of Wohltemperiertes Klavier, which was also composed around 1740. Quoting David Ledbetter, the renown Bach scholar: „Altogether this Prelude compares very favourably in its maturity of structural control and development with cognate Preludes in Book II of the Well-tempered Clavier.” This is important to emphasize because the piece is composed for an instrument that is more limited in several respects. The movement cites a motive of the first movement of Cantata Ich will den Kreutzstab gerne tragen, BWV 56. 

The second, fugue movement of the Suite is a double subject fugue, as mentioned above. Bach constructed the countersubject with incredible economy in such a way that it is also the inversion of the subject. As Eric Chafe says, „the continual rotation and overlap of descent and ascent as well as chromatic and diatonic elements allegorize the simultaneous juxtaposition of suffering and fulfillment that pervaded the Lutheran spiritual life.” The form of the movement is also exceptional in Bach’s oeuvre. Though he wrote several da capo fugues around 1740, this one is a palindrome (it sounds the same backward as forward); at the same time, it does not appear contrived or unnatural  Citing Ledbetter again: it „fully justifies its being singled out as the greatest Baroque fugue for the lute.”

The sweeping melodiousness and the sixteenth notes of the Sarabande, untypical of this movement type of French origin, make it sound more like an Air in the Italian manner; a sonata movement in Sarabande meter rather than a dance. The melodic line of the movement evokes the final chorus of Matthew Passion, Wir setzen uns mit Tränen nieder, thereby placing the Suite into the context of Christ’s suffering and death. 

The piece is rounded off by a Gigue and its Double, citing motives from the Prelude. The Gigue, with its dotted rhythm is similar to the Cello Suite in C minor, and the Double, with its virtuosity reminiscent of that of a keyboard toccata, make a spectacular final movement.

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But who actually needs a new Bach cello transcription anyway? In addition to the Cello Suites? As popular these pieces are, the performances often leave listeners disappointed. Convincing Bach interpretations, highlighting the structure of the pieces, can rarely be heard even at exams or concerts.

There are hardly any recordings that can be regarded as a gold standard. Cellists experiment with everything from different manuscript to bow strokes, cellos, strings, 415, 382, you name it, so most recordings aim to be relevant by some sort of a unique selling point external to the notes. Sometimes I have the impression that a pianist with a mild hangover can play these movements better at sight.

What could be the reason for that? One possibility is that a pianist planning to play e.g. the  Goldberg Variations has already studied the Two and Three Part Inventions, the Preludes and Fugues of Wohltemperiertes Klavier, later the English and French Suites and Partitas. Familiarity with Bach’s other pieces, especially the Cantatas, can also be a source of important insights for keyboardists. Naturally, a cellist can also listen to and study these pieces, and can even participate in performing Cantatas and other orchestral compositions, but usually this isn’t such a comprehensive experience as a solo performance, when the whole musical process is managed by a single performer. 

This transcription, and the many more to come therefore could primarily help us to get to know the context, i.e., Bach’s oeuvre and types of movements, and to better understand the structures of pieces, helping us understand what the primary important aspect of these pieces are.