Fugal affairs

That is to say to the Wigmore Hall to hear a performance of Bach's 'The Art of Fugue', aka 'Die Kunst der Fuge', from the Quartetto di Cremona. To be found at reference 1, but not in the archive, which suggests that we have not heard them before, despite their run of twenty years.

A slightly damp start to the expedition, but we made it to the station without unfurling the folding umbrellas. To be greeted by a Waitrose trolley on Station Approach, something of a rarity these days, but out of bounds on an occasion of this sort. Gone by the time that we got back.

Puzzled by the opening of the green panels to the flats over the station concourse. If they opened like windows, why were they not like the other windows? Did the planners insist on the facade being broken up in this way to provide a bit of visual variety?

Then there was the puzzle of the crooked down pipes from the ancient roof over the steps up to the platform from the tunnel, but the snap seems to have gone missing, so that will have to wait for another day.

Then there was the puzzle of the irritatingly loud and eager female voice doing all manner of platform announcements. Most of which were quite unnecessary - while the one or two which might have been informative were, contrariwise, unintelligible.

A busy train, including some cycles, some of which were quite large. Then we had football supporters at Waterloo, probably on their way to Wembley, possibly for the 'SKY BET championship play-off final: Leeds United v Southampton'.

Bun at Olle & Steen better than the time before in that it was slightly more cooked.

Wigmore Hall not quite full, but near enough to be very enthusiastic at the end.

A performance which was not quite in numerical order, involved some standing up and sitting down, some changes of instrument and some descant recorder - very much the sort of thing that one used to cut one's musical teeth on in my primary school days. Dolmetsch descant, in yellow as I recall, although dark brown seems to be the form now and the snap above was the best that Bing could do. And the case for mine was much more utilitarian. Maybe even something made by my mother. I found the changes both good and bad: the change of tone was good but the disturbance to the flow was bad. Furthermore, the various elements were not played in numerical order.

At some points in the performance, there seemed to be an awful lot going on - from a musical point of view. Some much so, that it was almost just noise, but if one was able to maintain concentration there really was a tremendous amount of music going on. Almost awe inspiring. Something of the same sort as happens, with me anyway, in some of Beethoven's late quartets. Maybe music at the edge of what this brain can cope with.

After all this, we settled for a light lunch at the top of John Lewis. In my case something Korean and savoury, possibly veggie.

Two girls very quick to offer us their seats on the crowded tube at Oxford Circus and we just made the 14:06 from Vauxhall. A train which included a young lady, probably nearly twenty, in full war-paint. I thought possibly someone from our art college, but she did not get off at Epsom, so she must have been a country girl up in town for some reason. Perhaps a left-over from Saturday night?

Strolled home to further investigate fugal affairs. Taking in the large ivy leaves spotted just before the West Hill rail bridge.

Bachtrack could not offer any further performances at reference 2, or at least none which were any use to me, which I found a little surprising for what is now a very famous piece. Lying dormant on the composer's death for years notwithstanding. The nearest I got was keyboard versions at Berlin (the week after next) and Paris. There another one in London, but it is a late night version at the Proms in September. So what with being late night and the Albert Hall, a bit of a wash out.

But I did turn up references 3 and 4 in the way of discs, both with extensive explanatory notes. Clearly time to give one or other of them a go. 

Also references 5 and 6, from which I learn something of the work and its history, at least to the extent of seeing much discussion about compositional technique, scoring, batting order and performance. Tovey is clear that the work was originally intended, in so far as it was intended for performance as a whole at all, for a keyboard, in a couple of places for two keyboards. Not a string thing at all. I expect there was talk of organs and harpsichords with more than one keyboard, but I did not come across it.

Unusually, gmaps fails to turn up the square containing the OUP offices in the City. I thought bomb damage but Bing turns up a more prosaic story: 'Front of Amen House, Warwick Square, City of London, with a Ford 10 parked outside. It was built in the late seventeenth century but extensively altered and eventually demolished in 1970. The brick built building was home to the Oxford University Press between 1924 and 1965'.

All taken over from my father, whom I believe held the work in very high regard. Maybe even the greatest piece of music ever written.

PS 1: for some reason, more bother with <p> and <div> tags triggered by this post. Unresolved.

PS 2: a little later: just been very impressed by the first two parts of reference 4, with assistance from reference 5 - even if my music reading is nowhere near really up to it. The clarity of the harpsichord keyboard rules! The (relative) mush of strings out!

References

Reference 1: https://www.quartettodicremona.com/.

Reference 2: https://bachtrack.com/.

Reference 3: Die Kunst der Fuge - Münchinger: Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra, Decca - 1966.

Reference 4: Die Kunst der Fuge - Gustav Leonhardt, Cembalo, Harmonia Mundi, Oxfam - 1969.

Reference 5: Die Kunst der Fuge, edited with apparatus - Donald Francis Tovey - 1931 (?). From the days when OUP had offices in both Soho Square and Amen House in the City.

Reference 6: A companion to 'The Art of Fugue' - Donald Francis Tovey - 1931. A very slim volume.