Reflections on Prelude and Fugue XXII, Book One, from J.S. Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier.

Johann Sebastian Bach was a German composer of the late Baroque period. He is widely known as an organist, but Bach mastered many musical instruments, making his output as a composer conspicuous and diverse. He is a prolific musician whose works have become the bedrock of Western music tradition, inspiring generations of musicians to come.

Hans von Bülow used to say: "The 'Well-Tempered Clavier' is the Old Testament, Beethoven's sonatas the New. We must believe in both."

It might seem exaggerated, even reverent at times, but considering the significant role that Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier has played in the musical education of keyboard instrumentalists. The preludes and fugues of the "Well-Tempered Clavier" encompass an entire cosmos of compositional elements and musical themes, representing an excellent metaphor for what unity in diversity signifies. Bach not only presented the sum total of keyboard art of his time but also anticipated its future evolution. His treatment of tonalities marked a turning point in the history of music.

Certainly, Bülow is absolutely right, and I realized this in many Bach compositions that I studied during my education, even though when I encountered Prelude and Fugue XXII from Book I (BWV 867) in B-flat minor, I couldn't help but deeply appreciate the genius, uniqueness, depth, and relevance of what Bach wrote.

Written in the Arioso style, this Prelude is filled with a sense of deep longing well-expressed by the theme carried by the treble part and sustained by the wrenching and dissonant tension in the harmony. The structure of the piece is bipartite divided by a cadenza. The swaying rhythm creates a meditative atmosphere giving plenty of scope to the sometimes unexpected twists that conceal in its melancholic beauty how the accompanying chords are constructed.

A rare five-voice fugue then follows the Prelude —there are only two in the entire Well-Tempered Clavier with the same number of voices. Here Bach follows thoroughly the rules of the early Renaissance style. In fact, all of the five voices in the fugue are weaved together and overlap and just before the end, Bach accumulates the tension again by having the five parts play the theme once more in rapid succession. In the final moments, the five voices enter a thrilling stretto in which they seem to pile on top of each other, bringing this sublime, contrapuntal drama to a close.