According to one of Bach's first biographers, one autumn day in 1740, the Russian diplomat Count Karl von Keyserling appeared at Bach's house in Leipzig on a surprise visit. He was accompanied by his young personal keyboardist, a fourteen-year-old boy named Johann Gottlieb Goldberg, whom he intended to leave there to be instructed by the master. The count told Bach that he was ill and suffered from insomnia. Goldberg, who lived in the count's house, was to spend the night in the antechamber so that he would play for him if he woke up in the middle of the night after having fallen asleep listening to him. The Count also hinted that he could use some very varied variations, some quiet and calm, others a little more vivid. They would certainly alleviate his long sleepless nights.
Johann Sebastian accepted the commission, for which he was generously compensated: a golden cup full of gold louis, one hundred, to be exact. (To give us an idea of the amount, one hundred years later, one gold louis will be equivalent to twenty francs, the sum Chopin charged for his piano lessons).
The count never tired of the variations and took to calling them my variations. Following the aforementioned biographer, every sleepless night meant only one thing to young Goldberg: that the count's request reached his ears, "Dear Goldberg, please play one of my variations for me."
The Variations, in modern times
As with many of Bach's works, the Goldberg Variations were forgotten for almost two centuries. They were first performed in modern times by the Polish harpsichordist Wanda Landowska in 1933. From then on, the versions multiplied and, despite their high technical demands, in the second half of the 20th century they were part of the discography of a good number of pianists of our time.
A legendary recording was made in 1955 by the Canadian pianist Glenn Gould, a challenge he took up again in 1981. His versions, splendid, were never free of controversy because Gould was a brilliant pianist as well as controversial and somewhat extravagant ideas.
Gould, an enfant terrible
Glenn Gould (1932 - 1982)
Gould was born in Toronto in 1932. First, his mother taught him, then came the Royal Conservatory, and when he began to give concerts he did so as a complete and integral artist. His repertoire was somewhat particular, he could include Beethoven, of course (his last sonatas), but from there he would jump to Berg and Webern. He thought Chopin had not been a good composer, nor did he like Mozart. He claimed to have "a gap of a century bounded by The Art of Fugue on the one hand and Tristan and Isolde on the other; everything in between is a cause more for admiration than love."
The chair, a legend
The stool he used was a chair, which left him in front of the piano with his chin almost at keyboard height, and the one he moved to all his concerts. He liked to pout while he played, kept the beat with his free hand and hummed the melody, while balancing on his chair that allowed him to sit exactly fourteen inches off the floor. How much of that was genuine and how much was aimed at publicity purposes is unknown. By the same token, he had fanatical admirers as well as determined detractors.
Bach, a new approach
What is unquestionable is the expression of his outstanding musical personality. His recordings were a revelation to many. Gould exhibited a combination of personality, delicacy, charming rhythm and technical assurance that signified a new approach to Bach interpretation. His ability to separate contrapuntal lines and give each its proper weight was extraordinary. With Gould, you hear everything.
However, his concert career lasted only nine years. When he retired from the stage, Gould turned to recording. A heart attack cut short his new path. He died in 1982. He was only fifty years old.
Goldberg Variations, in G - BWV 988
This is one of the few works published during Bach's lifetime, in 1741. It consists of an aria and a set of 30 variations. As stated on the original title page, it is "exercises for keyboard consisting of an aria and several variations for harpsichord for two manual keyboards". (Let us note that on the piano, with its single keyboard, the work becomes somewhat more difficult). ) In live performances it is customary to reprise the initial aria at the end, in a shorter version, as if to remind the listener of where it all came from, although the variations do not rest on the initial melodic theme (a sarabande, in 3/4 rhythm) but on the bass line and the harmonic progression.
Theme and five variations
The complete work lasts ninety minutes if all repetitions are observed. The version presented here contains the aria and variations 1 to 5, from the 1981 recording, which was also Gould's last recording.
