Partita No. 2 for Violin in D Minor

With its sturdy “Allemanda”, skipping “Corrente”, dolorous “Sarabanda”, and flowing “Giga”, the D minor Partita impeccably conforms to what might be expected of it as the time-honoured dance sequence of the French Suite purposefully unfolds. What happens next, however, is as unexpected as it is emotionally overwhelming: Bach crowns an already imposing edifice with a set of 64 variations, by degrees intimate, confiding, exuberant and hair-raisingly virtuosic. Built over a recurring harmonic pattern spelled out initially in anguished chords, the “Ciaccona” organises itself into three extended paragraphs around the solace of a beatific central section in D major which becomes steadily more animated. With hindsight it’s as if everything in the Partita has been leading to this movement. The “Sarabanda” not only prefigures aspects of the “Ciaccona”’s harmonic preoccupations but points to some of its melodic concerns. And the “Giga”, in a long-limbed 12/8, avoids stealing the “Ciaccona”’s thunder, remaining deliberately smooth of contour. Clues scattered throughout the Partita and enshrined in certain chorale references suggest there’s a subtext at work relating to Christ’s Passion. Yet closer to home it may well be that, written after Bach returned from a trip to discover his wife had died and was already buried, shot through with thoughts of death and resurrection, the “Ciaccona” also serves as a grief-laden tombeau to her memory. About J.S. Bach’s Partitas and Sonatas for Solo Violin Although Bach was arguably the pre-eminent keyboard exponent of his age he began his career as a violinist. He preferred to direct the orchestra at Köthen from the string section, and, thanks to friendship with the likes of Westhoff and Pisendel, understood the instrument inside out. Just how profound was that understanding can be deduced from the Sei Solo (Six Solos) for violin without bass accompaniment that were assembled in a manuscript dated 1720. Pinnacles of the German violin tradition, the pieces cast an inquisitive eye on developments in Italy, comprising of three Partitas that acknowledge the dance-led sovereignty of the French Suites, and three Sonatas laid out along Italian “Church” lines alternating movements slow(ish) and fast.