
Preludes began life as intonazione, short, improvised phrases that came before pieces played on the lute, harpsichord or organ. They established key and tempo, and were an opportunity to check the tuning of the instruments. (Lutists also used them to establish the acoustics of the room they were playing in.) In the seventeenth century intonazione grew into improvisatory pieces, unpredictable in form and content (rather like fantasias and inventions, which I shall explore next year).
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)
Louis Couperin was the first person to embrace the genre and harpsichord preludes were used by numerous composers until the first half of the eighteenth century, including François Couperin and Jean-Philippe Rameau. While the preludes of southern and central German composers remained improvisatory in form, with little or no counterpoint, northern German composers such as Buxtehude and Bruhns combined improvised passages with strict contrapuntal writing (usually short fugues).
But it was JS Bach, music's most sublime creative genius, who bequeathed one of the great monuments of western classical music with his Forty-Eight Preludes and Fugues. Not that this should surprise us. Despite his vast output, Bach sustained a level of musical inspiration that continues to amaze. With the exception of opera, he composed towering masterpieces in almost every major Baroque genre, including sonatas, concertos and cantatas, and a huge number of choral and organ works.
The Forty-Eight Preludes and Fugues are actually two different, complementary collections that span almost his entire working life. Each consists of twenty-four preludes and fugues, in every major and minor key. The first set was compiled in 1722, while Bach was working as Kapellmeister for Prince Leopold at Köthen, and the second in 1744, during his time as Cantor at St. Thomas, Leipzig. Neither was published until 1801, though manuscript copies circulated widely among his pupils and peers.
Bach was the first person to fully establish the prelude as a piece that could either introduce another work, or stand entirely on its own. The rules of classical harmony were being established during his lifetime, and he wanted to prove that a keyboard instrument could play in all of the keys of the chromatic scale. But he did not exhaust the possibilities of the form: many years later the prelude was to experience a renaissance, not as an introduction but as a composition in its own right.
On CD: The Well-Tempered Clavier, Angela Hewitt (Hyperion CDA 677414)
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849)
Legend, largely propagated by George Sand, had it that Chopin wrote his 24 Préludes Op. 28 in Mallorca. They were partly composed there (he liked to escape the damp French winters with Sand and her children), but he began sketching them in Paris in 1836. Like Bach's preludes, Chopin's are varied in form. However, he re-established the genre's independence by separating it from the fugue. This caused considerable confusion at first: preludes to what, critics demanded to know?
They have a feverish quality but are also darkly meditative, feeding on the tension created between the singing quality of the right hand, with its sweet laments and tortured recitatives, and the obstinacy of the left hand. The extreme sensibility of the Préludes, with their allusions, memories and nostalgia, perhaps makes them among Chopin's most intimate musical thoughts. The famous, and much-played, fourth Prélude was performed on the organ of the Madeleine at his funeral.
None of the pieces are longer than ninety bars, and the shortest is a mere thirteen bars in total. Schumann described them as "sketches, beginnings of études, or ruins, all disorder and wild confusions." Liszt was rather more enthusiastic, describing them as "compositions of an order entirely apart." Their structure is indeterminate, and they certainly suggest much more than they say ("At once twenty-four small pieces and one large one", as Jeffrey Kresky so succinctly put it).
The Préludes should be relieved of the Romantic burden of the 'descriptive' titles often applied to them: they are, above all, works of pure music which defy classification. A good example is the so-called Raindrop prelude. Contrary to popular belief, it was not composed in a monastery in Mallorca (inspired by rain drops falling on the roof). As Jeremy Siepmann proves in his fascinating biography, Chopin: The Reluctant Romantic, it was completed before the composer went to Mallorca.
On CD: 24 Préludes (Op. 28), Claudio Arrau (Philips 426 634-2)
Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943)
Rachmaninov's 24 Preludes are drawn from three sources: a piece published separately as Op. 3 No. 2, the ten Op. 23 Preludes of 1903/4 and the thirteen Op. 32 Preludes of 1910. The practice of composing preludes in all twenty-four keys became increasingly popular after Chopin's were published in 1839, yet it seems Rachmaninov did not originally plan to write a 'complete' set of twenty-four. His preludes certainly take a very different direction to Chopin's, being much freer in their tonal ordering.
As a genre, the piano prelude was common in Russian music of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The famous Op. 3 No.2 in C sharp minor was composed in 1892, as part of five Morceaux de Fantaisie. It typifies Rachmaninov's piano style, but is notable more for its lavish effects than its content: a glacial theme, a central agitato with a stormy chromatic motif and a cascade of thundering fortissimo chords. He often played it as a popular encore at the end of his concerts.
In 1903, after marrying his cousin, Natalia Satin (a graduate of the Moscow Conservatory), Rachmaninov composed the 10 Preludes Op. 23. Numbers one, two and five were premiered that year, and the remaining seven completed soon after. The recurrence of stepwise motion, common chords between adjacent preludes and the relationship between the first and last preludes (both marked largo, with the latter in the parallel major of the former) suggest the works could perhaps be played as a set.
Seven years later Rachmaninov did decide to complete the set, composing the 13 Preludes Op. 32 (in the remaining keys). Some, especially those based on a motoric motion, are similar to Chopin's Études. Supported by sonorous harmonies, these virtuoso character pieces flaunt his gift for melodic writing of the highest order. What revolutionary Russia considered a 'decadent attitude' the world continues to applaud, the tenth being perhaps the finest example of the prelude genre.
On CD: 24 Preludes (Op. 23 and Op. 32), Vladimir Ashkenazy (Decca 443 841-2)
Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975)
Shostakovich's outstanding solo piano compositions are undervalued I think, too often overlooked in favour his masterful cycles of symphonies and string quartets. The 24 Preludes Op. 34, composed in 1933, are the modern equivalent of Chopin and Scriabin's work in the genre. They're frequently dismissed as 'light' and not terribly compelling, but I think they have much to offer. The musical language, for all its harmonic diversity, remains sober as Shostakovich returns to tonality.
Their theme is perhaps the upheaval of stability, as musical lines become fractured and change direction impetuously and without warning. Confusion is the order of the day, and Shostakovich captures this perfectly! Mystery is one of the common links among the pieces, as well as an industrial-strength brutality. Other prevalent features include a brash demeanour, biting sarcasm, mercurial mood swings and a playful streak; Shostakovich can be tender, but that can change in an instant.
Another strong trait is their sparkling, fresh nature, a quality not often found in the 24 Preludes & Fugues Op. 87. Composed in 1950/51, they are dedicated to Tatyana Nikolaieva (gold medallist in the 1950 International Bach Competition). Undoubtedly the pinnacle of Shostakovich's composition for the piano, he creates a Russian echo of the Forty Eight Preludes and Fugues (though building his tonal scheme around the circle of fifths, rather than Bach's chromatic progression).
The pieces vary in pace, length and complexity. In some cases a prelude and fugue in the same key will display a family resemblance, with the prelude sketching out the theme of the fugue. Other pairs are notable for their contrasts. Shostakovich is believed to have written hidden messages into his compositions, but these particular pieces are never cited as 'protest pieces' by musicologists. They are pure music, and rewarding to any ear willing to reconcile the twentieth century to Bach.
On CD: Preludes & Fugues (Op. 87), Tatyana Nikolaieva (Hyperion CDA 664413)
Claude Debussy (1862-1918)
For Bach, the keyboard prelude was an approach to a fugue. But for Chopin it was an approach to nothing at all, and Debussy followed him in this (though it might be said that the Debussy prelude is an approach to the subject evoked by its title). The titles given to the pieces, such as La Cathédrale Engloutie (The Sunken Cathedral), La Fille aux Cheveux de Lin (The Girl with the Flaxen Hair) and Feux d'Artifice (Fireworks), express their essence intuitively rather than descriptively.
Unlike Chopin, Debussy chose not follow a set pattern of key signatures when writing his Préludes. But he is undoubtedly Chopin's most significant successor in the genre. Debussy admired Chopin very much, even producing an edition of his piano works, and I suspect he modelled his own (harmonically very different) music on the older composer. Common to both are telling harmonic 'switches', quick mood shifts, a love of the exotic and, at times, a breakup of tonality.
Debussy grouped his 24 Préludes into two books. The first was written quickly, between December 1909 and February 1910, but the second took three years to complete (from 1910 to 1912). The first is the more accessible of the two, and the most popular with pianists and audiences. Each piece is a microcosm of his musical world, and together they form a coherent whole. They virtually define what we mean by Impressionism, and achieve a creative culmination in their poetic evocation of atmosphere.
The Préludes in the second book each depict a given subject. For example, the inspiration for the sixth Prélude was Général 'Ed' Lavine, a clown who worked at the Médrano Circus in Paris. It is marked 'Dans le style et le mouvement d'un Cakewalk'. Written in two-time, with syncopated right-hand passages set against a steady, march-like left hand, it clearly shows the influence of the ragtime cakewalk style, introduced to Europe in the early twentieth century by John Philip Sousa's band.
On CD: Préludes Books 1 & 2, Samson François (EMI CZS 568988-2)
Olivier Messiaen (1908-1992)
Messiaen's cycle of Eight Préludes was published in 1929, when he was just twenty years old. They stand as his first truly original compositions for the piano. Already obsessed with modes and colour, the musical language of these pieces displays great maturity (and the evocation of his spiritual world makes significant demands on the performer!). Messiaen was a student of Paul Dukas at the Paris Conservatoire, and his master's influence can be clearly heard in these short pieces.
Debussy is also present, not only in the impressionistic titles but in the luminous harmonic clouds, the pianistic swathes and the arabesques of colour. Much of what was to come in later years is already present, particularly the complex, almost tactile chord structures that he builds and the palindromic rhythms. Messiaen experienced a mild form of synaesthesia, which manifested itself as a perception of colours when he heard certain harmonies (particularly harmonies built from modes).
The first of the Préludes, La Colombe (The Dove), hints at orange and violet and is marked 'slow, expressive, with a very soft sonority'. Chant d'extase dans un Paysage Triste (Ecstatic Singing on a Sad Voyage) is coloured grey, mauve and Prussian blue. Le Nombre Léger (The Light/Nimble Number) has an agile character, implied by the title. In contrast, the slow fourth Prélude, Instants Défunts (Defunct Moments), has a curious sense of suspended time with its grey, mauve and green colours.
Les Sons Impalpables du Rêve (The Impalpable Sounds of Dreaming) is the most personal of the Préludes, and was Messiaen's favourite. Cloches d'angoisse et Larmes d'adieu (Bells of Anguish and Tears of Farewell) symbolizes spiritual epiphany, and is the longest of the set. The final two Préludes are Plainte Calme (Calm Lamentation), a simple song tinged with nostalgia, and Un Reflet dans le Vent (A Reflection in the Wind), full of virtuosity and exuberant passagework.
On CD: Eight Préludes etc., Yvonne Loriod (Erato 4509-96222-2)
UPDATE:
Steven Osborne's new recording of the Rachmaninov Preludes will be released on the Hyperion label on May 1st. He has written about the project on his blog.