Preludes and Fugues for the Modern Pianist began on a solo bicycle pilgrimage to the land of J. Sebastian Bach,  as the master of counterpoint is called, in Thüringen. (There are many Johanns in the Bach family, so the middle  name is used for identification.) A mostly rural region in the former East Germany, Thüringen is hilly and green,  rainy and windy. Every village has at least one church, and every church has bells, as do many town halls. The sound of bells permeates the day; in spring, so does bird song. I cycled from Erfurt to Weimar, Dornheim (where  Bach was married to Maria Barbara) to Arnstadt, Eisenach (where he was born) to Mühlhausen, and back to  Erfurt—nearly 300 kilometers, plus a few wrong turns. 

Pilgrimage is common in Europe, although the bike Bach pilgrimage was my own design. I have studied and played Bach’s music for most of my life, beginning with the early Minuets, Inventions and Sinfonias. Later I  learned the Goldberg Variations, the French and English Suites, and both volumes of the Preludes and Fugues. I  have also studied and played the Op. 87 Preludes and Fugues of Dmitri Shostakovich, and Paul Hindemith’s  Ludus Tonalis. 

My musical brain thinks in counterpoint. In a nutshell definition, counterpoint consists of overlapped melodies,  each entering separately, like a round. The harmony of those melodies is created from the tunes’ vertical alignment. There are many rules to counterpoint, all of which can be stretched, if not broken. Melodies can be expanded, shortened, inverted, transposed, varied, and even played backwards. Entire movements can be  composed forward and backwards—this is called “crab canon.” Counterpoint can be written over a repeating  bass line, called “ground bass.” The art of counterpoint reached its undisputed pinnacle in the Baroque era under the pen of Johann Sebastian Bach. Almost all great composers could write a good fugue, even though the style fell somewhat out of favor after Bach’s time; part of my desire with this project is to spark renewed interest in this endlessly fascinating and satisfying form. 

Bach lived most of his life in a small geographic region, traveling by foot, horse, or wagon. My plan for the pilgrimage was to have a fun bicycle trip, but as the trip progressed I began to consider a composition project of my own, taking notes on the bells and birdsong. I completed my first prelude in a sketchbook along the way, and began to work seriously upon returning home. That was 2016. 

Later, after I had composed a couple of fugues and committed to the entire project, my husband selected each new movement (out of 48 total) from a meditation bowl—another bell, another movement. The entire composition took over two years to complete (with paper and pencil), another two years creating the printed score with the software Dorico, and yet another two years spent learning and recording the music in my home studio. The result is nearly three hours of recorded music and 198 pages of score. 

Often while composing, I used colored pencils to keep track of the melodies and their permutations. Rarely did I  change a melody to change a musical sound—the dissonances are well prepared and almost never startling to the ear. Within the confines of traditional key signatures, I freely explore both related and disparate keys. Each key has its own terrain, and on the piano, its own shape. 

As with the entire project, the level of difficulty is advanced-medium to early-advanced. Some movements are easier, and a few may stretch the more advanced player, but all of the music is playable by the serious student of piano or the accomplished recitalist. 

Upon reflection, I now hear much of this music as a soundtrack to the bicycle pilgrimage. The rhythms are often syncopated and infectious, sometimes they even swing. There are shifting accents, irregular phrase lengths, polytonal and modal melodies. The pianist must occasionally play with crossed hands or on three staves, and sometimes (for me) it is a finger-buster! But as I have learned the music again and again, I am happy to say that it is always fun. Learning these Preludes and Fugues requires discipline, dedication, and a willingness to explore the very nature of consonance and dissonance. 

Lots of fun to play, and a joy to hear, many times over. 

Scores are available in both pdf. format and in hard copy, 8-1/2 x 11 pages, soft bound with wire binding.  For more info, get in touch with me by email: lynettewestendorf@gmail.com.