My piano teacher, a Japanese pianist, always told me that classical music is best when played “with colors.” For years, I have tried to incorporate that into my own performances. A lot of Bach’s works, although ingenious in composition, have deemed by many as unexciting or boring. It is true that in front of an amateur audience, one would rather wish to play pieces by Chopin or Liszt for a stronger impression. Since Angela Hewitt is a very well-known classical pianist, I have been looking forward to how she interprets this very intricate piece of music.
Prior to the performance at 92Y, I read an article about how Ms. Hewitt was scared to learn the The Art of Fugue. As she stated during the concert, the piece could have been written for mathematical reasons more than for musical reasons. The sheet music for the piece is very precise, but it does leave a relative amount of choice up to the performer. It was interesting to me how she made all the choices, Contrapunctus VI in particular, where she explained she chose not to follow exactly the Stylo Francese. I also noticed that she made Contrapunctus III more bouncy than it was written. Ms. Hewitt described the piece as “couldn’t be further from boring.” I was excited to see how it plays out.
If I were to assign a color to this, it would be a maroon/burgundy color that gradually turns white. Fugues are repetitive. From my experience, the short themes are not without meaning. Though they almost always sound depressing (I have never heard a happy fugue), the Art of Fugue piece very much sounded like storytelling. Ms. Hewitt did not believe that at the end of his life, Bach would write something boring. Similarly, the piece felt ancient to me not due to the time period it written in, but rather it felt like an old person recounting the story of his life in the realest way possible. It had an interesting and simple start, and gradually gets more and more complicated. Contrapunctus XI, XII and XIII were written for three voices which was quite difficult to accomplish on a single keyboard. The canons were more soothing and calm than the fugues, which I believe is the reason some people fell asleep. I can see the colors getting paler and paler until it reaches a shade of white, though it never fades into the background. The white was still the main dish.
I don’t know how anyone else felt about the unfinished fugue, but to me the point the music stopped felt ghastly. Ms. Hewitt warned beforehand that it was likely to be a quadruple fugue and stopped just before the voices came together. We may never know if the incompletion was intended, but the end did feel like death to me. It was not the death of the person telling the story, but rather my own death. I was reminded of how The Sopranos ended at the moment the music stopped. The last piece she played after the silence, although beautiful, did not feel like the ending to The Art of Fugue or very relevant to it. I was still recovering from the shock of end of the fugue.
Overall, The Art of Fugue progressed similarly to how some people would describe the taste of wine that has been stored for many years. It is sweeter than usual but also more acidic. I’m not sure if that is my thing in particular but I’m sure it suits some people’s tastes. Ms. Hewitt was an extraordinary performer and being able to enjoy the 90 minutes of music was a very great experience.
As someone who has played many diverse pieces on the piano just as you have, I was intrigued by your analysis of the duality of music for having both a mathematical form and a correlation to colors, altogether creating a unique form of art. Looking back at Angela Hewitt’s grand performance of The Art of Fugue, I agree that each Contrapunctus served as a piece to the intricate story that was slowly unfolding. Between each note precisely played and personal emotions added, Hewitt did present us with an evolving piece of Bach’s life, displaying a work that was truly never finished. Referring to your assignment of a color shade to each moment of the performance, I also recognize that, “the colors [were] getting paler and paler until [they] reach[ed] a shade of white, though [they] never fade[d] into the background.” The latter part of your statement remained with me as I continued reading your review, adding to your thought-provoking idea that the storyteller never died, but rather the audience was exposed to a shocking interruption. I similarly admired Hewitt’s talent, perseverance (fluently played a piece she once feared), and elegance as I observed her becoming one with the music, sharing its never-ending beauty with us. Lastly, I found your comparison of The Art of Fugue to aged wine to be quite interesting, highlighting that each one changes upon the progression of time and ends up catering to particular tastes. Just as you, I enjoyed the experience of being surrounded by the harmonious and classical melodies once composed by Bach and presently transmitted by Angela Hewitt. From now on, I will start to attribute colors to the music I play and hear, modifying the way I have been absorbing the magic created by this art type.