Keynote Chronicles in Bach's Prelude No 1 in C Major
The Backstory
The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1: Prelude No. 1 in C major, BWV 846
I'm Johann Sebastian Bach, and this is the backstory of my Prelude No 1 in C Major. You'll discover how this prelude began as a shorter piece in a notebook for my son, long before it opened my collection of 24 preludes and fugues. On this site, my fellow composers and I also teach you to recognize our music the moment you hear it, so why not pay the Trainer a visit ?
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A Job With a Lot of Free Time
When I worked in Köthen as Kapellmeister to Prince Leopold, from 1717 to 1723, I had a lot of room to write keyboard music. This prelude comes from around then, though nobody knows for certain exactly where or when I wrote it. The best guess is 1722 or earlier, and some people wonder whether Weimar might be the place instead. I'm happy to leave the mystery as it is, because the music doesn't depend on the answer.A Lesson Plan for My Son
Before it ever became the opening of a grand collection, a shorter version of this piece lived in a little notebook I put together for my son Wilhelm Friedemann around 1720. That early version is catalogued as BWV 846a, and it's a bit more modest than the one you know. I wrote it as practice material, and I suspect it taught him a lot about keeping his hands calm and even. Plenty of parents hand a child a book of exercises, and I just happened to hand mine something rather lovely.The Fine Print on the Cover
When I gathered the finished pieces into a book, I wrote a title page that says the work is for the profit and use of the studious musical young. I added that it was also for the special diversion of those who are already skilful in this study. So the book works as a schoolroom for beginners and as a playground for experienced players at the same time. This prelude is a good example, because a beginner can play the notes while a master can spend years shaping them.Everybody Gets Invited to the Party
The word "well-tempered" in the title is about tuning, and it's one of the main reasons I wrote the whole book. It points to a system of twelve notes in which every key sounds in tune, so you can play in any of them without wincing. I never wrote down exactly which tuning I had in mind, so people still argue about it today. What I can say is that this friendly C major piece was only the first of many keys I wanted to show off.First in a Very Long Line
The prelude opens a set of 24 pairs of preludes and fugues, with one pair for each key. I wrote out the first book in my own hand and dated it 1722, so that part I can tell you with confidence. Starting with C major felt natural to me, because it's the key with no sharps or flats, like a clean sheet of paper. After that I worked my way through all the other keys, and I never ran out of ideas.Where Are the Dances?
If you expect a prelude to lead into a set of dances, you'll be surprised, because mine leads into a fugue. The fugue in C major runs for 27 bars, and it's a very different kind of piece from the prelude. Where the prelude flows along in one smooth stream, the fugue is a conversation in which one tune keeps being passed from voice to voice. I like to think of them as a pair, with the prelude clearing the air and the fugue getting down to business.The Bar That Isn't Mine
If you pick up certain printed editions, you may find an extra bar tucked in between bars 22 and 23. It's called the Schwencke bar, and it isn't in my own manuscript. Someone added it along the way, and it has stuck around in some editions ever since. I wrote the passage without it, so a player who finds it there is playing a slightly more crowded version of my music.A Famous Guest Appears
In 1853 the composer Charles Gounod improvised a melody that floats above my prelude, and it was arranged and published as "Méditation sur le 1er prélude de piano de S. Bach". Then in 1859 a version appeared with the Latin words of the Ave Maria set to that melody. That's why many people know the piece as the "Ave Maria", but I should be clear that the tune on top isn't mine. My part is the rippling accompaniment underneath, which turned out to be a very good foundation for someone else's song.Still Inspiring Composers
Long after my time, the composer Arvo Pärt built his Credo around my C major prelude. It pleases me that those rippling chords still give composers something to hold on to, like a sturdy railing on a staircase. The piece has never needed to be dressed up to be interesting, though, and that may be the secret of its long life. People keep finding new ways to listen to it, and I don't mind at all.Twenty Years Later
I came back to the idea about twenty years after the first book, and in 1742 I compiled a second book while I was living in Leipzig. It has another 24 pairs of preludes and fugues, so the key of every piece in the first book got a second visit. By then I knew a great deal more about what these pieces could do, and I used all of it. Still, the little rippling prelude in C major remains the doorway that lets everyone into the whole world of the collection.---
So that's the story of how a handful of rippling chords found their way into the world. Looking back, I find it a little amusing that a piece I may have written as a simple lesson for students has stayed with people for so long. Did you enjoy learning about the backstory of Prelude No 1 in C Major? I certainly hope so, because there's still plenty left to explore. The fugue that follows the prelude has a character all its own, and I'd love for you to hear how the two pieces speak to each other. Years after my time, Charles Gounod improvised a melody over these same chords, and that melody went on to become the well-known Ave Maria. Much later, Arvo Pärt built his Credo around the prelude, which shows how far these simple notes can travel. If any of this has made you curious, please click on the links provided and keep exploring Prelude No 1 in C Major. Listen to it again with what you now know, and see whether the notes sound a little different to you this time.