J. S. Bach's 6 S u i t e s i n s p i r a t i o n
I often gather these six Suites into a single concert—
a quiet pilgrimage.
Nothing more than the cello, the listeners, and the music itself, setting out together and finding the path as it unfolds.
Another journey lives within this music.
It began in December 2022 on a long road from Arnstadt to Lübeck—
snow underfoot,
my cello carried like a companion on my back.
Along the way, I gathered fragments: images caught in the cold light, stories shaped by silence and distance.
Now they return—
woven between Préludes and dances, echoing that solitary passage.
To form something like a personal voice in this music —music that still breathes in 2026, yet was born in a world long vanished— I find myself drawn back, again and again, to a growing constellation of traces, sources that whisper across time.
Here they are.
Jean-Claude Veilhan 'Les règles de l'interprétation musicale à l'époque baroque' (1977)
A (French) book about the (strict) rules to perform baroque music, drawn from contemporary sources. Each time when I read it, I realize again that there's still so much to discover, such as the fascinating principle of inégalité. When practicing I sometimes play some of the Suite mouvements inégal, such as the second Gavotte in the 5th Suite, but I haven't fully explored this path during concerts.
Ruth Tatlow 'Bach's numbers' (2015)
A must-read for anyone who plays Bach's music, in English.
Wim Faas 'Dansen met Bach' (2013)
Amusing and informative background to the different dancce-forms used by J.S. Bach, in Dutch.
David Gordon 'The little Bach book. An eclectic Omnibus of Notable Details about the Life and Times of the esteemed and highly respected Johann Sebastian Bach' (2017)
The fascinating social history behind the composer we all like to perform. How was it to use candles at that time? What about feathers used to write his music? And so on. A precious little book, in English.
Every time again, it's only after having read a few phrases of Quintilianus that I feel how to play Bach's music. This clear image fades again rather quickly, so I admit that I need a regular shot of Institutio Oratoria in order to perform Bach's music.
This is what Johann Matthias Gesner writes in a footnote to his edition, addressed to Quintilian:
"This, Fabius, you would consider utterly insignificant if, recalled from the underworld, you could see Bach—if only him, for not long ago he was my colleague at the Thomasschule in Leipzig—how he plays the keyboard with both hands and all his fingers, an instrument that encompasses many citharas. Or that fundamental instrument, whose countless pipes are supplied with air by bellows: how he rushes over the keys with both hands, and there with rapid feet, and by himself produces as it were masses of very different yet fitting notes.
If you saw him, I say, how—unlike many of your cithara players and countless flautists—he not only performs a single melody, but attends to all at once, and encourages thirty or forty musicians to follow rhythm and measure: one with a nod, another by stamping his foot, a third with a threatening finger; one in the highest register, another in the lowest, a third in the middle.
How, entirely alone amidst the loudest passages, although he himself has the most difficult part, he still notices when something is wrong; how he keeps them all together, offers help everywhere, and when they are overcome by doubt, immediately restores order; how he feels the beat in his arms and legs, examines harmonies with a keen ear, and produces all voices with his own limited throat.
In all other things an ardent admirer of antiquity, I believe that our friend Bach alone—and those like him—surpasses Orpheus many times and Arion at least twentyfold."
To illustrate this, here's is a list of terms from Quintilian's work that I relate to Bach's music:
Attentus (attentiveness): the listener must be rendered attentive, well-disposed, and receptive in the introduction
Praedictio (anticipation): a form of foretelling
Musical keys
The following section discusses historical descriptions of musical keys, applied to the cello suites (BWV 1007–1012). It compiles opinions from theorists (17th–19th centuries) about the expressive character of tonalities such as G major, D minor, C major, etc. These descriptions associate keys with emotions like joy, melancholy, heroism, tenderness, or solemnity.
Across these sources, the tonalities consistently interpreted through the lens of affective theory, in which keys are endowed with distinct emotional, symbolic, and rhetorical qualities. While earlier authors often link tonalities to cosmological or metaphysical systems, later writers emphasize psychological and aesthetic effects, revealing a gradual shift in musical thought from speculative symbolism to expressive subjectivity.
Suite No. 1 in G Major
Abraham Bartolus (1614) associates the key of G major with Mercury. He argues that more compositions have been written in this key than in any other, since scholars and artists are believed to share the nature of Mercury and to be strongly influenced by this planet. Composers, often unconsciously, are thus drawn to G major and, through their works, pay homage to Mercury as their patron. Bartolus finds it both amusing and remarkable that nature exerts such a subtle influence on human beings.
Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1690) characterizes the key as "gently joyful," while Jean Rousseau (1691) suggests that certain keys, including G major, are particularly suited to tender expression. Charles Masson (1697) describes it as "cheerful and brilliant."
According to Johann Mattheson (1713), G major possesses both richness of suggestion and brilliance, making it suitable for both serious and joyful contexts. Athanasius Kircher (1650) calls it "amorous and sensual," while elsewhere describing it as a "faithful guardian of moderation." Similarly, Corvinus associates it with joy and love. Jean-Philippe Rameau (1722) considers it especially appropriate for tender and joyful songs.
Later writers reinforce this characterization. Georg Joseph Vogler (1779) regards G major as more cheerful than C major, though still modest, and particularly suited to naïve or pastoral scenes. Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (1784/85) associates it with idyllic, pastoral affects, gentle emotions, and expressions of gratitude and faithful love. Carl Friedrich Cramer (1786) notes that the gentle seriousness of C major is transformed in G major into a greater degree of cheerfulness combined with charm.
André Grétry (1797), however, describes the key as martial and lacking the nobility of C major. Justin Heinrich Knecht (1803) calls it pleasant and pastoral, while Johann Friedrich Rochlitz (1824) finds it calming. Ferdinand Gotthelf Hand (1837) emphasizes its expressive duality: it conveys intimate fidelity but may also lend itself to lightness and irony. Finally, Hector Berlioz (1856) describes it as "somewhat cheerful, with a tendency toward the commonplace."
Suite No. 2 in D Minor
Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1690) characterizes D minor as "serious and devout," while Jean Rousseau (1691) associates it with seriousness. Charles Masson (1697) suggests that it uniquely blends gravity with a certain degree of gaiety.
Johann Mattheson (1713) attributes to D minor a combination of devotion, calmness, grandeur, and reassurance. It is particularly suited to sacred music, where it fosters reverence, but it may also be employed in secular contexts to evoke serenity. At the same time, it lends itself to graceful, dance-like compositions and is especially appropriate for heroic expression, combining energy with dignity.
Later authors emphasize its darker affective qualities. Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (1784/85) describes it as expressing a melancholic femininity tinged with despondency. André Grétry (1797) calls it melancholic, while Justin Heinrich Knecht (1803) associates it with quiet sorrow. Ferdinand Gotthelf Hand (1837) interprets it as the lament of a troubled yet not powerless heart, capable of expressing profound emotional pain. Hector Berlioz (1856) describes it as "lugubrious, resonant, and somewhat commonplace."
Suite No. 3 in C Major
Abraham Bartolus (1614) associates C major with Mars, attributing to it a warlike and energizing character. Music in this key, he argues, inspires courage and martial enthusiasm, making it particularly suitable for battlefield contexts and military instrumentation.
Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1690) likewise describes it as joyful and martial, while Jean Rousseau (1691) links it to both gaiety and grandeur. Johann Mattheson (1713) characterizes it as bold and somewhat coarse, well suited to festive dances and exuberant music, though capable in the hands of a skilled composer of expressing charm and tenderness.
Jean-Philippe Rameau (1722) associates it with joyful and celebratory vocal music. Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (1784/85) emphasizes its purity, linking it to innocence, simplicity, and naïveté. Carl Friedrich Cramer (1786) describes it as a balance between cheerful liveliness and gentle seriousness, making it suitable for elegant genres such as minuets.
Later perspectives vary: Georg Joseph Vogler (1798) considers it majestic but somewhat limited in color, while Ferdinand Gotthelf Hand (1837) sees it as the foundational key of musical expression, conveying sincerity and clarity, though also susceptible to cliché through overuse. Hector Berlioz (1856) describes it as "grave, yet dull and lacking brilliance."
Suite No. 4 in E-flat Major
Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1691) characterizes E-flat major as "cruel and harsh," suggesting an austere expressive quality. Similarly, Johann Mattheson (1713) attributes to this key a strong sense of pathos, associating it primarily with serious and lamenting affects, and describing it as fundamentally opposed to superficial ornamentation.
Johann Joachim Quantz (1752) presents a more nuanced view, arguing that E-flat major is capable of expressing a wide range of affects, including love, tenderness, seduction, sorrow, as well as more extreme emotions such as anger, fury, and despair. Georg Joseph Vogler (1779) associates the key with the night, while Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (1784/85) interprets it as the key of love, devotion, and intimate communion with God, even linking its three flats symbolically to the Holy Trinity.
Carl Friedrich Cramer (1786) describes E-flat major as possessing a quiet majesty that, although less brilliant than neighboring keys, engages the listener through its subtle tenderness. André Grétry (1797) calls it noble and pathetic (in the eighteenth-century sense of emotionally moving). Justin Heinrich Knecht (1803) characterizes it as magnificent and solemn.
Later authors emphasize its broader expressive scope. Heinrich Christoph Koch (1807) notes its frequent use in military contexts due to the tuning of wind instruments, while Ferdinand Gotthelf Hand (1837) regards it as one of the most versatile keys, capable of conveying both strength and emotional depth. Hector Berlioz (1856) summarizes its character as "majestic, resonant, gentle, and grave."
Suite No. 5 in C Minor
Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1690) describes C minor as "dark and sorrowful," a characterization echoed by Jean Rousseau (1691), who associates it with lamentation and mournful subjects. Charles Masson (1697) similarly identifies it as particularly suited to plaintive themes.
Johann Mattheson (1713) offers a more ambivalent interpretation, describing the key as inherently graceful yet tinged with sadness. He cautions that its sweetness may become excessive unless balanced by liveliness, although this very quality makes it effective in music intended to evoke repose or even sleep.
Johann Joachim Quantz (1752) considers C minor especially apt for expressing sorrow, alongside other minor keys. Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (1784/85) famously characterizes it as the key of declarations of love as well as the lament of unhappy love, capable of conveying longing, desire, and emotional suffering.
André Grétry (1797) describes it as "pathetic" (deeply expressive), while Justin Heinrich Knecht (1803) associates it with profound lamentation. E. T. A. Hoffmann (1815), in a highly imaginative passage, dramatizes its affect as one of existential anguish and psychological turmoil.
Ferdinand Gotthelf Hand (1837) defines C minor as the expression of melancholy, sorrow, and a longing for consolation, noting its suitability for funeral music. Hector Berlioz (1856) characterizes it succinctly as "dark and not very resonant."
Suite No. 6 in D Major
Abraham Bartolus (1614) associates D major with Jupiter, attributing to it a quality of devotion and sincerity that inspires reverence, particularly in sacred contexts. Marc-Antoine Charpentier (1690) describes it as joyful and highly martial, while Jean Rousseau (1691) links it to both gaiety and grandeur.
Johann Mattheson (1713) characterizes D major as naturally sharp and penetrating, particularly suited to loud, festive, and martial music, though not incapable of more delicate expression. Jean-Philippe Rameau (1722) likewise associates it with joyful and magnificent vocal compositions.
Carl Ludwig Junker (1777) describes it as one of the most cheerful keys, suitable for festive gatherings and triumphant expressions. Georg Joseph Vogler (1779) emphasizes its energetic and stimulating qualities, capable of inspiring heroic action and exuberant praise.
Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (1784/85) famously identifies D major as the key of triumph, hallelujahs, and victory, making it particularly appropriate for marches, festive choruses, and celebratory music. Carl Friedrich Cramer (1786) notes that it tends to suppress gentleness in favor of exuberance and even frivolity.
Later authors continue this characterization. Justin Heinrich Knecht (1803) describes it as pompous and resounding, while Ferdinand Gotthelf Hand (1837) emphasizes its radiant clarity and "masculine" strength. Hector Berlioz (1856) concludes by describing it as "cheerful, noisy, and somewhat commonplace."
Primary Sources (17th–19th century music theory and writings)
Abraham Bartolus. Musica Mathematica. Leipzig, 1614.
Jean Rousseau. Méthode claire. Paris, 1691.
Marc-Antoine Charpentier. Règles de composition. Manuscript. Paris, 1692.
Johann Mattheson. Das neu-eröffnete Orchester. Hamburg, 1713.
Jean-Philippe Rameau. Traité de l'harmonie. Paris, 1722.
Johann Joachim Quantz. Versuch einer Anweisung. Berlin, 1752.
Georg Joseph Vogler. Writings on musical expression, 1779–1798.
Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart. Ideen zu einer Ästhetik der Tonkunst. 1784–85.
André Grétry. Mémoires. Paris, 1797.
Justin Heinrich Knecht. Allgemeiner musikalischer Katechismus. 1803.
E. T. A. Hoffmann. Kreisleriana. 1815.
Ferdinand Gotthelf Hand. Aesthetik der Tonkunst. Leipzig, 1837.
Hector Berlioz. Grand traité d'instrumentation. Paris, 1856.
Secondary Sources (modern scholarship)
Wolfgang Auhagen. Studien zur Tonartencharakteristik. Frankfurt am Main, 1983.
Reference Works / Encyclopedic Sources
Johann Georg Sulzer. Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste. Leipzig, 1792–.
Carl Friedrich Cramer, ed. Magazin der Musik. Hamburg, 1780s.
Periodicals
Robert Schumann. Neue Zeitschrift für Musik. Leipzig, 1835–.