If I had to pick one favorite piece of music in the world, it would probably be Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier. Since college, I have spent untold hours listening to this piece of music, ever since I borrowed my dad’s LP copy of a performance by the great Russian pianist Sviatoslov Richter, and I never get sick of it. The fact that it is like 4 ½ hours long does not hurt. It was the first CD I ever bought. It has gotten to the point where I consider it to be something like the soundtrack of my life; I have listened to it through all phases of my adult existence. I have this vision of listening to it on my deathbed and being soothed by it. I’ve never really branched out from the Richter recording, either, which, although it is not the most modern, crisp digital recording, is the most poetic and deep that I’ve ever heard. (I remember browsing in a Tower Records near Lincoln Center when I lived in Manhattan, and this woman and her daughter were trying to decide which recording of the WTC to buy. I shyly suggested they get the Richter recording, but they rejected it because it did not have “DDD” on it (it is “ADD” since it was recorded pre-digitally). They walked away with some glistening recording. I remember thinking, that’s like rejecting the Mona Lisa in favor of a photograph due to its superior clarity and resolution.)
The Well-Tempered Clavier, is a monumental work made up of 24 preludes and 24 fugues, one in each major and minor key, all done twice (books I and II). For a total of 48 preludes and 48 fugues.
To love the WTC, you have to love polyphony. Polyphony, or counterpoint, is a style of music in which the higher and lower notes proceed along the melody independently, in separate "voices." The simplest example of polyphony is a round, such as "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," "Frere Jacques," or other songs in which different singers begin the melody at different times and sing their parts overlapping, on top of each other. Of course, "Frere Jacques" is to Bach's contrapuntal masterpieces as a child's recital of the alphabet would be to a professional production of Hamlet.
How does polyphony get more complicated than a round? First of all, there are usually more than 2 voices – in the WTC, up to 5. Second, Bach did not simply repeat a melody over and over; he wandered off in all sorts of directions, with variations or bits and pieces of the tune appearing at different times in different voices. Third, the different voices are frequently different melodies altogether. Sometimes the second voice is a completely different tune. Sometimes one melody is the first played backwards, or inverted (where the original melody goes higher, the inversion goes lower). These last tricks are what give rise to the myth that Bach is a purely "mathematical" composer. While it’s true that his pieces sometimes have a rigorous order, he found within this order the ability to express the most subtle and sublime human emotions.
The tricky thing about counterpoint is that not any melody can be turned into a round (let alone the more complicated sorts). If you take just any tune, and try to turn it into a round, you can quickly end up with a godawful mess (believe me, I've done it, thanks to computer sequencers). Although the different voices are "independent," they must coincide in such a way as to make pleasing combinations and rhythms.
Another limiting factor is performance, which adds a whole new dimension to the trickiness of polyphony. After all, for a pianist or organist, with two hands, it's hard enough to play a polyphonic piece with two voices. Yet Bach composed works of 5-part counterpoint that can be played by one (very skilled) keyboardist. By having the performer leap up and down the keyboard, crossing hands at times, and playing the right combinations of keys with the same hand, Bach is able to create the illusion of five separate melodic strands. In fact, Bach composed polyphonic pieces for an instrument on which that would seem to be impossible: the violin. By rapidly alternating high notes with low notes, and throwing in the well-timed double-stop (in which the player presses down the strings in such a way as to be able to play two at once) here and there, Bach is able to create the illusion of multiple voices.
Some of us lame-o’s circumvent the limits of performance, however, by using our computers to make music we could never actually play live.
Almost all the music we hear today is not polyphonic but homophonic – composed of a melody with chords, like a bridge with periodic supports. Of course, there are bits and pieces of counterpoint in all varieties of music, but no major composers since Bach have made it the foundation of their music. Around the time of Bach's death in 1750, polyphony went out of style in favor of homophony. (Actually, polyphony as practiced by Bach went out of style BEFORE his death, and he was regarded as somewhat old fashioned during his lifetime.) Although later composers – Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelsohn, Brahms, and others – studied Bach's work, incorporated elements of polyphony, and even wrote an occasional fugue (see below), none ever equaled Bach's mastery at counterpoint. Bach represented the end of polyphony and also its culmination. Maybe that’s because he set such a high standard that no one has had the heart to try to surmount it.
The great thing about polyphony is that you can listen to it many times without getting bored, because it sounds different each time depending on what you pay attention to. You can follow one voice (the others surrounding it dancing around the edges and intruding into the focus of your consciousness in a pleasant way); you can listen to one voice, then skip to another, then another, at various points; or you can sort of sit back and enjoy the effect of all the simultaneous voices. Since humans can only pay attention to once thing at a time, what you can never do (Mozarts among us possibly excepted) is grasp the work whole, as is possible with a chord-based piece. Good polyphony overloads your circuits in a most excellent way, hitting that pleasant boundary between chaos and order.
The fugue is a particular kind of polyphonic piece that has a confining set of rules, much like some forms of poetry. A fugue, which can have two or more voices, begins with the first voice stating the theme by itself. It then moves on to a counter-theme while a second, lower voice enters, repeating the primary theme. When the second melody is ready to begin the countermelody, a third voice can enter. As each voice enters, all the others play around, doing various things, perhaps staying quiet for a while, repeating the theme, playing the theme in a new way, or introducing new themes. At certain points through the piece, the voices successively enter again.
If we represent the melody and countermelody with Xs and Os, it might look kinda like this:
voice 1: X X X X X O O O O O OXOXOOOXXXOOX X X X X X O O O O OOX ...
voice 2: X X X X X O O O O O OXOXXOOOXXXOO X X X X O O ...
voice 3: X X X X X O O O O O OOOXXXOXOXOXOXO ...
Two cool books related to all this:
Godel Escher Bach, Douglas Hofstadter. Among many other fantastic things, an excellent mathematical and philosophical perspective on counterpoint and other things Bach.
The Bach Reader, ed. David & Mendel. A fun collection of primary sources on Bach’s life.
Oh how I have gone on. Anyway, free recordings of the WTC can be heard here but the quality varies widely. Other free Bach music is here (there may be better free sources I don't know about). I'd say don't fool around - go straight out and buy the Richter recordings. You can't own the Mona Lisa or the Statue of David but you can own this.