I have lived with Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier all my life and regard it as a spiritual work of the highest order, one that
transcends dramatization. In this huge undertaking Bach speaks with an eloquence that demands more than casual listening. A philosophic undercurrent resonates within the intricate polyphony of the forty-eight preludes and fugues. One could think of this work as Bach’s soul journey through life.

With great variety and simplicity, this music expresses profound humanity, offering the full spectrum of  human feelings. There is neither hopelessness in despair nor conspicuous victory in joy – these contrary emotions are not mutually exclusive and often mirror each other. These seeming contradictions, rather than compromising the music, enrich it. Bach views from the mountaintop; his message is universal and all encompassing.

As he seldom leaves instructions on how to play his music, the choices of expression, tempo and phrasing are the responsibility of the performer. This gives rise to many approaches. All of them require rigorous fundamental study. Then inspiration, that rarefied state, may come about as a reward. In performance – in its essence an ephemeral event – inspiration surfaces unexpectedly as that exquisite moment of transcendence when the performer surrenders to a force beyond. This remark aside, I am attempting here specifically to reconcile the astonishing array of available interpretations for the work.

So wide and deep in content is this singular work that it places extraordinary spiritual demand on the performer. It requires not only technical and mental control, but also a channeling of emotion without subjective projections. There is no room for showmanship, indulgence, or convenient academic solutions; commitment must be total and the quest for truth must continue beyond the performance. Although present in every great work of art, this truth is not easily gained because it has many facets but no ready or definitive answers. The search for truth, then, is the ultimate goal when addressing masterpieces; they require and deserve this care.

In this light, we may consider Beethoven’s piano sonatas (particularly the late ones). This music arises from the depth of the soul and would lose its universality should the performer approach it with a sense of proprietorship. One must step back and let the music emerge on its own terms. For us performers, the task is to reach a balance between the composer’s intention and our own involvement with the music. Although we play a vital part to bringing the score to life, we must go beyond our own identity. As Bach leaves us to make our own decisions, the choices we make require integrity; this is how best to serve his music. Ideally, music so charged with meaning will – via the performer as a medium – reach the listener through the ear into the soul.