The tragic character of this music comes, of course, mainly from the great Ciaccona at the end. The four preceding dances lead up to it inevitably. Even the faster dance movements do not seem to exude any real cheerfulness. In the beginning, the rhythm and broadly bowed harmonies of the subdued Sarabande even point ahead explicitly to the Ciaccona.
A chaconne is a series of variations on a continually repeated short bass line, which in this Ciaccona is a four-bar motif. First, we hear the theme twice as the foundation for broad chords, and then the journey begins, travelling along a passage of arpeggios and rapid notes back to the opening chords. Then there is a sudden fascinating transition to major, like a heavenly light. Afterwards, we return to earth, like a different person, to finally arrive at the beginning – which does indeed sound very different.
In the final note, we hear the same note played twice, on two strings at the same time. Two notes that have eventually become one again: after all that has preceded, there is something comforting about it. And maybe that was also the case for Bach himself.
And here is Mr. Perlman to play this music for you:
