In Which we Lose Ourselves in Invention
Note: this post was written in June 2021, and for a variety of reasons, I was unable to finish it. It has been so long now that I have lost my curve, but there are things in it I really enjoy, so I’m offering it as is.
“This is really a lovely performance,” Lazaris observed.
“Yes - Andras Schiff. It was a lucky find; he plays Bach exactly the way I like to hear it.”
“The elegance?”
“Yes, and the way he uses rhythm, his attention to articulation, the moderate and tasteful ornamentation…”
“And what is this music?”
“These are the Sinfonias, or ‘three-part inventions,’ as most people call them.”
“I don’t know anything about that…”
I grinned sheepishly. “I probably know too much.”
“It’s OK, go on.”
“Bach wrote them for Friedemann, his eldest son, because at that time the eldest son was expected to carry on the family business: in this case, keyboard playing and composition. Since Bach preferred to teach by example, he started with little pieces that demonstrate good musical ideas, or inventions, and how to develop them. So, little Friedemann learned to play and compose at the same time. The sinfonas have two imitative parts in the upper register and an accompanying voice in the lower register. Conceptually, they are the same as ‘trio sonatas,’ and Bach later wrote a set of…”
Lazarus chuckled. “Great, that’s enough. Are you having any of this gin?”
As it happened, I was not. My wife and I had recently agreed that our substantial collection of North Carolina spirits was becoming altogether too much of a good thing. So, we had designated some “dry days” during the week, and this was one of those. It was early May, and the weather was pleasant. Since the heat and humidity of Summer were likely only days away, Lazarus and I were sitting out on the deck to enjoy it. Lazarus had the Cape Fear Maritime Gin, and I was drinking straight tonic water.
“No, thanks,” I answered, “I’ll stick with this.”
“We’re a pair!” Lazarus snorted. “A deconstructed G and T? I’ll call you ‘T,’ then. But, the next time we have a scotch and soda, though, you’d better not stick me with the soda!”
We both laughed, and then sat and listened to the bittersweet waltz that was Mr. Schiff’s reading of the G minor sinfonia. The slight lingering at the peaks of the little gestures and limpid tone in the high register gave the little piece an exquisite melancholy. It was, as Lazarus observed, a lovely performance.
“I wonder what’s become of Crockett?” I asked when the spell had passed.
“His people had a bad time in November.” Lazarus answered, grimly. “But don’t say his name! You never know when…”
As if on cue, the proud little cardinal alighted on the back of a chair.
“...the devil will appear!” Lazarus muttered.
“Welcome back!” I cried. “I was just thinking of you. How have you been holding up?”
“What? With this pandemic nonsense?” Crockett answered. “Same as always. Mind if I sit in?”
Lazarus took a breath, but I beat him to it. “Not at all! We were just having something of a matinée”
“Sounds great! What’s the show?”
“Well… actually, we’re just listening to music over drinks. I couldn’t think what else you’d call a soirée that happened in the afternoon.”
Crockett snorted. “Let’s not get too French here. So what kind of music are we talking, Alan Jackson? Luke Combs?”
Lazarus abruptly blew air out of the sides of his nose. It was a habit he’d picked up from the dog.
“Nothing wrong with either of them,” I said hurriedly, “but, actually we were going a little more Classical.”
“Ah, yes. Well. I had an uncle who was partial to that Ross-ini…”
“Nothing wrong with him either,” I affirmed, then ducked inside to get the bottle of Cardinal Gin, which still had a little in the bottom.
Lazarus glared at me when I got back. “No, I won’t be getting one of those vaccinations!” Crockett was saying hotly.
“I shouldn’t imagine you’d need one,” I said, before Lazarus could answer. He frowned and deflated. “Care to join us?”
When Crockett saw the bottle, he looked as though I’d come back with a Christmas present. “Why, thank you!” he beamed.
In a few moments, the peace was restored. Lazarus looked around the table, and suddenly laughed. “It looks as though we’re set up to do our own three-part invention, T.”
I laughed back. “I suppose… since we have two gins and tonic. Should that be a Sinfonia in G&T Minor then? Or maybe 2G&T?”
Crockett looked at us quizzically.
“I’d hate to be stuck with 2G.” Lazarus answered. “On the other hand, 5G&T would be quite a party.”
“What are you talking about!?” demanded Crockett.
“Never mind,” Lazarus chuckled, “Let’s talk about the booze.”
Sinfonia in G (and T) Minor
(with apologies to Bach)
“On the nose,” Crockett began.
Crockett fluffed his feathers. “It bears repeating. You wouldn’t want to drink it only once, after all.”
“Everyone knows!” Lazarus interrupted. “We already covered this!”
“I can go along with that.” I affirmed.
“Yes,” Lazarus grumbled, “but we haven’t talked about Cape Fear gin yet!”
Lazarus glared at me. “I suppose….”
“It might be interesting to contrast the two…” I suggested.
“Let’s begin again.”
“On the nose,” Crockett began again, “is …”
“On the nose,” Lazarus answered sulkily, “I’m getting a sort of vanilla cream.”
I nosed my drink, but didn’t get anything…
“Let me try it,” Crockett offered, flitting over to my side of the table. “My nose is especially sensitive.”
Lazarus grinned.
Lazarus frowned again. “No it isn’t!”
“I don’t think tonic water is very aromatic.”
“What do you know?!?”
“I have you know that I have ‘nares’ in my beak, and they work just fine, thank you very much!”
“You hardly even have a nose!”
I tried to break in, “Ah…”
“Now some ‘expert’ on social media might think that the reason that cayenne keeps squirrels out of the feeders but doesn’t deter the birds, is because we can’t smell the pepper…”
“Well, I don’t…”
“The fact is, we can smell it just fine! Personally, I prefer mustard seeds, but I don’t hold with people who can’t take the heat!”
“Yes, but…”
Crockett composed himself. “Well, anyway, you need to be careful about fake news.”
Lazarus rolled his eyes. “I guess you would know. Can we move on?”
“I can go along with that.” I affirmed, hurriedly.