The Cello Suites: In Search of a Baroque Masterpiece

by Eric Siblin

One autumn evening, not long after ending a stint as a pop music critic, Eric Siblin attended a recital of Johann Sebastian Bach's Cello Suites - and fell deeply in love. So began a quest that would unravel three centuries of mystery, intrigue, history, politics, and passion. The Cello Suites weaves together three dramatic the first features Bach and the missing manuscript of the suites; the next, the legendary Spanish Catalan cellist Pablo Casals and his historic discovery of the music; and finally, Eric Siblin's own infatuation. From the back streets of Barcelona to archives, festivals, and conferences, and even to cello lessons, Siblin attempts to unravel the enigmas that continue to haunt this mesmerisingly beautiful music.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, History, Biography, Art, Classical Music, Biography Memoir

319 pages, Paperback

First published December 15, 2009

About the author

Eric Siblin is an award-winning journalist and filmmaker, and was the pop music critic at the Montreal Gazette. He made the transition to television in 2002 with the documentary Word Slingers, which explores the wacky subculture of competitive Scrabble tournaments. The film aired in Canada and the U.S., and won a Jury Award at the Yorkton Short Film & Video Festival. He also co-directed the documentary In Search of Sleep: An Insomniac's Journey, which aired in Canada and Europe. The Cello Suites is his first book.

Reviews

[Michael Finocchiaro · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a highly readable and entertaining book about Bach's Cello Suites which covers Bach's biography, that of the epic Cellist Pablo Casals who re-discovered the suites (his fabled recording was my entry into the Bach world), and the author's own research and fascination with Bach and the Suites. Far less erudite (and most likely less factual as well) than the awesome Christoph Wolff biography, this one is a quick read and does feature some interesting anecdotes and gave me a new appreciation to the music.

I now have about 18 copies of the suites and they are all incredibly different. Of course, Casals is the first landmark recording, but Paolo Pandolfo's is quite beautiful. Ophélie Gaillard's is quite amazing as are those of Jonas Starker and Steve Isserlis. I actually attended a recording of a Radio France show where they did a blind test with three erudite music critics who chose the best one. It turned out I only had two of the cellists that they discussed (and apparently the wrong one by Wispelwey - the 2012 version is the one to get, not the 2008 one), and the Jean-Ghiilen Queyras one won by both the critics and the studio audience. What is spectacular is that this piece of music doesn't have a definitive score or specific meter or dynamic notations which makes each of the interpretations unique. It is worth listening to several versions to catch all the nuances.

[Tony · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bach's Suites for Unaccompanied Cello have long been among my favorite pieces of music. Eric Silbin's The Cello Suites tenderly tracks them through Bach's creation, their 'discovery' by Pablo Casals and to the author's own exploration of the music and himself.

I really liked this book. Learned a lot, to be sure, about Bach, Casals and these wonderful notes. I found myself boring friends and family about implied harmony.

The book is structured in six chapters (the suites) of six sub-chapters (the movements) each. Within each chapter Silbin spends roughly two sub-chapters telling about Bach, two about Casals, and two of himself. Silbin made it all interesting, which made a few annoyances seem not so bad. So what, then, if he speculates some. There are other books, I assume, that take a more scholarly approach to the obvious questions raised. Silbin's work is more personal, part memoir actually. While I don't really likes memoirs, this was about a personal study of brilliant music. Well, that's why I was reading this book in the first place.

Two questions.

First, the sixth suite was written for an 'unknown' instrument, a five-string cello. I assume it's played now on a four-string cello. How is it transposed? Wouldn't there be 'chords' that can't be played on a traditional cello? I wish Silbin had answered that.

Second, I read this, of course, while playing (over and over) my copy of the Cello Suites, which really helped when he talked about the music itself, the best part of the book. My CD is Yo-Yo Ma's version. Any other recommendations out there of other performances? I'd really like to listen to another...and another.

[Malacorda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Collegamenti in ordine sparso: esattamente un anno fa, iniziando a leggere L'Oratorio di Tunström, avevo sperato di trovarvi una storia che proponesse Bach se non come protagonista, almeno come qualcosa di più di un soprammobile. Un anno dopo, la figura imparruccata e accigliata mi guarda dal retro del cd e mi dice: "Era questo il libro da leggere, oca!".
Pochi mesi fa, con Io confesso di Cabré, leggo della affascinante storia del figlio di un antiquario e collezionista di Barcellona. Gli anni non sono gli stessi, quindi il negozio in cui Casals, come raccontato in questo libro, troverà degli spartiti sconosciuti, non potrebbe essere quello degli Ardèvol, e tuttavia il giro di conoscenze è sempre il medesimo e insomma questa lettura non è altro che uno degli infiniti spin-off con cui l'autore catalano avrebbe potuto mandare avanti per sempre il suo romanzo: in terza di copertina, Cabré mi sorride sornione da sotto il baffo imponente e mi suggerisce che in qualche caso lui avrebbe saputo essere più preciso di Siblin.
E infine, meno di un mese fa, con O'Brian leggo di come, a Port Mahon, un aspirante capitano della Royal Navy faccia conoscenza con un naturalista mezzo dottore, mezzo irlandese e mezzo catalano, in occasione di un concerto con musiche di Locatelli: in quel momento Bach è già morto da una cinquantina d'anni, una buona parte degli spartiti da lui manoscritti stanno andando alla deriva, in lungo e in largo per l'Europa, tra i flutti, proprio come i rottami di una nave ormai affondata; ma l'abitudine, per le persone, di sedersi in una stanza (o nel giardinetto, o nella cabina a poppavia) e suonare per sé, o per un ristretto gruppo di spettatori, o solo per il cane o per il gatto, quella non è mai morta nonostante le guerre e le rivoluzioni, anzi è andata avanti proprio grazie alla spinta di guerre e rivoluzioni, una cosa che Siblin qui descrive più o meno con queste parole: "eccoti una melodia, danzala – domani potrebbe incombere su di noi un'altra Guerra dei trent'anni"; e questo sentimento nel corso di tutti quegli anni ha continuato ad evolversi e svilupparsi per trasformarsi da momento privato a faccenda pubblica o per lo meno da presentarsi in pubblico, ed è così che nasce la tradizione di quelli che noi oggi banalmente conosciamo come "concerti". Ed è così che io me ne vado a zonzo per i secoli e tra cinque minuti mollo il pc, mi siedo con la chitarra e dopo essermi scaldata le mani con una mezz'ora di scale, posso esibirmi per la mia cagnona in una perfetta interpretazione del preludio della prima suite per violoncello in sol maggiore, che trascritta per la chitarra diventa in re maggiore. D'altro canto lei è una Weimaraner di sangue puro: il suo tris-tris-tris-tris-trisnonno era certamente accucciato ai piedi del duca di Weimar allorquando, trecento anni fa esatti, questi ascoltava le inedite composizioni del suo nuovo Konzertmeister, buon sangue non mente e con questo ho chiuso il cerchio delle coincidenze.

Nel presente libro si spiega com'è che io ho la possibilità, oggi, di suonare quella suite per la mia cagnona, mentre il dottor Maturin non avrebbe in nessun caso potuto fare la stessa cosa agli inizi del diciannovesimo secolo, contrariamente a quel che vuol farci credere Peter Weir nel film, né sul ponte della Surprise né tantomeno sulla terraferma: il motivo è che in quel momento lo spartito stava ancora galleggiando tra i flutti della dimenticanza, come dicevo sopra. Ed è un gran bel mistero da raccontare e sviscerare: dopo aver letto, con Cabré, la storia di un violino in un libro favoloso che avrei voluto non finisse mai, per fortuna ora mi viene in soccorso una storia affine e altrettanto avvincente: la storia di una musica per violoncello che poi forse non era neanche un violoncello vero e proprio. Roba da leccarsi i baffi. E Siblin la scrive bene, questa indagine: buona la scrittura, ottima la struttura dell'opera che con un perfetto dosaggio affianca la storia di Johann Sebastian Bach, la storia di Pau Casals e la storia dell'indagine - a tratti un po' goffa - dello stesso Siblin.

Passato l'entusiasmo iniziale, riconosco che il libro non è del tutto esente da difetti: qualche ingenuità, qualche contraddizione, si concede la licenza di un qualche svolazzo fantasioso e non sa resistere alla tentazione tutta americana di dover mettere un nazista dell'Illinois a far la parte del cattivone... per carità, la guerra c'è stata realmente e Pablo Casals l'ha attraversata realmente, ma mi pare parecchio inutile (per non dir lezioso) aprire lunghe parentesi riguardo l'antisemitismo nella musica di Bach e nei testi da lui musicati... specialmente quando è Siblin stesso a specificare che nel diciottesimo secolo un certo modo di vedere gli ebrei era purtroppo considerato la normalità; è lui stesso a specificare che se uno avesse potuto intervistare Bach, questi non si sarebbe nemmeno dichiarato tedesco (visto che la Germania, come noi la intendiamo oggi, all'epoca nemmeno esisteva); e soprattutto anche se avesse potuto considerarsi tedesco non avrebbe comunque potuto vergognarsi per un qualcosa che accadrà solo duecento anni dopo la sua morte. E allora di costa stai concionando, Siblin, del sesso degli angeli?

Se da un lato è lodevole il tentativo dell'autore di volere immergersi in termini pratici e concreti nella cosa di cui sta raccontando, e volere dunque imparare a suonare qualcosa delle Suites per violoncello, dall'altro lato si resta un po' disarmati di fronte all'ingenuità di uno che ritiene che qualche tablatura e un corso pratico di una settimana possano anche solo rappresentare un surrogato di anni di studio. Il paragone non può reggere in nessun modo.

Altra ingenuità: partire dal presupposto che la musica classica sia un qualcosa di élitario, un club esclusivissimo che si apre solo a pochissimi adepti, una cosa che a volte sa di muffa e di stantio, che dovrebbe uscire dal museo e prendere una boccata d'aria (mi viene in mente una collega, tanti anni fa: quando io accennavo al fatto di essere andata a sentire un concerto al Teatro Regio o all'Auditorium Paganini, mi diceva: "tutti questi concerti di musica classica ti fanno proprio vecchia!" e avevo ventidue anni circa, chissà come dovrei apparirle oggi). Il fatto che Siblin stesso abbia potuto abbastanza agevolmente addentrarvisi e capirla e apprezzarla e praticamente innamorarsene, della musica classica, dimostra tutto il contrario, riguardo quella presunzione di vecchiume ed élitarietà. Quanto al fatto che ai concerti il pubblico osservi in maniera rigorosa la regola - pur non scritta - di starsene ad ascoltare in un silenzio quasi religioso... beh, io lo trovo normale, è come minimo forma di cortesia verso un artista che si sta concentrando per fare una cosa difficile e verso gli altri che stanno ascoltando. Casomai il problema è nel pubblico: oggigiorno la stragrande maggioranza della gente non è capace di stare ad ascoltare qualcosa in silenzio, anzi, non è capace di ascoltare tout-court. C'è gente che, se gli concedi un dito, si prenderà tutto il braccio: concedigli di poter fare un colpettino di tosse e pretenderanno subito di poter rispondere indisturbati al cellulare. E a ben pensarci, non è un problema solo della musica classica: una volta uno mi raccontò di essere stato ad un concerto dei Jethro Tull, da qualche parte qui in Italia, negli anni '70 o '80, raccontò che a un certo punto Jan Anderson ha smesso di cantare e ha dichiarato che non avrebbe ripreso fin quando il pubblico non avesse smesso di fare un frastuono così eccessivo da sopravanzare la musica. Questo per dimostrare che il pubblico si confonde facilmente: ad un evento sportivo ci vai per tifare e farTI sentire, ma ad un evento musicale dovresti andare per ascoltare, non per far sentire la tua presenza. Ma si sa, l'effetto branco ha conseguenze deleterie sull'animale uomo.

Ancora una volta mi sono fatta prendere la mano dalla mia vena polemica, e in questo modo rischio di dare un'idea sbagliata del libro che, a parte le inevitabili imperfezioni, è abbastanza brillante e gustoso, sa ritrarre personaggi realmente esistiti senza cedere alla tentazione della fiction e ancor meno alla tentazione dell'agiografia, sa entusiasmare e sa dare una panoramica completa della sua "indagine", dal punto di vista sia storico che geografico. L'autore non ha certo la conoscenza monumentale-enciclopedica che forse si potrebbe desiderare allorquando uno si appresta a parlare di Bach, ma bisogna riconoscergli il merito di essere un buon divulgatore: il libro è idoneo per essere apprezzato sia dai più profani, sia dai più esperti, sia da quelli a metà strada come la sottoscritta.

[Coenraad · Rating 5 out of 5]

A delicious smorgasbord of stories linked by the glorious Cello Suites: the life of their composer J. S. Bach, the life of their resurrector, Pablo Casals, and the quest of the author, Eric Siblin. An easy read, but filled with fascinating details. Particularly interesting is the emphasis on the link between politics and art in the life of the composer and the cellist, strangely absent in the narrative of the author himself. Would it be because he lives in a much freer time, where an artist, like a non-fiction writer, is not bogged down too much by policies and budgets? Or is he particularly lucky in his environment? Nonetheless, a delightful book for the interested lay reader.

'n Heerlike deureenvleg van fassinerende verhale, saamgebind deur die ses Tjellosuites: die lewens van die komponis, Johann Sebastian Bach, en die tjellis wat die musiek aan die vergetelheid ontruk het, Pablo Casals. Daarmee saam vertellings oor die skrywer se speurtog om die stories na te vors, en sy pogings om Bach se musiek te begryp. Die ontroerendste hiervan is seker die ontmoeting met die afgetrede hooftjellis van die orkes in Siblin se tuisstad, Montreal. Dié gul, bejaarde musikus het die skrywer oortuig om self tjellolesse te neem ten einde die musiek beter te begryp. Die rol van die politiek in die lewens van Bach en Casals val op, maar dis vreemd afwesig by Siblin se eie verhaal. Is sy politieke ervaring oninteressant of irrelevant? Daar is wel 'n kort bepreking van kulturele ideologieë wat bots wanneer Siblin wonder of hy as Jood musiek behoort te sing wat so naby aan anti-Semitisme kom (hy het in 'n stadium deelgeneem aan 'n uitvoering van 'n Bach-kantate deur 'n groep amateursangers wat spesiaal vir dié doel byeengekom het). Tog sleur Bach se musiek hom totaal mee en daarom het ons nou hierdie uiters leesbare boek, 'n uitstekende inleiding vir die geïnteresseerde leek tot hierdie boeiende stel komposisies.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bach's Cello Suites are sublime; this book is not. It’s not a bad book by any means and I’m glad I read it. It tells the life stories of Bach and Casals in relation to the cello suites, along with the story of the author's discovery of the suites and subsequent research into them. There are six suites each made up of six movements so Siblin structured his book into six parts of six chapters, each with the title of a suite and a movement, an overly cute device in my book. As for the subject matter, it was interesting up to a point but since I knew the main facts of Bach’s life there was little new there for me. I knew nothing of Casals so almost all of his story was new to me. But while I get the fact that Casals was responsible for (re)introducing the forgotten Cello Suites to the public during the early twentieth century it seemed to me that for much of the book that the author was straining to link Bach, Casals, and himself to the suites. Bach’s catalog runs over 1000 pieces, and while the suites are wonderful so too is nearly all of what Bach wrote. He seems to have penned them and never given them a second thought. Casals is rightly associated with the suites but he also covered nearly every important piece of cello music in the repertoire; his life was not all about the cello suites though at times the author makes it seem that way. In a way the sections of the book I enjoyed most were Siblin’s own efforts to learn about the suites. His story of a lover of rock and roll music (he’d been rock critic prior to writing this book) who became disillusioned with it and went off searching for something else is one I can understand. I’ve been there. That we both ended up at Bach and classical music was the original reason I picked up the book. Again, it’s not a bad book. There’s no crime in concentrating only on the cello suites. I simply felt the cello suites hook was overstated. If you find the subject matter interesting at all you will probably enjoy this book.

[Randall Wallace · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pablo Casals said, “intonation is a matter of conscience”. Only nine works of Bach were published in his lifetime. Casals found the suites in 1890, and for twelve years practiced them every day before he played them in public. Casals charged the suites “with emotion” and he said, “How could anybody think of Bach as ‘cold’ when these suites seem to shine with the most glittering kind of poetry.” Casals made the first recordings of the solo suites. At that time the illiteracy rate in Spain was 64% and the average life expectancy was 35 years. February 1936 was the last free election in Spain for forty years. The Catalan language was banned. Casals moves to the French town of Prades. In Prades, Casals started each day with playing from the Well-Tempered Klavier on the piano. Casals recorded the last two cello suites at Abbey Road studios. I’d like to see a photo of Pablo with his cello case walking barefoot on the famed Abbey Road crosswalk. Casals was stunned by US support for Franco, it made clear that WWII wasn’t about the allies fighting against fascism. [The book Nazi Nexus describes in detail the huge collusion between US corporations (Ford, GM, IBM, etc.) and the Nazi war economy]. Franco was supported by the US not because he was anti-Hitler, but because he was a rabid anti-communist. Casals decided to no longer play in any country that supported Franco’s rule. Right on…

In Bach’s day a musician looked forward to one of three employers: a town, a church, or an aristocratic court. Allemande’s are the second movement of every cello suite. Eric doesn’t tell us, but square dance expert John Krumm will tell you allemandes originally were dances with “allemande” meaning by the hand. Gigues end every suite, after which, as they say, the jig is up. Bach starts working as organist at Arnstadt as a teenager. I bought a cool Roland C-330 church organ, which is modeled after this Arnstadt organ, for my studio. At Arnstadt, Bach gets slapped on the wrist for inserting “strange notes”.

“The Bach suites are unforgiving; the player has nothing to hide behind.” “The stroke of his bow was like heavy silk.” “A life devoted to technique.” Suite five is the only one using scordatura tuning (in this case C G D G). The fifth suite also exists in lute form.

When I think of Sicily, I think of a bloody horse’s head in the guy’s bed from the Godfather. In this book, I learned instead that during a period of only 35 years, Sicily was owned by Spanish Hapsburg’s until 1700, then Bourbon Philip V, Piedmont prince Victor Amadeus II, Charles VI of Austria, and then Spanish Bourbons. That Sicily sure had a busy dance card.

What is strange about this book is the half-assed approach by the author at learning. The author barely tries to learn cello and then decides to learn the Bach Suites on guitar (the one instrument Eric says he can play “competently”) so he finds a TAB version to read. Good grief. Reading classical guitar TAB slowly is the height of Eric’s musical background. I wish the author had gone balls out to study these suites as many of this book’s readers have. I’ve long practiced the Bach cello suites on saxophone, guitar, viola and cello, and I’d like to have heard Eric talk to a boatload of the top pro players on those instruments as to what playing those pieces does for them. I’d loved to hear what Michael Brecker said about practicing the cello suites on tenor sax, or Julian Bream on guitar, or Janos Starker, or Kim Kashkashian on Viola. I use the Jacqueline du Pre edition; did she say anything about the suites while she was alive?

Casals said, “Each note is like a link in the chain, important in itself and also as a connection between what has been and what will be.” Bach died at age sixty-six. “Some cello instruments were played da spalla, that is, on the shoulder, others, da gamba – held between the legs like the modern cello”. Half of Bach’s manuscripts are now looking like swiss cheese because he used iron-gall ink and over time the acidic content eats through the page and the note heads fall away. I can picture Bach’s agent saying, “No Johnny, I’m not saying you have the gall to write, I’m just saying you have the wrong gall to write.”

I’m not sure why this book’s cover shows a modern student cello with micro-tuners instead of a Bach era baroque cello like Yo Yo’s unconverted baroque Strad. What art director worth his salt wouldn’t want to go for baroque? For me, more informative than this book were Allen Winold's twin volume "Bach Cello Suites: Analyses & Explorations", and Jerome Carrington's "Trills in the Bach Suites", or Christopher Wolf's 600-page bio "Johann Sebastian Bach".

[Patrick Gibson · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a wonderful book. Not definitive in any way -- but pleasurable as a good guilty read.

Bach's Cello Suites are perhaps the most intriguing pieces of music ever written. Largely forgotten for almost two centuries—incredibly found by the man who would become the world's greatest cellist.
Eric Siblin, a former pop music critic has written a great book about the suites and their mysterious history. It's also a mini-biography of Bach and Pablo Casals, the cellist who discovered them at the age of thirteen and was responsible for making them what they are to the world today, which is simply one of the most divine pieces of music ever written.

Siblin breaks the book into chunks based on the order of the suites; so six sections with six chapters each. Each section usually starts with a description of the related prelude, an interesting device to set the stage. For example, he ties the melancholy second suite to the death of Bach's first wife, the romantic third to the meeting of his second wife. The first few chapters of each section usually coveres Bach, the next few Casals, and then the last reserved to tie the pieces together through Siblin's search for the lost original manuscript of the suites (something of a holy grail for musicologists as there is currently no version that has the composer's own instructions for performance, which explains the wide disparity between interpretations) and his emotional exploration of the suites.

Siblin speaks credibly about the transcendence of the music, using language that is not too overblown, a common mistake in many books on music. Though there are many mysteries about the Suites still left at the end of the book, the thrust is still about the transforming power of music.

I have several recordings of the Suites and found it helpful to listen to them repeatedly as I read the book. Not only did it shed a new light on the suites but also enhanced the reading of the book, tying me to the journey.

[Jim Coughenour · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ever since I heard Anner Bylsma's austere interpretation of Bach's 6 Suites for Cello back in the 80s, I've had a deep affection for this music. I just checked my iTunes library: I currently have 10 different versions of the complete set for cello, plus one performed on guitar and another on viola da gamba. Ironically, I don't have the set by Pablo Casals, the engaging hero of Siblin's short account of this "almost-lost" composition.

I'm not sure what I expected from this book. It's the work of an amateur in the best sense. Siblin is an established critic of pop music, and he sometimes writes about Bach and Casals as if they were an obscure band he just discovered. For me the quality of his commentary was wildly uneven, sometimes a mere step above gossip, sometimes quite illuminating. It's sincere to a fault. But I'm not sure how much I can blame him: for me, the music is mysterious, full of secrets I can't fathom; I wanted him to reveal something that's probably beyond the power of writing. Maybe no one can – as Robert Kapilow says in the title of his recent book, All You Have To Do Is Listen. (But then Kapilow is superb at showing what you're listening to.)

In the end, Siblin's book is enjoyable for its anecdotes and the sense of how lucky we are that this music survived at all. If he relies on sweeping, almost empty generalizations, I understand, it's how one fan speaks to another: The second suite will forever remain for me a suite of tragedy; the third, love; the fourth, struggle; and the fifth, mystery... The sixth is one of transcendence.

Fair enough.

[Elsje · Rating 4 out of 5]

Eric Siblin, journalist en in die hoedanigheid schrijver van recensies van popconcerten, raakt in het jaar 2000 (het 250e sterfjaar van Bach) min of meer toevallig verzeild bij een concert waarin de Cellosuites van Bach worden uitgevoerd. Hij is diep onder de indruk van deze muziek en besluit er een boek over te schrijven.

Bach schreef de zes suites waarschijnlijk rond 1725. Intrigerend is dat de muziek eeuwenlang verloren leek, tot een jonge Catalaanse cellist in 1890 er bij toeval op stuitte. Deze cellist, Pablo (Pau op z'n Catalaans) Casals, maakte er zijn signatuurwerk van.

Het boek van Siblin is onderverdeeld in zes delen, elk verwijzend naar een van de cellosuites. De delen zelf zijn weer onderverdeeld in hoofdstukken met de titels van de verschillende onderdelen van de suites. Zo is er de prelude, allemande, sarabande, gigue etc. In elke suite zijn de eerste hoofdstukken aan het leven en de werken van Bach gewijd, daarna enkele delen aan Pau Casals en het afsluitende hoofdstuk springt naar de moderne tijd. Daarin maken we kennis met hedendaagse vertolkers en uitvoeringen van het werk van Bach, waaronder uiteraard de cellosuites.

Het boek is een journalistiek geschreven weergave van de levens van de in zijn tijd ondergewaardeerde componist JS Bach en de politiek bevlogen Catalaanse cellist Pau Casals en is tegelijkertijd een verslag van het onderzoek van Siblin bij het schrijven ervan. Onderhoudend geschreven, de passie voor Bach straalt eraf: een aanwinst voor Bach-liefhebbers.

Maar geen vijf sterren omdat Siblin toch ook in de valkuil trapt van veel klassieke muziekliefhebbers: hij doet een oproep om de jeugd van tegenwoordig kennis te laten maken met Bach. Hiervoor moet volgens Siblin de vorm van klassieke muziekconcerten nodig op de schop. Die moeten gemoderniseerd worden, "als we tenminste willen dat jongere muziekliefhebbers ooit Bach samen met Bono, Beck en Björk op hun digitale playlists zullen zetten." (p.60). Drie dingen storen me daarbij: 1. alsof Bach in het soort mainstream-popmuziek dat mijn spruiten luisteren past, 2. alsof als je bepaalde muziek niet op je pak 'm beet 15e waardeert, je 'm dus nooit zult leren waarderen en 3. alsof het erg zou zijn als Bach niet meer beluisterd zou worden. Ja, ik persoonlijk zou het erg vinden, want ik ben dol op Bach, maar kom nou, alsof er niet meer prachtige muziek verloren gaat. En bovendien hoeft verloren niet voor eeuwig te zijn. Zie de vondst van Casals. Ik heb gezegd :-)

[Robert Wechsler · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was not the preparation I was looking for before seeung Yo-Yo Ma play all six suites at Tanglewood. Like so much about the arts, it’s more about the story behind the art rather than the art itself. In this case, it is split between the composer and its first primary performer, Pablo Casals. The chapters that focus on Casals (spread throughout the book in the common keep-all-the-balls-in-the-air approach) are more interesting than the ones on Bach primarily because not much is known about Bach and, therefore, Siblin feels compelled to do too much with the little we know. And there’s too much about the author for my taste. It’s not a bad book, but I found myself skimming a lot.

[Scott · Rating 4 out of 5]

A light biography of both Pablo Casals and J.S. Bach, vaguely centered around Bach's Cello suites. Siblin provides some explanation of the musical pieces themselves, but the vast majority of the book concerns itself with the life of these two figures. While it wasn't the book I hoped for (which would be a easily accessible jaunt through the musical theory that would explain why I love the Prelude for Suite 1), I enjoyed learning more about Bach and Casals and their political/social worlds.

[Carole888 · Rating 4 out of 5]

A delightful read! The author gives us a glimpse of Bach’s Cello Suites by taking us on a journey back and forth through time following the lives of Bach, Pablo Cassales and also the author’s own journey too. This was well researched, informative and rich in historical detail. I’ve also looked up a few parts of Bach’s cello suites and have enjoyed listening to what I’ve heard so far!

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Whether you like classical music or not, check out the links to other enthusiastic reviews on my blog and I'm sure you'll rush out and buy the book and music too. See http://anzlitlovers.wordpress.com/201...

[Emiel Vertongen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Veel informatie, op een bijzonder levendige manier gebracht. Er zit overal in het boek een zekere spanning en enthousiasme vervat, van een zoektocht of een ontdekkingsreis van een amateur die vanaf nul zo veel mogelijk over Bach, Pablo Casals en de geschiedenis van de Cellosuites te weten probeert te komen. Siblin gaat daarin erg ver, zodat er een schat aan informatie in zit vervat, maar het leest nog steeds even vlot als een dedectiveverhaal.

[Guille Puerto · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesante forma de conocer la vida del genio del Siglo XVIII y del músico catalán que hizo famosas estás piezas a través del misterio de la composición y la historia de la supervivencia de esta obra que hoy en día es de lo más reconocible de la música barroca.

La estructura del libro dividido en 36 capitulos, cada uno nombrado como un movimiento de cada una de las Suites, mezcla un análisis a grandes rasgos de la composición con datos de la vida de Johann Sebastian y con la de Pau Casals, músico catalán que redescubrió las Suites de cierta forma.

Una excelente introducción y acercamiento al mundo de la música clásica que para muchos representa un monumento colosal e inalcanzable lleno de detalles fuera de nuestra comprensión.

[Carl · Rating 3 out of 5]

I first got excited about the cello suites about a year ago when I found a recording by Yo Yo Ma at the library. I probably wouldn't have given this book a serious look except the praise for it from Simon Winchester printed on the front of the dust jacket. This book tells the story of the rediscovery of the suites in a second hand music store by Pablo Casals in the early 20th century and how he revolutionized the role of the cello with his world famous performances of it. (He practiced it for 12 years before he performed it) It is also a history of JS Bach. Given the fanatical interest in his life by researchers and Bach-nerds, it's surprising how much we don't know about him and have to guess. Makes one wonder how scientists can speak with such assurance about what happened 25 to 30 million years ago.

If you think you might enjoy some solo cello music, check out a recording. Discovering how much interest there is in just this one work was enlightening; yet for me it addresses some of the fundamental issues I have about the role or position of classical music. Here is one thought brought out by the book:

Some 'purists' want Bach to heard as closely as possible to how it was heard in the 18th century. But how can that be, when today's audience has a knowledge of jazz and blues (and other things) that Bach's audience didn't?

[Andrew H · Rating 4 out of 5]

Surprisingly, biographies of Bach are not numerous. But when Siblin began his writing on Bach, a major biography had just been undertaken - Christoph Woolf's John Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician. In this book, Siblin takes a personal approach to Bach, one set of pieces - the six cello suites - and the cellists who performed them. In effect, the book becomes a double biography of Bach, the creator of the six suites (though a small number of academics think not), and Casals, the "geriatric superstar" who discovered the cello suites for the modern world and remains their greatest interpreter.

Rather beautifully, the book is split into six parts and each part is split into sections that correspond with Bach's divisions. Through the six sections, Siblin brings to life the political and musical world of Bach and Casals. The highlight of the book is Suite 3, where the stories of Bach and Casals fuse with the cellist, Walter Joachim, who fled the Nazis and encouraged Siblin to learn the cello.

This is an entrancing book, especially if read whilst the suites are being played.

[Yaaresse · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5, rounding up.

Very readable, interesting, and altogether a pleasant surprise. Normally, I don't care for the constantly alternating story line or non-fiction where the writer inserts him/herself, but in the hands of a good writer, it works here. This book is really three different stories. The first is about Back, what little is known of his life and the writing or the cello suites. The second is the story of the Catalan cellist, Pablo Casals, who re-discovered the cello suites in a second-hand store and made it his goal to master them and went on to become the equivalent of a rock star of cello. (Our closest comparison today would probably be YoYo Ma for celebrity as well as skill and name recognition.) The third story is about Siblin's introduction to and subsequent quest to understand the Bach cello suites. It doesn't sound like the stuff of fascinating books, but in Siblin's most able hands, it made for a fascinating interplay of stores.

Reader hint: find the Casal recording of the cello suites (the are available on YouTube) and listen to them while reading the book. It really adds to the experience.

[Mo · Rating 1 out of 5]

I suppose if you have an interest in classical music, you might enjoy this book. I do not... and did not.

This was my book club's choice... and I was not alone in my sentiments. Nobody had anything good to say about it. Reading it was akin to being back in school and doing one's homework.

Read with CCCC book club.

Audiobook BRK
Narrated by David de Vries
Approx 8 hours

[Michelle Bizzell · Rating 3 out of 5]

A triple shot of Bach, combining a mini-biography of the composer with the story of how his now famous cello suites were lost amongst his papers and then rediscovered by a child prodigy in a used bookstore in Spain and Pablo Casals' journey to bring this music to the world. On top of the history is the author's story of researching the book and getting hooked on Bach himself. Despite skipping around between the various threads, it made for an enjoyable read. My experience was definitely enhanced by reading while listening along to the cello suites and some of the other pieces mentioned on Youtube, etc. Probably not a book I would recommend to someone who wasn't already a fan of the cello suites and might be repetitive if you are a Bach scholar, but if you too are somewhere in between this was interesting.

[Adri · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a delightful book. Beautifully written. As I said before: if you are a lover of classical music then please read this. It becomes even more relevant and gripping if you are a lover of cello music.

I discovered the Bach Cello Suites about 20 years ago and I loved and admired them ever since. Never having been a great lover of Bach's music this was a big surprise. This book gives such a valuable insight into Bach's life, the background to each of the six suites, to Pablo Casals and his discovery of the suites early in the 20th century, and to Eric Siblin's own journey of discovery.

I highly recommend this book.

[jonathan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Es un libro maravilloso. Siblin hace de Pau Casals un sujeto entrañable y difícil de olvidar, tanto en la altura desbordante de su ética como en su excelencia musical. La división de los capítulos es muy inteligente: apela a los movimientos de las suites para contar su historia, la de Bach, de las Suites y de Casals.
Para quienes quieran acercarse a la obra de Bach y, entender su tiempo y saber de su biografía, es totalmente recomendable. Para quien quiera saber más de Casals y de su relación ética con su entorno (sobre todo con la Guerra Civil Española y sus consecuencias), este libro se hace indispensable (sobre todo pensando que las biografías clásicas sobre Casals se escriben entre 1950 y 1970). Para quienes quieran disfrutar de las Suites, Siblin da el tono exacto para presentar las circunstancias de su composición, sus lagunas y sus polémicas, y también para hacernos disfrutar de las distintas versiones de su ejecución dando vida a través de las palabras a una obra que sigue siendo una de las más famosas del maestro alemán.
Todo un logro dar cuenta de un arte no figural a través de la prosa. Sí, !me gustó muchísimo!

[Daniel Dimitrov · Rating 5 out of 5]

Напоследък ми върви на преплетени биографии като тази. Това е “The Cello Suites” на Eric Siblin — в голямата си част биография на шестте сюити за чело на Йохан Себастиан Бах, отчасти биография на самият Бах, отчасти на Пабло Касалс, каталунският челист, който ги изтупва от прахоляка и започва да ги изпълнява в цяла Европа в първата половина на 20ти век. И във всичко това са преплетени опитите на самия автор с Бах с участието му в изпълнението на една негова оратория с хор от любители и с опитите му да се научи да свири сюитите на китара.

Всичко това е разказано и с голяма доза ирониния и хумор, което помага да видиш човека Бах, извън иконичния образ, който заема днес.

Книгата ми даде този ключ, който ми беше нужен, за да се наслаждавам на музиката на Бах без да имам усещането, че задължително трябва да ми харесва. И така като се заслушаш чуваш ехото на средните векове, наред с господството на църквата, незначителността на отделния човек пред могъществото на вселенската хармония, но и искреното пасторално щастие

[Catherine Davison · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book while listening to the Fournier CDs ( recorded in Basel 1962) and the Jacqueline Du Prè ( London recording) as I don’t have a Casals version. I also was so inspired that I purchased a secondhand cello and have begun the slow process of trying to get my brain out of the habit of reading notes as if they’re on the treble clef. I thoroughly enjoyed this book but I am a bit surprised that he didn’t once mention Jacqueline Du Prè, she and Casals knew each other and she undertook his Masterclass in Zermatt and received accolades from him, strange that in a book about the Bach Cello Suites Siblin didn’t mention her once. I recommend this for anyone who loves Bach ( and really, who can hear the Cello Suites and not love Bach?).

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don’t remember ever being sad to finish a non-fiction book before. Admittedly, I’m kind of the ideal target audience—an amateur cellist who loves the Bach suites—but I was shocked at how engaging the writing was. It was hard to put down, with all the suspense and drama of a mystery thriller. It quickly became one of my all-time favorite books.

[Zev Frutkoff · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a find - in the 2nd hand section of a bookstore we were making “just a quick stop” in. The book is divided into six “suites” and each suite (like the Bach) into Prelude, Sarabande, Gavotte, etc. The chapters thread several narratives through the suites - about the music, about Bach’s life, about Pablo Casals (who popularized the Suites - they were unknown to concert goers for 300 years), and about how Siblin got interested and tracked down the information for the book. All in all, a fascinating story and an excellent read.

[Carla · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fijn opgebouwd volgens de structuur van de 6 cellosuites van Bach. Leest vlot als een mix van een biografie van Bach, van Pablo Casals en van de zoektocht naar de oorspronkelijke manuscripten van de suites... Dat het van een niet klassieke-muziekgeschoolde journalist komt, maakt het des te boeiender!

[Kyle Wise · Rating 5 out of 5]

Enjoyed it thoroughly! You get cello, history, and two biographies. What more do you want?

[Stella Bixler · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 - only occasionally boring and really interesting and easy to read! I really liked this, contagious enthusiasm and appreciation for music and history, very dope

[Darcy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Siblin’s passion for the Cello Suites mirrors my own. He has several beautiful descriptions of the suites. Though my favorite is actually a quote from the cellist Mischa Maisky, who compares the suites to a diamond “with so many different cuts that reflect light in so many different ways.”

Readers should be aware that Siblin does not have any special credentials or authority when it comes to Bach or classical music. This doesn’t discredit his writing, but it’s important to know what you’re getting into. He is writing this book because he, like many of us, randomly discovered and was moved by Bach’s cello suites and that special awe and sublimity that the suites invoke in listeners, was a catalyst for his research and interest in the subject.

I do think the title was a bit misleading, as the “search for a Baroque masterpiece” was ultimately a very anticlimactic part of this story. What you do get in this book is a lot of Bach biography, interesting anecdotes about Pablo Casals, and Siblin’s ponderings (many of them quite lovely) about his favored subject.

About half-way through the book I felt that Sbilin lost the thread of his narrative and often seemed to be including random information and history because he was running low on material. Part of the problem might be that the Cello Suites were probably nothing more than a musical afterthought for Bach. Casals love for them popularized them, but they are still a fairly limited subject to write an entire book on. Thus, like many current versions of the Suites, Siblin had to improvise and bring in other information to flesh out his book. It wasn’t bad, but like the “reinventions” (211) of suites he so joyously chronicles, it’s not exactly what one is expecting.

Overall, I found more of interest about Casals in this book than I did about Bach. Casals, “ The Song of the Birds,” is mentioned several times. I was not familiar with it, but it is incredibly moving. “The Song of the Birds” is a traditional Catalan lullaby that Casal’s often played as a way to protest Spain’s oppression by the Franco regime.

“Birds sing when they are in the sky, they sing: "Peace, Peace, Peace", and it is a melody that Bach, Beethoven and all the greats would have admired and loved. What is more, it is born in the soul of my people, Catalonia.” – Pablo Casals