Parma Recordings released the album and launched a related website at the end of February 2011.  Check it out at: http://www.navonarecords.com/marinescu/

Thank you to all my supporters.

Ovidiu Marinescu

Here are the program notes which I just finished, in case you are interested.

6 Suites for Violoncello Solo, BWV 1007-1012 by Johann Sebastian Bach

Johann Sebastian Bach. Cöthen, 1717-1723: Kapellmeister. This is how Bach’s resume might have read at the end of his tenure at the court of Prince Leopold, an enlightened ruler who loved music and art. The town was the administrative center of the province of Anhalt- Cöthen, part of the Holy Roman Empire, a loosely connected group of principalities.
A musician in those times would have had one of three employment options: work for a noble court, a church or as an official musician hired by a town council. Bach’s years before Cöthen were spent performing various musical jobs in Arnstadt, Mühlhausen, and at the court of Weimar both as organist and violinist, eventually advancing to the position of concertmaster. In his early thirties, married, with four children, he was rather disappointed when in early in 1717 he got passed for the position of Kapellmeister in Weimar. When an invitation arrived from Cöthen to take the Kapellmeister position there, he pleaded with Duke Wilhelm Ernst to release him. Unceremoniously, the duke threw Bach in jail. According to the Weimar records, a month later Bach was released from jail with a note of “unfavorable discharge.”
Once in Cöthen, Bach found a superb group of musicians. His new patron, Prince Leopold, had recently benefited from a major change in policies at the court in Berlin. Frederick I, the king of an opulent court which employed some of the top musicians in Europe died in 1713. His son, Frederick William, intent on saving money and keeping an austere court, fired the whole Berlin Kapelle. Young Prince Leopold, not yet in full control at the court, asked his mother, the Queen Regent, to make available funds for the hiring of some of the Berlin musicians; the seven exceptional musicians that arrived, among them cellist Christian Bernhard Linigke, transformed the Cöthen Kapelle into a top musical institution.
During his years in Cöthen, Bach composed some of his best known instrumental works: the Brandenburg Concertos, the four Orchestral Suites, the first book of the Well Tempered Clavier, the two and three-part Inventions, the English and French Suites for harpsichord, the Six Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, three sonatas for viola-da-gamba and keyboard, and the Six Suites for Violoncello Solo. The cello suites were written for one of two remarkable musicians in the Kapelle - the violinist and gamba player Christian Ferdinand Abel or the cellist Christian Bernard Linike. Traditionally, in the Baroque period the cello was generally used to provide the bass line as accompaniment for a melodic instrument. In the cello suites Bach attempts to provide, albeit some in a suggested way, a melodic line, polyphony - by creating several melodic layers, a harmonic structure, and a bass accompaniment, all with one instrument.
The Cello Suites
In the seventeenth century the Baroque suite was a free sequence of dance movements, but by mid-eighteenth century a standard set of four stylized dances had emerged in the German speaking countries: the allemande, courante, sarabande and gigue, to which a composers might have added other dances. Bach follows the pattern in the cello suites. In addition, Bach opens each suite with a prelude that anticipates the mood of the dance movements and he includes an additional pair of dances between the sarabandes and gigues. The added dances vary between the suites: two minutes for suites 1 and 2, two bourées for suites 3 and 4, and a pair of gavottes for the final two suites. While structurally similar, each suite is bolder in the way it treats the cello, as if Bach discovered the instrument’s almost limitless capabilities as he was composing the suites. Movements get longer, more chords are used, and by the sixth suite Bach opts for a five stringed instrument. The fifth suite, in C Minor, calls for a cello in scordatura – the top string tuned down one step, from A to G. This tuning creates a darker, mellower sound, also making new chords possible. Bach was probably familiar with the seventeenth century practice in Italy, the birthplace of the cello, where cello tuning was often g-d-G-C, especially in Bologna, which boasted an excellent cello school.
How did Bach compose the cello suites? Did he sit at a desk or did he have a cello in his hands? Did he perhaps play them on the violin – with its similar tuning, which we know he mastered? It is impossible to know for sure. Each of the suites has clues about the left hand technique used in the early eighteen century, from the Prelude from the Suite no 1 in G major, to the one from the Suite no 6 in D major, showing intimate knowledge of the cello technique. Much information about the playing technique can be gathered from the fifth suite. Bach writes the notes on the top string in transposition (one step higher than the sounding pitch), telling us precisely which notes were intended to be played as open strings, and giving hints about left hand positions and the use of string crossings. In my opinion, Bach must have played at least some passages, on a cello, another string instrument, or even perhaps a keyboard. This assumption implies an element of live music making, of savoring the music as it happens.
Bach was a reputed virtuoso at keyboard improvisation. An improvisatory feel can be heard in many passages in the cello suites, such as the running scales in the Prelude to Suite no 4, or the Allemande from Suite no 2. Baroque performance practice included the idea of spontaneity, elements of improvisation, added ornaments, and a flexible rhythm within a regular pulse. The end of the Prelude to the Suite no 2 in D Minor offers the opportunity for, even requires, the performer’s contribution. The Prelude features predominantly rhythms of sixteenth and eighth notes in various combinations, often in dotted rhythms; only the last five measures have chords each lasting a full measure. Is that what Bach intended? Many performers took his writing literally, especially those active during the early and mid-twentieth century. If we observe Bach’s original manuscript to the Chaconne from the Partita in D Minor for solo violin, where each new variation features a different treatment of the theme, we see that in the variation featuring broken chords played across the fours strings, Bach writes the beginning measures as arpeggios, finishing the variation in short hand notation, as simple chords. Many scholars today believe that the end of the Prelude from the Suite no. 2 displays a similar case of short hand notation. With the Baroque practice encouraging improvisation and Bach’s penchant for it, I take the passage one step further, as I often improvise on the harmony given by the composer, as featured in this recording. Additionally, two bonus tracks with alternate endings are included at the end of the full suite: besides the quasi-improvised ending in the full track, one additional track has the arpeggiated chords in sixteen notes (as in most recordings today), and another track has just the chords sustained for one measure each. You may choose your favorite.
To expound on the theme of live music making, the multitude of recordings of the cello suites is perhaps the result of the intrinsic qualities of fleeting joy and spontaneous revelation that permeate the suites. Why did Janos Starker record them six times? Why so many cellists, from Casals to Rostropovich, shy away for many years from inscribing them on vinyl or CD? Is it perhaps because it so hard to capture the beauty and meaning of live music making? Not long ago, cellist Mischa Maisky, some years after his first recording of the suites, entered a record store which happened to play over the sound system one of the cello suites. Intrigued by the excellent performance displaying an original approach to the cello suites, he approached the clerk and inquired about the performer. To his surprise, the clerk replied: “It is Mischa Maisky, a wonderful Russian artist,” obviously not having recognized the cellist. Maisky was rather shocked that he did not recognize his own recording. I believe that each time we play Bach we change a bit, we see the world through different eyes. Bach’s cello suites are a monument of human achievement and maybe divine inspiration, bigger than any one scholar, performer, or music lover. In my view, the key to understanding them is to be humble, curious, and open to discovering new things.
Every step of the way, a performer is confronted with myriads of decisions, from what edition to use, to stylistic considerations, instrument set-up (modern or Baroque), articulation and fingering, tempi, dynamics, ornaments, tuning, and so much more. The danger is to base these decisions predominantly on intuition and feel; valuable as these tools are, they will only take a performer that far. What will validate one’s choices is knowledge. Start by asking “What did Bach intend when he wrote the cello suites?” Stimulating the affects in the listener, which was the primary aim of the Baroque musicians, must have been in Bach’s mind when he wrote the suites; this goal certainly influenced his choices of keys, articulation, dance forms and all the elements that create the music. As of the rhythm, there is a certain poetic rhetoric – including accentuation, symmetry, and repetition – that is pure logic and elegance. To me, Bach’s music is similar to the rhythms and sounds of the ancient Greek or Roman dramas, akin to Shakespearian rhetoric. The cello suites have more than just affect and musical tricks to tickle the senses. They also have logic and architecture, order and proportion. That’s why the larger harmonic plan, hidden behind a field of beautiful and crafty details that spellbind the listener, must be decoded.
In the cello suites, Bach is musically multi-lingual. For example, we hear French music in the bourées and the double dotted rhythms specific to the French style overtures, we hear the Italian correnti, the sicilienne rhythm of the fifth suite gigue, and the tarantella in the gigue from the fourth suite, we hear the old Spanish feel of the sarabandes, the German spirit in the allemandes, and the English sounds in the gigues.
About this recording
While not a live performance, in this recording I attempted to create the sound and feel of “as if it were happening here and now.” Baroque music is about affect; I attempted to capture the sentiment behind each suite in general and each movement in particular, in tempi, but also in tuning and intonation. Somehow, with the C minor suite I arrived at a lower, darker tuning. We know that Baroque tuning varied from country to country, even from city to city, and we know this from the church organs we have from that time. I used several bows between the six sessions, and the variation in temperature and humidity gave my cello a fit, especially in the August sessions, and I suffered along. Most annoying symptoms were several takes that featured “superb” but unidiomatic squeaks in the Suite no. 4, takes which we had to eliminate completely. Other natural noises, such as percussive left hand sounds, and even a few minor room clicks, were left unedited.
About the edition accompanying the recording
Why another edition? There over 100 different editions, from several scholarly ones published by Bärenreiter to many performer’s editions. And why so many? The fact that Bach’s hand-written manuscript is lost would be a good-enough reason; in the absence of the original music, any attempt to determine Bach’s exact articulation markings is bound to fail. Therefore, many contemporary scholars and cellists are on a quest to reveal and bring to life the spirit behind the notes, and then translate it into markings that are stylistically veridic. This may be a Quixotian quest for the meaning of the music, a Sisyphean attempt to capture the magic between the staff lines. As soon as we think we are about to touch the finish line, we realize that that we are further away. But the beauty is in the journey, and the search for the answers is what has captivated all cellists, other instrumentalists as well, since Casals discovered Grutzmacher’s edition in the second-hand music store in Barcelona.
There are other reasons for this overwhelming number of editions. Bach’s cello suites are multi-dimensional and rich in detail. There is the melodic line, and we all enjoy the rhetoric and horizontal landscape of the melody. The harmony creates wonderful colors and generates the form. The hidden polyphonic texture drives forward the rhythmic energy. So, we – the performers – keep discovering hidden messages there, as if Bach has imbedded a musical puzzle in each movement. The process of discovery is so personal that we all want to share what we find out, the way we play it.
While Bach’s manuscript is lost, we do have other wonderful sources. This version has as its starting point the four eighteenth-century copies, available in facsimile as published by Bärenreiter. These sources are both a curse and blessing; a blessing because we are lucky to have them, not so when we try to compare the versions. Have you tried to play the cello while reading four manuscripts at the same time for comparison? Best known is Anna Magdalena Bach’s copy, dating from sometime between 1727 and 1731. While her other copies of Johann Sebastian’s music, such as the Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, display impeccable clarity and faithfulness to the original, up to the number or bars per line, where even her calligraphy matches her husband’s writing, the copy she made of the cello suites is perhaps a bit rushed, displaying numerous inconsistencies and incertitude about the slurs. The second copy was made by Johann Peter Kellner, an organist who copied many of Bach’s works probably for his own use. However, as he never played the cello, it is unknown why he was interested in the cello suites. His version dates from about 1726, and has many differences from Anna Magdalena’s version in the articulation markings, a few alternate notes, and some missing passages. A third copy came to us from a collection that belonged to Johann Christoph Westphal, a Hamburg printer and music dealer. This copy dates from late eighteenth century. The fourth copy that we have, written by an anonymous scribe, also dates from the same period. In addition, a good source is the first published edition of the cello suites from around 1824, issued by Janet et Cotelle in Paris. In these circumstances, the search for answers is laborious, but fun. Decisions should be made in a historical context, with knowledge of the Baroque performance practice, and fortunately we have many sources that discuss the Baroque style of playing. The scholarly edition published by Bärenreiter in 2000, as well as the same publisher’s edition of August Wenzinger’s interpretation are excellent sources.
This current edition reflects the way I performed the suites in the recording. Bowings and fingerings were chosen primarily based on studying the extant sources, however adapted to practical considerations of accents, tone, voicing, phrasing, string crossings, resonance, and the performer’s endurance, among others. I play the Suite no. 6 on a cello with four strings, and so the edition reflects this fact; a few selected notes were left out in chords in which doubling was present, and only when the chords were practically impossible. In the Suite no. 5 the notes played on the top G string are written in transposition and are in red color, to make it easier to distinguish between notes that could be played either on the G or the D strings. My hope is cellists will find the edition useful and my advice is to use it in tandem with copies of the manuscript.
Notes by Ovidiu Marinescu
© Ovidiu Marinescu
September 2010, West Chester, Pennsylvania

Acknowledgments:
Special thanks to my wife, Sylvia Ahramjian, for her support, musical feedback, and work as Assistant Producer for five recording sessions.
Gratitude goes to all my cello teachers who instilled in me the love and respect for the Bach Suites: Iosif and Anda Calef, Dan Totan, Cornel Faur, Dolores Popa, Wolfgang Laufer, Orlando Cole, Jeffrey Solow, and Kenneth Slowik.
Many thanks go to recording engineer Eugene Lew for highly professional job. David Pasbrig was a wonderful musical partner in the process of editing.
Cellist Mark Cellini and violinist/composer David Brown offered much assistance with the Sibelius software and the electronic engraving of the suites, as well as Zsombor Lazar, who also participated in one session as Assistant Producer. Tom Smith has provided video services for one of the sessions. Robert Rust prepared the trailer video for the Kickstarter fundraising.
To all those who contributed financially to the project: thanks for sharing your friendship and love for music.
Special thanks go to the production team at Parma Recordings.

Hello. Things are moving forward, albeit a bit slower than anticipated. The final edit for the tracks was finished around July 24. Since then, I have been working (with some help) on the edition, entering notes, bowings and fingerings. A lot of tedious work, but exciting. All suites are done, except no 6. Next, program notes (I have a draft), bio, headshot, and a photo album entitled “Playing Bach,” with photos from a live performance. I would say probably in two weeks I'll submit the material to Parma recordings. They will then put it all together, do a brochure design, so I think we are probably looking at a few more months. Nevertheless, I am excited about the final product, something unique, that one cannot find on the market today. And I am pretty pleased with the performance too.

7 PM Rose Hall, U Penn. I will start with the D Major Suite: Allemande and Courante, then Suite no. 1 . January 10 is the final session, after which the editing. So, tomorrow I can really enjoy turkey day (not the country, the bird).

OK. So, next session, will be the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, 7 PM at U Penn - Rose Hall. I will be recording the first suite and the Allemande and Courante from the sixth suite. The sixth is longer and rather more intense, so it will be nice to have ample time for it. I am doing it on a 4 string cello. Diane, can you make it? This would be a great opportunity. I will bring champagne for you.

Since Wednesday I've been in LA working with the Tapestry Ensemble, a chamber group of oboe, clarinet, cello and piano. We had a concert on Thursday, and one more on Sunday. It's been 96 degrees here, a bit balmier than the 39 rainy weather in West Chester. It turns out the the Phillies are in town, playing the Dodgers in the first 2 games of the championship. My last trip to LA, October one year ago, the same was true: the Phillies were in town to play the Dodgers.

In any case, I've found some time to work a bit on the Bach Suites as well, you know, I have two to record yet. I'm also playing them in concert on November 1, at the Delaware County Community College in Media, PA. That's a free concert. http://www.dccc.edu/performingArts/marinescu.html

The Suites I am doing are no.1 and 6, which present such different challenges. The first is arguably the most famous, with the wonderful Prelude. I've been working hard at figuring out the Baroque articulation, and learning the new altered bowings that are more stylistically correct. I found the Allemande to challenge me the most in terms of finding the best articulation. I got it now. The sixth suite was written for a cello with five strings, but I am plying it on my four string cello (which does not have a high E string). That makes a lot of the passages really high, and chords that would normally be using open strings, have to played high on the fingerboard. They are great works though.

A few days ago, well respected painter Olga Dmytrenko decided to offer an original oil to this project, to be used a s a reward for contributions at $1500 or above, along with the Ipod Classic. I was immediately moved by this generous and beautiful thought and also by the spectacular oil offered, which immediately made me think of a peaceful secret spot where we all go when we dream. The oil is listed at $1100.

Title: "Lacus Somniorum" (in English "Lake of Dreams")
Size(HxW): 18x24 in (45x61 cm)
Style: Fantasy, Imagination
Technique: Oil on canvas
Year: 2009
Desc.:
This paintings is an imagination of the Lunar lacus (singular lacus, Latin for for "lake") from a close distance. Lacus Somniorum is a plain located in the northeastern part of the Moon's near side. It is located at selenographic coordinates 38.0° N, 29.2° E, and has a diameter of 384 kilometers. It is the largest of the lunar features designated Lacus. The name is Latin for Lake of Dreams, a title given to this feature by Riccioli, an Italian astronomer who
was the first person to measure the rate of acceleration of a freely falling body.
Lacus Somniorum is an irregular feature with complex, somewhat ill-defined borders. The surface has the same low albedo as the larger lunar mare found on the Moon, and its surface was formed by flows of basaltic lava.

Anytime we launch a new project you wonder how it is going to take off. You believe in the concept and the enthusiasm behind the product, but until you see the first seeds you are never sure. Great to see 3 backers in the first few hours without serious marketing. Welcome and thank you for your pledges.