Proofreading and Playing — Andrew Braddock

This next step in the process has a dual purpose. On the surface level, we’re essentially proofreading: checking for typos by playing through your transcribed notation. But on a deeper level, we’re beginning to develop our sense of physically playing the music—what the notes themselves are asking us to do. Combining these two purposes makes the mundane (proofreading) much more engaging (actually playing).

The proofreading aspect is simple. Print out your transcription. Yes, actual paper works best here. Grab a trusty red pencil. Play through the music a bunch of times, and use your ear to look out for any wrong notes. Beware of accidentals that didn’t carry through the measure, and make note of any courtesy accidentals that you find beneficial. In particular, beware of bass-clef-to-alto-clef transcription errors. Bass to alto is only one step (plus an octave) different, so an E-flat in bass looks like a D in alto. I made this mistake several times throughout the suite, see below. Rely on your aural knowledge of the suite, but question every note. If it sounds even the slightest bit suspicious, mark it and check the performing edition later.

The proofreading element blends into our larger goal of engaging with the suites on an elemental level. Since there are no bowings, you are forced to account for just the pitches and rhythms. Despite this lack of indicated slurs, you’ll find that logical patterns and groupings begin to emerge. This is one of the first steps of developing your own edition! Don’t mark any slurs or groupings, but simply notice what’s happening with the organization of the notes. For example, I’ve been playing the prelude a lot this week, and this morning, I began to notice how Bach repeatedly injects consecutive tritones into a specific section of the piece (mm. 18–30, culminating in a tritone + an octave in m. 29). No interpretation needed yet: just notice what is happening.

Increasing frequency of consecutive tritones in the Prelude of the Fourth Suite.

The next weeks of the project will be filled with these important moments of discovery. It’s cliché to say that every time you play Bach, you notice something new. You won’t, if you’re just playing it. But, if you’re actively digging around, looking for shreds of information, you’ll start seeing patterns and figures, and notice something you hadn’t seen yesterday. They are mostly simple discoveries on their own, but as you gather them one by one, your relationship with the music deepens and you will begin, bit by bit, building your interpretation of the piece. When I took a Schenkerian analysis class with the great pedagogue Frank Samarotto, he used to say that Bach doesn’t waste a single note, that every note is there for a reason. Looking deeply at this (yes, even through this proofreading step) begins to make this clear.