Why fugue, and how to compose one?
Musical fugue is one among few things that really matters to me and constantly make my heart blooms, giving some reason to live on. Soon after I started composing music, I dove straight into fugue by listening to a lot of them, mostly by J.S.Bach, Beethoven, and Shostakovich. I read as much as possible about it no matter how obscure the source was. I studied musical scores of Bach's fugues. And finally, which is most importantly, I composed them.
You can start to grasp what the fugue is by thinking of it as a dance. Imagine a dance of 4 dancers, Dancer A enters and dance on his own, then dancer B comes in and dance like what dancer A has just did, while dancer A continues in the new set of formation which is in harmony with but different from dancer B. From now on A and B dance together for a while, then dancer C comes in, dancing exactly like when dancer A starts, then dancer D comes, imitating dancer C while C is doing other different yet harmonious thing. When C and D are doing their stuffs, dancer A and B continues using old and new pattern which are harmonious with each other and harmonious with anything C and D are doing. This is the 'exposition' or the starting part of fugue.
Then the fugue continues into its episodes which can be many. Each episode consists of new material that has some elements that reminds audience of the starting material. These materials are presented in ever changing creative ways, like flipping upside down ('inversion'), imitating in a shorter sequence without waiting for each voice to finish ('stretto'), changing the 'home' pitch ('modulation'), act as if to reiterate the main subject but only shortly just to 'tease' the audience ('false entry'), stripping off the rhythmic structure, reducing the notes in the subject to a simpler rhythm ('diminution'). The list goes on and on and there are infinite ways to combine these techniques to make each episode interesting, engaging, yet coherent with the overall structure.
When the composer if satisfied, the fugue enters its ending period. The fugue shifts to the home key ('tonic') and sounding the main subject with imitations similar to the beginning part, and turn out onto an ending sequence ('coda') that ends with one a common formula ('cadence').
All of these seems very abstract, and even mathematical, yet when done right, it is one of the most fascinating thing that human can produce and perceive. How does the original pattern occurs again and again together with new patterns and make everything proceeds in time in beautiful and coherent way? How does dancer A interact with B, C, and D, and how does dancer C interact with A,B, and D, by a restricted method yet endlessly varied and utterly united. A good fugue is notoriously difficult to compose because it demands much more from a composer than other 'freer' forms. One does not only need knowledge of structure and techniques to compose a fugue, but a lot of creativity, imagination, and patience to work under a highly restrictive procedure. To the best of my knowledge, the last substantive set of fugue was composed by Shostakovich in 1951 – more than 60 years ago. The best set of fugues was of course composed by J.S.Bach who lived during 1685-1750.
For me, fugues contain every beauty and intricacy of nature in its minuscule shell. The truth of nature is starkly simple. But it is so simple that it can be manifested in an endless variety with unlimited depth and intricacies. Every hearing of a fugue, we are absorbed by its beauty, its magnificence, yet struggle to take in the grande complications that is in fact so simple. Listening to a fugue both enlighten and strain us to the limit, depending on how deep you would like to go to. One feels so small when listening to a fugue's representation of the magnificent nature, yet we feel hopeful and satisfied that we are starting to reach for and acquire a glimpse of the ultimate truth.
You can start to grasp what the fugue is by thinking of it as a dance. Imagine a dance of 4 dancers, Dancer A enters and dance on his own, then dancer B comes in and dance like what dancer A has just did, while dancer A continues in the new set of formation which is in harmony with but different from dancer B. From now on A and B dance together for a while, then dancer C comes in, dancing exactly like when dancer A starts, then dancer D comes, imitating dancer C while C is doing other different yet harmonious thing. When C and D are doing their stuffs, dancer A and B continues using old and new pattern which are harmonious with each other and harmonious with anything C and D are doing. This is the 'exposition' or the starting part of fugue.
Then the fugue continues into its episodes which can be many. Each episode consists of new material that has some elements that reminds audience of the starting material. These materials are presented in ever changing creative ways, like flipping upside down ('inversion'), imitating in a shorter sequence without waiting for each voice to finish ('stretto'), changing the 'home' pitch ('modulation'), act as if to reiterate the main subject but only shortly just to 'tease' the audience ('false entry'), stripping off the rhythmic structure, reducing the notes in the subject to a simpler rhythm ('diminution'). The list goes on and on and there are infinite ways to combine these techniques to make each episode interesting, engaging, yet coherent with the overall structure.
When the composer if satisfied, the fugue enters its ending period. The fugue shifts to the home key ('tonic') and sounding the main subject with imitations similar to the beginning part, and turn out onto an ending sequence ('coda') that ends with one a common formula ('cadence').
All of these seems very abstract, and even mathematical, yet when done right, it is one of the most fascinating thing that human can produce and perceive. How does the original pattern occurs again and again together with new patterns and make everything proceeds in time in beautiful and coherent way? How does dancer A interact with B, C, and D, and how does dancer C interact with A,B, and D, by a restricted method yet endlessly varied and utterly united. A good fugue is notoriously difficult to compose because it demands much more from a composer than other 'freer' forms. One does not only need knowledge of structure and techniques to compose a fugue, but a lot of creativity, imagination, and patience to work under a highly restrictive procedure. To the best of my knowledge, the last substantive set of fugue was composed by Shostakovich in 1951 – more than 60 years ago. The best set of fugues was of course composed by J.S.Bach who lived during 1685-1750.
For me, fugues contain every beauty and intricacy of nature in its minuscule shell. The truth of nature is starkly simple. But it is so simple that it can be manifested in an endless variety with unlimited depth and intricacies. Every hearing of a fugue, we are absorbed by its beauty, its magnificence, yet struggle to take in the grande complications that is in fact so simple. Listening to a fugue both enlighten and strain us to the limit, depending on how deep you would like to go to. One feels so small when listening to a fugue's representation of the magnificent nature, yet we feel hopeful and satisfied that we are starting to reach for and acquire a glimpse of the ultimate truth.