Bach's cello suites are a towering accomplishment of baroque music. Taking a single, ostensibly monophonic instrument and utilizing all of its abilities and intracacies Bach created some of the most iconic music of all time. Enjoying thousands of recordings since they were first recorded in the thirties by Pablo Casals, from the terribly over-rated (Yo-Yo Ma) to the terribly underrated (Thomas Demenga), these pieces of music have inspired for centuries, yet they have been lacking one thing: a clickbait ranking.
I've scoured the relevant literature for a proper treatment of the relative qualities of the movements of Bach's cello suites and have come away woefully disappointed. I found decidedly little, and what little I did find was decidedly mistaken, so as a gift unto mankind and his posterity I have taken it upon myself to settle the matter once and for all.
What you find before you is the definitive, final, authoratative, and likely divinely inspired ranking of all 36 movements of Bach's cello suites. This is not my ranking, but simply the truth.
You can find the Spotify playlist here. Note that the playlist, unlike this post, is in descending order. Alternatively, you can click on the names of the titles to be taken to their recordings.
The cello suites were composed in the years around 1720, when Bach was Chapel Master at Köthen. The six suites are partitioned into six movements each, each movement (save for the prelude) named after a type of dance, despite the suites not being for dancing. For every suite the first four movements proceed as follows: prelude, allemande, courante, sarabande. The sixth movement is a gigue. The fifth movement, for every suite, is a pair of two: menuets for the first two suites, bourreés for the third and fourth, and gavottes for the last two.
The second and fifth suites are in minor keys, while all others are in major. Unique among the suites, the sixth was written for a five stringed cello, which makes it considerably more difficult to play than the other suites, but also makes it the most varied and interesting.
The cello suites were not particularly well known before the twentieth century. This changed when Spanish cellist Pablo Casals became the first to record them in their entirety, doing so between 1936 and 1939. Since then they have been recorded hundreds if not thousands of times, becoming some of the most well-known and performed pieces of music in history.
Many classical music people act as if you are somehow obligated to like this particular movement, even going so far as calling it the "heart and soul" of the suites. If they think the heart of these suites is sparse and cold I suppose they're right, but that simply ain't so. Unharmonized, slow, dreadful (in the literal sense), this movement is the antithesis of the joy that runs through the rest of the suites. This movement may be well suited for funerals and shotgun weddings, but you certainly won't find anyone listening to it on the bus. This is the worst of all the movements.
This is a nice piece, as all these movements are, but it's a little too slow and somber. The entire time you're waiting for it to go somewhere but it never does.
A nice, slow piece that functions better as background music, like many of the sarabandes.
This movement goes places, but it takes its sweet time. Again, like many of the sarabandes, it works better as background music and connective material than something you'd want to listen to intently on its own.
This is a much more interesting movement than the lower ranked movements, but gets this ranking because you hear the entire piece in the opening bar. It provides very little variation, which is fine, plenty of great music is repetetive, but when so many other movements do such much more it's hard to justify placing it much higher. Aside from a few brief moments, one of which is actually quite intense, you get the same even delivery of eighth notes for the whole movement.
A slow piece, quaint and nice. Nothing to write home about, but enjoyable and sweet.
This movement, along with its accompanying prelude, establishes the sorrow conveyed by Suite 2. Even and mournful, this is a piece that would go well at a funeral (in a good way), as it offers a glimpse of hope on occasion.
This lovely movement is peaceful, yet has a tinge of sadness. Commencing with an opening very similar to the prelude of Suite 3, it goes on to provide us with the rhythmic variation the prelude of Suite 4 lacked, while also removing some of the energy.
A tragic beginning to the most tragic of the suites. A patient and longing melody carries us through with little variation, as if resigned to its fate, until the ending brings us the only chords of the movement. This is a great establishment for the rest of the suite to build on.
Beginning with a playful downward C Major arpeggio, as opposed to the C Major scale that opens the prelude of this suite, this movement then creates a very dancey vibe with consistently alternating rhythms, but the cello eventually takes over and the variations and complexity end up compromising that. This movement never takes a rest.
This movement concludes the sombre second suite with a peculiar vivacity. Typically accelerating, this gigue pauses from time to time to catch its breath before going right back to energetic runs. The final bar in this movement, and thus the suite, concludes with a Picardy third of A Major, after having recently modulated there.
A delightful and varied opening to the third suite. The beginning of this movement builds up our anticipation with a descending C Major scale and rewards that anticipation with all sorts of devices, sixteenth-note runs, pedal tones, chords, all before ending on with the same descending scale that opened the movement followed by a rich C chord.
An utterly delightful tune in two parts. The first menuet is playful, with a repeated motif of a descending fourth followed by a descending fifth, much as in the opening to the courante earlier in the same suite.
The second movement, however, is not playful at all. It begins simply and solemly on the B flat, marking the change to G Minor. Oddly enough, however, the key signature lacks an E flat, suggesting this menuet was written in Dorian. Gradually this second menuet garners more complexity, but doesn't shed its solmnity, and when we return to the first menuet it has become recontextualized, and feels different despite being the same.
A contemplative, sombre, slow tune. Beginning with a low D Minor chord that utilizes all four strings, the mood is made known from the outset. Following the opening chord in the lowest part of the cello there is an climb upward, where we get some flourishes. There are few four note chords elsewhere in this movement, but on the occasions they show up we're reminded of the presence of four voices. This movement flows from passage to passage, but nowhere in particular.
Much snappier than the other allemandes, this movement grows and steadily adds more energy. There are a few moments that excite - a tease of a modulation to G, low pedal tones accompanying climbing double stops - but those moments don't develop into anything truly climactic.
These bourreés both have consistent rhythmic signatures that repeat throughout, though those signatures differ a great deal from one another. The first is lively and bouncy, utilizing a short burst of sixteenth notes driving upward. The second bourreé is similar to the second gavotte from the sixth suite in its simple, plodding rhythm and harmonization with regular quarter notes from the bass. A lovely piece, despite being a little repetetive.
Out the gate this movement displays some extremely varied rhythmic content, with triplets, eighth notes, sixteenth notes, and quarter notes, which become the basis of the forward momentum for the rest of the movement.
A noticeable passage of this movement is the progression about the circle of fifths at the beginning of the second section, which culminates with a great deal of energy, yet that energy always feels like it's building for something that, unfortunately, only arrives later in the suite.
This movement seems to be striving for joy, but is restrained by the C minor of the suite, and so communicates a tragedy throughout. Much like the gavottes before it, there is a lingering sense of the joy that could have been. Nevertheless, this movement is snappy and fun. While the second suite conveys more tragedy, this movement effectively sends off a suite that used its minor key in more musically interesting ways, if less emotionally affecting.
Yep. The most famous of all the movements, by orders of magnitude, is right in the middle. It's kind of frustrating how a piece can become one of the most recognizable pieces of music in the world despite being situated around over a dozen better movements. Frustration aside, however, it is still a great piece.
Written in a moto perpetuo style of constant sixteenth-notes, this is a movement where performers often take liberties with the rhythm, as is intended, and so this movement has seen many different interpretations (obviously). Unfortunately, the subject matter isn't complex enough to warrant so many interpretations, and many end up being quite similar. This movement alternates between stepwise motion and arpeggiation to create pleasing variety in the face of rhythmic homogeneity.
Short and sweet, joyful and playful, this movement concludes the first suite with liveliness in a suite characterized more by restraint, which makes it a very welcome movement. Bounding up and down in volume, pitch, and speed, this movement is a pure delight and never fails to bring cheer. As the gigue, however, it's a bit on the short side.
A lovely tune delivering a consistent wave of notes that feel like triplets, but are really eighth-notes in 12 / 8 time. The consistency and timing of this movement make it one of the most danceable. Eminently enjoyable and pleasing, but also one of the less adventuous gigues in the suites.
A rhapsodic, powerful, and climactic conclusion to the third suite. This movement builds and builds, adding ever more complexity and interest, having a particularly explosive section occuring at the one-third and two-third points full of double stops, pedal tones, and sixteenth notes. This is an epic and exciting movement.
If Jon Snow had a theme song, this would be it, because this piece is brooding. An oddity of this suite is that performers often detune their A string to G, a full step lower. This causes there to be more resonance and depth given the key of G Minor, but can also be confusing to performers. Bach even notated the original score one step higher than is sounded, to allow performers to sight read at the expense of this confusion to their ears.
This prelude is actually a prelude and fugue, the fugue beginning abruptly at bar 26, when the time signature changes from common time to, oddly enough, 3 / 8. This is the only fugue in the entirety of the suites and is notable for its lack of harmony. In a set of suites full of chordal movements you would think that the only fugue would have some, but Bach deemed otherwise, and creates a very interesting effect by doing so, a testament to his skill and inventiveness as a composer.
The lowest ranked of Suite 6 (but the highest ranked Sarabande by far) places a respectable 13th. A beautiful, soothing melody that provides peace in a particularly energetic suite. This movement is reminiscent of the same suite's Allemande, and is in many senses a smaller version of that movement. It maintains its unique character, however, with richer chords and more inventive polyphony, while having less emotional weight. This is a piece that soothes and reassures.
One of the most richly harmonized movements of all the suites, this movement is firmly rooted in C Minor yet still manages to get through to us a liveliness and jollity, as if it is soldiering on through hardship. The first gavotte is a tour through all sorts of different rhythms, while the second provides a consistent driving sixteenth note rhythm that flows nicely, though abruptly, back to the first.
This is the longest and most emotional of all the movements. A stirring, haunting melody set to peaceful yet yearning chords. This is the kind of music that can be played at a funeral or a wedding; it is both tragic and hopeful, restrained and reaching. This movement comes much needed after the whirlwind of the movement that precedes it, and is a perfect example of how Bach inspired many of the Romantic composers after him.
The first menuet is powerful and stately. It is in D Minor and it makes sure you know. The second menuet, on the other hand, is a calm detour through D Major, unadorned and relaxing, if a bit less interesting. The most surprising moment of the menuets is hearing what you heard before; the transition from the second menuet back to the first startles with its suddenness, making you almost offended on behalf of the second menuet that the first cuts in again.
The best movement of the second suite. This movement is virtuosic and intense. A flurry of sixteenth notes hit you throughout, alternating between minor and major tonalities the whole way through. The cello shoots up and crashes down, a movement-long climax in the middle of the tragic second suite.
This movement, perhaps more than any other, has more to be discovered each listen. Clearly written as four voices, the bass voice is front and center, making it slow and thoughtful, yet also intense and commanding. Full of delightful twists and variations, this is one you could put on repeat for an hour and not get bored.
This light-hearted fun tune expands on the ideas present in the first suite's courante, adding ever more energy and power. Particularly noticeable is the rapid sixteenth note assault in the opening bars lasting almost ten whole seconds. This movement simply does not rest, and is thrilling from start to finish.
An instantly appealing piece and the best of Suite 3. The first bourreé is a simple and lively statement of alternating rhythms and memorable melody. The second is a restrained counterpart to the first; reserved and tense, it seems as though it is always holding back, which only makes the restatement of the first bourreé more impactful.
The final movement of the final suite is full of energy and opportunities for virtuosos to show off: rapid sixteenth notes, double stops, arpeggios, leaps and bounds between highs and lows, Bach brings it all to a close with this, and it's understandable why. While the finale of the sixth suite may lack the melodic interest of the gavotte or the wonder of the prelude, it is certainly Bach at his finest.
The best movement in a minor key. Beginning with a forceful and startling octave from the lowest note on the cello, this movement briefly strays into a major mood, but quickly descends back into minor, where it stays save for brief moments. This movement is stern and direct and serious, but also has an undeniable energy and intensity.
This is the only courante in 3 / 2 time; all others are in a more typical 3/4. This contributes to the sense delivered throughout the movement, that it feels like a dance, yet something is off. The phrases are too pointed, the timing too strict. It's a sense that is both unsettling and wonderfully interesting, and what makes this movement so interesting despite being so short.
The third of all the movements, and the best of the first suite, gets third. This is the first movement in which we see true liveliness; movement one is gentle and consistent, and the second is slow and plodding, but this movement is bouncing between fast eighth-notes and slurred sixteenth-notes in a style clearly reminiscent of the dances from which all these movements derive their names.
Despite being expanded upon in the courante of the last suite, this movement places higher, as its simplicity is part of what makes it so great. A beautiful, celebratory, and just plain fun movement, this is one of Bach's best.
Also, as an aside, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Peter Gregson's delightful recomposition of this piece.
The penultimate movement gets the penultimate placing. Here we see the most melodic movement of them all, and undoubtedly one of the most memorable. The closest thing to a pop tune in the cello suites, and it's pretty close, the first gavotte almost demands a lyrical setting (and might already have one? There is an undeniable likeness to Heart and Soul), while the second gavotte invites dancing with its pulsing pedal tone on the tonic.
This movement is certainly the most accessible to those uncultured swine who think classical music is boring, but is also thoroughly enjoyable for high-brow snobs as well. It's truly music for everyone, but isn't quite the best movement of them all. That honor goes distinctly to another movement of Suite 6.
What can be said of perfection?
The prelude to Suite 6, the only movement of all the suites Bach gave dyanmic markings, is everything from the rest of the cello suites and more in a single movement. If, as Rostropovich claimed, the sixth suite triumphs over the whole cycle, its first movement triumphs over the whole suite. Enchanting and soaring melodies, uplifting and joyful harmonies, powerful timbres and thrilling arpeggios, this movement has everything.
Initiating with a powerful statement reminiscent of the opening to the wonderfully exuberent Nun ist das Heil und die Kraft (likely composed shortly after Cello Suite 6) around the tonic of D Major, it then breifly alternates between the tonic and subdominant before descending into an assault of contrapunal ferocity. We are carried through a tour of the cello and of the creativity and imagination peculiar to baroque music. The phrase that begins the piece is recapitulated throughout to bring us in and out of various tonal centers, where we are brought to tragic lows and epic highs, in every sense: minor and major, slow and fast, warm and bright, and in every combination possible.
Of particular note is the climax of the piece about two thirds of the way through, when a pedal tone on the dominant ramps up the anticipation to an almost unbearable degree. From this apex we are brought back into the lower register by rapid-fire arpeggios before returning to familiar territory. Despite the intensity and variety, we are somehow left unscathed at the end, as if having been carried gently through a whirlwind. At the finale we are finally brought to rest, brought back home to D Major, whirling from exhilaration.
This movement is truly the greatest piece of music ever written for the cello. T.H. White may have claimed that "if you achieve perfection, you die," but Bach proves with this movement that perfection gives ever more life.
Now that we've ranked the individual movements, we can rank the suites themselves. Below is each suite ranked by the average ranking of its movements (lower is better).
No surprise that the sixth suite towers over the others, but the degree to which it does so is surprising. It's definitely very much helped by its solid sarabande, the movement that dragged down all the other suites, and the fact that it claimed the top two spots.
Speaking of sarabandes, lets look at the average rankings of the individual movements.
Clearly sarabandes are not for me, while courantes very much are.
Of course, it's silly to rank pieces of music. The quality of a piece of music is always relative to its purpose, and different pieces of music have different purposes. Any disco song is vastly superior to anything by Bach if your purpose is nostalgia for the seventies. That being said, sometimes it's fun to rank things in a completely arbitrary and personal way. I, in case you didn't notice, have a bias toward movements with lots of energy and excitement.
If you totally disagree (my last-place is probably a little controversial) feel free to make your own (wrong) list; thinking about the music you love and why you love it is a great exercise, and helps you get to know it better.