Introduction and motivation:

 

One of the reasons I was drawn to Baroque music was my encounter with the world of allegory and symbolism.


During the lockdown, I was fortunate to have an online lesson with my dear violin professor, Ryo Terakado. In that lesson, I played Bach’s Sonata for Violin and Basso Continuo in E Minor, BWV 1023. When we reached the second movement, Adagio ma non tanto, Ryo paused and asked me, “Do you know about ‘Vanitas’?”

He explained that in old paintings, objects such as fruits, skulls, and musical instruments often carry a symbolic messages—reminding us that nothing is eternal. Everything rots, fades, or dies, and it is precisely this transience that makes them beautiful. In music, this idea can be expressed through messa di voce, slurs, harmonic hierarchies, inégales, inflections, and other subtle nuances.


This perspective we believe from the 16th and 17th centuries struck me deeply. It inspired me to explore further how common knowledge and allegorical ideas of that era were woven into art and, more specifically, how composers translated these philosophical concepts into their music.

Vanitas Still Life with Musical Instruments and Flowers in a Silver Tripod Vase, Anonymous, 1620-1699, Benthall hall, England (National Trust)

I will never forget my very first historical violin lesson in Tokyo, around 12 years ago. I was playing Geminiani’s The Art of Playing on the Violin when my beloved teacher, Kaori Toda, shared something that left a deep impression on me: scales moving up or down can symbolise the journey to heaven or descent to the earth.

Also in Historically Informed Performance theory classes, we developed deeper into these symbolic meanings in Baroque music. We learned that a sharp sign (#) represents the cross (Kreuz) and the Passion of Christ, while keys with three sharps (###) allude to the Holy Trinity (△). Musical gestures, too, carry hidden messages: descending four notes motif (Lamento) and descending chromatic fourth (Passus Duriusculus) evoke tears and suffering. In Biber’s Rosary Sonata No.1 ("The Annunciation"), the rapid thirty-second notes beautifully depict the fluttering wings of Angel Gabriel, while Maria’s perplexity is reflected in the harmonies. In the penultimate bar, the stacked thirds symbolize the connection between heaven, earth, and hell.

 

These are just a few examples, yet they opened my eyes to the profound layers of meaning embedded in Baroque music—an artistic language that continues to fascinate and inspire people.

Memo from my score of "The Anunciation", Biber's Rosary Sonata No.1 in D Minir for Violin and Basso Continuo. manuscript, c.1678

Annunciazione di Recanati, Lorenzo Lotto, c.1534, Museo civico Villa Colloredo Mels, Recanati.

This painting was introduced by Enrico Onofri, when I had masterclasses with him in Urbino, Italy in Summer 2024. He points out that this painting is of course much earlier than Biber's time, but it is the iconic idea/theme of the Annunciazionehttps://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annunciazione_di_Recanati

As musicians, our mission is to bring music to a wider audience, making its depth and meaning accessible to all. I aspire to do this through lecture-concerts and outreach programs, where, together with the audience, we decipher the hidden messages embedded within the music.

For this reason, I have chosen J.S. Bach’s Sei Solo—the Six Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin—as the focal point of my study. This work is not only widely known and performed but also holds profound layers of meaning that remain largely unexplored. Yet, despite its significance, I have found no substantial research analyzing the connection between allegory, symbolism, and Bach’s solo violin works.

This research is dedicated to all curious minds drawn to the deeper narratives in music—from those encountering J.S. Bach for the first time to lifelong admirers, students, and professional musicians alike.