109: Brandenburg IV

 This next Brandenburg Concerto, the fourth, is, like 2 before it and 5 after it, a concerto grosso. Using Corelli’s Christmas Concerto as a template, I’ve covered concerti grossi before, so I highly recommend you check that article out before continuing here. Like the third, it’s in G major. (But the pattern of couples in the same key will not extend any further; 1 and 2 were in F, and 3 and 4 are in G, but 5 and 6 are not in the same key.)

In the first movement, notice how simple the melodic elements really are at their core: really, just broken chords. Bach also wrote several noteworthy works—BWV 846, for example—in this framework, and after more than 25 years, it still amazes me how much he can do with something so simple.

There’s also a delightful contrast built into the scoring of this concerto that’s worth paying attention to. Instead of the more typical solo group you might expect in a concerto grosso, Bach gives us a violin and two recorders (or flutes, depending on the performance). The timbral difference alone is striking: the violin, bright and agile, weaving in and out of the softer, almost pastoral sound of the recorders. It’s not the kind of contrast that hits you over the head like the trumpet in the second concerto, but it’s subtle in a way that rewards careful listening.

The second movement shifts us into E minor, and here the texture thins out considerably. The recorders drop out entirely, leaving the violin to carry the melodic weight over a continuo line that feels almost hypnotic in its steadiness. Compared to the intellectual playfulness of the first movement, this one feels more introspective, almost meditative. It’s a reminder that Bach, for all his reputation as a technical master, had a real gift for mood and atmosphere as well.

There’s nothing flashy here—no virtuosic fireworks—but it lingers with you in a different way.

Then, in the third movement, we’re right back into G major and into something much more lively. This is where the concerto grosso aspect really comes alive again, with the soloists and the full ensemble trading material back and forth in a way that feels almost conversational. Like the first movement, there’s a lot built out of relatively simple material, but now it’s less about broken chords and more about rhythmic drive and interplay between the parts. If you’ve been listening closely up to this point, you’ll start to notice how Bach reuses and transforms ideas across movements—not in an obvious, thematic way, but in the underlying gestures and patterns.

Taken as a whole, the fourth concerto feels like a study in contrast: not just between soloists and ensemble, but between brightness and subtlety, complexity and simplicity. It doesn’t announce itself as boldly as some of the others in the set, but the more time you spend with it, the more it reveals.

Here are some great recordings:

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHyzQf38F6w

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oSZJ__GIbms

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6hQvvhqfJo

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tp_WeHUKoXM

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uuqt-qMFwAM


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