Hidden stories in music ·

Wedding Music That Slept for Two Hundred Years

Pachelbel's Canon, now heard at weddings everywhere, was nearly forgotten for centuries. Three violins chase each other over an eight-note bass.

Pachelbel · Canon · 2 min read

The piece in this story

Canon

Pachelbel · about 5 min

Track info
Michael Fischer v. Mollardrecorded 2015

「Canon」Performed by Michael Fischer v. Mollardrecorded 2015Wikimedia CommonsCC BY 4.0

About the piece, with notes →

As a bride walks in, or in a warm moment in an advert or film, you have surely heard it: a cello slowly treading eight low notes while violins lay a graceful tune on top. This is Johann Pachelbel's Canon. Yet its fame is far more recent than most people think.

Teacher of Bach's brother

Pachelbel was an organist and composer born in Nuremberg, in southern Germany, a generation before Bach. In his lifetime he was well regarded for organ and church music and held organ posts in several cities.

He also had close ties to the Bach family. Bach's eldest brother, Johann Christoph Bach, was his pupil. The young Johann Sebastian, orphaned early, grew up in that brother's house and learned music there, so Pachelbel's teaching may well have reached young Bach by way of his brother.

But as time passed after Pachelbel's death, his name faded. The Canon survived only in an old manuscript copy, asleep on a library shelf. When and why he wrote it is still unknown.

The Canon wakes up

The piece was first published only in the twentieth century. Then, in the later twentieth century, recordings of it spread widely on radio and records, and suddenly the whole world knew it. A piece that had slept for over two hundred years became a wedding favorite.

Singing the same song, one after another

"Canon" is not a title but a method of composing. Think of a round: one person starts a song, and a little later someone else starts the same song from the beginning. Here, three violins begin the identical melody one after another, two bars apart.

Underneath, a low instrument repeats the same eight-note bass line without a break from beginning to end. Over that unchanging floor, the melodies grow faster and more elaborate, then settle again. On a first listen, follow only the first violin. On a second, try to catch the moment the second violin starts the same tune.

A question to think about

Pachelbel's Canon lay forgotten for more than two centuries after its composer's death, then found new love through recordings and broadcasting. Today, by contrast, good work is easily buried unless an algorithm recommends it.

If the choices of a few technologies and companies decide which works are remembered and which are forgotten, is that fair? Whose job is it to rediscover good things that have been forgotten?

Johann Pachelbel1653–1706Read the story of Pachelbel →