Patriarch and Primeval Father of harmony.
-L. van Beethoven, on Bach
I’m listening to Bach again.
I listen to Bach because in listening to him I remember- or rediscover, in a different manner with each hearing- what the coalescence of technical brilliance and unexcelled joy sounds like.
I’ve spoken to many who find him boring or characterize him as joyless. It is true that Bach is not showy; his variations play on different aspects of specific melodies. They do not seek unexplored territory; they seek to refine what is known, to press its limits and define its ambit.
What matters it that he worked almost entirely on variations in his music? What matters it that he used forms which existed at his time rather than inventing new ones? This is an integral part of what artists do: seeking to push the known into its furthest limit, to make real things which lurk at the edge of form, known but as yet unseen.
Are Tennyson and Keats boring because their verses retold mythologies already ancient in their time? Are Monet or Rembrandt uninteresting because they painted the same subject repeatedly? Is Donatello’s, Verrochio’s, Michaelangelo’s, or Bernini’s David uninteresting because all four of them portray the same person?
We as humans seek to know what we already know- we retell ancient tales, look at ancient art, listen to tunes which reach back beyond any ancestors of whom we know. We do these things because they remind us of who we are and of what we might be. Bach does that for me: he shows me that which I seek in myself.
If I’m very, very lucky… or very, very, smart… or some combination of the two, perhaps one day I too will make those vows.
And until then, I have his music. It’s not a bad prospect.
So- back to work.