It's a Bach Day

Well, actually, it's also an "I'm sick, I'm tired, and I can't wait for this week to be over - but hooray for Friday!" day.

But, after a couple of months of a very limited musical diet - exclusively Vivaldi for some weeks, Nina Simone singing "Feeling Good" for my fortieth birthday, then Boy & Bear's version of "Fall At Your Feet", which ticks all the boxes for a superb cover - I've replenished the pile of burnies in the car, and am treating my ears to old friends.

Bach's violin concertos have taught me so much about life. Sometimes a piece of music will grab my attention and yell at me until it's taught me what I need to know. (Yes, I am speaking metaphorically; no need to consult a psychiatrist about possible diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia just yet.) It can be an entire piece, or movement - for example, the first movement of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D (Op. 35), or just a few bars. Those few bars in the third movement of Bach's Double Concerto (BWV 1043) where the music changes from being, if you like, "horizontal" to "vertical" (melodic to chordal) helped me understand that our personalities are not set in stone, but have the capacity to change over time.

Another Bach violin concerto perfectly illustrated an intense moment in my life. It was a few days before I left Adelaide, and I was driving away from my last conversation with my therapist. We had done some excellent work together, so I was rejoicing in the happiness of time spent talking, and the satisfaction of things achieved, but also felt a deep sadness that my professional relationship with him was over. I got into the car and turned on the CD. It was halfway through the second movement of Bach's Concerto for Two Violins in C minor (BWV 1060): the falling cadences and sustained notes matched my melancholy mood. Then, the third movement started; energetic, upbeat, relisient, persistent - all qualities my therapist had identified and fostered within me! If only I were still able to believe in a god, I would have considered this as something "meant to be", or perhaps some sort of cosmic joke - but there is no joke without a joker, and sadly, I can't. Still, it was one of those times when an apparently random musical moment melds perfectly with one's life experience.

Bach also reveals me to myself. The third movement of the Violin Concerto in A Minor (BWV 1041), with that beautifully persistent repeated solo note which holds its own against the pressure of the changing keys and cadences beneath it, reflect my capacity to live a successful life alongside my depression and anxiety. I do bounce back, I do press on, and at the very least - even on days like today when I am weakened by fatigue and infection - I do endure.

So: today is a Bach day. It is a day of reflection; of assessing where I'm at; of recognising my strengths, and acknowledging my capacity to survive - and even thrive!

Finally, I heard Pekka Kuusisto (with Iiro Rantala) perform some superb Finnish jazz trios earlier this year (you can read about the concert here). Pekka remarked, almost in passing, that Bach was the master of improvisation. This gave me a whole new way of being able to listen to his music. Try it! Listen to a piece you know really, really well - I'd suggest BWV 1043 or 1041 as excellent examples  - and imagine hearing them in terms of improvisation. This has given me a lot of joy, and I hope it will bring you joy today, too.