Accende Lumen Sensibus

This morning I decided to listen to the Latin hymn "Veni Creator Spiritus." The hymn is a prayer to the Holy Spirit asking that He visit our minds, fill our hearts with divine grace, and kindle a light for our senses. The melismatic Gregorian chant conveyed a warm, organic, spiritual feeling. Unbeknownst to me, "Veni" was a prelude to a greater piece of music, one which would fulfill the prayer of the hymn: Mahler's Symphony no. 5.

Yes, I listened to all 70 glorious minutes.

There is an ineffability about music; whatever I will say in this post will fall terribly short of what I intend to convey. In fact, this is the greatest difficulty of talking about music. There's a sort of cliche that music "says the unsayable," or that "music reveals to a man an unkown realm... a world in which he leaves behind all precise feelings in order to embrace an inexpressible longing (E.T.A. Hoffman, "Beethoven's Instrumental Music," quoted in Steven R. Guthrie, Creator Spirit)," or yet: "Talking about music is like dancing about architecture"; or, in the words of composer Aaron Copland (who happened to be a good friend of conductor Leonard Bernstien): "Is there a meaning to music? My answer would be 'Yes.'... 'Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?' My answer to that would be, 'No.'" Nevertheless, this is a blog post, and I must use words  – I can't dance for the life of me.

What I wish to focus on is the fourth movement of the symphony, the famous Adagietto:

Watch the video. You won't ever regret it.

 This movement is unusual for a symphony, since it employs only the strings and a harp. Like Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings, the Adagietto is associated with sadness and death, Mahler's piece having been conducted by Bernstein during Robert Kennedy's funeral Mass and Barber's having been broadcast over and played at the funerals of such figures as Franklin D. Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Albert Einstein, and Princess Diana, and the two pieces also bear musical similarity. However, some recent studies indicate that Mahler never intended to convey feelings of melancholy. Rather, Mahler wrote the Adagietto as a love letter to his eventual wife, Alma Schindler. Mahler certainly didn't intend to have the movement push thirteen, fourteen minutes, since at the 1904 premiere of the symphony the Adagietto was played in seven minutes under his baton. Perhaps a reason for the gradual slowing of performances of the piece is that the piece, marked adagietto, a term which denotes a faster tempo than adagio, is also confusingly marked "Sehr langsam" (very slow) and in the score there are musical directions like "zurueckhaltend" (held back) and "zoegernd" (hesitantly).  (The difference between Elgar's 12-minute recording of his Serenade for Strings and the longer recordings of later conductors is a similar phenomenon, although Elgar's take on his famous Larghetto clocks in at the standard six minutes.)

But enough about the technical details. The Adagietto under Bernstein's baton is the most beautiful experience I've had with a piece of music in a long time. By the end of the video, I had experienced that "inexpressible longing" which music accomplishes in a musician or listener, and in the inevitable subsequent letdown I was walking as if in a trance, breathing heavily, shaking my head intermittently, and wiping tears that rimmed my eyes. The last time I had experienced something similar with a piece of music was when I listened to Eric Whitacre's "The Seal Lullaby"; the last concert piece that brought me to tears was the under-appreciated "Adagio di molto" from Sibelius' Violin Concerto. To be honest, I had listened to this piece multiple times before but was never greatly affected; in fact, the delayed effect of a music piece happens fairly often with me: Bach's solo violin sonatas and concertos, Brahms' Violin Concerto, Beethoven's late string quartets, and Shostakovich's quartets all took some time in affecting me (they aren't "cheap shots" like the banal Canon in D, the overly sentimental Meditation from "Thais," or the excessively bombastic finale of Dvorak's "New World" Symphony, which I have to admit is still an awesome work regardless).The Adagietto has to be one of the closest copies of Plato's form of Beauty. The Adagietto conveys a greater sense of warmth, organicity, and spirituality than does "Veni Creator Spiritus," at least to my ears. Of course, they are two extremely different works – one is a concert piece, the other a sung prayer – but to me they related to each other by the Adagietto being the answer to the prayer that the Spirit  "visit our minds, fill our hearts with divine grace, and kindle a light for our senses." Experiences like this are what make music worthwhile (or what makes life not "a mistake," as Nietzsche would have it). "The world is charged with the grandeur of God," Gerard Manley Hopkins says; I think Mahler's Fifth is charged with just a bit more of God's grandeur.

(As I wrote this, Mahler's Eighth was playing in the background. It may be charged with even more grandeur.)

Bach and His Consequences

Bach

Johann Sebastian Bach is perhaps the most respected and influential composer in the history of music and the composer I love the most (for now, at least). His mastery of contrapuntal harmony, familiarity with and innovation in musical styles and forms, and sheer musical genius have secured this honor. Interestingly, during his day he was not nearly as popular  as other composers such as Georg Philipp Telemann and George Frideric Handel. He was a master organist and was most famous for being one while he lived, although never reaching the status that Telemann or Handel enjoyed. While occupying different jobs over the years and in different places in Germany, Bach wrote a staggering amount of music, most of which were left unpublished during his lifetime. Here, since I enjoy quotes, I shall insert some quotes (presumably) by J.S. Bach:

“Music is an agreeable harmony for the honor of God and the permissible delights of the soul.”

“I play the notes as they are written, but it is God who makes the music.”  

“The final aim and reason of all music is nothing other than the glorification of God and the refreshment of the spirit.” 

“There's nothing remarkable about it. All one has to do is hit the right keys at the right time and the instrument plays itself.” 

“What I have achieved by industry and practice, anyone else with tolerable natural gift and ability can also achieve.” 

“If I decide to be an idiot, then I’ll be an idiot on my own accord.”

 Bach is also famous for writing J.J. (Jesu Juva -- Jesus, help) and S.D.G. (Soli Deo Gloria -- Glory to God alone) over his musical works.

Bach died at the age of 65, presumably of a stroke, following two botched eye surgeries. Bach and his "old-fashioned" music fell into obscurity for some time as the new Classical musical style took the place of thethBaroque.
(I admit that I haven't read too much about Bach's life. I do have a biography, which I have not read entirely, and a copy of Bach's obituary, which I have finished. In light of Bach's greatness and the regard that many have for him, I don't think that I've made him sound as cool as this:)

Not that this is anywhere near Bach's actual coolness

However, Bach's influence survived. Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven were all familiar with some of Bach's works and sometimes dabbled with contrapuntal music (the stuff that Bach did in his sleep). Then, along came Felix Mendelssohn, one of the greatest prodigies ever. Mendelssohn was responsible for the revival of Bach's music, and Bach eventually became more famous than he ever was during his lifetime. As a result of this Bach revival, more than 1000 of Bach's works are now cataloged and published, and Bach is now known as one the greatest composers of all time (although his organ-, harpsichord-, violin-, viola-, and I-don't-know-what-else-playing has been forgotten -- perhaps if people only listened to his recordings more; he was such a thrilling performer).

His Consequences

Bach's genius is rightly appreciated today and is influential to countless of musicians, composers, and listeners. We have beautiful compositions by those who tried to imitate his style, amazing interpretations of Bach's works by performers, and classical-music converts who changed their minds about that weird old music that guys in wigs play (Classical music is tight yo). Just to show how much he is appreciated (or, in some terrible cases, worshiped), here are some more quotes:

"Not Brook but Ocean should be his name."
   - Ludwig Van Beethoven ("Bach" is the German word for "brook")

 Whether the angels play only Bach praising God, I am not quite sure. 

- Karl Barth 

Bach is Bach, as God is God.

   - Hector Berlioz  

To strip human nature until its divine attributes are made clear, to inform ordinary activities with spiritual fervor, to give wings of eternity to that which is most ephemeral; to make divine things human and human things divine; such is Bach, the greatest and purest moment in music of all time.

   - Pablo Casals (cellist)

 ..the greatest Christian music in the world...if life had taken hope and faith from me, this single chorus would restore all.

   - Felix Mendelssohn  

Bach is the beginning and end of all music.

   - Max Reger 

 I had no idea of the historical evolution of the civilized world's music and had not realized that all modern music owes everything to Bach.

   - Niccolai Rimsky-Korsakov

Bach is ... a terminal point. Nothing comes from him; everything merely leads to him.

   - Albert Schweitzer (not surprising)

Study Bach. There you will find everything.

   - Johannes Brahms 

Bach's influence on composers following Mozart is undeniable. We have Mendelssohn's fugues (which stemmed from his study of Bach), Chopin's preludes (some of which explicitly remind the listener of Bach), Max Reger's organ works (which draw from Bach's vast ocean of organ compositions), Dmitri Shostakovich's 24 Preludes and Fugues (patterned after Bach's Well-tempered Clavier), and Eugene Ysaye's 6 Sonatas for Solo Violin (which follows the 6 Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin archetype), for example. Bach himself seems to have anticipated musical Romanticism; some of his preludes sound like Chopin nocturnes; and the slow movement from Bach's double violin concerto almost sounds like Brahms (or, perhaps, Brahms sounds like Bach).
However, some things that the revival of Bach has (unintentionally) spawned are not exactly "refreshing to the spirit" for some people. These are all 20th century music figures, and, unsurprisingly, are met with polarized reactions. If you are used to Bach as he is usually played (the dry, dull, and *gasp* orthodox way) or if you are used to the Bach-Beethoven-Brahms harmony and pleasing-to-the-ear-ness, these guys are probably not your cup of tea.
For instance:

This guy:

The piano is uncomfortable.

The pianist Glenn Gould. He plays Bach more than any other composer. In fact, Bach is his desert-island composer. He does all kinds of stuff with Bach: pick out melodies that aren't even supposed to be there, hit the keys so that every note gets justice, and add little stuff to Bach's works that no one else (except maybe another strange fellow, Friedrich Gulda) would dare to do. He turns his torso around while playing, as exemplified in the video below. He hums Bach (I don't know how) while playing and is notorious for doing so.

I love this guy. I even try to imitate him sometimes, which makes my mother and sister shake their heads. Here's why:

Weird fellow. If you don't exactly like him, you're in good company. Gould has many "haters". He is unorthodox with his interpretations (whatever that means) and has earned the fury of many purists. I have loved Gould's music since I first heard him, but my opinion is not objective. 

And then we have another strange spawn of Bach:

Bela Bartok's Solo Violin Sonata

I apologize if Bach's influence isn't obvious. I mentioned before that Bach wrote a set of six sonatas and partitas for solo violin, and this set (or finished up) the foundation for all solo violin repertoire that would follow.

The video above is the fugue from the Bartok sonata. It isn't easy listening, but I eventually grew to like Bartok's music. If you dislike Bartok (as my sister does), that's fine. Do try to listen to his piano repertoire, though; you might find it a bit more palatable.

(If you want to find a Bach equivalent of the video above, here's an example of a Bach fugue for solo violin:

I still find it amazing that Bach wrote a multi-voice fugue on an inherently monophonic instrument. That makes me wanna scream like a fangirl.

You didn't read that last sentence.)

And we have this guy:

Paul Hindemith

Yes, it's Gould again, this time playing Paul Hindemith, a German composer who followed Bach's contrapuntal footsteps. Hindemith was criticized by Nazi Germany for being an "atonal noisemaker", and you might be inclined to say the same. (Atonality is basically the lack of a musical key, which makes for very dissonant music.) His piano composition Ludus Tonalis was intended to be the Well-tempered Clavier of the 20th century. 
You might be scratching your head now and wondering where Bach's influence is. It's right there, but I can't pinpoint it, ignorant teenager that I am (never mind); I can pinpoint it now after listening to the video (I confess: I just picked out this video of Hindemith because Gould was playing). It has all the elements of a good Baroque fugue, sans the typical pre-20th century harmony.
This is as close to Bach as anybody in the 20th century can get while staying within the bounds of 20th century classical music.

These are just part of the torrent of musical ideas that was released because Johann Sebastian decided to write music. Bach certainly would never had anticipated the consequences of doing this. I'm sure he would be reluctant to receive all the praise directed at him. 
Nobody would dare say that the world would be better of without Bach or his influence, but some would say that the musical world might be better off without some things that were influenced by him. To some extent, I agree. Not everything written by composers, especially from the 20th century onward, were masterpieces or fit with Bach's final aim of music. (Not even everything that Bach wrote was -- dare-I-say-it? -- a masterpiece, but I agree with violinist Nigel Kennedy that he did not right one single inferior piece of music.) Not every interpretation of Bach's music is good -- the legendary and notorious Glenn Gould not exempted. Nonetheless, these composers and performers are out there, and-- believe it or not -- they  have one common denominator with Beethoven, Mendelssohn, and the more "orthodox" performers out there: the once-obscure composer-musician turned musical giant, J.S. Bach.