Tower and Town, March 2021 (view the full edition)An Encounter With JS BachI was brought up in the tradition of English cathedral music, both ancient and modern, and I sang both Bach's Magnificat and Saint John Passion. At school we had an ambitious and innovative music department with performances of Britten's Saint Nicholas and Noye's Fludde, as well as largely neglected oratorios of Handel, both Solomon and Saul, but no Bach. It was not until I was teaching in Birmingham that I joined the Birmingham Bach Society and was introduced to the B Minor Mass. To singers like me this monumental work sits on the skyline like an awesome mountain, to be approached with respect and scaled with great care. We were to perform the work in the classical splendour of Saint Philip's Cathedral. Our president, Peter Pears, was among the distinguished soloists, and Philip Ledger, organist at King's College Cambridge, was the guest harpsichord accompanist. The afternoon rehearsal had passed without incident and it was only when we arrived for the performance did we learn that the orchestra was on strike and would not be playing. The building was crammed with an expectant audience who were greeted by the choir's chairman, who explained that the strike had occurred because of a demarcation dispute. Was the harpsichord a solo or an orchestral instrument? If the latter, then Ledger should have been a member of the Musicians Union. The union convenor, a militant member of the orchestra, was then invited to put his case to an increasingly hostile and vocal audience. In an enormous leap of faith, our conductor, Richard Butt, then announced that we would perform the work with Roy Massey, the Cathedral organist, accompanying the whole work on the organ. With increasing confidence, we began the Kyrie, with its enormous fugue, at the end of which the audience stood up and applauded. We never looked back and gave a truly memorable performance. I sang the work again with the Bach Society choir, this time without incident. It was summer and as we launched into the Sanctus with its rising triplets and massive octave leaps in the bass part, the setting sun lit up the great Last Judgement window by Burne-Jones in the baptistry. Flooded with dramatic red, flights of hovering angels, one blowing an enormous trumpet, arouse a startled crowd of people. At the top of the window a white draped figure of Christ sits on a throne, his right hand raised in blessing and assurance. With the swirling sound of the Sanctus filling the building with joy and expectation, no image could have been more spiritually appropriate. Both men had created these masterpieces within a year of their death. Only men of deep and unchallenging faith, as were JS Bach and Burne-Jones, could have created such valedictory statements, merged here in Saint Philip's into one awesome experience. I have never sung the work since, and I do not expect to do so. That I have sung it and remember the musical and spiritual impact of these two performances is enough for me. Christopher Rogers |