We all know that the complete truth in Bach’s music cannot be traced back to instrumentation, tunings or the instruments being used, that it transcends such tools, requiring communication with the soul of the listener. Yes, I am talking about the soul here, not a musicological subject, but nevertheless the motor that drives Bach’s compositions. The religious context constantly refers to the human soul, a soul that needs redemption from otherwise being lost and without guidance. For me this is always the starting point of any consideration of how to sing any Bach aria; I believe that a truly “authentic” interpretation must never ignore the reason why this music exists in the first place. Sometimes I am amazed how musicologists spend so much time researching and debating all the technical aspects of Bach’s music (temperament, instruments, instrumentation...), presenting the results of this research in the light of authenticity within a practical context (the selling of tickets, the concert hall, drinks in the intermission and so forth) that has very little to do with the truly authentic root of the music.
Text and Context or, Does it help a singer to be a religious person?
Do you need to be a religious person to sing Bach’s church music in a truly convincing manner? It is a question that frequently arises. Bach’s music is rooted in the idea of “Gotteslob”, praising God through music and educating the souls of the Christian community assembled in church. As a singer I need to be aware of the role I assume when singing any recitative or aria. The actual text, the message of a specific aria and its context must be the basis of any interpretation. Who am I when I sing this recitative or aria and to whom am I singing it? Knowledge of the religious background and belief can be as much help as it can be an obstacle. I heard a colleague who deeply moved the entire audience with his singing of an aria, being convinced that there was religious conviction in his singing. Asking him about it later, he told me that he was not a religious person, but accepts the truth of the music during the time in which he sings it. In another instance a singer known to be very religious had something like an epiphany on stage. It was witnessed by an audience that was more alienated than moved; they saw what was happening, but could not participate. To communicate successfully as a singer I constantly ask myself what is my function in singing this particular aria, what role must I fulfil? It’s an act of finding the right balance. The fact that I sing an aria in the Matthew Passion doesn’t mean that I composed it, and being aware of my role within the context of what is happening in a performance is essential. Like all musicians, I have to attempt to give of my best, to be well prepared, to rise to the challenge of the moment, feeling neither insignificant as a link in the chain of composition, ensemble, and performance, nor feeling and acting as if the entire performance rests on my shoulders.
Feeling the incredible power and conviction of Bach’s music, one could be tempted to feel unworthy of singing it. I had my share of problems with Herr Bach when I prepared the recording of the solo cantatas and recorded them; at one point I was almost in tears wanting to quit, thinking, “I am not good enough for this Bach.” Fortunately, Philipe Herreweghe and his wife, the cellist Ageet Zwijstra, sensed my troubles and helped me through this with their support and meaningful music making.
|
|
|
|