It’s been interesting to see how many performers are using these quarantine days to find solace in the music of Bach. There’s no surprise here, since the solo works of Bach are the perfect tonic for social isolation, a mask-free time for a deep dive into musical genius.

With all the Bach floating around, it reminded me of the wonderful scene in M*A*S*H when Hawkeye is counseling Radar on how to converse with an attractive classical music fan.

“Bach is easy. If she brings him up, you just smile and you say, ‘Ah… Bach.’ ”
“What do I do if she asks me what I like in music?”
“You just say, ‘Well, I’m partial to the fugue.’ ”
“Can I say that to a girl I hardly know?”

Part of my quarantine time has been spent trying to learn the D minor Partita, including the formidable Chaconne, the Mount Everest of solo Bach music. When I was in music school, I used to justify not learning it because I was too busy playing chamber music or taking on the thorniest rhythmic music available. In truth, I knew that I just plain sucked at playing Bach and was too insecure to confront the reality of it. After I brought the Gigue from the E Major Partita into a lesson, my teacher at the time told me that he wouldn’t want people to know he was my teacher! Yes, probably over the line and not a productive pedological tactic, but I can’t deny his point that it was pretty bad.

So why now, as I approach my 55th birthday, am I eager to take on this challenge? “Penance” is defined as “…voluntary self-punishment inflicted as an outward expression of repentance for having done wrong.” I can go along with that, since playing the Chaconne is punishing in its technical demands, and repentance is required for having claimed to be a violinist all these years without having played the frigging piece.

A month into this, it’s been wonderful to reconnect with the feeling of practicing something because you want to, not because you have to. Call it this professional musician’s version of psychological housecleaning, a beautiful opportunity to get back in touch with why I love music in the first place. And quarantine-ing is proving to be quite effective as an excuse eliminator. I have the time to do this properly, and I have nothing and no one to blame if I fall short.

I’ve been doing a lot of walking lately in my neighborhood, listening to recordings of solo Bach by great artists like Henryk Szeryng and Thomas Zehetmair, as well as Portland’s own Tomas Cotik (well done, my friend!). Bach is a great soundtrack for strolling, even though it is a bit freaky to realize that though the streets may be empty, there are a lot of people behind those doors. We haven’t evacuated; we’re hostages. It’s at those moments when the spirituality of Bach’s music just absolutely stuns me, a moment of grace in the midst of fear. This is what Bach meant when he said, “God’s gift to his sorrowing creatures is a joy worthy of their destiny.”

Many have written lately about the opportunities this surreal moment has presented, none so more eloquently than the wonderful writer Pico Iyer, from his recent NPR broadcast, Postcards from the Pandemic:

“This moment dramatizes what’s always the case. I can never tell you what’s going to happen tomorrow, or even tonight. Death could be at the door right now, and that’s exactly the reason why I try really hard to cherish the beauty of this radiant spring day, and not take anything for granted. I’ve always felt that what happens to us is much less important than what we make of what happens to us.”

Please check out the entire postcard here on NPR. You’ll be glad you did.

So, back to work. Bach beckons. The penance continues, though with a grateful heart for the opportunity this moment presents to follow Mr. Iyer’s lovely example.

Stay safe, everyone.

Ron Blessinger
Executive Director, 45^th Parallel Universe