Day Four
Morning arrived all too quickly--cloudy and chilly--but by
now we were getting used to that. We were to spend the entire day in
Leipzig--no packing, no luggage to wrestle--and we would sleep in our same beds
again tonight. I was more than ready for a relatively "low-key" day
and looking forward to it. What I would soon learn is that there is absolutely
nothing "low-key" about the city of Leipzig!
Early in the Middle Ages, before the end of the ninth
century, Leipzig was settled by Slavs, who named it Lipsk (City of Limes).
Located at the crossroads of ancient trade routes and at the confluence of
three important rivers--Pleisse, White Elster and Parthe--Leipzig has been,
from the very beginning, an important center for commerce, publishing,
learning, technology and the arts. It has survived the devastation of many wars
and hostile occupations. Over the centuries, it has continued to preserve,
restore, and reconstruct, never losing sight of its identity. Today, the city
exudes an atmosphere of energy and vitality as it forges ahead on the cutting
edge of the future. From the very beginning, it has prospered and--rather like
the Energizer bunny--it just keeps going, and going, and going! And so it came
as no surprise to learn that Leipzig's motto is "Leipzig kommt!"
Leipzig Gewandhaus
There is so much here to see and to explore that one could
spend weeks and barely scratch the surface. The possibilities are dizzying. But
our time was short, and we were here to pay homage to J. S. Bach and some of
the other great musicians associated with Leipzig. What better place to start
our tour than at the famous Gewandhaus?! Located on the south side of the
Augustusplatz and opposite the Leipzig Opera House, which can be seen reflected
in its large glass windows, this is the third home of the Gewandhaus Orchestra,
the oldest civic orchestra in Germany, founded in 1743. The new building, built
in close cooperation with conductor Kurt Masur, was dedicated in 1981. It is
well worth the visit even if one never ventures beyond the breathtaking,
spacious lobby whose open tiers and stairways are dominated by a large and
dramatically colorful ceiling mural, said by some to be the largest in all of
Europe.
We were headed for the Great Hall and a demonstration of its
four-manual, 92-rank Schuke organ. The hall itself is a large, multi-sided
amphitheater seating 1900 people. The organ is visually stunning, mounted high
on the wall above and behind the gallery seating area, which faces the rear of
the stage. The action is mechanical, and--just as we saw at the Berlin
Konzerthaus--there is a second, electric-action console for onstage use. We were
greeted by the Gewandhaus organist, who turned out to be none other than
Michael Schönheit, who had so graciously demonstrated the little Ladegast
in Merseburg Cathedral only the day before. On this occasion we were treated to
the entire Widor Fifth Symphony--a good choice to put the organ through its
paces and an opportunity, for those who wished, to move around and hear the
instrument from every possible vantage point.
St. Nicholas Church
From there we made our way to the church of St. Nicholas,
easily identified by its triple towers. Nikolai Church is the city's oldest
church, dating from c.1165 when it sat at the crossroads of two important trade
routes. St. Nicholas is the medieval patron saint of merchants and travelers,
and even today the church sits at the center of the city among banks and office
buildings, open to visitors from all over the world. Both exterior and interior
have been altered over the years, reflecting the trends and tastes of the
times. At present, both church and organ are undergoing restoration, so an
organ demonstration was not possible. The lavishly decorated interior is indeed
splendid and more than one could possibly assimilate in one brief visit. For
me, the enormous galleries on three sides of the nave seemed to invoke those masterpieces
of Bach, the music of which had once filled this very space.
The organ started out as a large, four-manual Ladegast of
eighty-four stops with an open 32' in the case. Built between 1858 and 1862, it
was rebuilt by Sauer in 1902/03. Now, one hundred years later, it is being
restored as closely as possible to its original state by the Eule firm.
We cannot leave this sacred spot without taking a moment to
remember the events of October 9, 1989--events which forever altered the course
of history. It was here, on this very spot, led by Kurt Masur, among others,
that the more than 2000 people who had filled St. Nicholas for the Peace Prayer
Service were joined in the streets outside by more than ten thousand
demonstrators, all holding lighted candles. After forty years of oppression
under the GDR, this non-violent, bloodless revolution turned the tide and paved
the way for the reunification of Germany. I treasure the memory of the brief
time I was able to spend in the Church of St. Nicholas, and I find hope and
comfort in the knowledge that the prayers for peace continue in this very
special place.
Out on the sidewalk again and back to the present, we had
the luxury of some time on our own. We had been offered a guided tour of the
University of Leipzig's Musical Instrument Museum, which we had the option of
taking either before or after lunch. This important collection features 5000
exhibits spanning five centuries. For some of us it felt good to stretch our
legs and shed our tourist guises. After an alfresco coffee break and a little
more walking around, we encountered others from our group on their way to
lunch. We decided to join them, and that is why I cannot tell you about the
Musical Instrument Museum, because I never got there.
Just in front of The Old Stock Exchange is the famous statue
of Goethe, whose gaze is eternally fixed on the entrance to the Mädler
Passage, Leipzig's most magnificent arcade and the only one to have survived
the centuries intact. Just inside the entrance, marked by two unusual
sculptures, is the ancient stairway leading down to one of Leipzig's most
famous and historic restaurants--Auerbach's Keller, the barrel cellar
immortalized by Goethe in a famous scene from Faust. We were seated in a rear
corner at a table in front of a long banquette. Surrounded as we were by dark
wood paneling and soft lighting, the ambiance was deliciously warm. The large
room seemed to be filled nearly to capacity, and our table kept expanding as
others from our group joined us. My recollection of the meal is hazy, but I do
recall a delicious stein of beer and a hearty, hot soup. There may have been a
dozen of us at the table. It was a wonderful opportunity to get better
acquainted with some of our fellow travelers and to simply relax and soak up the
atmosphere of this timeless place. I remember thinking to myself: so this is
Gemütlichkeit! Service was slow and somewhat hampered by the size of our
group and our marginal--to say the least--German. By the time we had settled
our checks and were once more out on the street again, it was too late to join
the museum tour. Nourished and refreshed, we went our separate ways. We would
gather later on at the Thomaskirche for a demonstration of the organs by Ulrich
Böhme.
Thomaskirche
St. Thomaskirche is easily identified by its extremely
steep-pitched tower and the much-photographed statue of Bach in the small
square just to the south. The church occupies the site of an earlier church for
the Augustinian Monastery founded in 1212 by Margrave Dietrich with--as legend
would have it--a choir of twelve boys. At the time of Bach's 27-year tenure
(1723-1750), there were fifty-four boys, and today the choir consists of one
hundred boys and young men who give weekly performances of the cantatas, motets
and oratorios of Bach. Originally buried at St. John's Church, which was
destroyed in World War II, Bach's remains have since been removed and were
reburied here in 1950. His final resting place is in the choir room directly
under the chancel. Needless to say, the church has become a very popular
tourist attraction, generating an atmosphere more akin to a museum than to a
house of worship.
Although the basic architecture of the church has remained
unchanged since the end of the fifteenth century, many alterations and additions
have occurred over the years, reflecting current styles and tastes. After the
reunification of Germany in 1990, and after nearly one hundred years of
neglect, a total restoration of the church was undertaken and completed just in
time for the Bach anniversary in July of 2000. Included in the project was the
installation of a brand-new "Bach" organ built by Gerald Woehl.
Public funding for this 5.5 million dollar undertaking was provided by the
European Union, the German Federal Government, the State of Saxony and the City
of Leipzig. There were private donations as well. A four-manual instrument of
61 stops, the organ was designed in accordance with the principles of
eighteenth-century, middle-German organ building. The casework was inspired by
that of the Scheibe organ in the Pauliner (University) Church in Leipzig, which
Bach had examined in 1717. The specification is based on that of the
Georgenkirche in Eisenach (Bach's hometown), an instrument that the young Bach
would have known well, as it was designed by his uncle, Johann Christoph Bach.
The new Woehl organ sits in the center of the north balcony across from the
Bach window.
In addition to the new instrument, St. Thomaskirche has a
second, older, three-manual organ of 88 stops built by Sauer in 1889 (considerably
enlarged in 1908). Midway through the twentieth century it succumbed to the
"Baroque" craze, but in 1988 it was returned to its original state.
It sits in the rear (west) gallery. It has a rich, warm, romantic sound, and it
is this instrument that would have been played by Straube and Ramin, among
others. Ulrich Böhme, who demonstrated the organs for us, has been the
organist of St. Thomaskirche since 1985. He played the Bach Pièce
d'Orgue on the Woehl, and on the Sauer,
some Mendelssohn.
There was a little more free time at our disposal before we
gathered for an early dinner. Our day in Leipzig ended as it had begun--at the
Gewandhaus where we heard the famous orchestra, under the direction of Roger
Norrington, perform Ralph Vaughan Williams' Fifth Symphony
style='font-style:normal'> and Brahms' First. Filled with people, the huge
amphitheater bore little resemblance to the nearly empty space we had occupied
only a few hours before. The atmosphere was one of eager expectancy. Our group
was dispersed to various locations throughout the Great Hall so that it was
easy to imagine that we were simply Leipzigers out for an evening of fine
music. Often, in my lectures, I have spoken of the synergistic triumvirate of
composer, performer and listener. But never have I experienced it as I did on
this particular occasion. The audience seemed to be every bit as focused on the
music as were the musicians themselves. Listening in the Great Hall of the
Gewandhaus is clearly not a passive activity. Our collective ears were on the
edges of our seats. Music was happening here, and all of us were involved in
the process. It was an evening to remember. And then it was back to our hotel
to pack, to sleep and to prepare for an early departure the next morning.
Day Five
It was hard to leave Leipzig behind knowing how many of its
treasures--landmarks, architecture, monuments, museums and libraries--still
remained to be explored. Back on the bus once more, we headed out of the city
and toward the open countryside. Our final destination on this Friday would be
Eisenach, Bach's birthplace. But first we had some very interesting stops to
make along the way.
Rötha
First stop on our agenda was Rötha, a picturesque small
town of very narrow streets. It offered a pleasant contrast after the lively
hustle and bustle of Leipzig. We were about to see and hear our first
Silbermann organ. Photographs and recordings--wonderful as they are--cannot
begin to capture the actual visual and aural experience. St. Georgenkirche
dates back to the twelfth century. The architecture is eclectic, and it has
been rebuilt many times. The twin-towered edifice dominates the surrounding
landscape and is at once sturdy and elegant. When I stepped inside the church,
I felt as though I had entered another dimension. Although it was another dark
and gloomy day, the interior was bright, filled with a diffusion of soft,
golden light and a subtle, not unpleasant smell that seemed to invoke things
ancient and holy. One tended to speak in hushed tones. The space is not vast by
any means. The gothic-style windows are tall and narrow and of plain glass. The
impression is of elegance and simplicity with lots of dark wood and white
plaster. The nave opens into a rather spacious choir, and the eye is
compellingly drawn to a sumptuous altarpiece with frescos of the Crucifixion
and the Last Supper.
The organ, of two manuals and 23 stops, was built between
1718 and 1721 by Gottfried Silbermann. Dedicated in 1721 by Kuhnau, Bach's
predecessor at St. Thomaskirche, it is in meantone tuning and has reeds only in
the pedal. Although I would not have described the sound as
"silvery," it was indeed bright and, at the same time, very rich.
These small instruments are noteworthy for their economy and yet amazing
variety of sounds. A former cantor, Mrs. Schoedel, played the Bach A Major for
us, and then we were on our own. Those who wished to play needed no urging and
started queuing up immediately. It is perhaps interesting to note that this
particular instrument served as the model for the Marilyn Mason Organ at the
University of Michigan built by Fisk. Yet another Silbermann can be found in
Rötha at the Marienkirche--a one-manual instrument of eleven stops.
St. Wenzelskirche, Naumburg
Back on our bus once more, we headed for St. Wenzelskirche
in Naumburg. It was pleasant to ride through the peaceful, rural landscape. The
country here is quite flat, and we passed small farms, grazing cattle,
carefully tended gardens and fields of winter wheat, occasionally punctuated by
large automotive centers off in the distance.
Naumburg was founded in 1028. The medieval gates and
fortification walls still stand around the old city with its narrow, cobbled
streets. The City Church of St. Wenzel has been in existence since 1426. The
organ we have come to see and hear is a 1746 Hildebrandt of three manuals and
fifty-three stops. The instrument was drastically altered during the nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries. Miraculously spared in the WW II Allied bombing
of Naumburg, it suffered from years of neglect during the subsequent Communist
regime. By the time of the Reunification in 1990, the organ had deteriorated so
badly that it was barely playable. In 1992 the City of Naumburg and the Friends
of the Hildebrandt Organ convened an international symposium which recommended
the restoration of the organ to its 1746 condition. The cost of the project,
which was entrusted to the Eule firm, was estimated at 2.5 million dollars. The
Rückpositiv was tackled first and completed in 1996 in time for the 250th
anniversary of the organ, and the entire restoration was completed in the year
2000. It was re-dedicated on the first Sunday in Advent with a solemn worship
service and a dedicatory recital played by Ulrich Böhme, organist of St.
Thomaskirche.
What is it about this historic instrument that has generated
so much international excitement and attention? And why has this particular
instrument come to be regarded by many as the ideal "Bach" organ?
In 1723, shortly after coming to St. Thomas, Bach took his
choir to the nearby village of Störmtal to perform a cantata he had
written for the dedication of a new organ in the village church. It was on this
occasion that Bach first met the builder, Zacharias Hildebrandt, who had apprenticed
for five years under Gottfried Silbermann. The Störmtal organ, still
extant today, was examined by Bach and pronounced to be "an excellent and
durable instrument, very worthy of praise." The two men soon became
lifelong friends, and in 1735, Hildebrandt moved his workshop to Leipzig.
In 1743, Bach's advice, among others, was sought by the city
council of Naumburg in regard to the Wenzelskirche organ--a Thayssner
instrument built in 1700. Although two other builders had been consulted, the
contract for a new instrument went to Hildebrandt. When the organ was completed
in 1746, Bach played it, examined it, and wrote glowingly about it. Moreover,
there is good reason to believe that Bach himself collaborated with Hildebrandt
on the design of the instrument.
What are some of the characteristics that set this
instrument apart from other more typical middle-German instruments of the first
half of the eighteenth century? Consider the following: multiple color stops at
low pitches and a steady, copious wind supply; a spacious chest layout
affording easy and convenient access to all of the pipes; a complete and
well-developed pedal division; 16' stops in the manual divisions and two 32's
in the pedal; well-tempered tuning; a large and complete Rückpositiv; divisions
that achieve their distinction not by placement or Werkprinzip, but by the
individual scaling of each of the principal choruses--all of this espoused by
Bach and well documented.
As we gathered expectantly at the entrance to the church,
Michael said: "Take several deep breaths, because when you go into the
church, your breath will be taken away." He was right. Nothing could have
prepared us for the sight of the interior of this splendid gothic building with
its lavish baroque decoration, and then to let our eyes travel upward past the
first two galleries and then to the uppermost gallery and that sumptuous organ
case. The organ case, with its gorgeous decorations by the woodcarver Johann
Goericke, has been retained from the Thayssner. The keyboards and stops are
also original. Inside the white cabinet doors, the "interior" of the
console is painted a rich "bluer-than-blue" color.
The organist, Irene Greulich, played for us--Bach, of
course--and the sound was magnificent. The plenum was rich and brilliant with
plenty of that gravitas of which Bach was so fond.
This instrument stands, among many other things, as a model
of historically informed restoration. Archival documents and photographs
provided much important information. The preservation and restoration of this
very special instrument is surely no small miracle. To stand in this place
which has stood for more than half a millennium, to see, hear, touch, and
actually play this historic instrument is a spiritual experience to be
treasured and long remembered.
Our time at St. Wenzelskirche passed quickly, and all too
soon it was time to come back down to earth again. It was already early
afternoon, and after a quick lunch, we were back on the bus headed for
Eisenach, the birthplace of Bach. But first, our itinerary called for a visit
to Buchenwald.
Buchenwald
Buchenwald Concentration Camp is located just north of the
city of Weimar atop Ettersberg Hill. Buchenwald means beech tree wood, and at
one time this must have been a lovely spot. Legend has it that Goethe spent
many pleasant contemplative hours here beneath his favorite tree. Today, only
the stump remains of "Goethe's Oak," which was damaged by bombs in
1944 and later cut down. Buchenwald was not originally planned as a place of
genocide. Nevertheless, more than 250,000 people were held captive here, of
whom more than 50,000 died. Near the end, as many as 1500 prisoners a day were
sent to the crematorium. At the time of the liberation and the arrival of the
US Army on April 11, 1945, around 21,000 prisoners including 900 children and
young people remained in the camp.
Our tour, with Sonja as our guide, began at the top of the
hill at the entrance to the gate building, which is flanked on either side by
the arrest houses. Two of the twenty-two watchtowers remain, and the
crematorium is near by. Many artifacts remain in the buildings and about the
grounds, offering mute testimony to the atrocities committed here. The more
than fifty camp barracks that lined the hillside below in neat rows are no
longer standing, but the location of each is marked by a stone which displays
the block number, and the outlines of each building are shown by layers of
broken stone. As I stood at the top of the hill, taking in the stark scene
spread out below me, I was reminded that only four days ago I had stood in a
place of similar topography--Sansoucci Palace. Sansoucci had been all warmth
and color and light. Here at Buchenwald, all was cold and gray and dark. I'm
sure that on occasion the sun does indeed shine on Buchenwald. But at that
moment it seemed to me that sunshine--in this awful place of despair and
death--might easily be regarded as profane. Our usually lively and congenial
group was subdued and silent as we made the long descent to the Storehouse at
the bottom of the hill where the prisoners had been relieved of their clothing
and all personal effects. Today it is a museum with a permanent exhibition of
documents and relics depicting the grim history of Buchenwald and commemorating
the lives of the thousands who perished here. Our tour lasted nearly two hours.
There was much to see and to try to understand. How does one comprehend the
incomprehensible? The atmosphere of such a place is indescribable. As we left
the museum, a cold, steady, drenching rain had begun to fall. Finally, it was
time to make the long ascent back to the top of Ettersberg Hill, where warmth
and transportation and normalcy awaited us.
Bach House
And so we continued on to Eisenach, a bit weary and
bedraggled. After settling into our hotel where we were given dinner, we ended
our day with an evening arranged just for us at the Bach House. The house in
which Bach was actually born no longer exists, but today this house is
officially recognized as the Bach family home. There is much of interest to see
here, and the house is furnished as authentically as possible, and many
instruments of the period are on display. Having explored the museum a bit, we
were invited to make ourselves comfortable. Our amiable hosts, dressed in
authentic attire, treated us to a private concert using several of the period
instruments in the collection. It was an informal and relaxed occasion, and the
music was lovely. One could easily imagine that we had been transported back in
time to a musical evening at the Bach's. It was an extraordinary end to an
extraordinary day.
Day Six
Saturday morning came all too quickly, but what a delight to
wake up in the city of Bach's birth. Here we were in the heart of Bach country
with four organs and a castle awaiting our pleasure. By the time we had climbed
aboard our bus, we were primed and ready for our next adventure.
Wartburg Castle
Destination: Wartburg Castle. Dating back to 1067, this
medieval castle sits high atop a 1230 foot cliff overlooking the city of
Eisenach below. Complete with drawbridge, half-timbered ramparts, and dungeons
in the southern tower, Wartburg is one of the best preserved castles in
Germany. Although largely Romanesque and Gothic, some original sections from
the feudal period still remain. Legend has it that the Great Hall, which dates
back to 1160, provided the setting for the famous minstrels' competition
immortalized by Wagner in Tannhäuser. It has also been suggested that
perhaps Martin Luther had this magnificent structure in mind when he wrote
"A Mighty Fortress."
It was here, in 1521, that Martin Luther, excommunicated and
condemned as a heretic, took refuge for three hundred days under the protection
of William the Wise. Transformed from a pious monk to a bearded "Knight
George," Luther wore cloak and dagger and hunted the woods. It was during
these solitary days of voluntary captivity that he translated the New Testament
from Greek to German. Up until that time there had been no uniform written
language, and it was Luther's synthesis of the many dialects with which he was
familiar that came to define the German language as it is known today. The
rooms, in which Martin Luther lived and worked, have been preserved. For more
than four hundred years, they have been the object of countless pilgrimages,
and the names of many pilgrims--dating back to the 1600s--have been carved into
the walls.
Also inside the castle are many authentically restored and
furnished rooms filled with the art and artifacts of another age--frescos,
paintings, mosaics, tapestries, pottery, stone carvings and medieval clothing.
The whole experience was very much like entering a magical time machine, and we
were reluctant to leave.
Arnstadt
But we could not afford to linger. And so it was back to the
bus and on to the town of Arnstadt with its charming market square and uneven
cobblestone streets. It was here, in 1703, that Bach took on his first regular
employment as organist of the New Church.
Arnstadt was the hometown of Bach's grandfather, and many
Bachs were born, christened and buried here. Founded in 704 and granted a city
charter in 1266, Arnstadt is the oldest town in Thuringia. Located on the edge
of the Thuringian Forest, it was, in Bach's time, a thriving trade center of
3800 inhabitants. The New Church--one of three--was built between 1676 and 1683
on the site of the ruin of St. Boniface's, a medieval edifice, which had been
destroyed by fire in 1581. It took sixteen years to raise enough money for the
organ, and the contract went to the renowned organ builder, Johann Friedrich
Wender of Mühlhausen. A modest instrument of two manuals and 21 stops, the
organ was completed in 1703. The young Bach, only eighteen years old, recently
graduated from St. Michael's in Lüneburg, and now in the employ of Duke
Johann Ernst of Weimar, was invited to Arnstadt to conduct the official organ
examination. He was also invited to perform the inaugural recital, which
perhaps served as an informal audition for the organist position, which he
would assume in August of that same year. What a feather in young Sebastian's
cap, and what a testimony to his knowledge of organbuilding and his
considerable keyboard skills. Christoph Wolff, in his biography of Bach, Johann
Sebastian Bach: The Learned Musician, writes: "For the first time in his
life, he [Bach] had free reign over a fine instrument with no technical
defects, a luxury most organists of the time could only dream of." Bach
remained in Arnstadt for three years--years which were extremely important to
his development as an organ virtuoso and composer. It is not without
significance that the new instrument was tuned in the "new"
well-tempered tuning system developed by Werckmeister. Bach's duties were
minimal and he had lots of time to practice on a fine new instrument and to
study all of the organ repertoire he could get his hands on. It was here that
he confused the congregation with his wild hymn improvisations, clashed with
the town authorities over his job description, and overstayed his leave when he
made his famous pilgrimage to Buxtehude in Lübeck.
Unfortunately, the organ has been the victim of many
modifications over the years, and aside from the case, very little of the
original instrument remains. However, in the year 2000, it was reconstructed by
Otto Hoffmann and returned to something close to the original design in time
for the Bach sesquicentennial. Today the church is known as the Bachkirche, and
it was indeed a thrill to stand in the nave of this historic place. The wooden
building is plain, but elegant, with double galleries on three sides. The organ
sits high in the third (west) gallery under the barrel-vaulted ceiling, with
small galleries on either side of the choir loft for instrumentalists. Since
there is no Rückpositiv, the organist at the console sits in plain view.
On a typical Sunday, Bach might have had a congregation of as many as 1500
worshipers. After the demonstration by organist Gottfried Preller, those who
wished were free to try the instrument for themselves. However, we had a
schedule to keep and could not tarry long.
Waltershausen
Back on the bus once more with our "Bach's"
lunches, our next stop was the Parish Church of Waltershausen. The church tower
dates back to the fifteenth century and has been rebuilt many times over the
centuries. Today only part of the original tower still remains. The foundation
stone for the church was laid by Frederich II in 1719, and the church was
dedicated in 1723.
Nothing about the exterior prepares the visitor for the
amazing sights and sounds which lie in store. To step inside the church is to travel
back in time and enter another dimension. I was struck, as I had been earlier
at the St. Georgenkirche in Rötha, by the otherworldly quality of the
light in the vastness of this splendid interior. I found it mesmerizing. One's
eyes are drawn upward past the eight vertical pillars to the remarkable fresco
on the ceiling, which gives the distinct impression of a rounded ceiling vault,
when indeed the ceiling is quite flat. There are double galleries like those we
had seen at Arnstadt, except that the Bachkirche has a relatively long and
narrow nave, whereas the nave here is much wider. The three boxes in the first
gallery at the rear were reserved for the duke, the judges and the residents of
Tenneberg Castle. I had the feeling that they might walk in and take their
seats at any moment. Beautiful artwork adorns the walls, and one could spend
hours taking it all in.
But we were here to see, hear and play the organ of three
manuals and 47 stops built by Heinrich Gottfried Trost between 1724 and 1730.
It was at that time that Trost left the project even though the organ remained
unfinished. It was not finally completed until 1753. By now it came as no
surprise to learn that the instrument had undergone considerable alteration and
modification during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The original
organ, as well as the church, has recently been restored. The organ sits high
above the altar and the pulpit in its elaborately carved case. Organist
Theophil Heinke demonstrated for us. Visually magnificent as the instrument is,
nothing had prepared us for the remarkable sound, which was quite unlike
anything I had ever heard. Colorful, bold and bright, the sound is never harsh
or shrill. The plenum is gutsy, with gravitas, but never overwhelming. The music
seemed to surround us with a clarity and presence ideal for the polyphony of
Bach. There is a preponderance of colorful 8' stops--wide flutes and narrow
strings--including an especially luscious doppel flute. On the other hand,
there are only two mixtures and relatively few and mild reeds. It is an
instrument far removed from the Werkprinzip and the ideals espoused by the
organ reform movement. Harald Vogel, in an article for the Westfield Center
Newsletter, has praised this very successful restoration for bringing us ever
closer in our ongoing search for the ideal Bach organ. In any case, it is
understandably the pride and joy of the people of Waltershausen. It was for me
perhaps the highpoint of the tour. It was hard to take our leave.
Erfurt
And then it was back on the bus and on to Erfurt Cathedral.
Erfurt is the largest city in Thuringia with a population today of 200,000. One
of the oldest cities in Germany, it was first mentioned by St. Boniface in the
eighth century. It was here, in the year 1501, that Martin Luther came to study
at the university and later took his monastic vows at the Augustinian
monastery. It was also here that Bach's father and mother were born. In fact,
during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, a whole dynasty of Bach musicians
flourished in and around the city of Erfurt.
Although archaeological evidence has been found of a
ninth-century church, construction
on the Cathedral that stands today was not begun until the year 1153.
Over the centuries, many alterations and additions have been made, combining
both Romanesque and Gothic elements. Today the Cathedral is a treasure house of
religious art from the medieval, Romanesque and Renaissance periods. It is
arguably one of the most beautiful churches in all of Germany.
On this particular day, Saturday, April 26, we were not
certain exactly what to expect since only the day before, at the Gutenberg High
School, an expelled student had opened fire, killing eighteen people including
himself. What we found was a city in crisis--overwhelmed by shock and grief.
People had flocked to the cathedral in huge numbers, and crowds of people were
thronging the streets and the square. The entrance to the cathedral is high
atop a hill, approached by a huge, terraced flight of steps. The steps were
deeply flanked on either side by candles, flowers, messages and other mementos.
The cathedral was filled with mourners. Apparently a special mass had taken
place earlier. We were unable to climb up to the organ loft, and the organist,
Silvius von Kessel, was unable to play for us the organ demonstration he had
planned. There are two organs in the cathedral--a 1963 Schuke II/29, and a 1992
Schuke, III/63. Herr Kessel improvised for us on the larger, newer of the two
instruments, concluding with a very moving performance of the Bach O Mensch,
bewein. The improvisation was quite lovely and, by necessity, rather subdued. I
found myself pleasantly surprised by the rich principal sound and the warmth of
this modern instrument. I was seated near one of the side aisles, and the sight
of the grief-stricken, tear-stained faces of those young boys and girls as they
filed out of the church is a sight I will long remember.
By now our group was visibly drooping. It had been a very
long and full day, and our brief sojourn in the Cathedral had been emotionally
draining. But we had one more stop to make before our departure from Erfurt. A
cold and rainy walk through the congested streets brought us to the
Predigerkirche where we were to hear yet another Schuke (1978) instrument--a
rebuild of an 1899 instrument of 56 stops. The organ was demonstrated for us by
organist Matthias Dreissig. Johann Pachelbel had been organist here from
1678-90, and we were treated, among other things, to a lovely Pachelbel chorale
prelude on Vater Unser.
Back aboard our bus once more, we settled down for the drive
back to Eisenach, most of us more than ready for a quiet dinner and early bed.
Day Seven
We awakened to the pleasant prospect of a leisurely Sunday
morning. Our departure was not scheduled until late morning, and there was time
for a leisurely breakfast and a stroll around the Market Square with its
historic landmarks and picturesque half-timbered houses. Those who wished had
the option of attending the early service at the Georgenkirche where Bach was
baptized in 1685. The organ there today is a modern 1982 Schuke, III/60.
St. George Church
The parish church of St. George is an ancient structure
dating back to 1162 and rebuilt many times since. It has witnessed a lot of
history. It was here, in 1221, that Count Ludwig IV of Wartburg Castle was wed
to Elizabeth, daughter of Hungarian King Augustus II. When Count Ludwig died
six years later on his way to a crusade, the countess left the castle to
embrace a life of poverty and charity for which she was later canonized as St.
Elizabeth. As a boy, Martin Luther sang in the choir at St. George's and
studied in the Latin School, as did J. S. Bach nearly two hundred years later.
In 1521, Luther preached here twice on his way to and from the Diet of Worms.
Beginning with Johann Christoph Bach in 1665, all of the organists of St.
George's would be Bachs for the next 132 years!
Most of us know Eisenach as Bach's birthplace and St.
George's as the place he was baptized. But that was only the beginning. It was
here that the young Bach learned his trade, and learned it well from the ground
up. In 1671, Bach's father, Ambrosius, moved from Erfurt to Eisenach in order
to become the director of town music. What must it have been like for the young
Sebastian growing up in a large household surrounded by professional
musicians--family, assistants, and apprentices. The market square was the
center of all of this musical activity with regular and frequent performances
at the town hall, at the ducal court, and at the church. One can imagine the
young boy transporting, maintaining and repairing all manner of musical
instruments as he learned to perform on them as well. Collecting music and
copying scores and parts must also have been part of his duties. Bach's cousin,
Johann Christoph, organist of St. George's, was probably the most famous
musical Bach in Thuringia at that time. Renowned for his virtuosity and his
improvisational skills, he almost certainly must have given Bach his first
organ lessons. And what a role model to his young cousin Johann Christoph must
have been. The old organ had seen better days, and the young Bach must have
spent many hours inside the old organ helping with tuning and repairs as plans
for the new instrument, to be built by the local builder Stertzing, began to
take shape. By the time the actual construction of the organ was under way,
Bach was no longer living at home. But the influence of this firsthand
experience on Bach's knowledge of organbuilding and his ideas about organ
design can hardly be overestimated.
Mühlhausen
Much remained in Eisenach to explore and to reflect upon,
but we had promises to keep, and it was time to be on our way. Our first stop
would be at the Divi Blasii Church in Mühlhausen, the post for which Bach
left Arnstadt in 1707, remaining only one year before going on to Weimar. The
winding road from Eisenach to Mühlhausen took us through the lovely,
forested hills of the Thuringian countryside. We passed through small villages
nestled in green valleys with freshly tilled soil and flowering trees. The
ubiquitous half-timbered houses with their red-tiled roofs were becoming a
familiar sight. One descends down into Mühlhausen, population, 44,000--a
lively, commercial city that managed to survive WW II unscathed.
Mühlhausen was a free, imperial city, independent of
princely rule since the thirteenth century. Second only to Erfurt in size, it
too is a city of churches with at least thirteen spires gracing the skyline.
Some of the original fortifications and gates from the twelfth century still
remain and mark the boundaries of the original town. St. Blasius, with its twin
towers, is a compact, but elegant Gothic cathedral dating from the thirteenth
century. At the time of Bach's arrival it already had a distinguished tradition
of church music as well as an important music library, which must have been an
added incentive to the young Bach. It was a step up for him professionally in
every way, offering more income, more responsibility, and greater opportunities
than he had had at Arnstadt. The organ, built by Jost Pape of Göttingen,
dated from the mid-sixteenth century and had been extensively rebuilt and
enlarged (1687-1691) by Bach's old friend Friederich Wender, builder of the new
organ at Arnstadt. It was a fairly large two-manual instrument of 30 stops with
a Rückpositiv. Though it served Bach well, there were some defects--not so
surprising considering the fact that major parts of the instrument were almost
150 years old. Bach, accordingly, began to make imaginative plans for major
improvements and renovations. Bach submitted the plans for this ambitious
project when he was only six months into the job. That they were almost
immediately approved by the powers that be is a testimonial to how proud and
pleased the city and church officials were with their new organist. Bach, of
course, did not remain in Mühlhausen for the completion of the rebuilding
project, but the fact that his plans have survived has been an invaluable
source to scholars. It was a busy and successful year in every way for the
twenty-two-year-old Bach. Inspired by his visit to Buxtehude in Lübeck,
Bach took advantage of the new opportunities for vocal composition and enhanced
his rapidly growing reputation with some spectacular performances of large-scale
cantatas, at least one of which found its way into print. He and his new bride,
Maria Barbara, left Mühlhausen in 1708 very much appreciated and having
made many new friends.
The organ today is a modern instrument by Schuke of three
manuals and 40 stops built according to the original specification, which Bach
drew up for the church council back in 1708. Herr Sterchbarth was on hand to
demonstrate the instrument for us. Those who wished tried it for themselves,
and then it was back to the bus and our "Bach's" lunch, and on to our
next stop, the "Bach"
organ in the Stadtkirche St. Marien in Bad Berka.
Bach Organ
In 1743, Heinrich Nicolaus Trebs, resident organ builder at
Weimar, built an organ for this church according to a specification created by
his good friend and colleague, Bach. Over the years the instrument has been
altered and rebuilt many times. The present instrument, which retains the
original case, was built in 1991 by Gerhard Böhm of Gotha. The intention
has been to restore the organ, in as much as possible, to its original
condition. The Gothic-style nave, though not large, has double galleries and a
tall, vaulted ceiling. The organ is a modest instrument of two manuals and 28
stops with a sound which I would describe as surprisingly sweet and gentle.
Bernd Müller played an interesting program for us designed, it would seem,
to demonstrate the organ's versatility. We heard music from many different
styles and periods--Gottfried Homilius to Gordon Balch Nevin and everything in
between, concluding with the Bach Toccata in D Minor. There was some open
console time for us, and then it was back to the bus and on to Weimar.
Weimar
Nestled in a scenic river valley, just over the hill from
Buchenwald where we had been only two days before, Weimar is a small, thriving,
industrial city of 60,000 people. Because of its rich intellectual and cultural
history, it possesses n abundance of monuments, museums and libraries and has
become a popular tourist mecca. The artistic and intellectual associations are
mind-boggling: Schütz, J. G. Walther, Cranach the Elder--and the Younger,
Goethe, Schiller, Liszt, Wagner, Nietzsche, Strauss, Brahms and--more
recently--Walter Gropius' Bauhaus movement. And so the list goes on. At one
time it was suggested that Goethe had made Weimar the literary capital of the
world.
But we had come to Weimar to pay homage to Bach. It was here
that Bach spent ten years of his life, fathered three famous sons--among other
offspring--composed thirty church cantatas, and created most of the great organ
works which we cherish. In Bach's day, Weimar had a population of around
5,000--at least a third of whom were in the employ of the ducal court. Of the
original buildings, only the tower and gate remain to remind us of earlier
times. The ducal castles have disappeared, including the chapel in which Bach
once worked. His house no longer stands, but the site--just off the market
place--has been marked by a commemorative tablet. In Weimar, it seems that Bach
has been upstaged by Goethe, whose presence continues to dominate the scene.
We were scheduled for a guided tour of the Liszt House
(every celebrity except Bach seems
to have a "House" in Weimar). Since the Liszt house could only
accommodate half of us, there was time to stroll about a bit. The day was cold
and damp and dreary, and the city seemed strangely silent and subdued even for
a Sunday. We were not all that far from Erfurt, and perhaps that may have been
the reason. As the afternoon drew to a close, we gathered in the old market
square and split up into smaller groups to find dinner on our own. And then it
was back on the bus and on to Altenburg for the night. By the time we arrived,
it was well after dark, and most of us were more than ready to collect our
luggage and call it a day.
But Fate had other plans in store for our tired and somewhat
bedraggled little group. It would seem that somewhere in the land of
"tourdom," a communication glitch had occurred. Our small hotel had
been anxiously awaiting our arrival for nearly three hours. Extra staff had
been brought in, and an elaborate and sumptuous buffet had been prepared and
beautifully laid out for us. When our genial hosts learned that we had already
eaten in Weimar, the disappointment was quite palpable. We were all tired, and
no one could possibly have been hungry. I freshened up and returned to the
lobby to make a phone call home with absolutely no intention of having a second
supper. But by the time I had finished my call, the magic had begun, and people
were drifting back down and into the dining room. Who could resist?! A
misbegotten dinner was rapidly transforming itself into an impromptu party with
much mingling and good conversation all around. It struck me as being a bit
like the welcome "interval" at a long concert--time to relax, time to
process that which had already transpired, and time to gather a "second
wind" for the remainder of our adventure yet to come. Gemütlichkeit
prevailed, and by the end of the evening, I was already looking forward to
tomorrow.
This article will be continued.
