We have a friend, Thea, who sings alto in a choir that performs Bach’s
St Matthew’s Passion in Deventer, Holland. She is a Bach enthusiast
and when my wife told her several years ago that she did not really understand his music, her
response was simple: ‘I will teach you’.
And she did. She hosted us in her home in Zwolle; gave us a tutorial on St Matthew's Passion; and arranged for us to attend the concert in Deventer.
Thea explained to us how Bach tied the music tightly to the text. Just
a few examples: the voice of the Evangelist rises slightly when he says ‘Hohenpriester’
(high priest); the flute is tear like; the violins bring the whipping; there is
staccato for the coins dropping. There are many more.
Every year she sings; every year she notices new details,
new layers. That's Bach.
Most precious of all was her explanation about the structure
of the entire work. It is in the form of a cross. The first half of the performance,
(1 – 35) is the horizontal bar of the cross, and the second half is the vertical
bar (36 – 78). But what happens at the intersection? The answer is Peter’s denial.
Jesus prophesies about the denial half way through the first half, and
then one third into the second half, the vertical bar, the actual denial
happens.
And after that terrible human failure we have what is perhaps
the peak of poignancy among the many mountains of Bach’s musical genius: the Erbame
dich, Lord have mercy.
That mercy becomes Christ crucified.
If Bach is the fifth evangelist, then surely ‘St Matthew’s Passion’
is the fifth Gospel, underlined by this structure. Whether we are believers or
unbelievers makes little difference. All of us have a moral compass, and all of
us have been where Peter has been. We have denied the truth. Not the functional
two plus two truth, that is just information, but truth which has its roots in
the Hebrew word Emet and speaks of loyalty, faithfulness, integrity,
reliability. No wonder the Erbame dich brings such comfort to so many
millions.
Deventer
I have attended performances of St Matthew’s Passion in
London and Madrid; Derventer, Holland is in a different league. After that first visit in 2016, my wife and I went again last week (Holy Week, 2024). What happened
there is etched onto our hearts.
At the end of the performance, nobody moved. There was an
intense, profound silence throughout the church. The idea of cheering – which of
course the musicians deserved, and which often happens after a concert – would have
been wholly out of place.
I sat next to a lady who comes every year. She said that Deventer
was the best St Matthew’s Passion in the Netherlands, and there are quite a
few.
There are reasons for this.
First the church. The acoustics are superb, and the
musicians can be positioned exactly as Bach intended, with the two orchestras
and choirs facing each other, the soloists between them, the Evangelist in the
pulpit – and the boys’ choir, in a balcony at the western end. The cross in the
music, is there physically.
Also the church brings immediacy for the audience are all
around the central area. This is there as the music happens, and during the
break and at the end. There is no backstage. Everyone mingles together.
There is also the conductor, Klaas Stok. There was no baton,
and absolutely no theatre, just his hands and his eyes, bringing it all to
life, often from memory. This is an extraordinarily complicated piece, so much
depending on pace and fluidity. Stok never let us down.
During the interval I fell into conversation with a middle-man.
He was surprised when he learned that my wife and I had travelled from England
to hear this performance. I understood his surprise, but I assured him it was
well worth it.
And it was, for I cannot remember any other concert that has had such emotional impact on me. In fact, it is not really possible to find words to describe how one feels when the performance ends.
I think it is very likely we will be going to Deventer again.
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