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Rating: Regeneration
A single word to define the music of Bach.
I found in my grandmother's attic, amidst my uncle's vast collection of vinyls, a still untouched 33 RPM, covered in dust, bearing the title "Passacaglia in C minor"... it dated back to a 1967 Fabbri edition from a newsstand (one of the first). As I opened it, I savored the smells of aged and stale, remaining frozen for a long time with the vinyl in my hand: a good 40 years separate me from the day it was created, almost 300 from the composition of this masterpiece...
Written around 1716, Bach's Passacaglia more than any other makes us enter the workshop of the master, of the man-creator who defeats the material; the word passacaglia owes its name to the Spanish pasar (to cross) and calle (road), and it's essentially about songs and music played by roaming musicians, popular music, with few and meager pretensions. Here, Bach's genius reveals itself in all its majesty: from the extremely small to the immensely large. Starting from a very simple motif, Bach creates a powerful fresco of sacred, metaphysical music; he analyzes it using all the artifices of counterpoint and composition, fully revealing the incredible skills of his superior craftsmanship.
The use of the organ emphasizes the centrality of the "obstinate bass" in this work, that is, the succession of a long note (minim) followed by a short one of half value (crotchet), which transfigures as the process becomes more difficult and exhausting: the exaltation grows and something divine ignites. I like to listen to it in the dark. I turn off the light and savor the joys of the tomb. Sometimes it's as if I were listening to music after my death.
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