A gift for you, this example of the genius of Western culture whose fumes we can now only catch a whiff of here and there. There was a time when people really thought Bach’s work approached the eternal; it has been long overtaken by the random noises of modernity.
It is about as eternal as… well,think of a child with her nose pushed against an empty rectangular pink box. She’s inhaling deeply from the memories of those chocolates it used to contain. When she’d first untied the gold ribbon and pulled off the top, the richness of those three layers seemed immense. If not exactly forever, five pounds was surely enough to last a long, long time.
These organ works are beloved by the Baron, who — without missing a beat — went straight from the Grateful Dead to Bach.
Sometimes visitors would ask, “do you listen to this church music all the time?” To which he would reply… well, let’s just say the Baron is indeed a genuinely courteous man. His rules for civil discourse arise from who he is.
A personal favorite of those interrogations about his musicial tastes came from Momma. One day after she’d been living with us for several month she got up the courage to inquire, “is this by Beethoven? He’s the one who wrote all those dirges, eh?
Umm…since we all laughed, including Momma, maybe you had to be there.
When we’ve been obliterated back to B.C., the only “music” our descendants will hear will be the ear-aching broadcasts of the muezzins’ calls to prayer emanating from competing mosques. Fortunately (for their sakes), those people-yet-to-be won’t have fumes to miss or even empty boxes to hold.
Enjoy while you can… via Takuan, a gift for our readers and especially for the Baron.