There are times in one’s life that one feels so uplifted it is utterly unforgettable. The performance of Bach’s St Matthew Passion on April 8 was one such experience.
As I write, I still feel utterly overwhelmed by the beauty of this colossal work, which is unsurpassed in the history of music.
It convinces me more than any other work of art that it is possible, as in the words of Pope Benedict XVI quoted by the Apostolic Nuncio in his foreword, “to help our spirit perceive in the language of music the intimate harmony of divine beauty”.
I could write tomes about how I felt during the performance and how I still feel now.
This is after all Bach’s greatest work; a colossal act of creation which fills three all too short hours with choruses, arias, chorales, recitatives, canons and fugues recounting the Passion of Christ according to St Matthew, along with their appropriate meditations which underscore the intense emotional content of the oeuvre.
I had always thought listening to Bach’s St Matthew Passion in our metropolitan cathedral was an impossible dream. Thanks to Sr Beniamina Portelli and the St Monica Choir, this dream became a reality for which I am eternally grateful.
It is so difficult when one is still under a spell to be dispassionate about something. A work like this, performed with such style and conviction, makes one oblivious to any shortcomings there may have been. I feel that although history is undoubtedly debatable, faith is utterly indisputable.
Music like this transcends the human experience. Only Bach ever achieved this. To me he speaks with the mouth of God or whoever the supreme creator of the universe may be.
Bach speaks of a mystery that is too great for us ordinary mortals to comprehend, but in a way that, if we let it, will transport us to a state of divine ecstasy.
The forces needed to pull off such a work are considerable; a double choir, in this case the St Monica Choir and members of the Cologne Cathedral Choir directed by Berthold Wicke, who also performed the organ continuo.
The Junge Philharmonic Brandenburg Orchestra Berlin was conducted by Hans-Jurgen Nagel, who kept the rhythms tight and crisp but never devoid of the emotional content that renders each performance of St Matthew Passion a literal act of faith.
Then there were no less than seven soloists, the most important being the evangelist himself who recounts the story of the Passion and is the kingpin of the whole work.
The counter tenor who performed this exacting role was not the one on the programme; however, I could not understand the full name of his substitute when it was announced before the performance, although I gathered that his first name was Joseph.
He was astoundingly expressive and brilliant, as was the bass Simon Robinson in the part of Jesus; his every utterance containing inimitable gravitas that – as George Bernard Shaw said of Mozart’s Sarastro arias – can be put in the mouth of God without blasphemy.
Soprano Gloria Rehm and alto Retczak were splendid in their arias and recitatives which lent so much pathos to the original text by St Matthew, and they could easily have been the evangelist angels depicted by Caravaggio in the ‘rejected’ original painting of the saint for the Contarelli chapel.
Such human tenderness is unique in counter-reformation iconography.
Both performers excelled, especially the alto during what is probably my favourite aria, Ebarme Dich Mein Gott, during which the intertwined scoring for voice and solo violin brought tears to my eyes.
Then there were the two Maltese soloists, tenor Charles Vincenti, who acquitted himself with honour, and Albert Buttigieg, whose Mache Dich, Mein Herze, Rein was beautiful and who gave full vent to the emotional content of the words of Joseph of Arimathea.
I found it inexplicable that none of the chorale texts seemed to agree with the ones printed in the programme, although it was a small price to pay for three hours of overtly ecstatic beauty.
As I have said before, in the face of such an achievement it would be pettifogging if not petulant to mention the occasional slips and imperfections.
By concentrating on the work as a whole, the experience was so wonderful that anything but praise would be superfluous.
From the opening iconic double chorus, to Kommt Ihr Tochter Helft Mir Klagen, to the concluding mirror image of Wir Setzen Uns Mit Tranen Nieder, the pace was tight.
Yet is was reminiscent of Stokowski transcriptions due to the modern instruments used and because Nagel gave a wonderfully inspirational interpretation.
A huge thanks to all concerned, especially Sr Beniamina whose faith in both God and the capabilities of her fellow man made this unforgettable experience possible.