the Grand Tour blog

Meeting Bach's family in Arnstadt

Tuesday: One of the best things about arriving in Arnstadt was to walk into the Bachkirche – so called since 1935 but originally the 'Neue Kirche' (New Church) – to hear the sound of the organ as someone practiced. Playing Bach, of course. I sat for about ten minutes to listen until they'd finished, with a couple of other visitors. The church was built in 1683 to replace an earlier church that had burnt down in 1581.

In 1703, at the age of 18, Johann Sebastian Bach was called to the church to test the new organ, and soon was appointed organist, until he moved to Mülhausen in 1707. He lived at the time with his aunt Martha Elizabeth in what is now the Bachhaus; it has only recently been rescued and renovated, and opened to the public in 2004. Only a couple of rooms on the ground floor are open, and to be honest the renovations have necessarily been so extensive that I didn't really feel the spirits of the Bach family.

Venice: Vivaldi at the Pietà

A dream come true: to hear Vivaldi performed in the church of Santa Maria della Pietà. I've just come back from a concert there which consisted of Vivaldi's concertos RV 168 and 169 – for 2 volins, viola, cello, violone and theorbo – and his motet Nulla in mundo (RV 630) for soprano and the same band, plus Boccherini's Stabat Mater for soprano and string quintet. Boccherini was born in Lucca, whence I have just come. Soon after arriving in Venice I visited the Pietà, which faces the lagoon to the east of St Mark's square, to see if there were any details of opening times; last time I was here it was closed for renovation. I didn't need much persuasion to buy a (rather expensive) ticket for the 9:00pm concert.

La Scala Milan

First to the station to leave my case for the day, and spent about 15 minutes finding the Left Luggage place (it's at the extreme right of the station, in the same corridor as the big street level ticket office). The loos are equally badly signposted, but are at the opposite end, one level up. Bought a couple of Metro tickets, just €1 a time, and set off for the Duomo. 

The weather was very dull, and threatening to rain; in fact they told me in the hotel that rain was forecast for 11:00 until 14:00. So I walked through the splendid Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II to La Scala, to see if any visiting restrictions were posted for today; just as well I did as there is a strike in the opera house this afternoon. Bought a museum ticket and was directed first to the auditorium, into one of the boxes about halfway up the six rows, and opposite the stage. Spent quite a long time enjoying the fabulous interior as my eyes adapted to the very dim light. Then to the museum itself, consisting largely of portraits and busts of the great singers and composers in La Scala's history. Toscanini of course, with the distinctive moustache; Caruso with short hair and a sort of quiff, with his broad shoulders; Sartini's painting of Maria Callas, stunning in black to match her eyes and hair; and many others. Upstairs many prints of stage sets, and an old drawing of the auditorium with no seats, the great and the good promenading.

Getting in the mood with Vivaldi

A superb concert by members of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment (OAE) at the QEH last night, playing the whole of Vivaldi's L'estro armonico ('Harmonic Inspiration'): twelve concertos for one, two and four violins and small string orchestra. Actually two concerts, with an interesting talk by musicologist Richard Maunder between them. Hard work for the OAE leaders – Alison Bury, Kati Debretzeni, Margaret Faultless and Matthew Truscott – who had to perform their virtuoso parts almost continuously for a couple of hours, but a delight for the rest of us. But they did look as if they were enjoying the experience, and there was much swapping around to make sure they each played the right mix of concertos, a nice touch. 

Vivaldi wrote L'estro armonico in Venice, of course, and it was published in Amsterdam in 1711. In the programme notes Richard Wigmore says the concertos were written to show off the talents of his pupils at the Pietà, but Richard Maunder insisted in his talk that the players were not good enough at that stage and the concertos were written specifically for publication. 1711 was the year Vivaldi returned to the Pietà after being voted out of his teacher's job by the board of governors a couple of years earlier, so I suspect Maunder is right. Whatever, the music is wonderful.