good friday thoughts

Today is the saddest day of the Catholic calendar, but it couldn't have been more beautiful. It's the 8th or 9th perfect day in a row, weather wise. The trees have taken note and are awakening, the birds are real loud, and love is in the air- yesterday in the Schlossgarten I kept being distracted form my reading by the wild amount of ladybug lovemaking going on next to me. Was it rude to watch?
But the beauty and romanticism of Heidelberg has literally reached fairy-tale levels. The only thing that snapped me out of the trance yesterday at the castle were the American jet-fighters zooming overhead, returning from the desert. But as it's silly beauty increases, so does its choking volume of annoying American and Japanese tourists, so I guess there's no real net gain in coolness. But I've found some quiet spots and am not doubting the possibilities for this semester.
I was lucky enough to attend a performance of Bach's St Matthew Passion today in the Heiliggeistkirche. I sang the piece with the Chicago Chorale last year, and it was by far the most rewarding and enjoyable choral work I've had the pleasure of performing. The piece is incredibly demanding, for everyone involved, including the audience- 3.5 hrs in uncomfortable church pews, being told arguably the most heartbreaking story every told. Luckily it is hauntingly beautiful and powerful. The performance today was good, but not great. Granted I payed only 8 euro for the super-nose-bleed seats, in the back of the church and at the very top, with only a view to the other side of the church. I thought a few times that the acoustics would be better in a cafe outside of the church, but you get what you pay for. My critique is short and unprofessional, as I really only know the piece from the choir stands. But it seemed that the director simply was not aware of its gravitas. I think the main strength of our Chorale performance (under the brilliant Bruce Tammen) was the fact that Bruce was fully aware of how beautiful the notes Bach wrote are, and that their beauty must be given air to breathe in and pauses in which to bloom. Today's performance seemed to rush through, trusting that its audience already knew its beauty and haunting story. We all know the story, and thats exactly why we enjoy the self-aware, almost egotistical dramatic pauses. It's comfortingly heartwrenching. For example, after Jesus dies the Evangelist (narrator) describes the curtain in the temple tearing in two and the storms raging above. The chorus, or the crowd, then exclaims: "Wahrlich, dieser ist Gottes Sohn gewesen." [Truly, this was the Son of God.] With Bruce, we took our time on this and truly dug into the regret and pain that this line entails, coming from the crowd which moments earlier cried for his execution. Today this seemed a sidenote- blink and you missed it. Let us have our moment of Catholic guilt!
Also lacking today was the absolutely sublime Bass aria, called "Komm, süßes Kreuz" [Come, sweet Cross. Starts at 1:38 in this clip]. Accompanied by a searching, swirling viola da gamba, the soloist begs Jesus to allow him to help him carry his cross. It was omitted today, sadly.
I hope to attend (or sing) a performance of the St Matthew Passion each year. I've got two in a row now.
Tomorrow I'm headed to Köln for Easter. It's always good to see the relatives- they're always so kind and generous, and home cooking sounds wonderful.

I wish everyone a happy and comfortable Easter weekend.

Love, Al.