Teary-eyed by Bach

This week, every time I have listened to Bach's chamber music, I have become uncontrollably weepy. Sometimes if I listen to a particularly moving recording of something I like (e.g. Szeryng playing the Chaconne) I get teary, but I'm usually not weepy.

Earlier this week, I heard the Oistrakh father-son combo playing Bach. It wasn't an interpretation I liked too much (too too much vibrato), but even through such a filter, the true Bach shone through. It made me cry. I started thinking about Mary Contrary, and the heavens and all of that philosophical stuff. Bach has that effect on me, as does listening to the rumbling waves of the ocean or watching a beautiful sunset.

Can anyone can listen to Bach without somehow being moved by it? Not that I'd hold it against anyone if they told me that they're unmoved by his music. (Though I might wonder if they have a heart of steel.) But can people who say they don't like classical music really not like Bach?

He was my first love. No matter how many times I've listened to him, and no matter how my tastes in classical music have evolved, I can't seem to "outgrow" Bach. Yes, I go through my different phases of music and composers and styles. Sometimes I don't listen to him for months. In fact, usually, given my choice between a good string quartet and Bach, I'll choose the former. But eventually, I come back, seeking that honest, simple-yet-soulful, heart-on-my-sleeve-but-not-obnoxiously-so sound. Bach just sounds very grounded to me—like a pillar of a great monument.