Canadian baritone Matthew Zadow, who lives in Belgium, sang the first of three performances of J.S. Bach’s St Matthew Passion on Friday with Belgians, the Octopus Ensemble. He had a moment of insight during another singer’s aria that encapsulates everything that makes music so attractive to listeners as well as performers.
- Classical Music 101: What Does A Conductor Do? - June 17, 2019
- Classical Music 101 | What Does Period Instrument Mean? - May 6, 2019
- CLASSICAL MUSIC 101 | What Does It Mean To Be In Tune? - April 23, 2019
This is from Zadow’s blog:
It felt wonderful to have succeeded at something so challenging, that I have been anticipating for years and years, and that I have been working on consistently for more than a year.
I had a number of reflective moments during the performance… the one I wish to write about now happened after Pilate asks what should be done with Jesus; the people shout that he should be crucified, and Pilate asks, “Was hat er denn Übels getan? / What evil has he done?”
There is a soprano recitative that explains that he did only good and kind things, never evil ones, and then there is a heartbreakingly beautiful, still aria with soprano, flute solo, and two Oboe da caccia, like a quiet chamber music meditation suddenly appearing in the midst of a thunderstorm.
The text is:
Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben,
Out of love my saviour is willing to die,
Von einer Sünde weiß er nichts.
– Of any sin he knows nothing –
Dass das ewige Verderben
So that eternal ruin
Und die Strafe des Gerichts
And the punishment of judgement
Nicht auf meiner Seele bliebe.
May not remain upon my soul.
I sat there in the midst of perhaps one hundred people on the stage – the orchestra, the choirs, the other soloists – and other hundreds in the auditorium, all of us listening and curious to learn what the flute and soprano soloists, supported by the oboes, had to say about this moment of the story of sacrifice, suffering, love and redemption.
It came to me that there are very few public activities today that are so full of faith, trust, compassion and hope as performing a piece of music like the Matthew Passion.
The conductor trusts that the orchestra and soloists have learned their parts properly prior to rehearsal, that they will be open to his suggestions, that they will be energized but not made anxious by the stress of performance.
The choirs trust that the conductor’s vision is one they will follow, and that he will cue them when needed and help them “let go” appropriately, yet maintain discipline where needed.
The soprano soloist trusts the flautist to paint an emotional picture in the introduction that moves her to something authentic, perhaps newly discovered in the moment of performance, and the flautist trusts that the soprano will do the same for him.
Everyone trusts the conductor to keep the whole thing together. Each person on that stage has their emotional antennae fully extended, and the gain is turned all the way up.
The audience is hungry for this connection; they hope to discover this secret knowledge, this wordless knowing, and share in it also.
It is this “opening up” that is so magical, and for me it is the closest thing to group telepathy that I think anyone can experience.
For me you can talk all you want about teamwork in the context of sport, but for my money it pales in comparison to what is possible on the stage.
As well you can debate points of theology all you like, but one cannot listen to such a marvellous construction as the St. Matthew Passion and remain unmoved: it is undoubtedly a miracle.
Matthew Zadow
- Classical Music 101: What Does A Conductor Do? - June 17, 2019
- Classical Music 101 | What Does Period Instrument Mean? - May 6, 2019
- CLASSICAL MUSIC 101 | What Does It Mean To Be In Tune? - April 23, 2019
