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Bach against Modernity, by Michael Marissen. New York: Oxford University Press, 2023, xvi + 184 pages, $34.95.

No less than Beethoven referred to Johann Sebastian Bach as “the Father of all harmony,”[1] and he is far from alone in his paean of the celebrated cantor of Leipzig’s Thomaskirche. Countless other composers, performers, writers, artists, and thinkers have likewise expressed wonderment at the creative power, matchless organization, and staggering poignancy of Bach’s music. Such an assessment might initially suggest that much of his body of work is beyond the reach of the masses to appreciate; on the contrary, his music has virtually permeated the musical consciousness and enjoyment of a varied strata of classes and cultures right up to the present day. This raises an interesting question: since his music has such appeal to both non-religious people and Christians alike, should one assume that his music was thus borne out of a secular, modernistic, “enlightened” worldview? Or put another way, should the universal appeal of Bach’s music be attributed to some kind of intrinsic “modernism” which enables it to “transcend” its religious themes? Although numerous scholars have answered these questions in the affirmative, the very title of this book leaves no doubt as to its author’s view; namely, that Bach’s Christian worldview was absolutely integral to his art, and this is the thesis he very ably defends here in this fascinating new collection of essays.

The concept of modernism means different things to different people, so Marissen in the first chapter wisely identifies his working understanding of the term for the reader, opting for philosopher Louis Dupre’s fivefold designation:

  • “exalting reason above revelation—whatever the flaws of reason—as arbiter of truth”
  • “exalting human autonomy and achievement”
  • “exalting religious tolerance”
  • “exalting cosmopolitanism”
  • “exalting social and political progressiveness” (5)

If Bach, on the contrary, is a pre-Enlightenment thinker and opposed to the above tenets, what accounts for his broad appeal? The author rejects the common explanation that people simply want to be entertained, and he proceeds to ally himself with the illuminating sentiment of Richard Russo (5–6), “It’s been my experience that most people don’t want to be entertained. They want to be comforted” (emphasis added by author).[2] In the author’s experience, non-Christians pick up on a joy and hope in Bach’s music that cannot be reduced to a mere “aesthetic exaltation,” even though these same listeners stop short of assigning these emotions to the specifics of the Christian message (6). Still, many musicologists nevertheless insist that the sheer greatness and order of Bach’s music must be due to math and science rather than religion.

At this point, a more devotionally-minded admirer might be hasty to react by appealing to an alleged preponderance of the markings “J.J.” (“Jesu juva”—“Jesus, help!”) and “S.D.G.” (“Soli deo gloria”—“To God alone be glory!”) in the scores of Bach to clinch the argument singlehandedly that he was a religious composer. Some have even claimed that these markings were affixed to every single composition. Although this is an attractive and oft-claimed proposition, Marissen sets the record straight with a helpful sketch of Bach’s notations. Although there is not nearly the number of markings so frequently and carelessly asserted, they still occur plentifully enough to rebut the idea that Bach saw himself essentially as a non-religious composer. Furthermore, a chronological survey of Bach’s vocal compositions is given which clearly indicates the composer’s utter rejection of the reliability of human reason unaided by divine revelation. Lest it be said that Bach simply included such sentiments in his works publicly to appease traditionalist patrons, the author provides a lengthy and telling quote from Bach himself, inscribed in Bach’s own hand in the Calov Bible from the esteemed composer’s private collection (you will have to buy the book to read this very revealing citation!); needless to say, it powerfully supports the fact that Bach’s somber view of human reason is one he held in private as well as in public.

The author goes on to shatter any contention that Bach held to any of the other tenets of modernism. Regardless of Bach’s monumentally high achievements, passages from his cantatas see him falling squarely in line with the Lutheran doctrine that even the highest human works are corrupted by sin and incapable of justifying one before God. Far from modernism’s exalting of religious tolerance, Bach’s cantata 126 petitions God with these words: “Uphold us, Lord, with your word, and restrain the murderousness of the Pope and of the Muslim . . .” (20). Contrary to cosmopolitanism, the author provides a passage from cantata 24 which speaks of “German faithfulness and goodness” (25, emphasis added). The author ends chapter 1 by showing that Bach, far from being a political and social progressive, wrote vocal compositions which extol a “premodern, hierarchical social view” in which even a so-called “secular” cantata can speak of “God as the upholder of the Saxon throne” (28–29).

In chapter 2, the writer engages in a captivating discussion on the handwritten entries in Bach’s personal “Calov Bible,” named after Abraham Calov, who compiled various passages from the writings of Luther to function as commentary for a study Bible. Bach’s numerous marginalia in this Bible reveal a man thoroughly committed to Lutheran beliefs rather than being an autonomous thinker. The compelling proofs cited by the author in this regard include the care with which Bach corrected typographical errors, biographical statements of his receiving God’s consolation in an antagonistic world, reflections on the divine nature of his calling, and his belief that the God devotionally “immanent” in his music is the God of the Bible who affects the hearts of believers, rather than some vague notion of “god” or “art as religion” springing from the mere psyche as opposed to Scripture (39)—a notion any good Lutheran like Bach would quickly see to be idolatry. On the contrary, an important handwritten note in Bach’s Calov Bible alongside 1 Chronicles 29[28]:21 indicates that this Scripture passage was “proof” to Bach that “his eighteenth-century church music is an ‘antitype’ of which the ancient Jerusalem Temple music was a ‘type’” (40). Similarly, a convincing argument is advanced by the author that Bach’s use of the word vorspiel in his annotation next to Exodus 15:20, contrary to popular thought that it refers to the prelude to a composition, is actually another spelling of Luther’s “furspiel”—a theological word for “type,” which in the context of Exodus would indicate that this “Song of Moses” was a prefigurement of Christian singing in the New Covenant era. Marissen ends his treatment on Bach’s Calov Bible entries by highlighting Bach’s interest in the Book of Leviticus. The cumulative weight of Marissen’s analysis greatly helps to establish Bach as a devout Lutheran who cannot be lumped into the mold of Enlightenment thinking.

The next four chapters in the book consist of various talks given by the author in which he provides concise assessment of several significant compositions of Bach, each example further cementing the central premise that Bach was operating firmly within a premodern, Lutheran framework. Far from Bach emerging as a modern individual seeking supreme satisfaction through his own human attainment of excellence, the thoughtful reader is presented with an artist humbly self-consciously functioning as a recipient of divine grace. Particularly poignant in this regard is the author’s treatment of the Christmas Oratorio, which ends with a 50-year-old Bach contemplating, not some heritage of earthly fame after his death, but the glorious prospect of departing his present “mortal coil” to dwell in eternal and heavenly blessedness with God. All this is in keeping with the very heart of Bach’s artistic orbit—an orbit in which spiritual contentment is his lifeblood, as opposed to mere aesthetic enjoyment devoid of scriptural faith. It is impossible to read these cogently argued chapters and conclude that one is reaping the full benefit of Bach’s sublime music apart from personal faith in the God of Bach. I would simply add that the reader would receive even greater profit and enjoyment of the penetrating insights of these chapters by listening to recordings of the vocal compositions being treated: Cantatas 64, 23, 102, and the Christmas Oratorio. If a recommendation is desired, the recordings of the marvelous conductor and world-renowned Bach expert Masaaki Suzuki (himself a devout Christian referenced in this book) with the resplendent Bach Collegium Japan are the best you will find anywhere and are not to be missed.

    In chapter 7, the author collaborates with Daniel Melamed in an interesting discussion of the technical issues associated with translating the librettos from Bach’s church cantatas along with supplying annotations for each. Chapters 8 and 9 deal with the thorny question of anti-Judaism within Bach’s art, particularly focusing on a group of choruses from the St. John Passion. This is followed by a treatment of the music of Bach and his sons in the Jewish salons of the mid and late eighteenth century, particularly those operated by the German Jewish salonniere Sara Itzig Levy of Berlin, in which

men and women, Jews and Christians, aristocrats and bourgeois, all gathered to drink tea and eat finger food; engage in convivial conversation about literature, art, philosophy, and politics; and hear performances of certain old-fashioned and newer repertories of instrumental music whose styles we now call high baroque and pre-classical. (148)

The last two chapters cover an oft-overlooked component of Bach’s oeuvre: the theological character of Bach’s secular compositions. The author very potently dispels the common misconception that Bach’s instrumental music had nothing to do with God. The Brandenburg Concertos, typically thought to be unmoored from any spiritual “constraints,” are argued by the author rather to evince a “fluidity between the secular and liturgical” (161). Finally, Marissen turns his attention to what he calls “The Serious Nature of the Quodlibet in Bach’s Goldberg Variations” (163). The “Quodlibet” (a musical composition utilizing several different melodies) is the final variation in this celebrated work. Often understood to be a jocular, lighthearted movement, Marissen explains that Bach combines a folk tune (“Cabbage and Turnips”) with the music of a hymn, showing that Bach, rather than setting forth a sacred verses secular dichotomy in his body of work, is actually juxtaposing those spheres in an “all-embracing harmony,” and that far from being “jokesome entertainment,” the Goldberg Variations were written as “an act of premodern, Lutheran tribute to the heavenly and earthly realms of God” (172).

Marissen’s exceedingly fine work has much to commend it. To analyze and elucidate the outlook of arguably the greatest composer the world has ever seen, particularly in the face of much scholarship which is sadly antithetical to the perspective of the author, is no small task. The author’s undeniable scholarship, however, is so careful and extensive, the reader will be hard-pressed not to reach Marissen’s well-reasoned conclusions. For those who think that the music of Bach can be fully appreciated apart from possessing the scriptural faith which informed and controlled the heart and mind of its composer, this book will powerfully challenge such an opinion. For those who share the faith of Bach, there will be many gems here to stock head and heart, setting one on an unparalleled journey to explore with even greater devotional heft this truly great and spiritual composer. The book can be heartily recommended without reservation!  

Endnotes

[1] In Martin Geck, Johann Sebastian Bach; His Life and Work (Orlando, Austin, New York, San Diego, Toronto, London: Harcourt, 2006), ix.

[2] Richard Russo, Straight Man (New York: Random House, 1997), xi.

Stephen Michaud is an Orthodox Presbyterian minister and serves as the pastor of Pleasant Mountain Presbyterian Church in Bridgton, Maine. He has also performed professionally for many years as a jazz fusion drummer. Ordained Servant Online, October, 2024.

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