The gift of Bach0
Leipzig, May 1749.
Arm in arm by with his son Carl Philippe, old Bach descends the stairs of the Academy of Sciences in Leipzig. They have attended a morning lecture explaining how a mysterious force, gravity, keeps the planets in perfect dynamic balance. The times are no longer as they were, the Enlightenment and Newtonian science are changing the way of understanding the nature of things.
Mounted in his carriage, they leave the city. The old Bach, almost blind, dressed in the old fashion, with a dark jacket and a wig in a dated style, he remains as the last bastion of an ending time, the time of Luther.
Lying on the grass, no longer speaking. It’s spring; its light and temperature, and the purr of its running water are magnificent. Bach seems asleep, but remains conscious in a pleasant state between wakefulness and sleep, from which he can dominate his brain activity perfectly.
Carl Philipp observes his father with respect, suffering nostalgia for times past, having seen old age gradually erode his father’s senses. However, immensely happy, old Bach enjoys doing nothing. Conscious of the moment, he is carried away by the images that come to him, and removed to his youth, when he wrote in Cothen the Allegro of a Sonato for Violin. As usual, he is preparing to let his music sprout from the best instrument, his brain; when the oldest of the musicians of the future, God, sends him to sleep so deeply and gives him a premonitory dream.
Bach listen to his Allegro transcribed to Spanish guitar, observes the scene in some time yet to come, and while Carl Philippe observes an amused smile is drawn on the face of his father …
Ignacio Botella Ausina