An interview with J.S. Bach: musical genius, composer extraordinaire, and unbelievably influential dude. This organ-playing wizard wrote over 1,000 musical works, fathered 20 children, once spent a month in prison, and has a legacy still holding strong 275 years after his death. You probably like Bach’s music more than you even know. Let’s talk to him and see if you end up liking Bach himself as well. I sure did. I’m a big fan of many different artists and composers over the multiple eras of Western music, and one of the greatest figures of the past few centuries is Johann Sebastian Bach. J.S. Bach, or just “Bach” as we tend to call him, despite what you may think, was more than a stodgy Baroque-era composer who played the organ and wrote music for uber-formal church choirs wearing choristers robes and poofy, white neck ruffs… Actually, Mr. Bach is, in my opinion, the first rock star—or “ba(roque)” star, if you will—a superhero of the musical world, someone who laid the foundation for so much of the music we appreciate today and an innovator whose legacy is so large that we can’t even see it from our vantage point today because we live in the thick of it. I really like Johan Sebastian Bach, and the odds are, you do, too. I grew up singing his songs in the local children’s chorus and practiced his melodies when learning to play the piano, trumpet, and tuba. …and almost everybody in the Western world likes Bach and what he did, whether they know it or not. Want proof? If you, at any point, have had an appreciation for: * Complex harmonies * Polyphony * Counterpoint * Improvisation * Electronica * Pop * Rock * …or even Jazz Or, if you like relatively recent bands and musicians, including: Emerson Lake and Palmer, Deep Purple, Billy Joel, Led Zeppelin, and yes, even The Beatles… then you like Bach! You just didn’t know it. There are a lot of works by Bach that you probably already know. How about: * The Brandenburg Concertos * Prelude in C Major (Ave Maria) * Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring * Sheep May Safely Graze * Air on the G String * …and, of course, Toccata and Fugue in G Minor Have I convinced you yet? I am biased, of course: I’m a fan, in part, because he reminds me of me! Like Bach, I am also a man of German heritage, a Christian, a father, a musician, and a student of music, theology, and multiple languages, including German, Italian, French, and Latin. We have a lot in common. I think Bach was awesome, and for my money, I think he’s right up there with Wagner, Beethoven, Schubert, and Mozart. I’m telling you: You should listen to more Bach, starting now. I am certain it will enrich your life. But, enough about his musical works and legacy, now let’s take the time to get to know Bach, the person, shall we? Let’s listen to the man himself, The German Genius, from beyond the grave and see what his life was like and what he’d say if I were interviewing him today. Ron Stauffer: Hello, Mr. Bach. What should I call you? Can I call you Joe? Ah, Joe! That’s quite amusing! In my day, I was more accustomed to “Herr Bach” or “ Kapellmeister.” But, seeing as we’re sharing cigars and whiskey in your modern den, Joe will do just fine, my friend. What’s your first question for me, Ron? Ron Stauffer: You were an unbelievable composer, very famous today in the 21st century, but during your lifetime, you were kind of unknown, right? Weren't you just, like, the local organ player at your church in your own neighborhood? Ah, yes, you’re quite right, Ron. During my lifetime, I wasn’t a famous composer like you know me today. I was really more of a church musician, primarily known for my skills as an organist. I worked in various towns, playing in churches, leading choirs, and writing music for the services. I wasn’t some grand figure in the musical world at the time—just doing my duties, keeping things running. Many of my compositions were simply for practical purposes, not for fame. I suppose you could say I was just the local organ guy! Ron Stauffer: That sounds almost impossible to believe today. It almost seems like having Michael Jordan be your son's middle school basketball coach. What level of fame and, you know, how notorious were you during your lifetime aside from just your own hometown? Because I know that you traveled a bit, right? Ah, what an interesting comparison! Michael Jordan coaching middle school basketball—that would be quite something! Well, in my time, I was respected, especially among fellow musicians and within the courts where I worked. My skill as an organist was fairly well known, and I was often invited to examine organs or to perform in various cities like Dresden and Hamburg. So, I wasn’t completely obscure, but I wouldn’t say I had any sort of widespread fame outside of certain circles. I did travel a bit, yes, particularly early in my career when I sought out better positions or to learn from other musicians. But overall, my reputation was more local and regional. Nothing like the worldwide recognition you're speaking of today. Back then, I was really more of a craftsman than a celebrity. Ron Stauffer: Well, interestingly, you had an unusually wide range of musical endeavors, didn't you? I mean, you wrote cantatas, masses, oratorio, chamber music, and more in multiple languages, and lots of works for instruments that I don't think you even played. That was pretty ambitious for a lowly organ player, wasn't it? Ah, yes, I suppose it was a bit ambitious for a humble organist, wasn’t it? But you see, my life required versatility. In my various roles—whether in churches or courts—I was responsible for so many different kinds of music. For example, every Sunday required a new cantata for the church service, and that was just part of my job. I didn’t have the luxury of focusing on just one type of music. As for the instruments, you’re right—I didn’t play everything I wrote for. But as a composer, it was my duty to understand how they worked and what they were capable of. I studied them, learned from other musicians, and used my imagination. Sometimes you just have to trust your ear and your mind to go beyond what your hands can do. Writing in different forms and languages? Well, it came with the territory. When you work for the church, you write sacred masses; when you work for the courts, you compose chamber music for entertainment. My ambitions, I suppose, were just a reflection of the life I lived—meeting the needs of those I served. Ron Stauffer: That's interesting. Well, something that you may not know, because this didn't happen in your lifetime, but after you passed away, some of your works have taken on a whole new meaning and even a new essence. For example, I grew up listening to Andres Segovia, the Spanish guitar player, and he played your cello suites on the guitar, and that's a completely different instrument altogether. Did you ever see that coming, and would you have been okay with that, or were you insistent that your quote-unquote cello suites meant cello suites? Ah, now that is fascinating, Ron! Imagine my cello suites being played on the guitar—how extraordinary! In my time, the guitar wasn’t really an instrument I wrote for, so I certainly didn’t see that coming. But to answer your question, I think I would have been quite pleased by it. Music, you see, is a living art. It transforms, moves through time, and adapts to new contexts. I wasn’t so rigid that I would insist my cello suites remain only for the cello. In fact, many of my works were transcriptions themselves—my own and others'. I often rearranged pieces for different instruments depending on what was needed. The essence of the music, for me, was in the structure, the harmony, and the counterpoint. So, if someone found a new voice for my music, even on an instrument I didn’t write for, I think I would have smiled at the ingenuity. I would have been particularly curious to hear the guitar’s tone and expressiveness with those suites. If Segovia could bring out the soul of the music in a way that spoke to people, I would have embraced it. Ron Stauffer: Okay, here's an even crazier story. An English drug rock band called Procol Harum in the 1960s took one of your melodic lines and turned it into a song called A Whiter Shade of Pale, which became an unbelievable super smash hit, and I think it sold over 10 million records worldwide. What would you make of that? And did you ever imagine just how far your musical babies would stray from the nest?Ach du meine Güte, Ron! Now that is something I could never have imagined! A rock band, you say? And they took one of my melodies and turned it into a hit? I must say, that’s a kind of musical evolution I could never have foreseen. Ten million records? That’s more than I could have counted in my lifetime! I think I would have been quite intrigued by this. Music, as I said before, is alive, and it moves in directions we can’t predict. The idea that something I composed could inspire a completely different genre—that’s proof of music’s enduring power. I always believed that good melodies and harmonies could resonate deeply with people, but to see them resurface centuries later in rock music? That’s incredible. I can’t say I envisioned my musical children straying this far from the nest, but I think I would take it as a sign that they’ve grown wings and taken on a life of their own. If people are moved by it, whether in the quiet of a church or under the electric lights of a concert hall, it’s all part of music’s journey through time. A Whiter Shade of Pale, huh? I may not know what a “rock band” sounds like, but it seems my music found its way into something timeless after all! Ron Stauffer: Well, those musicians certainly got rich off of your music, so speaking of that, did you get rich in your lifetime? How wealthy were you, or were you poor? Well, let me
