Largo in Lockdown

 I first learnt this Largo from Bach’s Sonata III two decades ago. It was the simple, accompanied version. Much like life back then: simple and social.

And then 2 months ago, as if something got into me, I suddenly decided to re-learn the piece. This time in its original solo - and much harder - version. How fitting and descriptive of lockdown, I thought.

A short time in, it sounded so terrible that I gave up and switched to something more ‘manageable’. The result is the Sarabande which I posted earlier . 

In my childhood music theory lessons, we learnt ‘Largo’ means ‘a very slow tempo’. I passed my theory exams alright, but looking at the flurry of my life from then til now, did I actually know what that definition meant? And did I deem this too hard because I never slowed down to sound out the chords, repeat one bar over and over or pay attention to the pauses?

It’s not completely finished. I have by no means perfected the piece or the pace. But I feel that in lockdown, I have indeed learnt Largo.

Unaccompanied Bach

There’s nothing that leaves a violinist feeling more naked and vulnerable than unaccompanied Bach. It was something only ever played to satisfy exam requirements or competition rules. It’s not that the pieces were bad, they just made you feel bad. So simple a score…so deceptively difficult. Every flaw in tuning or timing exposed. The double stops eroding what remains of your ego.

So you can imagine my mother’s surprise when I asked her to post me my 'J.S Bach Sonaten und Partiten'– that which I haven’t touched, or thought about, for nearly 2 decades. Yep, its strange times we live in these days.

I think if he heard my rendition, Bach might turn in his grave. My teacher might vomit. Lucky I have drugs in my clinic to deal with both situations. But through COVID-19 lockdown, this music has held my sanity. At first it was just for fun, something different (though, I suppose, anything is different from Russian Rock…). Yet the more I played the more I realised: these 17th Century works sorta speak into our reality today. Its almost as if Bach embodies lockdown:

Its unaccompanied.

Though solo, the work is complete.

It sobers and it stirs.

Its heavy with sorrow, laced with strength.

And did I mention its so damn difficult?

But if you’re still enough, there’s beauty that breaks through.

Lockdown has been all of the above – and more – for all of us:

A bunch of bad notes, but also beautiful moments.

I hope this is one of the latter for you

P.S If you make it to the end, listen out for my cat's contribution (still can't tell if its praise or protest...)