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Johann Sebastian Bach was born on this day in 1685 in Eisenach, Germany but by the Regency period, his music was mostly considered hopelessly old-fashioned and pedantic, except by scholars and professional musicians. Even the music of his highly successful son Johann Christian Bach, former music teacher to Queen Charlotte, had died in poverty in 1782 in London, was out of favor with popular taste. It wasn’t until 1829, after a century of silence, that the St. Matthew Passion was revived and performed by the young Felix Mendelssohn. There’s a fascinating account of how it came about here.

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There is so much material available on Bach online–here are just a couple of places you can search: jsbach.org and baroquemusic.org. There are many, many recordings of his music, ranging from brilliant to poor, and, as happens with a great artist, some just plain wacko. His music ranges from the gorgeously tuneful to the highly cerebral. If you can, search out a performance, preferably one that’s HIP (historically informed performance). If you’re in the Washington DC area, there’s a performance of the great B Minor Mass on April 28.

Occasionally when you read about Bach you find glimpses of the human being behind the legend. Here’s Bach complaining about his income (which he did quite a lot):

My present post brings in about 700 thalers, and when there are a few more funerals than ordinairement, the perquisites (tips) increase proportionately; but when the air is wholesome, on the contrary, they diminish, this last year my ordinaire perquisites for burials declined by more than 100 thalers.

He lived in an era when musicians were regarded as servants, often required to wear livery. He was able to give his sons the university education he lacked, ensuring that they would be further up the social scale, and indeed two of them served in royal courts–JC in London and CPE (Carl Philipp Emmanuel) in Sweden and Germany. He never left Germany and although he expressed the wish to meet Handel, the meeting never took place.

He was a geek who was interested in taking apart and reworking pipe organs, and there’s some evidence that he knew of the new pianos in production toward the end of his life. Certainly his sons JC and CPE were proponents of this new instrument.

But it’s the way he worked that I find fascinating–the reworking, rewriting, rearranging that he did all his life. His output was astonishing. About 250 of his Cantatas remain–he turned out a cantata a week at one period of his life. Originally there were twice that many. He wrote possibly five large scale works based on the gospels, and only those based on Matthew and John survive.

So happy birthday, Bach, and thanks.

Do you like Bach? What’s your favorite music?

Posted in Music | 2 Replies

I’ve been enjoying my research into India during the Regency for Wolfe’s story (Wolfe of the Ternion in The Marriage Bargain). The story will begin in India, assuming Warner’s approval of my next idea, but will mostly take place in England.

I’ve discovered some interesting things about the English in India. In the early years of the East India Company it was not uncommon for the English company men to adopt a native lifestyle, native dress, taking Indian wives. Such men were tolerated in the early years and not much was made about them, but later, closer to our time period, adopting native habits was beginning to be frowned upon or looked upon with suspicion. Typically, by the Victorian age, it was not tolerated at all, given the certain belief that the British were superior in all ways.


I’m reading White Mughals: Love and Betrayal in Eighteenth Century India by William Dalrymple, which tells the story of James Achilles Kirkpatrick, a Colonel and an Ambassador, who married Khairunnissa, the daughter of an Indian noble family. Kirkpatrick converted to Islam to marry her and—according to a web article—spied for the Nizam against the British. The marriage was a happy but brief one, lasting only four years. The couple produced two children who were sent to England. Shortly after, Kirkpatrick unexpectedly died. It was 1805. Their mother never saw them again. She was soon seduced by Kirkpatrick’s assistant and kept as his mistress until she died a few years later at age 27.

At the time of Kirkpatrick’s marriage, one of the British who expressed concern over Kirkpatrick’s allegiance to Britain was Colonel Arthur Wellesley, in India after vanquishing the Tipu Sultan.

In the book Original Letters from India by Eliza Fay there are interesting details about life in India, but also a great amount of detail about her travel to India. Across the Suez, her caravan was attacked. And later, finally in India, the ship was boarded by the local Indian governor’s soldiers and Eliza, her husband, and the other passengers and crew were taken prisoner. She hid their watches and other small treasures in her hair.

Cheers,
Diane


Or rather, happy day after Bastille Day, since July 14 is the time to celebrate the day in 1789 when an angry mob stormed the prison and released scads of prisoners–well, 7 anyway. It was officially declared a national holiday on July 6, 1880. It’s a good excuse to spend your weekend drinking champagne, eating wonderfully unhygenic cheese, wearing berets, and listening to “La vie en rose” over and over (it’s MY excuse, anyway, though really every day is a good day for champagne and Piaf!)

To help you get your celebration in order, here are a few links to give you some party pointers and a few quotes to inspire you. 🙂

Fun party drinks (they mostly appear to be sticky-sweet concoctions made from things like cherry brandy, but I think the Marie Antoinette sounds sort of yummy…)

Fun party menus (though with drinks like the Montmartre, who needs food???)

Official stuff from the French Embassy

And more on how to celebrate

“France has more need of me than I have need of France” –Napoleon

“It’s true that the French have a certain obsession with sex, but it’s a particularly adult obsession. France is the thriftiest of all nations; to a Frenchman sex provides the most economical way to have fun. The French are a logical race.” –Anita Loos

“In America, only the successful writer is important; in France all writers are important; in England no writer is important; and in Australia you have to explain what a writer is” —
Geoffrey Cottrell

“I have tried to lift France out of the mud. But she will return to her errors and vomitings. I cannot prevent the French from being French.” –Charles de Gaulle

“Boy, those French. They have a different word for everything.” –Steve Martin

“Paris is always a good idea.” –Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina

“To err is human. To loaf is Parisian.” –Victor Hugo

“Frenchmen are like gunpowder, each by itself smutty and contemptible, but mass them together and they are terrible indeed!” –Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Vive la France!

Greetings, O Patrons of the Regency! It is I, once again — Bertram St. James, Exquisite as ever, here to grace you with my Presence.

In case there are Newcomers to this Blog, I shall merely say that not long ago I was a Cheerful and Decorative denizen of the year 1811, but by some accident of Natural (or Supernatural) Philosophy, found myself in your current age. So now I am trying to “Fit In” in this Velocitudinous Era.

Once I made the acquaintance of the Tele Vision, I spent much time studying it. But now that the Tele Vision has cruelly begun showing the same thing that it showed in February, I have turned to the Cinema instead.

Here, for your Delectation, are my opinions on some “Movies” that I have seen.

First, I saw a Movie about fashion. Modern Fashion is quite ugly. I do not understand it at all. However, I am glad that the characters in this Movie learned that Fashion is indeed quite important. (I could not bear to face an existence without it.) But what these characters fail to understand is that it is also important for Fashion to be Aesthetically Pleasing.

One thing puzzled me, though…the white-haired lady in this movie strongly reminds me of Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, who is Not my favorite person. Mrs. D-B has ghastly taste in handkerchiefs, and she once failed to invite me to a dinner-party I very much wished to attend. And her manner? I shudder just thinking of it.

But on to the next Movie! I confess I did not understand Super Man in the least. Is he an American God of some sort? If so, he really should put some clothes on. I grew quite embarrassed watching him. True, were he wrestling or boxing or swimming, he might be guilty merely of atrocious colour-choices — but he larks about in front of ladies and children and editors in his underthings — his Blue And Red underthings! I feel faint merely thinking about it.

One thing I will say in his favour, though — his hair is divine. Never a lock out of place. I do wish I had his hair. Mine never will hold a curl properly.

At length, I saw the Movie entitled “Pirates of the Something or Other, Dead Something Something.” (I detest long titles. Can never recall them. Shakespeare had that fault — all I can ever remember was that I once saw Kemble in “The History of King –” and then my memory fails me — some king or other — dashed if I can ever remember which one. There was a lot of killing, and far too much talking — does anyone know which play that was?)

Ahem. Where was I? Oh, yes. I saw that Pirate Movie thing. Very interesting. Some of the folk were wearing actual clothing. And hats. I like hats. Don’t know why you modern lot never wear them. Unless you are in a “Musical Video” wearing many chains.

Oh, goodness, what was I saying? Pirates. Right. Don’t understand why the Ladies find that Sparrow character attractive. He’s quite a mess. His hair is barbaric — don’t supposed he’s combed it since he was breeched. And his teeth! No, it’s utterly beyond me. If he were on my doorstep, I’d have my man send him on his way right enough. How can you ladies tolerate him? Please explain. I do wish I understood it.

That Turner fellow is slightly better. But not much. Handsome enough, I suppose, but far too dirty. And both of them need fencing lessons. Sloppy footwork, no style at all.

I would much appreciate it if any of you could solve for me any of the following conundrums :

Why do the ladies like these Turner and Sparrow characters?

Why don’t modern folk wear hats?

Why doesn’t Super Man put some clothes on?

Who is Super Man’s hairdresser? And is he taking new clients?

Until I learn the answers to these, I will remain, as always,

Yours Truly,

Bertie the Beau

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