The enduring appeal of Johann Sebastian Bach’s music, even 341 years after his birth, is undeniable. He consistently dominates classical charts and concert stages, particularly during the Easter season. His “life-giving zombie music,” as it’s been called, is a ubiquitous presence, with countless performances of works like his St Matthew Passion taking place in major cities worldwide, from London to Leipzig.
On official and streaming classical charts, Bach reigns supreme, with interpretations such as Yunchan Lim’s Goldberg Variations and Raphaël Pichon’s St John Passion regularly topping lists. What makes his music so indestructible? Recent critical commentary offers vivid descriptions, like “Bach the zombie” and “Bach the meat-grinder,” phrases attributed to violinist James Ehnes and critic Clive Paget.
Paget used the term “meat-grinding” to describe the opening chorus of the St John Passion, an intense expression of raw human emotion, particularly potent in Pichon’s dramatic recording. This powerful chorus exemplifies Bach’s genius, with its obsessive, churning string figurations and the “wailing agonies” of woodwind dissonances. Before the chorus voices enter, they do so not with singing, but almost screaming their demands for Christ to witness his passion in both its “glory” and “humiliation.”
Spanning eight minutes, this profound opening movement sculpts a “gigantic cross shape” in musical time: relentless, surging rhythms form the horizontal planes, while searing harmonies provide implacable verticality. This dramatic intensity is just the beginning of the Passion story’s profound darkness.