What brought Bach to Lübeck?
Cantare Lettere
In this extraordinary performance, organ-choral variations intertwine with the singer’s powerful voice, which brings the text to life above the cantus firmus. The composer’s musical commentary unfolds before us – a living dialogue between word and sound, allowing the music’s deepest layers to be felt in a completely new and immediate way. The letters become melodies, the melodies become thoughts – and each note tells the story the composer wove into his music.
But there’s more: the organ score is "unlocked" and reimagined for an ensemble, where each voice stands independently, yet intimately connected. The listener is free to drift from one voice to another, letting the music guide them to whichever speaks most profoundly. What emerges is a rich tapestry, where every moment invites fresh perspectives on the work – a space where both music and text resonate in their fullest, most intimate form.
Music: Georg Philipp Telemann, Dieterich Buxtehude, Lüneburger Orgeltabulatur, Johann Ruhnau, Johann Sebastian Bach, Friedrich Zachow
Bach in Lübeck:
In the late autumn of 1705, a young man sets off on a journey that is more than just a walk – it is a quest. Johann Sebastian Bach, not yet twenty, leaves behind his modest post in Arnstadt and heads north, travelling 400 kilometers on foot to the proud, sea-kissed Hanseatic city of Lübeck. There awaits a master of sound: Dieterich Buxtehude, the great organist. Bach had asked for three weeks’ leave – but something happened. He stayed four months.
What did he hear, what did he experience in this city that made him lose track of time? Was it the breath of the organ, the golden glow of the Abendmusiken, the baroque dance between structure and freedom? – We do not know for certain – but we are determined to find out. And to bring Lübeck’s musical world at the dawn of the 18th century vividly back to life. Yes, it is a bold endeavor: to lift this music – so deeply entwined with the organ, almost sacred in its setting – into the realm of chamber music. But this is not a loss. It is a shift in perspective.
When the works of Buxtehude or Franz Tunder are heard in more intimate instrumentation, nothing is taken away – rather, something is revealed. The reverent mist that often veils this music begins to clear. It is as if we are peering into the fine inner workings of a baroque timepiece – every line, every fugue, every breath becomes tangible.
What emerges is a dialogue: between past and present, between grandeur and intimacy, between composition and imagination.
And if one listens closely, one might even hear young Bach – in awe, attentive, absorbing – lingering in the spaces between the notes.
At the same time, Bach's study trip has become our study trip into the music of his time; in his eagerness and ambition to learn, we have also found a motto.
Music: Franz Tunder, Peter Hasse the Elder, Dieterich Buxtehude, Nathanael Schnittelbach, Johann Sebastian Bach, Georg Böhm
IN:Spiration
For people in the 21st century, the word idyll conjures images of almost otherworldly beauty – vast lakescapes, majestic mountain ranges, intricately designed gardens, or murmuring brooks. It evokes a sense of home, of longing, of a place beyond the everyday that wraps us in a soothing harmony. But if we dig a little deeper, we encounter the word’s ancient Greek roots: εἰδύλλιον – a small image, an impression, an idea. Reduced further: εἶδος – the form, the essence, the vision. The idyll, then, begins not outside, but within – in our perception, our imagination, our dreams.
The Baroque – that opulent, multilayered age of sound – finds itself reflected in today’s art in many forms. We want to make this richness accessible, to a broad audience, in a way that speaks to the senses. By placing music in dialogue with visual art, we create a symbiosis that seduces both ear and eye – supported by thoughtfully crafted image and sound recordings.
Our aim is to inspire reflection and to invite today’s generation into a deeper, perhaps even playful, engagement with “old” music (Early Music). Because in truth, music is never historical – it breathes, it questions, it seeks. The questions and themes that moved artists of the Baroque era are still very much alive today. In the encounter between past and present, a space emerges where time begins to blur – and what once seemed distant suddenly feels vividly close.
Music: Heinrich Ignaz Biber, Johann Heinrich Schmelzer, Georg Arnold, Georg Friedrich Händel, John Dowland, Anton Bruckner
No era speaks in such vivid tones of the soul's unrest and longing for stillness as the Baroque. Musicians and poets of that time did not shy away from emotional extremes – they embraced them, mirrored them, gave them form and voice. Restlessness and calm are not opposites here, but dance partners in a complex choreography of feeling. And the world gave them Stoff genug: plagues and wars, fervent hopes and bitter disappointments followed one another like the changing masks of a theatre. Peace? A fragile dream. Security? A fleeting guest. And yet – the world did not end.
What happened instead was astonishing: culture stepped into the chaos and held its ground. No, more than that – it flourished. It found strength in fragility, order in dissonance, and light in the shadow. Music became conversation, consolation, resistance – and above all: presence.
Nearly four centuries later, when history once again stirs the same winds – with wars in Europe, pandemics, and a sense of instability worthy of the Baroque – we might find solace in this echo. We are not the first to be shaken. Not the first to ask: what now?
And we are not the first to answer with art. The music of that time speaks to us still – not as a relic, but as a companion. It tells us: The storm will not silence the song. And the heart, though troubled, can still be moved – and even soothed – by the certainty that beauty has always known how to survive.
Music: Heinrich Ignaz Biber, Georg Arnold, Girolamo Frescobaldi, Johann Sebastian Bach, Georg Friedrich Telemann, Heinrich Schütz
