Martin on the moto: Buxtehude and Bach

Sunday morning. The Turkish kebab wasn't quite as delicious as it had originally seemed. I didn't sleep well and the taste lingered to the extent that I thought a good vomit would be necessary. It was a beautiful morning, though, and I retraced my steps west, across the bridge to Denmark then south towards the Rødby-Puttgarden ferry which would deposit me back in Germany. After only 30 mins riding I couldn't keep my eyes open and wanted to be sick so I pulled over. Fortunately, after a Coke Zero and 30 mins of sleep on a wooden picnic bench I felt great again and continued. The day really was glorious and I think the most moving sight of the whole trip was crossing another huge bridge (Farø bridge) and being surrounded by a brilliant blue from sea and sky alike, with a fizzing haze, really warm (over 30 degrees), and seeing a single, static seagull perched on the rail to the right of the road who, I fancied, was just as awestruck as I was by the beauty of the view: creation admiring creation - it's easy for humans to be impressed by beauty, but this bird, who was part of it, also seemed to be impressed!

After the ferry it was just another 50km or so to Lübeck. It was my first visit to the town, having heard from an early age about Buxtehude and Bach's 250 mile walk from Arnstadt to learn from him. There are three prominent churches in the town, the Jacobikirche, the Dom and the Marienkirche - but it is the latter that really dominates, not the cathedral, and this was Buxtehude's church. (Photos below, but they don't convey the vastness of the place very well.) Bach never had a post at a very large church - even St Thomas in Leipzig is quite compact - and so it's probably difficult to overestimate the huge influence listening to music in the Marienkirche must have had on him. I wonder if he ever regretted turning down the opportunity to marry Buxtehude's daughter and thereby become his successor in Lübeck. She was reputedly very ugly and I'm sure it made sense at the time, but what about years later when toiling away in a relative backwater?

Nothing remains of the organs from the time, largely due to the fire caused by the bombing in 1942 when the church was almost completely destroyed. The bells in the south tower are still lying broken in memoriam on the floor where they fell. And so the two organs are 1960s creations, and the famous astronomical clock is a modern replica. Buxtehude was apparently fascinated by astronomy and by the moon in particular, and his Passacaglia in D minor appears to be a testament to this. (4 times 7 repetitions: D minor, F major, A minor, D minor - the phases of the moon?) I was told that the new organist there wants to get rid of both of the organs and replace them with better copies. Although I didn't get to hear the current instruments, I'm sure that's a good idea given the period in which they were built.

I did, however, get to hear the organs in the Dom. There was a recital that afternoon given by a visiting Italian. He began on a one manual 18th century Italian organ in the chancel, then everyone moved into the nave to hear the remainder, played on the Marcussen. This is a 1970 instrument and it does have those high tinkly mixtures, but it is beautiful sounding nonetheless, mainly due to the rich, warm acoustic I think. Simon Preston has recorded Bach on it but I think it sounds better in the building than on CD - less brittle. There are plans to build a new organ at the West End, a copy of the Schnitger which once stood there. After the recital I introduced myself to the visiting Italian and the local organist and we all went out for a drink. I got some good tips on what to see in Thuringia and Lüneburg.

It was getting late and I had yet to find accommodation so I headed south on B roads around the east of Hamburg, towards Lüneberg, and found a quiet campsite by a lake about half way there, just south of Büchen.