Thunder and Trembling Vladimir Horowitz’s Battle with Performance Anxiety (Born October 1, 1903)

by Georg Predota

Vladimir Horowitz, the titan of 20th-century pianists, could silence a hall with a single chord, his fingers conjuring tempests from the keys. Yet, for all his mastery, he was a prisoner of performance anxiety, this crippling dread that drove him to the edge of collapse and forced four dramatic exits from the concert stage.

Vladimir Horowitz

“To tell you the truth, sometimes I’m frightened of myself,” he confessed in 1975, revealing the paradox of a genius who ruled Carnegie Hall but trembled at its threshold. This torment, born of revolution-scarred youth and relentless perfectionism, didn’t just haunt Horowitz.

Performance anxiety actually shaped his volcanic artistry, forging a legacy where fear and brilliance were inseparable. To celebrate his birthday on 1 October, let us honour the legacy of a pianist who transformed terror into transcendence.   

Paradox of Genius and Fear

Born on 1 October 1903 in the shadowed streets of Berdichev, near Kyiv in what was then the Russian Empire, Horowitz emerged as a prodigy whose fingers danced across the piano with a ferocity that could coax thunder from ivory. His mother, Sophie, a conservatory-trained pianist, recognised his gift early, and by age 12, he was enrolled at the Kyiv Conservatory under masters like Felix Blumenfeld, a student of Tchaikovsky himself.

Felix Blumenfeld

Horowitz’s early career was a blaze of triumphs. Debuts in Leningrad and Kharkov in 1920, a European tour that stunned audiences in Berlin and Paris, and a New York recital in 1928 that prompted The New York Times critic Olin Downes to hail him as displaying “most if not all the traits of a great interpreter.”

Yet, beneath this virtuosic facade lurked a profound vulnerability. Stage fright, that spectral adversary, would hound him for decades. That insidious cocktail of adrenaline and dread afflicted Horowitz like a recurring fever. It manifested not as mere butterflies but as a paralysing panic.   

Rituals of Dread

As biographer Glenn Plaskin recounts in Horowitz: A Biography, the pianist often arrived at venues in the eleventh hour, demanding silence from all around him, his anxiety so acute that aides sometimes had to physically nudge him toward the stage.

“Such was his stage fright that he often had to be pushed physically onto the stage,” notes music historian Robert Greenberg, underscoring how this neurotic ritual became as much a part of Horowitz’s lore as his octave-spanning arpeggios.

Incredibly, this man who commanded sold-out halls and fees that made him the highest-paid artist of the 1940s chronically doubted his own adequacy, whispering to himself that he was “inferior and inadequate” even as ovat

Murmurs of Assurance

The roots of Horowitz’s affliction might well be traced back to his tumultuous youth.

The 1917 Russian Revolution ravaged his family, as his father’s electrical engineering firm was seized, and relatives were imprisoned or executed. By 1925, the family had fled to Paris, leaving Vladimir to perform ragtime in silent-film theatres for survival.

This upheaval instilled a deep-seated insecurity, compounded by his innate perfectionism. “His consistent need to be perfect… drove his stage fright in a big way,” observed a scholar, also noting that the young pianist’s early acclaim only amplified his fear of failure.

Horowitz himself hinted at this inner turmoil in rare interviews, though direct quotes on stage fright are elusive. Instead, he channelled it into mantras of reassurance. Before performances, he would murmur, “I know my pieces,” a self-soothing litany affirming his meticulous preparation as a bulwark against the void.   

A Vanishing Act

Vladimir Horowitz in 1931

This ritual, born of desperation, revealed a man wrestling not just with notes but with the terror of exposure. Horowitz’s first major retreat came in 1936, a seismic event that rippled through the music world. At the peak of his powers, fresh off collaborations with Toscanini and recordings that refined the Rachmaninoff concertos, he succumbed to “nervous exhaustion.”

Married since 1933 to Wanda Toscanini, daughter of the imperious conductor Arturo, Horowitz faced mounting pressures. The stormy union was marked by Wanda’s infidelities and Vladimir’s alleged homosexuality, with colitis twisting his gut.

Vladimir and Wanda Horowitz

He vanished from the stage for 13 months, retreating to Italy and then New York, where therapy and rest barely quelled the storm. Biographer Harold C. Schonberg, in Horowitz: His Life and Music, describes this period as one where “the heartbreaking destruction of his family combined with… professional frustrations to bring on the first of several breakdowns.”   

Electric Return and Enduring Shadows

Upon return in 1938, his playing was electric, but the fright lingered like a shadow. The post-World War II years amplified the torment. By 1953, after a separation from Wanda and rumours of institutionalisation, Horowitz hit rock bottom.

He underwent electroshock therapy for depression, a brutal intervention that left him catatonic at the piano. “For months, for years, he was incapable of performing in public,” recounts author Lea Singer in a 2021 interview about Horowitz’s hidden life.

The mere thoughts of the stage triggered panic attacks so severe that rumours started to fly that he could no longer touch the keys. This hiatus lasted 12 years, the longest of his four periods of retirement. During these silences, Horowitz turned to recordings, a much safer harbour where he could edit out imperfections.

A Phoenix Rises

Vladimir Horowitz in 1986

Yet, from these ashes rose phoenix-like comebacks, each a testament to resilience. The most mythic unfolded on 9 May 1965, at Carnegie Hall. Backstage, Horowitz paced like a caged tiger, his wife and daughter, Sonia, imploring him to move forward. When he finally emerged, the ovation was deafening.

His program, scarred on showpieces and heavy on Bach, Clementi and Mozart, unleashed a Horowitz reborn. His playing was introspective, crystalline, with rubato that breathed like wind through willows. Pianist André Watts captured the onstage atmosphere, stating, “Horowitz was like a demon barely under control.” (Read more about “Vladimir Horowitz’s Legendary 1965 Carnegie Hall Comeback Concert“.)

The eminent musicologist Charles Rosen elaborated further, dubbing performance anxiety “a divine ailment, a sacred madness. It’s a Promethean curse where the artist suffers to deliver the divine spark.”    

Imperfect Perfection

Horowitz transmuted performance anxiety into daring, as the fear of errors became the edge that sharpened his interpretations. As he explained in 1975, “I must tell you I take terrible risks. Because my playing is very clear, when I make a mistake, you hear it… Never be afraid to dare.”

Yet, Horowitz disdained mechanical perfection. “Perfection itself is imperfection,” he quipped, instead favouring “a little mistake here and there” to infuse music with human warmth.

Lea Singer described his offstage demeanour as a “shy penguin”, noting his 1986 Moscow bow tie, and grinning through “great sadness.” Pianist Oscar Levant, another anxiety-plagued musician, jested that Horowitz should advertise “for a limited number of cancellations.”   

Tears and Triumph

Vladimir Horowitz in 1986

Critics and peers dissected Horowitz’s affliction with awe and empathy. In The Guardian, a 2015 reflection on overcoming anxiety likened stage fright to “an untamed horse. We have to try to harness it, let it out, pull it back,” an apt metaphor for Horowitz’s volatile command.

Even in later years, as recordings supplanted tours, his influence endured. His late-career resurgences, in 1978 in Cleveland after a nine-year absence, and the 1986 historic Moscow return amid Gorbachev’s glasnost, were defiant rebuttals to his demons.

As he plays Schumann’s Träumerei with tears in his eyes, an encore that bridges across 61 years of exile, he once declared, “without false modesty, I feel that, when I’m on the stage, I’m the king, the boss of the situation.” Yet, as Classical Music magazine reflected in 2025, his “success… came at a heavy price, with electroshock scars and pill bottles as collateral.”  

Chasing the Sublime

Vladimir Horowitz died on 5 November 1989, in New York, felled by a heart attack at the age of 86. His legacy, etched in 25 Grammys and the Presidential Medal of Freedom, transcends the man. Performance anxiety for Horowitz was no mere malady but the crucible of his art.

It forced retirements that honed his depth, risks that electrified his touch, and returns that redefined triumph. In an era when beta-blockers offered chemical relief, as proposed in a 1979 Times article, Horowitz reminds us that the raw edge of fear can give birth to the sublime.

As Joan Acocella, in her 2015 The New Yorker essay on performance anxiety, wrote, “Horowitz played from the other side of the score, looking back.” And maybe that’s how we should gaze at him as well. A demon tamed, a king enthroned, forever chasing the music behind the notes.

John Rutter - Celebrating 80 Years of Choral Legacy

by Georg Predota  October 3rd, 2025

On the occasion of John Rutter’s 80th birthday on 24 September 2025, choral communities across the globe join in a formal celebration of his extraordinary contributions to the world of music. His compositions have enriched the repertoire of choirs worldwide, gracing sacred spaces, concert halls, and festivals with their profound beauty and emotional depth.

John Rutter

Rutter’s artistry has inspired generations of singers, conductors, and audiences, fostering a shared sense of unity and reverence through the power of choral music. As we reflect on this milestone, it is fitting to explore Rutter’s life, his artistic contributions, and the enduring impact of his work 

Igniting a Lifelong Passion

John Rutter’s early life was steeped in the sounds of London’s vibrant cultural landscape. Growing up above the Globe pub on Marylebone Road, the son of an industrial chemist, he discovered music’s enchanting world through an out-of-tune upright piano.

His formal education at Highgate School, where he sang as a chorister alongside future luminaries like John Tavener, ignited a passion for composition. At just 18, Rutter penned his “Shepherd’s Pipe Carol,” a piece that captured the ethereal innocence of pastoral imagery and foreshadowed his affinity for Christmas carols.

This early work, published during his undergraduate years at Clare College, Cambridge, marked the beginning of a prolific output that blended English choral traditions with innovative textures. At Cambridge, Rutter not only studied music but also served as Director of Music at Clare College Chapel from 1975 to 1979, elevating the choir to an international standing.  

Crafting Choral Classics

John Rutter

John Rutter played a pivotal role in the Carols of Choir series, particularly from 1970 onward. As co-editor alongside Sir David Willcocks, Rutter contributed original works and arrangements, which blended traditional folk elements with vibrant rhythms and luminous harmonies.

Earning praise for their “joyful qualities” and “musical polish,” Rutter’s work on subsequent volumes further showcases his versatility. In fact, Willcocks called him “the most gifted composer of his generation.”

Rutter decided to leave Academia in 1979 to focus on composition. This decision was pivotal as it allowed him to establish the Cambridge Singers in 1981. This professional choir became his creative laboratory, recording sacred repertoire on his Collegium Records label and touring globally.   

Mourning and Majesty

Yet, Rutter’s path was not without adversity as he battled health problems from 1985 to 1992, a period that curtailed commissions and forced a re-evaluation of his creative process. Emerging from this trial, Rutter’s music gained deeper emotional layers, as evident in works like the Requiem, which balances mourning with consolation.

Rutter’s sacred choral music is rooted in a harmonic language that favours modal shifts and lush tertian sonorities to facilitate emotional accessibility. Demanding vocal precision, these works blend simplicity and sophistication, appealing to both amateur and professional ensembles alike.

John Rutter’s influence extends to secular realms as well. His “This is the Day,” composed for the wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton, fuses psalmic joy with contemporary resonance. We also find orchestral works, such as the Suite Antique, stimulated by Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, and two Beatles-themed piano concertos inspired by the American songbook tradition. 

Uniting Voices

John Rutter with the Cambridge Singers

John Rutter’s contributions to choral music have left an enduring mark on the global choral landscape, blending accessibility with harmonic sophistication to create works that resonate across sacred and secular contexts.

Rutter’s ability to infuse traditional texts with modern sensibilities, often through luminous tonal palettes and subtle rhythmic vitality, has been praised as “a gift for melody and an instinctive understanding of the voice.”

As we celebrate his 80th birthday, we honour John Rutter’s enduring legacy as a defining figure in contemporary choral music. His lasting impact stems from his unique ability to craft music that is both emotionally immediate and technically refined. In other words, Rutter’s music unites singers and listeners in shared emotional experiences.

Violin Concerto of Renewed Passion Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky and Yosif Kotek II

by Georg Predota

  

Story Behind Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major Op.35

Tchaikovsky © torrentsland.com

Following his separation from his wife Antonina Miliukova, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) hastily fled to the town of Clarens. This small and peaceful Swiss resort village on the shores of Lake Geneva not only allowed him to mentally recover from a feeble attempt at suicide, it also saw the reunion with his former student and lover, the violinist Yosif Kotek, who also gave inspirations and advice to Tchaikovsky’s famous violin concerto. Barely a year had past since the lovers had unceremoniously separated, however, their passion had recently been rekindled.

Travelling with his brother Modest, Tchaikovsky met Kotek in Vienna in November 1877, and the merry threesome happily undertook some scenic travels throughout Europe. Still in the midst of a personal identity crisis that reflected the dialectical irony of homosexuality itself—how to reconcile the need for passive submission towards his male friends that was simultaneously contradicted by competitive aggression towards them—Tchaikovsky eventually summoned Kotek from Berlin to join him in Switzerland. Amongst a good deal of comforting, music making and other pleasantries, their renewed association quickly gave Tchaikovsky the idea of composing a violin concerto.

Violin score of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto © violinsheetmusic.org

Yosif Kotek, ever so willing, provided his technical expertise and hands-on experience and within a month, the concerto was finished. Writing to his brother Anatoly, the composer rejoiced, “how lovingly [Kotek] busies himself with my concerto! It goes without saying that I would have been able to do nothing without him. He plays it marvellously!” Initially, Tchaikovsky wanted to dedicate the new violin composition to Kotek but feared that it would somehow draw attention to the true nature of his relationship with the violinist. By eventually dedicating the work to Leopold Auer—surely also a gesture of passive aggression towards his philandering lover—Tchaikovsky caused a permanent rift in the relationship.

Kotek hastily departed, and Tchaikovsky continued to complain about Kotek’s “unbelievable womanizing”. Kotek never forgave Tchaikovsky for changing the dedication, and when the composer approached him with a peace offering—formally asking him to publicly perform their concerto—he flatly refused. Although they would occasionally meet, love had clearly turned into contempt, and they found each other’s company “more unpleasant than pleasant,” and more “tiresome than attractive”. As it happens, contempt turned into pity when Kotek contracted tuberculosis and was sent to Switzerland for treatment. Tchaikovsky rushed to the bedside of his estranged and ailing lover, and dispensed various spiritual and physical comforts for six days. Kotek died, aged 29, and Tchaikovsky was charged with informing Kotek’s parents of their son’s untimely passing.

If You Like Bach, You Might Like Glenn Gould

 by Georg Predota

Johann Sebastian Bach, the towering figure of Baroque music, is renowned for his intricate counterpoint, emotional depth, and technical brilliance. His compositions have inspired countless musicians and listeners for centuries.

Johann Sebastian Bach

Among the interpreters of Bach’s keyboard music, few have left as indelible a mark as the Canadian pianist Glenn Gould. Known for his idiosyncratic and highly personal approach to Bach’s compositions, Gould’s performances offer a fresh lens through which to experience the composer’s genius.

Glenn Gould at the piano

Glenn Gould (1932–1982) was a singular voice in the interpretation of Bach, a pianist of extraordinary talent and polarising eccentricity. His approach to Bach was shaped by a combination of technical brilliance, intellectual rigour, and a willingness to challenge conventional performance practices. 

A Fusion of Precision and Passion

Bach’s music is both intellectually stimulating and deeply emotive, balancing mathematical precision with profound spirituality. For the performer, they demand technical precision and interpretive insight, offering the artist a vast canvas for expression.

Bach’s mastery of counterpoint creates a dense, almost hypnotic interplay of lines that challenges both listener and performers. Structural complexity, emotional depth, and interpretive flexibility made Bach’s music a perfect vehicle for a performer like Glenn Gould, whose unorthodox approach brought a completely new dimension to these works.

Unlike most pianists of his time, who adhered to Romantic traditions of lush, expressive playing, Gould favoured clarity, precision, and a detached yet highly expressive style. His performances often emphasised the architectural logic of Bach’s music while infusing it with a distinctly modern sensibility.

A Revolutionary Blend

Glenn Gould

Gould’s 1955 recording of the Goldberg Variations is perhaps the most iconic example of his approach. At the age of 22, Gould burst onto the international scene with his debut album for Columbia Records, which remains one of the most celebrated recordings of the work. In contrast to the stately, measured interpretations of earlier performers, Gould’s set is brisk, rhythmically incisive, and strikingly clear.

His tempos, particularly in the faster variations, are lightning-fast, showcasing his virtuosic control and ability to articulate each voice in Bach’s polyphony with crystalline precision. For instance, in Variation 7, a gigue-like movement, Gould’s buoyant rhythm and crisp articulation highlight the dance-like character, making the music feel alive and spontaneous.

Yet, Gould’s interpretation is not merely about speed or clarity. He brings a profound sense of individuality to the work, emphasising contrasts between variations and creating a narrative arc that feels both cohesive and unpredictable.

Eccentric Brilliance

Glenn Gould’s chair

Gould does engage in deliberate pacing and provides subtle dynamic shading that evokes a meditative intensity that resonates with Bach’s spiritual core. This ability to balance intellectual clarity with emotional expressiveness makes Gould’s Goldberg Variations a must-hear for Bach lovers, as it captures the composer’s multifaceted genius in a uniquely compelling way.

Gould’s interpretations are not without controversy, and this is part of what makes him so fascinating for Bach enthusiasts. His unconventional choices, such as extreme tempos, unconventional phrasing, and even his habit of humming along while playing, can be polarising.

Yet, these quirks often enhance the listener’s experience by offering a fresh perspective on familiar works by adding a layer of intimacy. While some find it distracting, others see it as a window into Gould’s immersion in the music and as a sign of his deep connection to Bach’s world. By bridging the intellectual and the emotional, Gould’s eccentricities can feel like an authentic expression of that duality.

Reimagining Bach

Glenn Gould

Gould’s engagement with Bach extended beyond his performances. As a writer, broadcaster, and thinker, he championed Bach’s music in ways that resonate with fans of the composer. In his essays and radio documentaries, he explored themes of solitude and creativity, drawing parallels to Bach’s introspective genius. His advocacy for Bach’s music as a timeless, universal language helped cement the composer’s place in the modern repertoire.

Gould’s choice to perform Bach on the modern piano reflects his belief in the music’s adaptability. By using the piano’s dynamic capabilities to bring out dramatic contrasts, Gould’s interpretation bridges historical and modern sensibilities.

Universal Genius

Gould’s interpretations are not just journeys into the composer’s world but also an encounter with a performer whose passion and originality mirror Bach’s own genius. His performances offer a gateway to experiencing the qualities of Bach’s music in a fresh and unforgettable way.

For Bach fans, Gould’s interpretations are not just performances. They are revelations that uncover the multifaceted beauty of Bach’s music. His unapologetic individuality makes his performances a natural extension of Bach’s own innovative spirit, and he invites listeners to rediscover the music through the lens of a singular artist.

50 Years Schubertiade

by Georg Predota

Nestled in the tranquil Vorarlberg region of Austria, where rolling hills and Alpine meadows create a stunning backdrop, the Schubertiade festival shines as a pinnacle of musical artistry, honouring the enduring genius of Franz Schubert’s compositions.

For half a century, the Schubertiade has enchanted music lovers with its celebration of Franz Schubert’s timeless compositions, establishing itself as a cherished cultural tradition. Since its founding in 1976, the Schubertiade has united exceptional musicians and passionate audiences in intimate, evocative venues, fostering a deep connection to Schubert’s music.

While the Schubertiade 2025 continues to enchant audiences with its celebration of Schubert’s music, preparations for the 50th anniversary in 2026 are already in motion, promising a historic milestone. To mark this significant occasion, the festival will initially recreate the program of the inaugural 1976 Schubertiade, honouring its origins with a poignant tribute to Schubert’s timeless artistry.   

Honouring Origins
The 1976 Schubertiade Revived for a Historic 50th Anniversary

Hermann Prey

The inaugural Schubertiade in 1976 was a modest yet profound affair, featuring Hermann Prey alongside pianist Leonard Hokanson. Their performance set the tone for the festival’s ethos of authenticity, intimacy, and a focus on Schubert’s music, particularly his lieder and his chamber works. The decision to recreate this program for the 2026 opening concert is a nod to the festival’s humble beginnings and a testament to its enduring mission to keep Schubert’s spirit alive.

To be sure, recreating the 1976 programme is more than a nostalgic gesture; it is a deliberate act of cultural preservation. The Schubertiade has always balanced tradition with innovation, introducing new artists and expanding its repertoire while remaining anchored in Schubert’s music. By revisiting the inaugural programme, the festival honours Gerd Nachbauer’s and Hermann Prey’s vision of creating a space where Schubert’s music could thrive in an intimate, authentic setting.

The recreation of the 1976 Schubertiade programme is akin to unearthing a musical time capsule, carefully preserved when the festival first came to life under Hermann Prey’s visionary guidance. As such, the 2026 recreation is not merely a performance but a bridge across time, inviting today’s audiences to experience the same emotional intensity and intimate connection that captivated listeners back in 1976.  

Eternal Melodies
Lieder in the Limelight

It comes as no surprise that every composition performed at the inaugural Schubertiade in Hohenems, held from May 8 to 16, 1976, in the historic Rittersaal of Hohenems Palace, was crafted by Franz Schubert. This exclusive focus on Schubert’s music, with a particular spotlight on his lieder, defined the festival’s initial programming and set a precedent for its enduring identity. It established a foundation of authenticity and reverence by laying the groundwork for a legacy that continues to thrive half a century later.

Of the nine concerts that comprised the 1976 festival, five were devoted to Schubert’s lieder, highlighting the emotive power and poetic depth of individual songs such as “Wandrers Nachtlied” and “Sehnsucht,” alongside the profound song cycles Die schöne Müllerin, Winterreise, and Schwanengesang. These performances, led by Prey’s expressive baritone and Leonard Hokanson’s sensitive pianism, captured the essence of Schubert’s ability to weave narrative and emotion into music that speaks to the human heart.

Then as now, Schubert’s lieder remain the heart and soul of the Schubertiade, their emotional depth, poetic sensitivity, and timeless melodies resonating with audiences across generations. This emphasis on lieder not only defined the festival’s inaugural spirit but continues to anchor its mission, ensuring that Schubert’s songs remain a vibrant, living tradition in the intimate setting of Hohenems and Schwarzenberg.   

Immortal Voices
Chamber Works That Transcend Eras

Gerd Nachbauer

The various lieder recitals at the inaugural Schubertiade in Hohenems were complemented by an exquisite selection of Franz Schubert’s chamber music masterpieces, including “Death and the Maiden” (String Quartet No. 14 in D Minor, D. 810), the Fantasy in F Minor for Piano Four Hands (D. 940), the Octet in F Major, (D. 803), and the Trout Quintet (Piano Quintet in A Major, D. 667). Collectively, these works leave an indelible impression of Schubert’s genius, blending emotional universality with innovative craftsmanship.

The Death and the Maiden quartet, rooted in Schubert’s earlier lied, juxtaposes brooding intensity with moments of lyrical tenderness and captures the human confrontation with mortality in a timeless and transcendent manner. The Octet in F Major, with its expansive six-movement structure, radiates warmth and virtuosity, its conversational interplay among eight instruments showcasing Schubert’s ambition to rival Beethoven’s grandeur.

The Fantasy for piano 4 hands is a pinnacle of Schubert’s late style, blending lyric intimacy with structural ambition in a continuous stream of communal spirit. Traversing human emotions from introspection to exuberant joy, the harmonic richness and melodic inventiveness create a defining sense of dialogue and unity.

The Trout Quintet, named for its fourth movement’s variations on Schubert’s lied, radiates youthful exuberance and melodic charm. Its unconventional instrumentation (violin, viola, cello, double bass, and piano), offering a fresh and luminous texture, is a playful yet sophisticated depiction of nature and human joy. These works have clearly withstood the test of time and are as relevant and vibrant today as they were 50 years ago.  

Echoes of Devotion
Spiritual Masterpieces

Schubertiade Hohenems

The central concert at the first Schubertiade of 1976 featured selections from Schubert’s sacred compositions. From selected settings of the Salve Regina to Antiphonal Choruses for Palm Sunday and the “German Mass,” these works showcased Schubert’s gift for melodic richness and harmonic sophistication, blending Viennese choral traditions with his distinctive emotional expressiveness.

While these sacred works were at the centre of cultural life 50 years ago, the devotional tone, rooted in liturgical settings, has not transferred to the predominantly secular culture of today. Performance demands and a lacking practical context for Schubert’s sacred music have contributed to its diminished presence today.

Since his masses and other sacred compositions require larger choral and orchestral forces, often tied to specific religious occasions, Schubert’s sacred output has sadly been relegated to isolated performances. The opportunity to hear these sacred works revived at the Schubertiade 2026 within a secular setting promises to be a captivating highlight, allowing audiences to reconnect with their spiritual depth and lyrical beauty.

A Timeless Celebration

Moritz von Schwind: Schubertiade 1868

The Schubertiade 2026, marking its 50th anniversary, stands as a testament to the enduring power of Franz Schubert’s music, with its opening in Hohenems recreating the 1976 programme to honour the festival’s origins. By reviving the lieder-dominated program alongside timeless chamber works and festive sacred music, the festival opens a musical time capsule, reconnecting audiences with the intimate and authentic spirit that Hermann Prey and Gerd Nachbauer envisioned.

These works, with their profound emotional depth, innovative structures, and universal themes, remain as vibrant today as they sounded in 1976. This golden anniversary celebration not only preserves the Schubertiade’s legacy but also reaffirms Schubert’s music as the heart and soul of the festival, bridging past and present in a luminous celebration of artistry that continues to captivate and inspire across generations.

The Divine Artistry of Johann Sebastian Bach 10 of His Greatest Choruses

by Georg Predota

Johann Sebastian Bach’s music stands as a towering monument in Western music. While countless composers have written exceptional choral music, Bach’s greatest choruses intertwine technical perfection and profound emotional resonance to create moments of transcendent beauty.

Portrait of J.S. Bach

Christmas Oratorio   

Bach’s choruses are not merely perfect technical exercises but living expressions of human devotion, of joy and sorrow, and of awe. Every chorus pulses with intricate counterpoint, vibrant harmonies, and a transcendent ability to connect with something much greater.

To commemorate Bach’s death on 28 July 1750, let us celebrate his life by featuring 10 of his greatest choruses, starting with the opening chorus from the Christmas Oratorio. It bursts forth with an exultant energy that feels like the heavens themselves are rejoicing.

The vibrant timpani rolls and blazing trumpets create a majestic, almost overwhelming wave of sound, as if heralding the arrival of divine light. The choir’s jubilant voices weave through Bach’s intricate counterpoint, each line soaring with unbridled joy and reverence, inviting the listener into a sacred celebration that transcends time.

It’s a moment of awe, where the grandeur of music and spiritual depth converge to proclaim eternal hope.

Reformation Glory

A postcard featuring Johann Sebastian Bach

Composed for Reformation Day, “A might fortress is our God” is one of Bach’s most powerful and intricately constructed choral works. The cantata draws on Martin Luther’s iconic hymn, a cornerstone of the Lutheran tradition that celebrates God’s unyielding strength and protection against spiritual and worldly adversaries.

The opening chorus burst forth with an electrifying energy. The choir enters with a commanding declaration before breaking into intricate counterpoint. This creates a sense of unity and strength, with the unshakable foundation of the hymn melody surrounded by layers of complexity symbolising the multifaceted nature of faith.

The emotional resonance of this chorus lies in its ability to balance grandeur with intimacy. While the intensity of the music evokes the image of a cosmic battle, Bach also projects moments of exquisite tenderness, creating a fleeting sense of warmth and reassurance. This chorus is a spiritual journey with all of humanity united in a final, triumphant cadence.

Plea for Peace   

The “Dona nobis pacem” chorus, which closes Johann Sebastian Bach’s monumental Mass in B Minor, is a profound and awe-inspiring culmination of one of the greatest works in Western music. It emerges as a fervent plea for peace, its majestic simplicity and emotional resonance encapsulating an unbelievable spiritual and musical journey.

Bach employs a double fugue that weaves together two distinct themes. A broad and soaring melody is combined with a more intricate and rhythmic idea, making the tapestry of sound feel both universal and deeply personal.

This fugue structure, with its intricate interplay of voices, showcases Bach’s unparalleled technical skill. Yet, the technical complexity never overshadows the heartfelt supplication of the text. The repeated phrase “Grant us peace” is delivered with a rhythmic insistence that actually feels like a heartbeat, grounding the music in a deeply human appeal.

Jubilant Proclamation

J.S. Bach featured on a stamp design

The opening chorus of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cantata BWV 147, Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben (Heart and Mouth and Deed and Life), is a radiant and jubilant proclamation of faith, composed in 1723 during Bach’s first year in Leipzig. The chorus bursts forth with an infectious vitality that perfectly embodies the cantata’s theme of wholehearted devotion.

Bach’s masterful interplay of voices and instruments creates a soundscape that feels both majestic and intimate, inviting the listener into a profound expression of spiritual commitment. Structurally, the chorus is a choral fantasia, built around a chorale tune placed in the soprano as long and sustained notes.

The other voices engage in intricate, imitative counterpoint, weaving a web of motivic interplay that reflects the text’s call to every aspect of life to testify to faith. The emotional resonance of the chorus lies in its balance of exuberance and sincerity. The text’s emphasis on holistic devotion is mirrored in the music’s all-encompassing energy, with each vocal and instrumental line contributing to a unified expression of faith.

Splendour and Sorrow    

Composed in 1724 for Good Friday services in Leipzig, the opening chorus of Johann Sebastian Bach’s St. John Passion “Lord our Ruler,” erupts with tempestuous energy. One of Bach’s most dramatic and emotionally charged works, its swirling orchestral textures and urgent vocal lines beautifully capture the profound reverence of the Passion narrative.

Bach’s music masterfully balances awe for Christ’s divine majesty with an undercurrent of sorrow for the impending crucifixion, creating a soundscape that is both regal and deeply human. The orchestra, with its driving strings, plaintive oboes, and pulsing continuo, sets a restless, almost turbulent tone, while the choir’s powerful entrance amplifies the sense of cosmic significance, drawing the listener into the sacred drama.

Bach constructs this chorus as a complex, quasi-fugal edifice, with the voices entering in waves of imitative counterpoint that mirror the text’s invocation of Christ’s eternal glory. He uses dark and expressive minor tonalities with chromatic inflexions and dissonant suspensions to heighten the emotional impact. It all culminates in a radiant cadence, however, as Bach assures us of divine triumph.

Triumphant Awakening  

The Triumphant Awakening of Bach’s opening chorus from the cantata Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme, is a radiant and exhilarating call to spiritual vigilance. Inspired by the parable of the wise virgins awaiting the bridegroom, the chorus bursts forth with a sense of urgency and joy.

The majestic orchestral introduction is driven by a lively dotted rhythm, and the soaring melodic lines evoke a divine summons. The orchestra, featuring strings, oboes, and a prominent horn, creates a festive, almost ceremonial atmosphere, with syncopated rhythms and fanfare-like figures that pulse with expectancy.

Here, as elsewhere, Bach seamlessly blends grandeur and intimacy, with the cosmic significance of Christ’s arrival balanced by lyrical moments that evoke personal devotion. As voices and instruments unite in a triumphant close, the music becomes a stirring summons to spiritual awakening, its exuberance and craftsmanship leaving listeners uplifted by Bach’s vision of divine anticipation.

Defiant Joy

Bach’s statue in Leipzig

The opening chorus of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cantata BWV 4, Christ Lay in Death’s Bonds, is a gripping and jubilant proclamation of Christ’s victory over death. Based on the Easter hymn by Martin Luther, the stark yet radiant orchestration establishes a tone of both solemnity and exultation.

The text celebrates the Resurrection, and Bach’s music captures this duality with a masterful blend of archaic severity and vibrant optimism. Luther’s hymn melody is woven through the texture in long, sustained notes, serving as an anchor of faith amidst the intricate polyphony of the other voices.

The minor tonality lends a sombre, almost austere quality, reflecting the gravity of Christ’s sacrifice, but Bach infuses it with bright, major-key inflexions at key moments, particularly when the text symbolises the light of resurrection. It is a cosmic affirmation of life over death.

Celestial Joy   

The opening chorus of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cantata BWV 1, How Brightly Shines the Morning Star is a jubilant celebration of Christ, who brings divine light to humanity. This chorus bursts forth with an effervescent energy, its orchestral introduction featuring a sparkling interplay that evokes the shimmering brilliance of a starlit dawn.

The text, based on Philipp Nicolai’s 1599 hymn, exudes joy and hope, and Bach’s music amplifies this with a festive, almost dance-like vitality. The choir’s proclamation radiates warmth and devotion, drawing us into a moment of spiritual awe and exultation.

As in his other choral fantasias, Bach presents the hymn melody in long and sustained notes in the soprano, while the lower voice weaves intricate counterpoint that pulses with energy and delight. The festive scale of the music conveys the cosmic significance, while tender vocal interplay evokes personal devotion. It is a radiant testament to Bach’s ability to translate theological joy into sounds of transcendent beauty.

Heavenly Exultation  

The opening chorus of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cantata BWV 191, Gloria in excelsis Deo, is a resplendent and jubilant outburst of praise. This chorus radiates with a festive brilliance, its orchestral texture ablaze with trumpets, timpani, flutes, oboes, and strings that create a sonic tapestry of divine celebration.

Bach captures the text drawn from the Latin Mass with an irrepressible energy that feels like a heavenly fanfare. From the opening measures, the orchestra establishes a mood of unrestrained joy, while the entrance of the choir as a unifying and exultant force draws us into a moment of awe-inspired worship.

This masterful choral fugue showcases Bach’s unparalleled skill in blending technical complexity with emotional accessibility. The interplay of voices and instruments is seamless, and the balance between grandeur and heartfelt devotion culminates in a radiant and triumphant universal hymn of praise. What an unbelievable vision of divine glory!

Divine Innocence    

The opening chorus of Johann Sebastian Bach’s St. Matthew Passion, is a monumental and deeply moving introduction to one of the most profound works in Western music. Set in the minor key, this chorus immediately immerses the listener in the Passion’s dramatic and emotional landscape, blending heart-wrenching sorrow with awe-inspiring grandeur.

The orchestral introduction, with its pulsating, syncopated rhythms and mournful string lines, evokes the weight of impending tragedy, with the entrance of the choir imploring the daughters of Zion to join in lamentation.

It’s pure genius, as Bach actually employs two choirs engaging in a dialogic interplay, their voices weaving together in a dense, imitative texture that reflects the communal mourning of Christ’s sacrifice. The emotional power lies in Bach’s ability to balance raw sorrow with transcendent majesty, setting the stage for the Passions’ profound exploration of sacrifice and salvation.

Bonus Chorus

It’s impossible to design a playlist of Bach’s 10 greatest Choruses without the serene devotion of “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” Part of Cantata BWV 147, it is one of Bach’s most beloved and enduring works as it exquisitely balances simplicity with sophistication.

The choir’s straightforward presentation of the chorale melody, with its clear, hymn-like phrasing, anchors the movement in a direct expression of faith, while the orchestra’s continuous, lilting triplet figures add a layer of delicate complexity, symbolising the constant presence of divine grace.

Johann Sebastian Bach’s 10 greatest choruses stand as towering testaments to his unparalleled genius, blending technical virtuosity with profound emotional and spiritual resonance. His mastery of counterpoint, innovative orchestration, and expressive harmonies creates a timeless dialogue between faith and artistry, affirming Bach as one of history’s greatest musical architects.