Imago Dei

“To me the chaconne is one of the most beautiful, incredible compositions. On one staff, and for a small instrument, this man pours out a world full of the most profound thoughts and powerful emotion.” – Johannes Brahms

I have often been asked who my favorite composer is. I never know how to answer. Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Stravinsky, Ives, Shostakovich, Bartok—every one of them is my favorite. One thing is clear; each one of the aforementioned composers has composed music that transcends barriers. One prime example would be the Chaconne from Bach’s Partita in D minor for violin solo.

The earliest mention of the chaconne (as a dance) occurs in a long poem by Mateo Rosas de Oquendo written in 1598. The dance most likely originated in the Americas. At the turn of the 17^th century, two types of dances were in vogue: the danza, a formal dance utilizing gliding and bending motions; and the baile, a wild, sensual, and uninhibited dance that used the entire body. The wildest and most sensual baile was the chacona. On April 8, 1615, Spain passed a law banning the chacona from theatres.

While none of the chaconnes in the common repertoire—from Bach and Purcell to Corigliano and Salonen—do not boast such sensual attributes, all stem from the same five hundred year old source.

On a bleak day in 1720, Johann Sebastian Bach returned from a trip to Carlsbad only to find his 35 year old wife, Maria Barbara, buried in the ground. All research seems to indicate that Bach, during his grief, composed the magnificent Chaconne. The outer d minor sections seem to express dark and brooding emotions, while the middle section, in D major, expresses sunny optimism. Within the piece, Bach quotes the chorales “Vom Himmel Hoch da Komm’ Ich Her” (“From Heav’n Above I Come To Earth”) and “Christ Lag in Todesbanden” (“Christ Lay in the Bonds of Death”). The three sections, three statements of the main “theme”, the pervasive three note groupings, the three-beat bar all seem to reference the trinity (a practice entirely Bachian). The Chaconne is in essence 64 variations on a basic chord progression. Bach, intrigued with numerology, knew the numerical value of the letters of his name. B=2, A=1, C=3, and H=8. Added together, Bach’s name equals 14. The Chaconne ought to have 256 bars—64 variations on a four bar sequence. Instead Bach inserts an extra measure in the 64^th variation, thereby making the Chaconne 257 measures in length. When you take the digits in 257 and add them together (2+5+7) the sum is 14—Bach’s musical signature. Bach, in many other pieces used the number 14 as his musical signature. Interestingly, I could go on with the complexities of the work. However, I will refrain.

Each one of us is created in the image of God. We each create everyday. Some are able to create with greater complexity than others. Bach’s creativity seems to be boundless. Bach, like all of us, was created in the image of God. I then began contemplating the awesome God that created me. A God of such extraordinary power, wisdom, holiness, love, knowledge, etc…

Do I reflect my Creator? I have pondered this question for quite a while. Do I really honestly reflect the radiance of His glory to the world in which I live? I don’t think I can honestly answer yes. My heart echoes David:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart!

Try me and know my thoughts!

And see if there be any grievous way in me,

and lead me in the way everlasting.”