JS Bach’s Toccata and Fugue for organ, in D Minor
Nancy my wife and I, had been enjoying our spring driving tour through southern France and were now heading north to Bruges, Belgium, for Easter. We stopped briefly for lunch near the Belgian border and in conversation with a friendly waiter, mentioned our Bruges destination. He tactfully mentioned that he hoped we had reservations there. If not, he advised, it was unlikely that we would find a decent place to stay due to the crowds we would undoubtedly encounter. We had not.
On his suggestion, we tried calling a few places that were listed in our travel guide and discovered he was exactly right –everything was full, and had been for days, if not weeks.
Sensing our disappointment our waiter suggested that we try Tournai, Belgium instead, also a historic city with many medieval 12th Century, even earlier roots. The Roman Catholic Cathedral of Our Lady there had been built partly on 7th century foundation stones.
Taking his appreciated advice, we arrived in Tournai in short order and located a suitable small 3rd floor apartment overlooking the town square, and the said Cathedral.
Later that day (Saturday) we made the decision to attend the first service of Easter at 6:00 pm. We were surprised upon entering the building through the massive narthex doors, that the whole Nave of the church to our right was unlighted - a darkening and empty void, as far as we could see.
The chancel and choir to our left was brightly lit and tastefully flower-bedecked. A relatively small group of people had already arrived and taken seats. We followed suit, and settled in. The edifice was staggeringly huge, pillars soaring to the heights of the vaulted ceiling, while the vast empty nave virtually disappeared in the dimming evening light.
There were perhaps 75 people gathered “in the round” in the sanctuary, their evident awe like ours revealing many of them to be tourists. A temporary altar stood on a raised dais in front of us. The original altar and chancel was far to our left on top of many steps that extended out from side to side, nearly half a football field wide, so it seemed. I think we all had the sense that we were a small group of strangers gathered in an immense space. The various officiants soon entered, preceded by an enthusiastic thurifer distributing his pleasant incense. About 15 men and women, comprised the choir and we quickly realized that they were a highly competent group indeed, supporting the stately liturgy with impressive artistry.
Though with our college knowledge of French we missed a few of the points of the Easter Sermon, we could tell by the response afforded the young priest who didn’t that he was also accomplished in his profession, and appropriately intelligent, informal and witty. The service proceeded in the same uplifting manner throughout. We were grateful that we had followed our waiter’s advice.
The service having ended, we all headed for the Narthex exit, joining a small group of people already lingering there. We exchanged a few brief and rather formal Easter Greetings. On the right the candles and lights of the liturgy were being extinguished. On the left the now the completely dark Nave extended, seemingly forever into cavernous space.
Suddenly, with unexpected and stunning power, the Great Organ - to this point hidden, dark and silent - thundered forth with the opening phrases of Bach’s familiar Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. All conversation ceased as the departing attendees stopped in their tracks, smitten with surprise by the power and grace of the full-throated instrument. Open- mouthed, some with hands to cheeks, we stared half-smiling at each other; tears sparkled in some eyes; lumps were raised in many throats, including mine. The total effect was at once overpowering and uplifting. No one moved or spoke until the last notes of the organ reverberated into silence and darkness once again. Perfect strangers —clearly of many nations —then began quietly shaking hands and hugging one another.
It was for us and I’m certain for most everyone, a transcendent and unforgettable experience of the hope and joy of Easter, the power of music to uplift and bring people together, the genius of J.S. Bach, and the artistry of the hidden organist. In its serendipity this event remains for us the highpoint of that whole vacation, and perhaps, even of all our vacations.
One additional and poignant happening is that Nancy, 30 or so years later and now afflicted with significant dementia was sitting one day recently, silently in her chair as she often does. I was reading, but became aware she was trying to say something, which she rarely manages to do. Listening to her carefully I made out the words: “Big……people hugging…music, music everywhere”. Barely able to hold back my tears I said: “Honey, you’re talking about our Easter in Tournai!” “Yes, yes. That is!”, she said with the only smile I’d seen on her face in weeks.
(Toccata of course means “to touch” —and that, this whole event certainly - and profoundly - did!)