Bach has been, and will always be, part of my life. It is something like a personal oxygen. I grew up in a musical household, in which Bach was always being played; my mother would be practising preludes and fugues, and my father would be practising some of the music for solo violin. As a child, I would fumble through the Bach pieces in the elementary piano books. At school, in the choir, I sang in the B minor Mass, with that huge striding Sanctus sending us out into the evening, shouting its theme. As a student, I met others with the …
