Hellfire and Brimstone

Last night I was given a ticket to an orchestral performance at the largest Protestant church in Bonn. Mostly in Europe people tend to visit the grand, ornate, elaborately crafted Catholic cathedrals, but the Kreuzkirche was far more familiar to me given the churches in my youth. Though it was certainly less ostentatious, the building was still designed in the style of many churches in this region. The ceiling was high and domed, providing a large, open space. It is clear the architects knew how to evoke the lofty and rapturous feelings of worship. Plus, since music can be a powerful tool in that endeavor, it helps that such designs also tend to have great acoustics.

The downside of this is that from my limited experiences all German churches are just incredibly drafty during the winter. Though I was surrounded by people plus wearing a sweater and a scarf, I had to put my winter coat back on after the first piece and still felt near hypothermia by the end of the performance. I suppose that is the key to the title of the post, because I figured though the design of the church felt familiar, most of those in my youth had hellfire, brimstone and central heat. From what I know about the Protestant message in Germany, they are less likely to warm you up by getting you riled up from the pulpit, and since it is disrespectful to wear a winter hat, I just wonder how you stay warm during winter services. I imagine the design makes the relatively cool summer services quite a relief during a hot day, but man, it was cold.

Despite my near metabolic shutdown, the concert itself featured an Oboe Concerto by Richard Strauss, a Violin Concerto by Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy and a Symphony by Arnold Mendelssohn, who actually was the music director at the Kreuzkirche for about 3 years. The performances were good and the music rather moving.

The Arnold Mendelssohn piece moved between light, happy melodies on the strings and horns and dark, deep percussive moments. I wish my German had improved more than it has, because then perhaps I could read the program in more detail to know the true story behind the piece. However, I could only imagine it referred to love somehow. Love for anything or anyone tends to take such turns.

Sadly, I must confess despite the beauty of Strauss' Oboe piece, somehow I still imagine a duck whenever I hear an oboe solo due to some Peter and the Wolf programming as a child. Moving past that though, I did gain a new respect for the mournful, sombre timbre the oboe is capable of generating. It seemed to be a piece about loss, or at least that is how I took it.

Though the violin concerto was impressively technical and the soloist was certainly good, the instrument did not blow me away like other violin performances have unfortunately. The violin always astounds me because when played by a virtuoso, it can take on several harmonious voices at once. So, though I did enjoy the lively piece, I suppose I expected more from his violin, but that says more about my expectations than his abilities really.