ABSTRACT

At the end of the afternoon, tired but content with the impressions and observations of the day, I sat down on the terrace in front of a small café. The sun was shining abundantly, putting smiles on the faces of people walking by. I ordered a cup of tea to go along with the house special, which swiftly appeared on the table: Bach Torte. Looking up from the generous piece of mocha flavoured cake, across the street I saw a giant statue of the legendary composer, placed next to a church of impressive proportions. I found myself in Leipzig, Germany, a city known for its classical music heritage. Bach is its most well-known (former) inhabitant, having lived in the city for many years and composing his most famous works for the boys’ choir of the Thomaskirche, the church that he is buried in and that I was currently looking at.