“Counterpoint: A Memoir of Bach and Mourning” is Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Philip Kennicott’s first book. OperaGene readers be aware: there is little in it that refers to opera, though Mr. Kennicott writes feature pieces for opera magazines, in addition to his main job as Arts and Architecture critic for the Washington Post. I started reading him about the time that I started this blog and very early on wrote a report titled “Who is Philip Kennicott and Why You Should Care”. I had the same response reading “Counterpoint” that I once had reading an early novel of William Faulkner’s – one can see the genius at work here.
This memoir is about Mr. Kennicott’s relationhip with his mother, her life and death, and his responses to both; much of what he has done in his life has been in rebellion against his mother’s flawed character. The book also explains his relationship to music and how he turned his focus toward learning to play Johann Sebastian Bach’s Goldberg Variations to help deal with the loss of his mother, which became a self-illuminating exercise. It also gives those of us who are not trained in music insight into how a musician sees music, experiences music, and comes to really know a piece of music. The book is greatly enriched by Mr. Kennicott’s extensive knowledge of classical music and its history, which he uses to color and shed light on his journey.
Though revealing, this memoir of his mother includes many episodes painful to read. He remained a dutiful son to her death, even as he distanced himself from her emotionally. She wanted to be a professional violinist but gave up that goal. Mr. Kennicott at least considered a career as a pianist, but could not invest himself fully enough into it to succeed; I will let professional psychologists examine that one. The other plot line is Mr. Kennicott’s engagement with Bach’s music, the Goldberg Variations in particular; the reader will learn much about Mr. Bach and his variations. The weaving of the story lines is done fairly well. The filial relationship was engaging for me; however, when he brings his formidable vocabulary, prose, and insights to bear on the history and meaning of a piece of music, an instrument, a practice, or a composer is when “Counterpoint” becomes a page turner. For someone more interested in personal relationships, perhaps the story of his mother will prevail.
What makes Philip Kennicott’s prose compelling is not just his outstanding craftsmanship. His writing features a characteristic exemplary of genius, seeing connections and the meaningful in a set of circumstances. At one point he draws an inference about how an eighteenth-century piece should be played from efforts of a modern dance troupe to reconstruct how a dance from that time should be danced. His wide knowledge, including areas outside music, allows him to draw many such connections, and he finds much in music that speaks to life. When I listen to the music of great masters my brain often spontaneously raises the question how did they come up with that? That question frequently popped into my head when reading “Counterpoint”. (I’m not too sure about his explanation why his dog Nathan hates to listen to Bach, though it seems logical).
Now what will he do? One and done? One feels he had to get this story out of his system. Will another book follow? Composers accept commissions to compose new works; would an author? Mr. Kennicott may not have become a virtuoso performer, but he is most certainly a virtuoso writer. If I ever win a huge lottery prize, I may try to tempt him. There are so many stories I’d like him to write about. First, I’d suggest he write his version of Mr. Faulkner’s “Sanctuary”, which the great author, as I remember, claimed he wrote as a sensational story for the money and to increase his fame; that turned out pretty well. Mr. Kennicott deserves to be read more widely. In response to one of his mother’s outbursts, he made the decision to only give his attention to things that were serious and meaningful, and “Counterpoint” is a serious and meaningful book; it is doubtful he’d accept a commission for anything less. But just to increase his audience for his serious works, maybe something like a historical drama on how the bawdy life of Lorenzo Da Ponte, including some juicy sex scenes, shaped Mozart’s operas. For the record, Mr. Kennicott alludes several times to eroticism; It’s a start.
The Fan Experience: “Counterpoint: A Memoir of Bach and Mourning”, W. W. Horton and Company, was published in February 2020, and is available in hardback and audiobook formats from major booksellers for under $20. The book is 256 pages, including an Acknowledgements section where he indicates his siblings were supportive of him writing the book and a Notes section that includes references; no photos, except a jacket photo of the author.
You might wonder why it took me so long to read the first book of one of my favorite authors, especially given that I pre-ordered the book in January 2020. I am at a loss to explain this, except to say that the onslaught of the coronavirus pandemic took a toll on my mental outlook and motivation, and maybe I needed a better frame of mind to fully appreciate Mr. Kennicott’s book. Now. I am past having my second vaccine shot.