Interview by Antonin Scherrer
Omar Porras: It all began at the Museum of the Reformation, with the printing of a passage from the Song of Songs on the Gutenberg press, and Gabriel de Montmollin watching me take over the space, text in hand... The idea of a performance quickly became clear. As did, for me, the idea of bringing music to the stage, performed by Cédric Pescia. Our shared understanding, our common love for the text: it all made sense.
Cédric Pescia: Things fell into place very quickly, as always with Omar. The choice of texts was inspired by the incredible diversity of this great book, which I read from cover to cover a few years ago in André Chouraqui’s beautiful translation. And the choice of Bach, with whom I’ve had an intense and profound relationship since adolescence. I feel as though he’s becoming ever more important to me, that I understand him more and more each day. It’s incredible music, an act of faith in every page, every note, whether sacred or secular. When you play this music, you have to be aware of this, of this belief that inhabits Bach, even if you don’t personally share it. His music cannot be grasped without this essential dimension of message, of the desire to unite, to carry human emotions far and wide.
Omar Porras: We tend to view the Bible too narrowly as a matter of religion alone. However, reading the Old Testament is like embarking on an extraordinary journey, filled with fantastic stories and mysteries. The New Testament itself recounts the epic tale of a mythological hero, the foundation of Christianity: the adventures of Jesus, an archetypal figure in our Western culture. These two worlds, which we strive to bring together here by attempting to unfold their full diversity—poetic, narrative, dramatic—resonate with memories of my Colombian childhood: my years as an altar boy, listening with fascination to the readings during ceremonies, the ritual, the spectacular splendor typical of the festivals of this deeply religious Latin America, bordering on exaggeration in its passion. As sacristan, I had to prepare the ceremonies and was allowed to handle the books, the chalices, and the cassocks; I also went to buy the communion wafers from the nuns. This relationship to the sacred—more than to religion itself—left a profound mark on me, in my mind as well as in my body.
Cédric Pescia: Omar’s Catholic Bogotá—colorful, “praised”—is obviously a far cry from Bach’s Lutheran Leipzig. But through my choice of music, I tried to show that the cantor of St. Thomas was also capable of passionate expression, of using Baroque flourishes in his compositions. Some pieces, particularly for organ, were clearly intended to impress the congregation and are as awe-inspiring as the verses of the Book of Revelation! They perfectly capture the myriad nuances found in the Bible, from the flashes of the Last Judgment to the poetic accents of the Song of Songs. And then, as was the custom in Bach’s time, I don’t hesitate to draw from the repertoire outside the keyboard to stay as close as possible to what the text evokes for me, as I do, for example, with the famous aria from the Suite in D.