The final days of the Princeton in Leipzig program were some of the most chaotic I’ve experienced in a long time. Between slipping and twisting my knee, speaking broken German with paramedics, hydroplaning in an Uber, scrambling for a last-minute ICE train after my flight was cancelled, and then sprinting through the airport only to find the gate closed four minutes early due to an extended security screening—I’m not entirely sure how I made it home in one piece. These are not the memories I plan to hold onto, but they do underscore how unpredictable and disorienting travel (and life) can be, especially at the end of something so meaningful.

Looking back on the final recital, however, I’m filled with gratitude. I performed three pieces: the Allemande from Bach’s Third Suite, transcribed in G Major for double bass; a trio in C Major with Maurice on cello and Vito on viola; and The Art of the Fugue No. 5, alongside Charlotte on violin, Vito on viola, and Maurice again on cello. Each ensemble offered something distinct, but the trio in particular surprised me with how naturally the instruments blended. There was a warm, grounded texture to the sound that felt effortless and deeply rewarding to be part of.

The Allemande was, without question, the most personally challenging. Not because of the notes on the page — although Bach leaves no room for hesitation — but because solo playing still brings a kind of internal resistance I’m learning to overcome. Ensemble work comes more naturally to me; there’s safety and energy in collaboration. Playing alone is a different conversation. In preparation, I did everything I could to stay grounded: hydration, breathing exercises, walking, and even a slightly excessive number of bananas. I also tried pushups as a way to flush the nerves, but strangely it was effective.

The performance as a whole was deeply fulfilling. I particularly appreciated hearing the gamba sonata performed by James on bassoon. It inspired me to explore the piece myself, especially given the bass’s lineage in the viol family. It’s a reminder of how fluid and adaptable early music is — and how much more there is to explore.
The recital venue offered beautiful acoustics, which required restraint. I’m not often in spaces of that size, and learning how to let the sound breathe rather than over-project was a valuable lesson in itself. Performing Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring to close the evening was a perfect conclusion — a piece I’ve long loved, and one that felt amazing.

Our group came together the following evening for a celebratory dinner — a chance to unwind, reflect, and connect beyond the rehearsal room. We shared stories, laughed about our rehearsal blunders, and exchanged photos. It’s rare to feel so connected to a group in such a short amount of time, but this experience brought us together in a truly meaningful way. I leave with not just stronger musicianship, but with friendships I genuinely value.
This program has reaffirmed many things for me. That Bach’s music is inexhaustible in its beauty and challenge. I am grateful to the Princeton German Department, the music faculty, and every musician and mentor I encountered in Leipzig. And I hope to be back soon!