It’s hard to believe this is the last blog post I’ll write about Leipzig. After weeks of exploring, listening, performing, and reflecting, our final concert at the Alte Börse felt like both a closing chapter and a quiet celebration. The room itself was intimate, had golden lighting, and an extremely reflective atmosphere. I had the chance to perform two choir pieces and one trio with other Princeton students, and while I’ve performed many times before, this felt different. It wasn’t about perfection. It was about sharing something we had all built together.
There was something deeply personal about this final performance. Maybe it was the fact that we had all seen each other grow in just a few weeks. We started off as tourists who took the wrong trams to German instruction, and became extremely proficient in all things Leipzig. Maybe it was the music itself. Standing in the Alte Börse, I felt a strange mix of calm and fullness, like I was exactly where I needed to be. And as soon as it ended, I wanted to do it all over again.
Saying goodbye to the city hasn’t been easy. Every walk to seminar, every church bell, every lingering note in a concert feels sharper now, more defined. I’ll miss the sound of trams blending into Bach, the sounds of musicians of all kinds playing music everywhere I walk. I’ll miss turning corners and finding music spilling out of a doorway. I’ll miss the feeling of being constantly surrounded by centuries of musical history, and by people who care deeply about it.
One of my favorite memories actually came at a moment when I wasn’t expecting anything musical at all. I was grabbing lunch at the train station, half-focused and hungry, when I noticed a small children’s choir singing in the open space as part of Bachfest. A few people were sitting and listening. Most were passing through, busy with their day. But I stopped for a while. The simplicity of it, with young voices echoing in a public space, Bach in the background of an ordinary afternoon, felt quietly profound. It wasn’t a major performance, but it captured something essential. That experience was so Leipzig.
I’m also grateful. For the spaces that held our voices. For the concerts that reminded me to listen. And for the friendships that turned performances into memories. I came to Leipzig looking forward to the music and beautiful language, but I leave remembering the people, the spaces, and the unexpected magic in between.
Bis bald, Leipzig.
