Yes, believe it or not, even Bach, one of the greatest composers of all, wasn't truly recognised in his lifetime.
Here's the lowdown.
Even though he came from a well known musical family, he was an orphan by the age of ten. He lived with his older brothers until he began a musical apprenticeship at fifteen.
Bach was the youngest of his family.
His career mostly consisted of playing the organ in churches and even in court. He built up a solid reputation as a talented composer, though was often fired as he didn't behave very well, according to his employers.
It wasn't until he was almost forty that he began publishing his compositions and making them available. (In later life, he re-wrote and enhanced some of these earlier works).
While he did write mostly for the keyboard, he did compose some concertos for the violin, harpsichord and orchestra. His work was religious in nature and very much of its time. The ethereal power behind the work was deliberate. It was meant to be an experience.
He was elected court composer by the Elector of Saxony and King of Poland when he was almost fifty, yet his difficult reputation followed him. Ah those artistic types.
He died aged 65 in 1750.
It wasn't until the next century that biographies of Bach began appearing as his compositions grew in popularity. As time passed, his stature grew, while those of his time, fell away. Something we've come to see again and again in this series.
The Wender Organ he played in Arnstadt, still in great condition.
St Matthew's Passion is one of his more famous works. You can listen to it here, if you've got a spare three hours.
I recently had a poem accepted into an anthology with the theme of Wild. It will be published in a book. I will appear alongside of Dominic Kirwan, whose poetry is unique. A very talented person. Aside from this, I stopped submitting my poetry quite a while ago. I reached about fifty credits (publications) and thought that will do for now. It's very time consuming and there are other more important things to concentrate on. Besides, it's 95% rejection and after awhile, it just isn't that good for the soul. Yet it's always great to be published, so I'm pretty happy with this one. I'll link to it when it's up for you poetry buffs (wherever you are.) Here's a little one for you. Foggy
(not rose coloured) glasses
make our choices
many to rationalise
rise to fractured histories
than a little regret.
Not so honest
What do you feel when you read that poem? Try reading it again.