wind, stop blowing, this is my last letter to you
One of the views from St. Michael’s Bridge in Ghent. You just kinda stand in the middle of the bridge and turn in a circle, and it’s amazing no matter which way you look. You can see all the major sites from right there-- castle, cathedrals, churches, bell tower, canals . . .
xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx
30 April 2011 (continued)
I’m in the midst of a long train journey, from Leiden to Brussels, and unhappily I’ve finished my only book So much for travelling light-- that’s one sacrifice I won’t be making again. Because of Queen’s Day in the Netherlands all stores were closed, and I couldn’t buy another book.
Which means I have nothing to keep myself occupied with except guidebooks and music-- both insufficient.
And, of course, this notebook and pencil.
Usually I’m too busy while travelling to do much reading-- too busy figuring out where I’m going and what I’m doing while I’m there. And then I have to learn about the history of the place, and study the language. But there was less of all that to do this time. All the places I was visiting were fairly small and easily walkable, and attractions were few and easy to get to. Nor did I have the money to go shopping (I also found myself uninterested in the idea). Most of what I needed to do was walk around and soak up the atmosphere, taking pictures along the way.
Which I did an abundance of. Ye gods I’m so very, very tired of walking. And even more sick of my hips aching, which is the more worrisome problem.
Of course the real star attraction of this trip, and indeed the reason I made the trip to begin with, was Sensei. And since I was able to spend a lot of time with him, it was more than worthwhile. Not only did I get to hear his concert, but I was able to eat with him a number of times, and we walked around Ghent and Leiden together. I had a really wonderful time.
Sensei’s concert was also really great. The concert was called “Beethoven, Kurahashi” for the simple reason that the program was three Beethoven piano sonatas (Sonata in E opus 109, Sonata in A sharp opus 11, Sonata in C opus 111), a solo piece played by Sensei (the Nesting of the Crane), and another piece that Sensei composed, a duet between piano and shakuhachi.
The piano player was from Amsterdam, a man named Ronald Brautigam. He was stocking and had a wild head of long-ish white hair-- “like he’s really Beethoven!” I said to Sensei, which made him laugh. I learned today that that pianist has been playing through all of Beethoven’s piano sonatas. At the last concert, he wanted to do something special. He had CDs from a bunch of solo artists, and one of them happened to be Sensei’s Paris CD. When Brautigam heard it, he wanted Sensei to come play in his concert. So he asked the concert organizer to contact Sensei and ask him to compose a piece they could play together.
Regarding the Beethoven parts of the concert, they were extremely excellent. Sensei was impressed as well, and had nothing but praise for the pianist. For my part, I was absolutely absorbed by the music, and paid strict attention for the entire time that he played. This is nothing short of miraculous since I usually find piano solo pieces incredibly dull.
In part my absorption could be attributed to the piano he played. According to Sensei it was a specially-made instrument. Rather than being a standard piano it was smaller-- the kind of piano Beethoven would have played (a pianoforte). It looked amazing, with bright honey-gold-brown wood that made stunning natural patterns like spreading ferns. It also had an individual voice and variable tone. One of my big complains about standard concert pianos is that they all sound the same, so it’s nearly impossible for musicians to express themselves and show their individuality.
Brautigam didn’t have that problem in the least, and his entire concert was both expressive and deeply moving.
For Sensei’s solo piece he played the Nesting of the Crane-- to my ears incredibly well, though I don’t know what he thought of it.
xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx
A picture from Sensei’s concert: Kurahashi Yodo and Ronald Brautigam, 28 April 2011, De Bijloke Muziekcentrum, Ghent
xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx
1 May 2011
I rarely understand a classical piece upon first hearing it. I need to listen to it a number of times before I can start to appreciate it. So even though I’ve heard the Nesting of the Crane at least twice before, I’m only just starting to feel like I comprehend it a bit. I don’t know if my being more familiar with the piece accounts for how it seems better every time I hear it, or if Sensei is becoming even better at playing it, but either way it was stunning. Lonely, delicate, and passionate at once, I could see in my mind an endless marsh of long yellow grass under a heavy grey sky, the spreading wings, the air waiting for that first powerful wingstroke, the bird’s lonely cry . . .
Sensei’s piece, the duet between shakuhachi and piano, was called ‘Father’s Words.’ Apparently the pianist asked him to compose the piece specially for the concert, and so that was its world premiere. “For most such pieces the world premiere is also the last time it’s played,” Sensei said ironically, laughing. He said the piece is in three parts: one based on the molody of Kyorei, one based on a Japanese lullaby, and one based on the music from the movie of Beauty and the Beast. “But not the new movie-- old movie. So maybe it is based on my memory of the melody from that movie.”
He also said that the reason for the title is that the piece is like a father’s words: “sometimes kind and gentle, sometimes stern.” I felt that it was a very lovely piece, deceptively simple, a converation between the shakuhachi and the piano. It seemed to me that the piano provided a foundation for the shakuhachi to build on: “like a cathedral,” I said, my mind full of churches after three days’ sightseeing in medieval towns. “A solid base, and the shakuhachi soars upwards above it. So it can be filled with light.”
xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx
A cup of chocolate in a Brugges cafe.