About this blog:

My name is Barry, and I am a junior at the University of Redlands, studying Music Composition. Fall semester of 2011, I will be studying at the Conservatorium van Amsterdam in the Netherlands. This is the story of my adventure...

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Saturday, Dec. 17th. Day 111.

What an interesting day, again. As I am sure you will note by my last few entries, today was my lesson with Louis Andriessen, finally. I was very very nervous, I could hardly speak. Somehow I managed to pull myself together enough to get my scores printed, cd made, and ass to his house. Quite a nice house it was, despite all of the rather unfriendly steep stairs that I am coming to hate here in the Netherlands. Anyway, the first thing I did inside was receive some tea, as it was "tea time" in the Andriessen house. However, this tea had a little something extra. Apparently, according to the great Andriessen, a little dash of Disaronno is good for the heart on cold weather days or something like that. I knew it was going to be a good lesson when he said that. Only true masters drink hard liquor at 3pm, haha.
Ok anyway, we sat down and chatted for a bit about some jazz arranger that I should know, but only because Louis thought I said I play jazz trumpet, not jazz drumset. After correcting that (and he insisting that it was still worth-while to check out) the moment of truth arrived: "let me see your work". First we looked at Mondrianism, which was a tad awkward since Louis's own De Stijl was based on a text about Mondrian. Anyway, he liked it, I think (I still haven’t listened to the tape of the lesson, it was all such a haze in person). He said I mirrored Mondrian's style by leaving out certain things, which was a nice comment. Also he liked my handling of the low left hand material, saying so many composers somehow forget there is bass or something.
Then we listened to VII. It was quite painful, actually, to play that recording. In fact, that is what we discussed most about that piece. He really thought it was tragic how awful the performance was, and I think I agree. I guess having dedicated musicians that take the performance of new music seriously is something I have never had, so I didn't know it was missing. But it is a very important part music, I mean it is the realization of my mere dots on a page. I think he phrased it as having a musician work at your music enough to "steal it away from you, and make it theirs". While in English I am not sure anyone would have said that, it is a very nice way of putting it. "Performer, I want you to steal this music from me. Make it yours, but you have to take it from me first. Make some artistic decisions that make it your own. Invest in it." Nice nice nice.
Other than the performance, we talked about the painfully slow tempo, and how that in and of itself can create difficulties for practice and rehearsal, as well as conducting. Also rhythmically: to focus on rhythmic abnormality to that degree but so slow makes everything sound the same (which may be a good argument for its coherence, Idk haha). All in all, very practical things. I guess I heard that about Andriessen, that he isn't some composer dreamer with his head in the clouds, he really gets down and makes things work on a practical level. I like that.
And lastly was Linear Sketch, my most recent piano piece. I think I made a mistake by introducing it is a completed sketch (as opposed to an actual composition) that I had no interest in reviving. Anyway, he was quick to say that it was not a good practice to get into, throwing away pieces I was unhappy with or not finishing something I had started. I can see where he was going, again from a very practical stand-point. However, I am not sure if I will go back and make corrections, other than writing it in q= 80. I think I had a fun idea with making the tempo q=160, making the performer really think of a double tempo while performing syncopated half-rhythms. But anyway, he said I had some interesting ideas, which is all I could really ask for at this point, and from His perspective.
I think that is about it, other than the casual conversation around the table. He liked the wine, I mean he didn't open it, but he liked it. He also gave me a DVD of his recent piece Anais Nin, and signed it at my request (I am not sure if I understood him correctly, but I think he said he had never autographed anything before, or maybe that he had never signed this DVD before, I am not sure). He also said I could email his assistant for a full professional recording of his recent opera La Comedia, which won the Grawemeyer award.
Overall, I think I was most shocked at how utterly normal he was. I talked myself into a fit getting ready for this lesson, and it turns out he is more like a Dutch grandpa than a supernatural art-making machine. In fact, he did not resemble a crazy artist that writes this amazingly complex art music at all. I am kind of relieved by that actually, thinking of my own possibilities. All of my peers seem to be slightly crazy, or at least they would like to be viewed that way. But it seems the "older" professionals, and more mature teachers, are very practical about their approach to music. For Andriessen, at least in our lesson, he didn't speak much on "art", "expression", or any sort of cliche artistic nonsense. He treated it like he was making a wooden doll or something, something he had done many times, and I wanted to do. I could very well do it very differently from him, but he had some experiences he though would be helpful to share to make my own dolls better. I think that is a good analogy, maybe not. I am not sure. I guess I am back to being unsure about everything now because of this lesson, as I feared haha.
Ok, after the lesson, I went to a friends place for dinner. He made us some awesome home-made pasta with beet sauce (or something like that).. Anyway, it was fun. One last get together before we leave (even though we are having another one tonight, haha).
Once I came home, it must have been no later than 1130, I was just getting ready for bed, and I hear a knock on the door. It was my other roommate from Iran. He wanted to offer me some of his food, probably because I made a comment when coming in that it smelled good. We had a very nice, very long chat about Amsterdam, life, culture, marriage, school, work, money, geo-politics, and just about everything else you could imagine. I found it interesting that he regretting getting married, at least when he did, that he was very grateful for what the US did in Iraq and Afghanistan, and how it made Iran a safer and happier place. I would have thought that would be the opposite, and I find it ironic that making Iran happy was probably the last thing we actually wanted to accomplish while over there. Getting away from the political side, he liked my optimism about the future, and said that based on how I speak and what I post on facebook (very good metrics by which to measure a person, right?) that I really have a knack for econ and I should give that a try. I have nothing to lose, and I will be kicking myself all the way if I dont try, and I could very well spend the rest of my life learning. I appreciate the thought and the confidence, but it just is not that easy. And I really am trying to not be melodramatic about it, because I know I have the tendency to be melodramatic, but money, sunk cost, my apartment, the job market, etc. I still need to do some investigating, so there is till some time to decide these things, but being in limbo kind of bothers me. Lastly, we talked about Iran. He politely said that I am welcome to visit his country and that he would be happy to show me around. We both thought it would be good for more Americans to really see what it is like in person rather than what CNN says, but I am not sure if I am that person, at least not yet.

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