Missing sheet music

The boxes from Utrecht arrived on a daily basis. I anxiously opened the weather-beaten boxes that Robert had so meticulously packed in Holland.

For every shelf of books, we spent an hour on Facetime webcam video, Robert showing me each book, and I saying yes or no. Several weeks went by, we tried Facetiming morning and night, provided the Internet was working. We examined every shelf of four bookcases of books and sheet music.

I had spent 30 years collecting the sheet music, a pastime I rewarded myself. It was my prized possession, boxed and shipped from London to the Netherlands, and now facing a consequence of life or death. Whatever I wanted to keep would cost money to send or store. Whatever I was willing to let go faced exile in a music bookstore or library. Whatever could be sold fetched enough to pay the postage for what I wanted to have — now.

In the process of “letting go” I told myself that

1. It was time to let go.
2. I didn’t have time to practise piano, let alone sightread my collection.
3. I didn’t have any musician to play with.
4. I did not have access to the piano when I had the time to play.
5. Everything is on the Web nowadays, and I should be able to find whatever I want.

And so we threw away the photocopies and donated the library editions (I had paid for).

Shortly after I unpacked the boxes, I put my name on the first page of the music books I transferred to the piano classroom at the college where I teach. I made sure there was no gap between the books in the bottom shelf. It was tightly packed on  Saturday 22 September 2012.

The following Friday 28th September, I noticed a big gap. Who took my music without leaving a note? I put a sign up: “private collection of Anne Ku. Please do not take.” I patiently waited until the following Friday. The gap remained. I asked my colleagues if they’d help me. Did they have students who played at that level? Who would have taken my books?

Four bookcases reduced to two bookshelves was difficult. Discovering the books that went missing was painful.

Missing book: Grateful by John Bucchino, a present from my friend Tim in London

An album full of great arrangements to play at weddings and other occasions:

Dan Coates Complete Advanced Piano Solos

Ludivico Einaudi’s 3 albums all went missing. I had wanted to introduce his music to audiences on Maui.

Some day when I will have access to a piano to practise on and musicians to practise with and occasions to perform, I will regret not having that music. It’s not true that I can find them on the Web. Some piano solo arrangements, like Saint-Saen’s Carnival of Animals, are out of print. The photocopies were precious because I did not own the originals but wanted them. I took the time to photocopy them. The library copies that I had purchased at second-hand bookstores were sturdy and withstood the wear and tear of time. They could not be resold but should not be discarded.

Looking at the bare collection I have now just reminds me of all that I had to give up.

And those that went missing are the most painful to bear.

Sheet music for sale

Books on bookshelf for sale

When Robert told me a few weeks ago that he had packed my sheet music into 12 moving boxes, I mentally switched off. What he really meant was, “What are we going to do about your 12 boxes of sheet music?”

These books and scores were stacked in 3 huge Ikea book cases. Every time he mentioned my music, I fell silent. Already I had to let go of 400 CDs. sheet music was even more precious. I was not ready to decide.

To make space to photograph the house for sale, he declared that he’d move the boxes into the bicycle shed. Out of sight, out of mind.

I have nowhere to put those 12 boxes in Maui. I don’t want to pay for shipping. I simply don’t want to deal with it. Why not?

I had gone through my music in London before I decided to pack them into boxes and move them to the Netherlands in 2003 and 2004. Thereafter I continued my curious hobby of visiting music bookstores and music libraries to select sheet music to buy or copy. This unusual pastime of a person who loves to sightread started a long time ago. It accompanied my travels. Every time I visited a city that had a music book store, I would treat myself to buying sheet music.

Houston. New York. London. Amsterdam. Paris. Milan. Prague. Taipei.

I began by collecting music for piano solo. When I discovered the joy of piano duets with my piano teacher at Duke University, I started collecting music for 4-hand, 1 piano and then 4-hand, 2-piano. When I discovered the joy of chamber music, I started seeking scores for piano and other instruments whose players I befriended: clarinet, flute, bassoon, oboe, French horn, violin, viola, cello, harp, guitar, recorder. I bought the music so that I could play them by myself or with others.

Once at conservatory, I reasoned that it was important to learn about different instruments so that I could compose for them. While pursuing my teaching diploma in piano, I began collecting piano pedagogy, methods, techniques, and other related books. Collecting sheet music was no longer merely to feed my insatiable thirst for sightreading. It was necessary for teaching piano, my composition degree, and performance. I discovered the buzz of performing long before composing and teaching. In the Netherlands, the world of getting paid to perform with guitar, French horn, cello, and voice opened up — as did the need to expand my chamber music repertoire.

I knew that I was the most loyal client of second-hand sheet music stores. There were two I visited on a regular basis: one in London and the other in Amsterdam. I also knew that the owners regularly scanned the obituary column in local newspapers, looking for famous musicians that had died. They knew that they could get their sheet music for next to nothing. They’d get them in bulk and price each piece individually.

Second-hand sheet music are typically cheaper than newly printed scores. However, often second-hand sheet music is no longer in print and thus no longer available. As a graduate student in London, I’d go after second-hand sheet music. As a full-time magazine editor traveling between London and New York, I’d go for first-hand music books and collections. Over time, I built a sizable library of sheet music that included composers from A to Z.

With less than 2 weeks before Robert’s return to Boston, I finally gave in. “Let’s take a look at those boxes,” I said.

There were now 15 boxes stacked in the garden house bicycle shed.

The first box took half an hour to go through. The second box a little less than half an hour. By the 3rd box, we had gained momentum and criteria. Say good-bye to anything that can be found on the Internet, too hard to play, boring, old, falling apart, or duplicated. Keep the really interesting pieces that I can’t get anywhere else, including out-of-print editions and those I paid dearly for.

We are now half way through my music. I’m letting go of all chamber music except for piano & guitar duos that we’ve yet to try but want to. I’m parting with that collection of Dutch composers, piano duets, piano methodology and technique books, easy piano for students, and countless binders full of photocopied sheet music — which Robert said is illegal to sell.

Out of 15 boxes, I expect to extract enough for just 3 boxes to ship over.

That’s a lot of music to say good-bye to. A lot of music I won’t be playing. A lot of time spent choosing and acquiring the music.

I just hope what I don’t keep will find a home very soon.

FOR SALE:
400 CDs and sheet music for piano, duets, piano methods, piano technique, chamber music with piano, dictionaries, travel guidebooks, and more!!
Saturday 1 September 2012 from 1 to 4 pm
Keulsekade 25, 3531 JX Utrecht
or by appointment (REPLY BELOW)

Music of Henk Alkema

Henk Alkema was working on his last opera “Job” when I visited him last.

On Friday 22nd July 2011, I told him that I had gotten to know the music scene in Maui where I would return in mid-August. He showed me the flute concerto that had not been premiered. He showed me a waltz that he was sure Americans would love. He showed me an unpublished piano duet that he orchestrated for ensemble. I asked him for piano solo works so I could introduce unfamiliar works among more familiar titles to new audiences. He had plenty.

Henk was prolific.

One summer he was busy arranging music for the Metropole Orchestra. He was also giving private composition lessons. The last time he played at the Monument House Concert Series was the last set “Dichter op Muziek” at the Glass Vase Concert with Anna Schweitzer (cello) and Marianne Verbrugge (vocals). He had accompanied Harm Vuijk on the piano for his new euphonium concerto “All in Good Time” at the Piano as Orchestra concert in 2006.

As I write this blog, I am listening to the beautiful voice of his daughter Femke Alkema singing some of the songs he told me about. Henk’s website has full mp3 clips of his works. The muziekfragmenten page contains the vocal pieces with piano. They move me to tears.

Henk had not catalogued all his works on his website.

When he showed me the piano version of “Black Heat” I recognised it. He had given me a copy in 2008 but I had never tried it. I found the recording on his “Nog meer muziek” webpage. He wrote “Black Heat” for concert band. Sample scores are available here.

Black Heat for solo piano by Henk Alkema