Background music to short film and how it is an essential part of the message.
Notice the background music, from drumming and other percussive rhythms to melody and song. Let me know what you think.
At 18:30 we three were the second to arrive at the home of a fellow Rotarian for a barbecue. At 22:00 we left with a member bound for Hong Kong or Bangkok. In between, we had a lot of caipirinha, delicious food, and pleasant conversation that made us laugh.
This blog entry has nothing to do with music but everything to do with food. There was background music inside the house, but we were all outside.
On Tuesday 27th July 2010, a retired English physicist, an Indian IT engineer, and I met on the train to Hollandse Rading, two stops north of Utrecht Centraal station. We were the second to arrive for a barbecue at our Brazilian Rotarian’s home.
The entrance to the 1950’s home of our fellow Rotarian was a big bush of hortensia, so beautiful that I had to take a photo.
The Brazilian Rotary member and her Dutch husband warmly greeted us with chilled caipirinha, a Brazilian cocktail drink decorated with a slice of lime and sugar around the rim of the glass. We were told it’s alcoholic, but the sweetness and our thirst made us want more. It’s a pity I did not take a photo, for the drink was central to the evening’s conversation.
We were so comfortable sitting at the table on the terrace that we did not venture into the long, well-kept garden, not least because it looked like it was going to rain.
And it did. By then, we were actively engaged in conversation. Our diversity index was high that evening: 2 New Zealanders, 1 Malaysian, 1 Belgian, 1 Indian, 1 English, 1 Italian, 1 from Ghana, 1 Turkish. Rotary Utrecht International is the third international club in the Netherlands (three international clubs in a total of 500 Rotary Clubs in the country).
The garden was bordered by a pond and another hortensia bush. On a nice day, we would certainly have strolled through the garden, but the grass was so well-maintained that we joked about taking our shoes off.
The white hortensia bush looked pristine.
Everything was set up well before our arrival.
For starters, we were served several dishes of deep friend stuffed balls and other pastries.
This was more than a barbecue. Dinner for a dozen Rotarians who had the time and interest to come here on a Tuesday night — the lucky dozen I’d say.
And there was more…
There was even dessert — home made desserts of merengue pie and passion fruit sorbet cake.
All of this accompanied by wine or beer or caipirinha!
For many musicians, myself included, getting a piece ready for live performance takes months if not years. Many musicians feel that their music should speak for itself. There should not be a need to explain it or distract from the music. When executed properly, music should touch, move, and inspire. But it’s also important to develop a rapport with the audience. How does one engage an audience?
There’s a Chinese saying, “On stage 3 minutes, off (below) stage 10 years.” It could take 10 years of preparation to deliver a 3 minute performance. Tai shang san fen zhong, tai xia shi nian gong.
For many musicians, myself included, getting a piece ready for live performance takes months if not years. It’s taken our piano guitar duo 9 years before we were ready to release our first CD. All time is given to perfecting the piece for performance. Is there any time left for anything else?
Many musicians feel that their music should speak for itself. There should not be a need to explain it or distract from the music. When executed properly, music should touch, move, and inspire. On a CD, perhaps. When you’re famous, perhaps. A virtuoso performance may impress but not necessarily engage the audience.
In a live concert, the audience is also searching for eye contact and something else besides the music. Robert Bekkers’ 7 years at conservatory did not include training to engage the audience. In my own musical education, I witnessed the emphasis placed on musicianship, performance practice, interpretation, and a host of other essential matters but not how to engage the audience.
How does one develop rapport with an audience on stage?
At Rich Wyman‘s concert in Doorn, Netherlands, I experienced not only superior audience engagement but also audience involvement. This was not a talk show. His first instrumental prelude (piano solo introduction) immediately touched me. It was like a magic wand aimed directly at me and nearly made me cry.
Wyman’s piano solo reminded me of stolen moments in my “previous” life. Once upon a time, I improvised on the piano to work out a feeling or mood I was in. I did it for myself out of a need to process a particular agony, pain, or nostalgia.
That prelude opened me to receive what Wyman had to offer. Next he sang a song of his own. He invited the audience to sing along “American Pie,” a request from a member of the support team. That was the beginning of audience involvement. We knew the chorus. We knew most of the lyrics. We couldn’t wait to be asked to sing along. His piano interludes and accompaniment to this popular melody brought the music to life. Those were the days.
Wyman had a tough audience to engage that night in Doorn. It was a free evening concert in a Dutch resort where people stayed in tents or bungalows with their families. The front row seats were taken by squirming and restless kids, some of whom thought they were the evening act. Robert and I sat in the second row trying to filter out the movement and noise. People behind and around us were in a state of constant flux, fidgeting and chatting. They probably thought that the amplification and speakers gave them the license to be loud.
Yet somehow, Wyman was able to command the audience to sit through two sets (concert began at 20:40 and ended before 23:00 with a break), a standing ovation, two encores, and fans to queue for his autograph. People cheered for more. We bought all 6 CDs, DVD, and a T-shirt. We didn’t want to leave. We wanted to hang out and absorb more of that positive energy.
How did Wyman manage to convert an audience from strangers to fans? When I got home, I searched for him on youtube and discovered that Wyman sang and spoke for environmental protection and other issues I believed in. I decided to join him and upload a video I took with my mobile phone below.
Audience engagement is the subject of a series of blogs. Perhaps the first thing to do is to get an audience to like you. How do you do that? Revisit Dale Carnegie’s claim to fame, the book “How to win friends and influence people.”
Background
After giving our piano guitar duo concert in Amsterdam, we drove to Doorn to catch the last concert of American singer songwriter Rich Wyman on this 6 week tour of Ireland and the Netherlands. We had only met him two evenings before, enough to motivate us to abandon all plans on a Sunday night to see him live.
When we first met him on Friday evening, it felt like a blind date. He brought his sons on tour in Ireland, and his wife Lisa joined them in Holland. We were introduced via Facebook and that’s how it began.
The summer periods are the most difficult to get a full house for indoor concerts. The weather makes the decisions for them. It’s that painful “nobody knows” principle of concerts —- the demand is uncertain.
The summer periods are the most difficult to get a full house for indoor concerts. The weather makes the decisions for them. It was a cloudy about-to-rain-any-moment day on Sunday 25th July 2010. Maybe people would suspend their plans for the beach and come to our concert in Amsterdam —- that was our hope.
Three days before the concert, I called the owners and producers of Funen Concerts Art Productions. No one had e-mailed or called to reserve. A year ago July half of the composers we had invited for our contemporary music concert were on holiday. This year was no different. July is a difficult month for house concerts, we concluded. [Elderly homes and hospitals are another story.]
Inside the bedroom where we waited for the clock to strike 3 pm, Robert and I looked at each other with similar thoughts. We didn’t hear a stampede of people nor a queue for tickets. We did not tell our friends they had to reserve in advance. It’s that painful “nobody knows” principle of concerts —- the demand is uncertain.
One of our friends had bought train tickets from Nijmegen to come to the concert but discovered there were no trains to Arnhem for the entire month. He had called to tell us that he could not get there on time. Much later, we learned that two other friends living in Amsterdam had started their journey 45 minutes early but could not find the location. We had not heard a yes from anybody else that we had invited.
The thought of walking to an empty room was terrifying.
At 3:10 pm, the co-owner and co-producer Erik tapped on the door to signal us to begin the concert.
To our surprise, the house was full. 22 paid guests, we learned. Excited to see four familiar faces, I welcomed the guests.
“We begin with Handel’s Arrival of the Queen of Sheba. I was looking for a good arrangement for piano duet for my trip to Helsinki last November. What’s that? Robert asked. It sounded exciting, he said. But I didn’t have an arrangement for piano and guitar. No problem, he said. I’ll have it arranged by the time you come back.”
True to his word, this arrangement was waiting for me. It’s from the third act in Handel’s oratorio Solomon.
After the one-hour concert, we mingled with the guests. One couple said they spotted in the newspaper there was a concert today, so they came from Noordwijk to see us. Another came from the Hague. Not everyone was local, it seemed.
What I love most about house concerts is the opportunity to talk to the guests afterwards. With an intimate crowd such as this, it was possible to chat with nearly everyone. I recognised a couple from last year’s concert. We didn’t have CDs to sell or sign then.
“I bet everyone who goes to your house concerts want to have one in his/her home. Then they probably dismiss the idea because they think their homes are too small or too inadequate.” It didn’t occur to me that my house was too small. Neither did Erik and Bart of Funen Park 125.
One of the guests at one of our Monument House concerts remarked “I bet everyone who goes to your house concerts want to have one in his/her home. Then they probably dismiss the idea because they think their homes are too small or too inadequate.”
When I first attended a house concert in Houston, Texas, I didn’t think that. Instead I remember thinking — wow! How can I get invited to another house concert? How can I perform in one?
The answer was to organise a concert in my own home.
It didn’t occur to me that my 2-bedroom Victorian cottage in London was too small. A mere 72 square metres (775 square feet), it even accommodated a grand piano in the living room. People sat on the steep stairs. Many sat on the floor or stood near the door. In the summer time, I organised outdoor concerts in my tiny garden. Where there is a will, there is a way. I wanted to play music. I wanted to share.
Erik and Bart probably thought the same. They renovated their 1-bedroom ground floor apartment in Funen Park in Amsterdam to accommodate their passion for the arts. They got rid of their garage and enlarged their living room. If you visit Funen Park 125, you would not think it’s a home for it feels more like a boutique art gallery and concert salon than a living space. They have cleverly managed their space such that they can book musicians a year into the future for their fortnightly Sunday afternoon concert series.
Yesterday we gave our second concert at Funen Concerts Art Productions. The colour booklet contained programme notes Erik and Bart had translated into Dutch from the English text we provided. The entire experience of working with these concert producers was very pleasant.
Concerts shouldn’t be exclusive to those who have the time and freedom to travel. But they are. People with children, especially young children, cannot afford to bring them to big concert halls. House concerts could be a solution.
Concerts shouldn’t be exclusive to those who have the time and freedom to travel. But they are. People with children, especially young children, cannot afford to bring them to big concert halls. They need a creche or a quick escape if the children act up.
The mother of the youngest member of our audience said, “This (afternoon concert) is a good time for us. Our 6-month baby takes a nap then. This location (Funen Park, Amsterdam) is a mere 25 minute drive for us. If he cries, we can get up and take him outside quickly. Sorry, he missed the last 10 minutes of your concert.”
Several years ago, in London, I had proposed that a creche or babysitting facility be offered so that single parents could afford to come to concerts. The application for a local council grant never went through because I was moving to the Netherlands.
As a house concert producer, I often get asked if parents could bring their children. My reaction is often tainted by my concern for the other paying listeners. Would they mind? Suppose all guests are parents with children. They would understand. You want your children to grow up acquainted with classical music — live classical music. You want to share your cultural upbringing with your kids. How else will they discover the joy of live classical music?
Indeed, house concerts could be a solution.
The young mother was elated that she and her husband could bring their son to our house concert at Funen Concerts Art Productions in Amsterdam. “I want to go to all your concerts. Tell me when and where they are. Utrecht is not far from us. How can I find out about house concerts?”
House concerts are a great way to combine music with other interesting activities. As a concert producer, I realise that wine is both an attraction and detriment, the latter if not controlled can be a runaway cost. I invited Eveline Scheren, who started her own organic wine business recently, to offer her wines after our piano guitar duo concert at Funen Park, Amsterdam.
House concerts are a great way to combine music with other interesting activities. As a concert producer, I realise that wine is both an attraction and detriment, the latter if not controlled can be a runaway cost. New house concert producers often fret over where to obtain affordable but good wine and ample supply of wine glasses. One way to deal with this is to invite a wine connoisseur or a wine merchant to provide the wines, i.e. outsource the entire “wine” department.
I invited Eveline Scheren, who started her own organic wine business recently, to offer her wines after our piano guitar duo concert at Funen Park, Amsterdam on Sunday 25th July 2010. I had met Eveline at a sister Rotary Club meeting in Utrecht a year ago. We stayed in touch via e-mail though she had never been to any of our concerts, until yesterday.
“How is organic wine different from normal, non-organic wines?” I asked.
Eveline, who has both an MSc in Wine Management and an MBA, explained that organic (also known as biological) refers to a way of farming which does not use pesticides, fungicides, or other harmful chemicals that cause the soil to lose all life. Acquiring this certification poses considerable uncertainty and risk to the farmer because crops could fail. As a result, organic wines tend to be more expensive.
She gave some rough statistics. About 3% of the agricultural land in France is used for vineyards. But 30 to 50% of all pesticide, fungicide, and other chemicals used in farming is used by the wine industry. That is a shocking amount. No wonder the soil dies after a few years. Organic farming, on the other hand, uses natural means to fight the bugs and aims to create a new equilibrium in the vineyard so that the soil comes back to life. In other words, it’s more creative, takes more time, but ultimately results in sustainable practices that are less harmful to the earth.
After our one hour duo concert, the 22 guests gathered around Eveline’s table of organic wines for tasting. I asked for the single French rosé wine to taste but discovered that the Italian white was just as refreshing.
There is a simple analogy between music and wine. Our concert was a taste of our music. Those that liked it wanted more — and bought our CDs. Those that enjoyed the taste of the organic wines bought bottles home. We bought three.
Immediately after our concert, one gentleman thanked us and bought our CD. I asked if he would stay for the organic wine tasting. He replied,”No. I have my own wines at home.” Perplexed by his reaction, I told Eveline who remarked knowingly,”He was probably afraid that he would end up buying wines. This happens. Once you taste something you like, you want to buy it.”
“Ah! He did not want to be led into temptation,” I concluded.
It was a most pleasant way to finish our concert experience: to learn about organic wines and to taste the 7 different wines on sale: 3 whites (Italian Fasoli Garganega IGT 2009, Spanish Menade Verdejo Rueda 2009, Portuguese Air Dao White), the Rosé 2009 from France, and 3 reds (Elemental Carmenere 2009 from Chili, Domaine Bassac Cabernet Sauvignon from France, and the red Hospice Catalaans.
I am now drinking the rosé as I type this blog: Domaine Emile & Rose 2009 from France. [Earlier this evening, I had the Domaine Hospice Catalans Grande Reserve 2008 to accompany a delicious venison dinner that Robert cooked.]
I think twice about switching on my Mac powerbook and going online. There are several reasons for this hesitation. The biggest one is that it’s hard to switch off. Before long, I am online the entire day.
I think twice about switching on my Mac powerbook and going online. There are several reasons for this hesitation. The biggest one is that it’s hard to switch off. Before long, I am online the entire day.
Take today, for instance.
Just after 3 pm, I turned on the computer to get the addresses of the two enthusiastic fans who wanted to order signed copies of our new duo CD. I logged into Naxos CD Online so I could listen to Albeniz’ Tango which I played yesterday. I wanted to hear someone else’s interpretation.
While online, I decided to check my Concertblog statistics to see if it would hit 13,000 visitors today. Seeing that it was getting very close, I thought of writing a blog about yesterday’s meeting with an American singer/songwriter and his wife. When I tweeted the resultant blog, I saw a few things on Twitter that lured me to click and read on.
I went into Facebook to see if my tweets propagated. I thanked the friend who introduced me to the singer/songwriter. I thanked her friend and told the short story of how one thing led to another. This is about the Netherlands, Utah, Seattle, and 28 years ago in Okinawa.
I learned a thing or two about social media strategies for musicians and planning recitals, thanks to the clarinettist and blogger that I follow on Twitter. His blog links led me to new websites about how to succeed in the music business, a subject I find wondrously fascinating and remarkably mesmerising.
Many e-mails and several blogs later, it’s 11:28 pm.
There was just a short cycle ride to post one package of CDs to Virginia, a break for noodles and ice cream, and no time to practise the piano.
What do art galleries have to do with music? Scanning the 16-page “Galerie Utrecht Journal” issue June – August 2010, I see the world of contemporary art in Utrecht and elsewhere. How nice it would be to have my own equivalent for music — a Monument House Music Journal and a big mailing list. Would it also take 18 years to build?
In the summer months, the attendance at my International Rotary Club in Utrecht dwindles because people go on holiday. The regular fortnightly dinner meetings are suspended in July and August, making way for special excursions that individual members propose.
One such event, organised by our youngest club member Sophie from New Zealand, was a private tour of the largest contemporary art gallery in Utrecht. She even brought nice wines for an elegant gathering on a warm summer’s eve.
What do art galleries have to do with music? Our experience of giving a small concert in the art gallery in Brugge, Belgium made us curious — can music attract people to come to an exhibition? It’s less formal than a concert hall.
Strategically situated in a corner building on the south end of the famous Oudegracht, Galerie Utrecht spans two floors – the ground floor and the lower ground (or canal level). The owner Eric Morren told us that it would soon be renamed with his surname for Galerie Utrecht has locations in Amsterdam on the prestigious Prinsengracht and elsewhere.
Morren led us through the gallery, introducing various paintings and sculptures on display. I truly value a guided tour by someone who knows the artists so intimately. I could see why the sale prices ranged from 500 to 10,000 euros. By telling us the reputation of the artists and the techniques they used, he educated us about art. He explained that the prices displayed were the minimum prices. I didn’t understand that — no haggling?
18 years ago Morren started the gallery with an exhibition in his one-room art studio downstairs. Over time, he gradually acquired more space and expanded to the two floors and beyond. He has a huge mailing list and his own publication. There is even a state-of-the-art kitchen downstairs for culinary events via FoodJazz&DJS.
Every single item in Morren’s art gallery has personal meaning to him, because he has gone through the process of obtaining the artwork for exhibition. He has developed relationships with the artists. In a similar vein, every single item in our homes bears meaning to ourselves in the same way. Perhaps that’s why it’s difficult to part with them.
I spotted a huge painting on the way to the toilet. It was nearly hidden in the small hallway where there was hardly any space to view the large painting. The price tag was €34,000. I asked him if that was the most expensive item on sale. Morren replied,”No. That’s not for sale. I own it. I just didn’t have anywhere in my house to put it.”
Scanning the 16-page “Galerie Utrecht Journal” issue June – August 2010, I see the world of contemporary art in Utrecht and elsewhere. How nice it would be to have my own equivalent for music — a Monument House Music Journal and a big mailing list. Would it also take 18 years to build? It’s already our 5th year of Monument House Concert productions.
I called it “Completing the trio.” I just needed a violinist to complete my duo with French horn and my duo with cellist. The Dutch violinist who opened the music gates for us in Taiwan was returning to the Netherlands for a short vacation. I decided to make an event of it.
Some of the best memories I have are not recorded on photo, audio, or video. For this reason, I blog as a kind of bookmark — to trigger the memories and to never forget. How could I forget sitting at the piano, playing the Brahms horn trio, the Mendelssohn piano trios, and Piazzolla piano trio versions of his Four Seasons?
That afternoon of Thursday 15th July 2010 was a special one for me.
I called it “Completing the trio.” I just needed a violinist to complete my duo with French horn and my duo with cellist. The Dutch violinist who opened the music gates for us in Taiwan was returning to the Netherlands for a short vacation. I decided to make an event of it.
Once we started playing the trios, I realised that it was the most wonderful thing to play and experience chamber music. The sound was overwhelming and all encompassing. Had I discovered chamber music earlier, I would majored in music instead of engineering. Chamber music didn’t exist in my childhood on Okinawa. The closest thing was quatre main — piano duets. I played the keyboard in various bands, but that was not chamber music.
To entice the musicians to come to this “Completing the Trio” event, I organised a barbecue. I marinated spareribs in a special spicy Asian mix. I defrosted several dozen giant tiger prawns. I prepared Chinese cold noodles in the fridge. It was just a get-together for my indulgence in music — not a concert by any means.
I wanted to keep it small, intimate, and manageable. Just the 3 musicians plus me and Robert, that way I could focus on the music.
I tried to resist inviting others to this indulgent day of music and barbecue. I failed.
In the end, I invited my friend Kristen from Atlanta whom I hadn’t seen in 2 years. I invited a Hawaiian artist and his Dutch partner, both of whom I had never met but was very curious after reading his art catalogue.
The phone rang unexpectedly that afternoon. “I heard you’re having a rehearsal. We’d like to come to hear you. There are five of us. May we come to hear you?” News leaked of our musical gathering. “It’s a rehearsal,” I said. “Not a concert. Bring some chicken for the barbecue.”
The guest list of 3 expanded to 12. There were 14 of us that day enjoying the music, the barbecue, and the acrobatics.
Concert Blog 