Snow!

The final days

The end of 2009 is coming, which means it’s time for … a list. Not a list of things I accomplished or want to accomplish, because we need to enjoy the present, every little moment we have now, in stead of looking back or forward. Not a list of cd’s either, because it would be, I have to admit, a very long list, and not at interesting. But a list of the books I read this year (and quotations on 5). Quite short, something some people read in a month (where do they get the time?!). But on top of all my efforts on becoming a musician I used some of my spare time to learn Spanish. So, furthermore also a list of books I’d like to read next year, 2010. A lot of Spanish once, because, just admit it, it’s such a beautiful language. Ten sentences in Spanish can say more than a whole book in Dutch or English. And therefore I also started yet another blog, with my favorite Spanish songs.

Elizabeth Kostova: De historicus (4)
Walter Moers: Die Stadt der träumenden Bücher (5)
Alma Mahler: Gustav Mahler, herinneringen en brieven (3)
Andromeda Romano-Lax: De Spaanse strijkstok (5)
Olivier Pouriol: Mefistowals (3)
Roberta Guaspari: Music of the Heart (3)
Louis Andriessen: Het Apollinish uurwerk (3)
Joanna Rowling: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (3)
Boudewijn Buckinx: De kleine pomo (1)
Federico Moccia: Perdona si te llamo amor (5)
Anna Enquist: Contrapunt (5)
Hélène Grimaud: Wildernis sonate (4)
Eoin Colfer: Artemis Fowl en de tijdparadox (5)
Joseph Gelinek: La décima sinfonía (5)

Meanwhile, I’m still reading:
Federico Moccia: Tres metros sobre el cielo (2)
Gloria Ruiz Ramos: Amo hacer música (4)
Jorge Bucay: Déjame que te cuente (5)

And my big plans for 2010:
Jorge Bucay: Cartas para Claudia
Jorge Bucay: El camino de las lágrimas
Jorge Bucay: El camino de la felicidad
Jorge Bucay: Cuentos para pensar
Joseph: Gelinek: El violin del diablo
Antonio Muñoz Molina: El invierno en Lisboa
Ildefonso Falcones: La catedral del mar
Carlos Ruíz Zafón: La sombra del viento
Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra: Don Quijote de la Mancha
Wolfgang Schreiber: Große Dirigenten
Magriet de Moor: De virtuoos
Margriet de Moor: De Kreutzersonate
Tracy Chevalier: Meisje met de parel

Euhm… yes, Jorge Bucay has a new fan: me. Bucay is and argentinian psychotherapist. In his books, he shares an awful lot of wisdom with the reader, often brought to us in short stories. His books are easy to read, and absolutely very interesting. My discovery of the year.

Hodie Christus natus est

Read: Wild harmonies

Another book review. After I finished reading counterpoint (last Tuesday evening) I made a bunch of train journeys, which means I could read a lot. So I finished another book already (finished it some days ago, but I had to make some time to translate the review).

I read ‘Wild harmonies’. Subtitle is ‘Life with music and wolves’, and it the autobiography of the French pianist Hélène Grimaud. Some time ago (could be a few years) I read an interview with her in ‘Le monde de la musique’, about the 5th piano concerto of Ludwig van Beethoven. She sounded inspired and all into the music. I was surprised when I walked through a book shop and saw a book with her name on it. But actually I find it a great idea, all famous (or even less famous) musicians should write an autobiogrphy. It’s a great way to tell the world your view on music. Music may be a universal language, everyone interprets it in a different way.

At some points I recognize myself in the person of Hélène: finding human interaction unnecessary at certain moment, finding piece, a new way of being, a new world, in music, extreme stubborness. The story could be about me at those moments, but in other things we differ like day and night. Hélène commits that she was a real problem child, that she seemed to have an obsessive-compulsive disorder. When her parents sent her to music lessons, she became different, more calm. She appeared to be a natural at the piano and was accepted to the conservatory of Paris at an extremely young age. After a lot stubborn decisions, one better than the other, she arrived in America. She meets her new friends, the wolves and ends up opening the New York Wolf Centre. The wolves help her to connect with nature, which changes her vision on music and the piano. Piano, wolves and Hélène Grimaud now live in perfect harmony.

I have a serious dogfobia, and yet I found it very interesting to read about the history of wolves. The legends, their intelligence, their relationship with human beings,… I almost felt a certain connection with these animals. The way Hélène describes her life in music is enchanting. Her life, her education, het brave decisions (wanting to do everything on her own), her vision on music, her relationship with other famous musicians,… Each musicians, wether he is an amateur, student or profesional, should read this. An amazing book, by an amazing pianist.

Read: Counterpoint

Counterpoint in the latest novel by the Dutch writer Anna enquist. The structure of this book is based on Johann Sebastian Bach’s Golberg Variations. A woman of a certain age, decides to study the variations one more time. Meanwhile she overlooks her life, remembering her daughter and son. Each variations is an episode of her life.

Writing is therapeutic for Anna Enquist, to process her daughter’s death. Yes indeed, she is the woman. Counterpoint is autobiographic, but Enquist keeps a certain distance from the whole story by not mentioning the novel is about her own life. De combination life story / information about the variations is great. Especially in the end, when the death of Bach’s son and the woman’s daughter come together in the same chapter, the same variation.

The whole book leads to the death of both children. The woman takes us along the road, we follow without protest. Death is emotional, touching, but music lightens the pain.

Cecilia and Chopin

I don’t like Chopin. I don’t like Chopin at all.

Okay, so I didn’t like Chopin. That changed slightly due to the numerous analysises of several Nocturnes, Waltzes, Etudes,… during the harmony lessons at the conservatory. In the end I even ended up buying ‘Impromptu, a movie about Chopin’s life.

A few weeks ago, I was watching L’auberge espagnole, in which the Waltz opus 64 Nr.2 symbolises the relationship between Xavier and Anne-Sophie. I downloaded the score and started studying. While I was listening to some interpretations on YouTube, I discovered that Alexandre Tharaud, who’s Ravel recording I thought was simply sublime, made a recording of the Chopin Waltzes. So on my next trip to the Fnac I bought that recording (as well as his recording of the Préludes). After listening to these two cd’s no one can possibly say he doesn’t like Chopin, not even me. My piano teacher was completely stunned by my change in music taste (two years ago, she had to force me to study the 6th Prélude).

Un grand merci à Alexandre Tharaud.

Read: Perdona si te llamo amor

Scusa ma ti chiamo amore (Sorry if I love you), is a novel by the Italian author Federico Moccia. His books are very popular in Italy, some of them have even been adapted for the screen. I bought the Spanish translantion, Perdona si te llamo amor, during my visit to Madrid in July. It took me a little over a month to finish reading my first Spanish book. It was definitely worth it.

Niki, 17, is in her last year of secondary school, while Alessandro, 37, is working as creative director, and has just been stood up by his fiancé, Elena. Niki and Alex meet when he accidently hits her motorcycle with his Mercedes. Although they have different characters and there’s an age difference of 20 years, they fall in love. Their relationship has some ups and downs, due to pressure of friends, parents, Elena,… but in the end everything’s well. And in the next book (Scusa ma ti voglia sposare, Sorry if I want to marry you) we can read if they lived happily ever after.

Is this chicklit or not? I think not. I thought the story was interesting to read, not completely predictable. The writing style was surprising and original. A good story, and a good translation. I really think I improved my Spanish by reading this. The more I read, the more I could understand complete sentences and noticed that I had learned new words, just by interpreting them. At the end of book, reading Spanish was like reading any other foreign language.

Quotes:

No hacemos nada bien hasta que dejamos de pensar en el modo de hacerlo.
We do nothing well, until we stop thinking about how to do it.

La vida se acaba sólo cuándo se deja de vivir.
Life only ends when one stops to live.

El secreto tras una victoria consiste en no volver a jugar. Hay que saber levantarse de la mesa en el momento oportuno. Todo el mundo es buen jugador, pero pocos son auténticos vencedores.
The secret of a victory exist in not wanting to play. One has to know to leave the table at the oportune moment. Everyone’s a good player, but only few are authentic winners.

El que gana, lo celebra, el que pierdo, lo explica.
He, who wins, celebrates, he, who loses, explains.

La felicidad no tiene que ser una meta, sino un estilo de vida.
Happiness doesn’t have to be a goal, but a way of living.

Did you know…

… that I was ReTweeted 3 times today? I posted the shortest viola joke ever: A violist went to a masterclass.

Early one morning

Lentamente
igual como se escribe un poeme
surge de la nada
el amanecer

Días de verano parte 3

The last part of trip: two days in Madrid and two days on the train, back to Belgium. It was strange to be back on my own again those last three days. But my head was still full of people, full of good memories, and full of 5 different languages.

Day 14:

I took me 13 days to get so tired I didn’t wake up at least 15 minutes before my alarm went off. No, today, I woke up 15 minutes after my alarm should have gone off, but didn’t, because I didn’t pull the button hard enough. So we woke up late and we were in a hurry, because we promised to meet  N (who was at the course last year). But our roommate didn’t bother asking us if we were in a hurry and if we needed much time in the bathroom (no) and she went to take a long shower. Grrrrr. We managed to be downstairs at 9.20, 5 minutes before N. Apparently she meant 9 o’clock Spanish time . She was very suprised we hadn’t seen the Plaza Mayor yet, so off we went. Furthermore we saw the outside of El museo del Prado, the botanical garden, the Atocha train station, the museo Reina Sofía and the Conservatorio Superior. And the we went to eat churros, because C and I both didn’t know what that was, which N almost saw as a crime.

Then C had to leave for the airport, and N and me went to visit the Catedral de Santa María Real de la Almudena. Very funny cathedral. It’s only been finished in 1980 and everything inside is very modern. No big trompe l’oeils on the ceiling, but motives from the seventies. Glass windows from 1999, not at all in the old glass window tradition. Modern sculptures and paintings, and al inscriptions in Spanish in stead of Latin. At first, I had to laugh, but I actually liked it. If we had this in Belgium, I could imagine that more people went to the church, because it doesn’t seem like something that ‘used to be hip’.

After I took pictures of the outside of the cathedral, I was showing N my pictures from Ávila and then, my camera shut down (I suppose the ‘low battery’ sign that had appeared a few minutes before was a warning). So no pictures of our afternoon in Parque del Retiro, which is by the way a great parc, bigger than all parks in Brussels together. We talked a lot, and enjoyed the shadow in the parc, and the finish this wonderful day together (and to cool off a little) we went to eat an ice cream. We’re going to do this again next year, and I promised N that I’ll try to speak Spanish then.

When I arrived back at the hotel, I got to know my roommates a little better: K from South Africa / London, Y from Venezuela / Canada, R from Brasil and C from Austria. We decided to go out for a drink together, all individual people, brought together in this big city. I had fun, although I noticed that my English is that good anymore. I’m used to speaking ‘foreigners English’ (‘I go eat, you come too?’, something like that). At times I could say a word in three or four languages, but not in English. Aaaargh. Wo knows what mistakes I’ve been writing here on this blog.

Day 15:

My last day in Madrid, I went out on my own. First I went to the Charmartin train station to get my ticket for France for the next day. Then back to Puerta del Sol to do some shopping (at Fnac, or did you really think I’d go shopping for clothes). I bought to cd’s by Amaral (Pájaros en la cabeza en Estrella del mar) and two books by Federico Moccia (Perdona si te llamo amor and Tres metros sobre el cielo). Moccia is Italian, but I suppose translations from Italian to Spanish are better than those to Dutch (this is a hint, never buy a Dutch translation of any book). At least these books are easier than La sombra del viento, of which I don’t understand much (yet).

I spent my afternoon in the museo Reina Sofía, heaven for contemporary arts enthusiasts like me. I really like the paintings by Joan Miró and the photographs of Francesc Català-Roca. And I was surprised by the various pieces of video art. I even recognised the painting by Magritte. But my favorite piece was the Indistructable Object, a giant metronome. I already saw it’s ancestor, the 26cm high Object to be Destroyed in Brussels once.

When I arrived back at the hostel at 5 o’clock, I was so tired I decided to take a nap (OMG, I was already becoming Spanish, doing siesta, eating late, listening to Amaral). After my nap I packed my bags again (I had been throwing a lot stuff in my locker, and all those things still had to go in my suitcase, help) and the I went to the Parque del Retiro again, this time with my new book, so I could read. And after dinner straight to bed.

Day 16:

Thursday morning, 6 o’clock: tututututututututu. Aargh, so know my alarm works. Way too early to get up, but I didn’t want to take the risk to miss the train. I arrived at Chamartin one hour early, time enough for a nice breakfast. At 7.30 I bought a (Spanish) news paper and went to the right platform. On the train, I was sitting next to … indeed, a mother with two children. A girl, aproximately 6 years old, and her little brother, around 1,5 or 2. I actually enjoyed it. They weren’t annoying at all. The little boy was funny, I played with him for a while and this long trip seemed to be quite short.

We arrived in Irún 4 minutes late, left for Hendaye immediately, but had to wait more than 10 minutes to enter the station of Hendaye. Of course, I (and with me dozen of others) missed the TGV to Bordeaux and Paris. When we asked the SNCF-ladies why they didn’t keep the TGV waiting, they answered: ‘You came with a train from Renfe, it’s not our responsability when the Spanish train has a delay.’ But we had to wait to enter the French station!!!!!!! Aaaaaarrrgggghh.

Ok, off to the info desk, to ask if I could use my TGV ticket on the next Corail to Bordeaux. On my way there I met an Australian couple and a girl from Kenia / America who didn’t speak any French. I offered to help them and translated all the lady at the desk explained us. Then we went for a coffee and meanwhile we had an interesting talk about our cultural differences. After a long journey I arrived in Bordeaux and went straight to the hotel. I already missed Spain. Even at 8 in the evening, there is nothing to do in Bordeaux.

Day 17:

The last day of my trip. Only travelling. Rue Huguerie – Gare de Bordeaux Saint Jean – Gare de Paris Montparnasse – Montparnasse Bienvenue – Paris Nord – Gare de Paris Nord – Bruxelles Midi – Hasselt – home. And then it was all over. No regrets at all. I had a great time, met a lot of great people, had a lot of very interesting clarinet lessons and a lot of fun. Now I can start thinking about what I want to do next year. And start practising my Spanish.