Gouda

A wonderful evening of music, beauty and friendship.

An organ recital in a marvellous church. the St. Jan (St. John) in Gouda. Most non-Dutch people will associate Gouda with cheese, and perhaps candles and "stroopwafels", syrup cookies, but the best things about Gouda is the big church. It is world famous for its stained glass windows, which tell a wonderful story. They are best seen on a summer's day when the sun is shining through the windows, showing the glass in all its glory. Sometimes, early in the summer, during organ recitals, the sun may set during the concert, setting the windows on fire. The website gives a lot of information about the church, and shows all the windows. Unfortunately the English version of the site is far from ready, but it is a work in progress. With a length of 123 meters, the church is also the longest church in the Netherlands. Goudse Glazen in Beeld gives you all the windows in detail.

Then there are the church organs, the impressive pipe organ covering the complete height of the west wall, as well as a small but beautiful choir organ.

The console of the organ in Gouda

Detail of the organ console

An unusual view of the organ

The first part of the programme was played on the choir organ. The programme was opened with a Voluntary by Henry Purcell. Here is the music, played on a very big organ, and rather slow and loud, I think. The choir organ in Gouda has just two manuals, but the sound is very clear and bright, without being sharp.

The programme guided us on a musical tour through Europe, Austria of course represented by Mozart, Seixas representing Portugal.

The tour continued on the big Moreau organ, so we all moved from the choir to the nave of the church, facing the organ. Prelude and Fugue in c-moll BWV 549 by J.S. Bach (Germany), was followed by Concerto in F by Albinoni (Italy). 

Two composers represented France, Guilmant and Widor.

Personally I really loved the subtlety of the Cantilène Pastorale, by Alexandre Guilmant, which sounded amazingly good on an organ which was not really built with French romantic music in mind, but Baroque music.  Widor is always impressive and so versatile. Perhaps I am biased. But does that matter?

Usually I meet lots of friends during those concerts, and we tend to go for a drink with the organist afterwards to discuss the music, and the sound in that particular church. A composition varies a lot depending on the possibilities of the instrument it is played on, the variety of stops on an organ, the period the organ was built in and the country of origin of the organ builder. And not to forget the acoustics of each individual church. And last but not least the interpretation of the organist and his choice of stops. As it was pouring with rain, we huddled up in a warm and cosy cafe in the market square which we did not leave till it was almost midnight .

When I woke up this morning still thinking of the concert and still a bit sleepy after a late night, I went downstairs to the kitchen and to my utter surprise saw a big fox elegantly walking through my tiny patio garden! I thought I must still be dreaming, but I wasn't. I am in an urban area, and apart from goldfish in my pond, a treat for the herons, there is nothing to eat. Unfortunately my small camera was upstairs, so I could only watch, truly amazed, and not send you any proof. 

Scheveningen

The accident of birth?
A special day, the wedding of a cousin who just reached retirement age and his second wife. The official part took place in the Museum of Scheveningen, Muzee, where the very beginning of the groom's family history was quoted from a written history of this former fishing village. The groom's father and my mother were siblings, so their history is also my history.  On my mother's side, we all owe our existence to one man, Daniel Verbaan, a licensed privateer who lived in the 18^th century. He was married on August 12^th 1781. The next day he sailed out with a crew of 20 adult men to fight the English at sea in his ship, aptly named "The Heroic Patriot". When they encountered a ship of the enemy, the Dutch being at war with the English, a fierce battle followed. The Dutch were on the losing hand, and instead of being captured by the English, the ship was blown up, either intentionally because Daniel and his men did not want to be made captives, or because of some unhappy incident. All the men were killed and drowned, Daniel as well. This was on August 14^th, so their marriage lasted only two days. But lo and behold, 8 months after Daniel's death his widow gave birth to a son, another Daniel. And that is our forefather, mine and the groom's, the only Verbaan living in Scheveningen at that time. Now I know where that wild streak in our character comes from. I thought it came from my father's side of the family, but perhaps not.

It was quite an experience to meet a number of cousins again, some of whom I had probably not seen for at least 30 years. One was the spitting image of his father, and although I could not immediately put the correct nametag on him, I knew he was one of my cousins straight away.

All the festivities took place in an area where I grew up, so I had a full day of going down memory lane. The bride and groom – and we, the guests of course - were in luck, as this was the one and so far only real summer's day since the end of June, I think. In the evening there was a garden party, and it stayed warm and dry till almost midnight. There was no wind to speak of either, which is amazing considering this is a seaside town.

Wedding picture of my grandparents, Willem Verbaan (1882-1928) and Cornelia Pronk (1884-1974). I never saw my grandmother wearing anything but the local costume. She had nothing else. My grandfather looks rather possessive with his hand on her shoulder. I never knew him. His father, my great-grandfather, was also a Daniel.

Concertgebouw

On Monday I had the most enjoyable evening in the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. I have never seen such a big orchestra. This is the programme before the interval:

Richard Wagner (1813-1883)

Overture from 'Rienzi, der letzte der Tribunen'(1842)

Richard Strauss (1864-1949)

Der Tanz der sieben Schleier from 'Salome', opus 54 (1903-05)

These compositions used the complete range of instruments, apparently all the brass, percussion and wind instruments. Especially Strauss reminded me of one of his opera's, which I went to see many years ago, when we were having a very difficult time, "Die Frau ohne Schatten". A kind of little impish ghost hovered over the stage with regular intervals accompanied by a haunting theme. I think it was the woman's shadow which was escaping her all the time, but I am not sure. One of the themes in the Strauss composition reminded me of this particular theme which had the same kind of eerie feel to it. At that time we walked out and left during the interval, because we did not feel well. The opera was a long one, so we had had a good taste of what the rest was going to be. No catching choruses, melodies, lyrics, aria's or themes, but more of the same difficult to understand music – difficult because we were tired and upset and there was no real theme. 'The Dance of the Seven Veils' is a much more interesting composition, which I enjoyed a lot.

         Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) (Dutch spelling: Sjostakovitsj), Symphony number eight, takes a full hour and ten minutes! It is a wonderful experience, as it shows extremes of beautiful lyrical parts, which are pianissimo, or even ppp, and the most deafening full orchestra parts, the brass - two tuba's,  quite a number of trombones and trumpets - , blowing away and getting rather red in the face, their cheeks pumping in and out like mad. Any variety of percussion one can think of, cymbals, chimes, drums, a triangle, a Glockenspiel, a xylophone, timpani, you name it. The pianissimo parts were wonderful. People were on the edge of their seats and no sound apart from the music could be heard. As if people had stopped breathing. The loud parts were exciting to see, the frantic but nevertheless controlled movements of the musicians, the concentration. Unfortunately I found it almost ear-splitting. Too many decibels. I understand why musicians in an orchestra get hearing problems. The violinists were almost blasted away by the brass. Since I lost hearing in one ear last year as a result of a nasty virus infection, loud music unfortunately becomes just loud noise. So although fascinating to see everybody working with so much concentration, I just escaped an instant migraine attack. Perhaps I was not the only one, because I noticed the woman next to me covering her ears with her hands! She did it very unobtrusively not wishing to offend the musicians should any of them notice!

But it was worth it. The acoustics in the Concertgebouw are fabulous and not comparable to any other Dutch concert hall. And the conductor , Andris Nelsons, really was a treat. He danced around, in peril of falling off his podium, and his face was so expressive. He also managed to keep the audience totally silent for a long time after each composition and each part of the symphony. Everybody seemed spellbound.

Nelsons conducts the Berliner Philharmoniker. This is the beginning of the symphony. The complete symphony can be heard via the website of the, Berliner Philharmoniker. They have their own site, the Digital Concert Hall, with recordings of their concerts, interviews with musicians, samples of the music, a full programme and many other issues interesting to music lovers. For a monthly fee one can enjoy their concerts digitally without having to go out.