Music and parties

A week of parties and music

It was quite a good and varied week, with lots of baking, several parties, meetings with friends and sharing meals, with family and concerts, and walks on the beach – although the northerly wind made it much colder than expected.

Music

The week began and ended with a concert, both in monumental Dutch churches.

The first concert was an organ recital on Wednesday evening in the beautiful Church of St.John in Gouda. As it was still light, the spectacular stained glass windows showed themselves in their full glory. The verger or rather custodian of the church, Maurits Tompot, is an expert in the history and iconography of the windows and gives presentations in the Netherlands and elsewhere. He briefed us about some lesser visible windows and pointed out things I might otherwise have missed. Funny, because I have often visited this big church and admired the windows, but there is always something new to be seen or noticed.

The big organ in the St.Jan, Gouda

Apart from the improvisation, compositions by well-known French organists filled the church: Alexandre Guilmant, César Franck, Camille Saint-Saëns and Léon Boëllmann, all 19^th century Romantic composers. After playing the smaller organ in the choir, the organist ascended to the big organ over the west door – as far as I know always closed and only used for special occasions such as weddings. It is a beautiful instrument, and a joy to look at while listening to the moving compositions which fitted this grand church. The Suite Gothique by Léon Boëllmann is a very moving and beautiful composition and my favourite.

 Here Marie Claire Alain plays the Suite Gothique on the impressive Cavaillé-Coll organ of the St. Sulpice in Paris

Of course there is no comparison with German or French cathedrals. Most big main churches in the Netherlands were turned into protestant churches after the Reformation, stripping them off their altars, paintings and statues. They look stark and bare, except for their windows which were often spared. A pulpit was added in the middle of the nave and the congregation would face the pulpit, often with their backs to the choir, which was no longer used. Fortunately in some churches the choir stalls with their carved misericords escaped destruction. Perhaps because the carvings were not visible when the seats were turned down? Who knows. Some choirs in big churches were even closed off and used as church halls for meetings and coffee after the service. The original idea of the church built in a west-east position, was lost. However, an empty church draws the attention more to the architecture of the building, the lines.

Yesterday, a week later, also on a Wednesday, I went to Amsterdam to attend a concert given by a fellow choir member, James Hewitt, and an organist friend of his, Iason Marmaras. James, also a composer, plays the baroque violin brilliantly. His friend accompanied him on a small cabinet organ, but also played some music on the beautiful choir organ hanging like a bird's nest against the wall at the intersection of the aisles. 

 The choir organ, Amsterdam

The musicians and the cabinet organ

It was all music by Dutch composers, old masters of Amsterdam, Schop, Schenck and Peterson. The best known amongst them Sweelinck, who was an organist in this church, the "Oude Kerk" in the middle of the red light district. Sweelinck was also buried here and there is a bust and a plaque to memorise him next to his grave. 

 Sweelinck

It is such a shame that this church in one of the most characteristic historic parts of Amsterdam should be surrounded by "windows". I don't see why they have to be around the church. Several of the rooms built against the church and opening into the church, have been restored to their former glory and are open to visitors. One of them is now a modest coffee shop for visitors of the church only, which opens to a small "garden" or rather courtyard and is very romantic. From here one has a view of one of the canals and a canal bridge, fortunately not of the "windows". It is such a joy to hear and see such young and brilliant musicians who are dedicated to their music in spite of the negative attitude of the government when it comes to stimulating musical life and talent in Holland, and culture in general.

 The main organ in the "Oude Kerk", Amsterdam 

 One of the adjacent rooms open to the public and restored

 Below: The coffeeshop taken from the tiny patio garden

One of the misericords. Mostly they were hidden under the seat. Just as well.

Parties

On the days in between the concerts there were two parties: an end of season party for our choir with a bring and share meal at the home of one of the choir members. We were lucky as it was a warm evening and we could spill out into the garden.  The food was delicious, the atmosphere good. It is always a nice surprise to sample the baking and cooking of the members of our multicultural choir. Alas, we had to say goodbye to two choir members, both young and gifted musicians who, apart from singing in the choir, on many an occasion had given their musical talents to the church playing the violin and the cello.

Another party was our annual street BBQ. This time it took place in the garden of one of our neighbours. Party tents had been erected just in case, but we were lucky with a very balmy evening and so sat outside till midnight. It is such a nice happening that former neighbours often join in as well, even one who lives in Germany, as well as children who grew up in this street, – now adults and parents themselves, bringing their children in turn.

I did a lot of baking: quiches, two different ones, and a variation on tiramisu with chocolate, crême de cassis and fresh strawberries. The latter was a great success fortunately, as I had just improvised and not tasted it beforehand.

Beach walks

This week included a day with a former colleague who lives up north, at Petten on the coast, near a nuclear plant. We had a long and cold walk along the beach, and a very nice and prolonged lunch in a beach club. There we were protected against the cold wind and enjoyed the sun, so we were rather reluctant to walk back, especially when the sun decided to call it a day and hid behind very thick clouds. Therefore we decided to return through the dunes which offered at least some protection against the cold wind.

Two evenings ago after a warm day I also went for a two hour walk along the beach near my home. That too was a far colder experience than I expected because of the still strong wind from the north. Fortunately I had taken precautions and brought a much needed sweater. Because of the weather the beach was empty as soon as I left the access to the beach behind me and started walking south. Tide was just going out and each grain of hard sand was glittering like a miniscule diamond in the late sunlight. The beach was as new, rippled by the tide, my footprints the first and only ones which I could still trace undisturbed on my way back. The seagulls were quite indignant that after a day with beach lovers they were disturbed again by this lonely walker. They flew up, spread their wings, circled lazily and waited till I had passed to land again in the exact same spot where they roosted and went on cleaning their ruffled feathers.

Family and nature

On Sunday I drove to Drenthe for my sister's birthday, a  special birthday. As she had her leg in plaster - bright red because she thought white a bit dull – some distraction was very welcome. It was a warm day and we sat out in the garden. I tried to get to her village via minor roads, but was often thwarted by road works and closed crossroads, also on the way back when I had this vision of a red setting sun over wide open fields smelling of freshly mown grasslands. I managed to drive through the heath land near my sister's home, - a detour which I can never resist to make. There has always been moorland in this part of the country, but they – the government? - are extending it by buying up farmland and farmers and returning their lands to what they think is its natural state. It is true that Drenthe was wild and full of moorland which was impassable. That land was gradually either planted with trees and so made into woodland, or cultivated and fertilized and made into agricultural land. Potatoes are the main crop here. Now fields are made into "wild" country again. I think it must be very painful to give land back to "nature" that one has painstakingly cultivated and made fertile with great effort and hard labour. And this is not the only part of Holland where that happens. Much of our farmland is turned into "original" nature, with cows grazing there imported from the Scottish highlands. I do not see what is authentic about that. Or the land is turned into golf courses. Anyway, the late evening light on the rather desolate heath in Drenthe is worth a detour and the emptiness attracts me. The sun hadn't set yet, so no red light on the pools and the white plumes of the reeds. But nevertheless that land always has something mysterious hovering over it, something ghostly.  

 Fochteloo

The week started cold and ended cold, although most highlights were blessed with better summer weather. Let's hope there is some more summer to come!  

To my amazement my garden at least has recovered after a very bad start this year. The water lilies are even outgrowing my pond and have to be divided in autumn. As for now, I enjoy their beauty.