The world according to KurtTwo decades ago I took singing lessons for two years, from one boastful Mr Ian Field. An old woman of a teacher – he was a baritone who claimed how easy it was for him to learn how to be a tenor, but was also a hurdler for Australia in the 1952 Olympics. I ask you. Anyway, I learnt more from one formidable Mr Kurt Elling in 45 minutes than I did in those laborious lessons, and this is why. I’m an adult now. I think.
The length of your feelingsIf you get 8 amateur dancers together, each with anywhere between 2 and 10+ years’ dance experience, and you measure the length of their arms, then you get an average of 0731. That’s the sort of thing that choreographer Katrien van de Camp does. She’s not your average dancer or choreographer. First of all she a fighter; second of all, she rotates your perspective and prods you to jump out of your comfort zone and into uncharted territory.
Twisting words and musicThe crowd prefers to dawdle outside on this unseasonably warm May evening, rather than come in and listen to the billed entertainment. This doesn’t dint the enthusiasm of Eindhoven band, Ape Not Mice, hired for corporate gig, Made. After the first set Mark Vrolings (31), drummer, looms so very tall over me, yet speaks softly and attentively about the band he started in 2008. The pretty lead singer, Diede Claesen (20), sweetly barges in on the rushed interview and says to him: “Just checking up on you! I want to hear your English!” she laughs teasingly. Language is a cornerstone for this group, which I’m about to find out. But first, the music.
FLIM makes a solid debutWhen you experience a new CD (remember those?), you need to internalise it, deep deep down. Like, let it seep into your skin, and right into your muscles, heart and bones – into your very nature and the roots of you. I’ve only listened to Flim, by Lunapark, three or four times. And right now I’m listening to it to double check how my music-receptors are going. Yep, they’re workin’ okay.
Changed foreverI win things. A lot. You could even say I’m a winner. When I was 10 I won a bmx bike. I also came first in a piano competition that year. And second in the 100m sprint division C. Actually, that’s it, but I don’t ever want to be one of those people who say “I never win anything.” Anyway, so I was on Facebook and two tickets to Spinvis were up for grabs at the Muziekgebouw. I was supposed to leave a comment to have a chance to win. Mine was: “Well, as a struggling student of Dutch, and of music, I’ve been advised by Dutch friends that Spinvis’s music and lyrics would be a worthwhile way for me to improve in leaps and bounds in both subjects. I’d love to see them live!”
Dancing on the inside and outStaff Benda Bilili’s dance music is infectious and the somewhat staid crowd in the Eindhoven Airport Zaal thawed out by the end, where around 150 people in the theatre got footloose in front of the footlights. I couldn’t squirm out of my dead-centre seats, pinned in as I was by serious types; so after dancing a while with my eyes and my heart, I started to dance in my seat. In doing so, I felt a great affinity with the group, many of whom are wheelchair bound.
Face to face with Joan BaezI was enjoying my sunny Saturday like everyone else when an email popped into my mailbox from a guy from Portland called Ian who needed a haircut. Seems kind of random, right? But when it turns out that he’s the lighting guy for folk legend Joan Baez and would be in town for a few days and needed a few tips, I didn’t hesitate to put together a bespoke itinerary for Ian and his crewmates. In my reply email I was also cheeky enough to venture for a ticket to tonight’s concert, and maybe even an interview with the great lady. Let’s just say Ian was pleased with his new hairdo.
It all boils down to the bare essentials: minimalismOkay, I’m talkin’ music again. See, I’m very extremely wound up about minimalism this week in the Netherlands. Philip Glass is here once more, this time to open the World Minimal Music Festival (WMMF), being held the the Muziekgebouw aan ‘t Ij and Muziekgebouw Eindhoven. 11 concerts, and great discounts (like, €10 per concert or a €65 passpartout!) if you’re under 30.
Press pause every Thursday at the MuziekgebouwEvery Thursday, for just one Euro coin (you can’t buy a coffee for less) you can be treated to a lovely lunchtime recital in the Rabobank Zaal at Eindhoven’s Muziekgebouw.
Today I took pause to sway dreamily to the technically (almost scientifically) crisp motions provided by one Natalja Korobanjko (1983), a Moscow-born Dutch resident. I did something novel, and didn’t show up on my own – I joined an Eindhoven expat meetup group. So, I had the pleasure of swooning in concert …
Much ado about musicI need to take another Sunday afternoon to write a piece about why it’s important to make music.
But in the meantime, watch the video to see why it’s important it’s made in Eindhoven.
Great concert this afternoon, Lunapark – sorry I had to run away so quickly at the end, but want you guys to know it was a thoroughly enjoyable arvo!


