Merlijn Twaalfhoven: Listeners in Concert

Information, entertainment and beauty can be accessed instantly and effortlessly.
Using an Internet connection or a satellite dish, one can have an infinite amount of experiences in a short time.

Our knowledge and experience are able to grow as long as we remain receptive, and as long as we can keep up.

I put my old, unread newspapers in the bathroom. The trick is to leaf through an entire newspaper during one visit and convince myself I won’t be missing out on anything essential if I throw the paper away.

Having a general overview is out of the question >

You will never be able to see everything, so you learn to wander around a bit in different worlds and atmospheres.

There are hundreds of people on my Facebook account.
Most of them I know only vaguely.
Some are dear to me.
And yet I don’t have time to catch up extensively with former classmates, ex-lovers or colleagues.
Still, it’s nice to get a glimpse of their world.

The world comes increasingly close >

You can step right into the centre of important events.

My Facebook connections invite me to concerts in Ramallah and Damascus.
I can follow their discussions and their emotions, and participate in the trains of thought of Gaza’s youth.
The history being made there is completely accessible and tangibly close.

The multitude of impressions is fascinating and enriching, as long as your rate of watching, listening and analyzing is sufficiently high >

This is something that can be learned.
You become more adept at screening things superficially and at estimating whether or not something is useful or interesting.

We distance ourselves. The world is tangibly close, but we ourselves draw back.....

I saw an advertisement at the station. People could send a text message to battle injustice in Tibet. The cost was 1 euro.
Well, it was certainly worth that much to me. A fine campaign.
Later somebody called me. Did I want to do more?
I will be more careful participating in these campaigns in the future, because it’s truly a nuisance to receive phone calls afterwards.

Every day I find requests to sign a petition against some injustice in my inbox. I often oblige. After all, it only takes me a few seconds. Hopefully it has an effect somehow, somewhere.

Speed accomplishes a lot >

A daily edition of a newspaper includes more information than a person would have come across in her or his whole lifetime in the 17th century.

A million signatures against injustice can be collected on the Internet in no more than a week.

I put my name on a list to save the bees.
A few days later I received an e-mail, reading:

“Wow! Over the weekend half a million of us have signed up to save the world's bees.”

I am not sure if I felt satisfied. Bees might not care about digital signatures at all.

Attention >

Attention requires time.

I am proud when I work on some task on the computer for more than one hour without checking my e-mail or a news-update.

Knowledge without commitment to a subject will remain superficial >

A superficial multitude is completely different from an experience that arises from engagement.
It is less rich, less profound.

It is also less true.

Intuition can easily be manipulated. Politics and commerce make use of fleeting, one-sided imagery, statements and distorted facts to influence our judgement. We probably do not want this. We want the freedom to interpret our observations by ourselves. An honest and true view of reality is thereby essential.

Honesty benefits from time >

Taking one’s time is no luxury, but indispensable to keeping track of reality.
In this world, taking one’s time is an art that needs to be learned and developed all over again.

Music can help.

Music provides room to breathe because it can’t go any faster than it does.

How to engage with impulses that can’t go any faster than they are coming.

That sounds beautiful.
But I often experience time very intensely in a concert hall.
Not because I am engaged, but because I am bored.
Since you are trapped inside the audience, there is no escape.
Reading a book is not a possibility.

During a live concert one can experience time without the distraction of a storyline >

In a concert, sound merges with time. The music relates nothing but its own sound.
It isn’t at the service of anything, but exists purely by itself.
The concert hall is therefore the ultimate place to experience the essence of time. It gives us the opportunity to rejoin our restless, full and agitated inner worlds with the rhythm of our physical reality.

The acoustics are perfect. Temperature and moisture exactly in balance to make sure the piano stays in tune.

When you enter a concert hall, you step into a different world.
Normal life is shut out.
You cross the treshold of a place where different rules prevail.
You submit yourself to a refined set of codes, defining your behaviour, obeservation and reflection.

Every place in the world has it’s own code, with corresponding behaviour >

Besides, every little piece of time has its own label: work, social, recreation, self-improvement, etc. The more precise the role and function of a person, space or moment, the better our lives will be organized.

For the first time in my life I need to plan my moments of leisure.
For years I only planned my work. Usefulness, necessity and passion were fused to such an extent that my activities formed an organic unity.
Nowadays, with wife and child, a distinction has arisen between working and private time.
It takes some getting used to.

Everything has its place >

It’s no different with music.
Every genre or subculture has its own stage.
Separate from the rest. Independent.
It shows how rich our culture is. How differentiated.

We are free to examine such pieces by attending an endless variety of venues, galleries and concert halls.
The challenge is to make the right choices amongst this variety.

In such a case you go by the reviews.
Or you pick something with a nice poster.
Or you base yourself on the opinions of your friends.
You leave the choice to other people.

The public wants to be assured of a good experience. The margin for surprises becomes as small as possible. Genres that cannot be described precisely are unmarketable.

I enjoy going to concerts or the theatre by myself.
I pick something that interests me; occasionally even something I have no idea of what it will be like.
I sometimes end up being disappointed.
When going with others, I want the guarantee of a successful evening.
A good atmosphere.
I won’t allow for any uncertainties.
I’m not taking any chances.

A music lover who has total freedom to choose whatever he wants, will not make a commitment to anything >

His decisions will always be tentative. With an abundance of musical offerings there is little time to look beyond the surface.

I rarely buy presale tickets.
I can’t be sure there won’t be something else happening the same evening I’d rather see or hear.

There is so much that it is impossible to experience everything >

Even the most wonderful music can be done without.

I rarely feel like something can’t be missed.
Too often, concerts are advertised as something really special.
Too often, the papers are full of good reviews.
Too often, my friends recommend me to go to certain concerts.
I not seldom want to go to three concerts on the same evening.
Sometimes I just stay home instead.

Social relations have loosened dramatically over the past fifty years >

We are now completely free to opt for whatever we like, without taking other people’s expectations into account.

Fortunately I hardly ever feel obligated to go to a concert.
Of course I would love to attend the concerts of my friends and collegues, but there are so many of them that it isn’t feasible.
Equally, these friends and collegues rarely show up at my own concerts.
Everyone’s busy with their own things.

Going to a soccer game is no longer reserved for a specific type of public >

Just like it isn’t strange go to an exclusive opera when you’re not a rich person. These are experiences that are becoming more and more disconnected from our social status. We are free to choose from such experiences, like we are free to choose our own type of car, wallpaper or menstrual pad.

There are big differences among musical genres, bands, venues, and artists >

Yet they all make use of posters, flyers, a website and advertising in order to appeal to their audience. Like commercial companies, they are attempting to communicate in the most professional and polished manner possible and are going along with the pulp of information trying to reach an audience.

I’ve learned to hedge myself against advertisements. As soon as I become aware of someone trying to sell me some product or service, I pull out.

We are trained to ignore music >

Music is often used to create atmosphere. It colors our surroundings, often plays in the background during movies, in stores and restaurants.

During a conversation in a restaurant I am often distracted by the music.
I am temporarily unable to perceive the music as a wallpaper.
Is it due to my professional ears?
Is there too much information inside the music, suddenly reminding me of something?

Technology brings into our living room the world’s most skilled musicians >

We may listen to perfectly executed music at any time of the day. This is no longer extraordinary or surprising; it is very common, inexpensive or even free.
We are used to hearing and seeing the best international artists. Therefore, when we attend a concert, the very least we expect is the same level of performance.

Even an album recording of classical music sometimes consists of hundreds of small fragments that have been spliced together.
Just like how in movies we can no longer distinguish between actors and special effects, with recorded music we cannot tell human virtuosity from technological optimization.
We have become indifferent, spoiled by immaculate products. The physical struggle the artists went through to achieve maximum results, is hidden from view.

For a musician doesn’t have time to build up a relationship with the audience. To make ends meet, he or she must perform concerts at constantly varying locations. There is little time for anything else during a concert. Planning is completely efficient and tight.

I composed a piece for large orchestra.
Before the first rehearsal, the conductor didn’t need to meet with me for more than three minutes.
He didn’t really have any questions, but did point out a few small errors in the score.
When I wanted to tell the orchestra about the underlying intentions of my piece, I was reluctantly allowed a minute of speaking time.

A musician will not easily be affected by a location >

His performance was already perfected in the rehearsal studio. He does not want to derogate from it.
In the concert hall as well everything should sound as on the recording: perfect.
A musician can’t afford to take any risks. To ensure a perfect performance, all uncertainties have to be eliminated.

Of course it is nice to see these shows being so popular. Young people are greatly encouraged to sing or dance themselves. The audience is trained to listen precisely and with a critical ear.

I tried to find participants for a music theatre project.
I held my talk in front of choirs, in schools and community centers.
I got a meager response.
Then I simply announced: AUDITIONS.
Without further explanation.
Immediately I had dozens of applicants.

Fighting and struggling through an audition >

The audience seems to be more interested in seeing someone fighting and struggling through an audition, than in hearing a professional sing really well.

I am more captivated by an inexperienced singer than by a professional performing flawlessly.
It’s more exciting to me because I realize how frightening it must be for that person.

An inexperienced singer makes audible again how difficult it is to achieve perfection >

An audience can identify with the auditioner because it can imagine what that person must be going through.

When I was a violist, the best thing was being in the middle of the orchestra.
It’s a great feeling to be part of one magnificent orchestral sound.
The sound is everywhere. Around you, as well as outside and inside of you.

For centuries, music was above all something to do >

A concert was not a passive experience, but an activity.
In church or during parties and celebrations, participating in the music emphasized group unity.

Before that, the chairs were placed around tables and coffee was served.
A concert was a social experience. Nowadays, one is supposed to sit still during a performance.

The musicians are often far away, on an elevated stage.
Your ticket tells you which seat you’re allowed to take. Which stranger will be sitting next to you during the following hour.

From the moment the piece has started, the musicians are engrossed in their sound.

If I want to go along with the musical story, I sometimes close my eyes.
The composition then sounds pure and near.
There are no distractions from the hustle and bustle of the musicians.
I am very careful, worried about showing anything outwardly. After all there are people I don’t know all around me, and nothing is as humiliating as an angry look or an agitated comment.

As soon as the applause has dyed away, the musicians disappear into the dressing rooms >

Similarly, the audience instantly disintegrates. Some people go home directly, others are engaged in conversation. Perhaps there was a brief moment of connection, of a shared experience. After the music finishes it’s all over.

Professionalism means efficiency >

When contact between people takes place on a professional level it is very purposeful. But it doesn’t involve real engagement. Engagement benefits from openness, and we are only open when a situation is unpredictable and requires us to be alert to unexpected things.

I often ask non-professionals to participate in a concert.
With young students and amateurs, you can feel the excitement and sense of adventure.
Of course you shouldn’t have them doing things professionals can do much better, but you should create a role for them that allows them to do simple things with complete dedication.

Nobody is an amateur >

Nobody is an amateur at being themselves.

With my concerts I try to find a balance between a music that should sound as close to perfection as possible, and a gathering of people that is both exciting and sincere.
After all, perfect music is only interesting when you’re open-minded and curious.
Content and form are fully entwined.

Patterns are deeply rooted in human beings >

The challenge is to break through them without simply replacing them with new patterns.
Because without a prescribed behavioral pattern, we will have to be very aware of our surroundings. We learn to look and listen in a very precise way.

How can music bring people together for something more than a fleeting, aesthetic experience?
How do you create music that doesn’t make people judge from a distance but allows them to engage with performers and with their fellow listeners?