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Blast from the Past
Apr. 10th, 2011 11:30 pmI'm currently at home in Germany, before taking off on the Turkey trip with my mom on Tuesday. I had a great day out today in the sunshine, walking through the city, seeing old haunts, especially the newly renovated palace which houses part of the University.
I used to study musicology in that building, rather successfully, and since they had an open day with various music groups playing, it was ideal. But that building has changed so much - they had taken out the whole stairwell, replacing it with a new, slimmer one and a glass elevator (which is much appreciated I'm sure, especially by double bass players), the classrooms all have new furniture, there are more piano practice rooms, there is a new and improved studio which had me envious, thinking back on the cramped conditions and eight-track tape machines, when editing music on the computer was new and Cubase hot off the press. They still work with Cubase, but with two huge computer screens and a MIDI/disc grand piano in the next room.
On the other hand, one of my favourite Professors, the one who still teaches all things involving music and electronics and who once managed to get both Stockhausen and Kraftwerk to play in my home town, has turned his classroom into a museum of sorts, with the old Hammond organ and the modular synthesizer that is as big as two wardrobes, the Theremin and the Vocoder and what have you, all things I remember from my time there - and he embraces new developments too, very enthusiastically talking about a new project in Cologne where musical instruments are being "played" by brainwaves. I reminded him of the day he told us of his hope that there would be a way to get a MIDI implant into the brain, and he laughed.
I was walking along the much-changed corridors, feeling a little out of place, when I saw a familiar sign. When I was studying there, we had secured an unused room, got a few old pieces of furniture in and christened the place the "Blue Note Café". And what do you know, it still exists. It is in a different location, and there are different posters on the wall, but the old green sofa and comfy chair are still there.
Coming back home, some hours later, I continued the travel down memory lane. There are a small cardboard boxes in the cellar where I stowed away various things of no real value except to myself - newspaper cuttings, old writings, bits and bobs. We're talking stuff dating from 1976 to 2001. It has been so long since I looked at all of this that the boxes have become time capsules of sorts, laid down by a younger me.
Oh, the things I found. Exercise books from 1976 and the newspaper we made after the Abitur. An autograph of Gidon Kremer and a ticket to a Phil Collins show. All ten editions of the school newspaper I worked for. A comic book I "drew" when I was twelve. A collection of spaghetti recipes and my first (and bad) English short story, both typed on the same old travel typewriter. Diary entries I made in 1986, around the time of Tchernobyl. A newspaper cutting of me posing with a group of Star Trek fans, all of us in costume. The little book that I copied all of the poems from the German version of Lord of the Rings into on a warm summer's day, sitting on the balcony sipping ice tea. The diary I started when I was ten.
Sadly, I never kept up the diary writing. It is interesting, to say the least, to read the thoughts of a ten year old "me", and what was important to me back then. Most of the days seem to have been great, full of new things, the occasional mention of school, and doing things with friends. And speaking of friends, I had to laugh out loud when I saw that my invisible friend, Kimba the White Lion, had made entries in my diary whenver there was space. Even worse, he had a completely different handwriting than I did. I had such an active imagination back then, and no reason to hide it.
I'll do some more researching into personal history tomorrow. It is great fun to reconnect with myself.
I used to study musicology in that building, rather successfully, and since they had an open day with various music groups playing, it was ideal. But that building has changed so much - they had taken out the whole stairwell, replacing it with a new, slimmer one and a glass elevator (which is much appreciated I'm sure, especially by double bass players), the classrooms all have new furniture, there are more piano practice rooms, there is a new and improved studio which had me envious, thinking back on the cramped conditions and eight-track tape machines, when editing music on the computer was new and Cubase hot off the press. They still work with Cubase, but with two huge computer screens and a MIDI/disc grand piano in the next room.
On the other hand, one of my favourite Professors, the one who still teaches all things involving music and electronics and who once managed to get both Stockhausen and Kraftwerk to play in my home town, has turned his classroom into a museum of sorts, with the old Hammond organ and the modular synthesizer that is as big as two wardrobes, the Theremin and the Vocoder and what have you, all things I remember from my time there - and he embraces new developments too, very enthusiastically talking about a new project in Cologne where musical instruments are being "played" by brainwaves. I reminded him of the day he told us of his hope that there would be a way to get a MIDI implant into the brain, and he laughed.
I was walking along the much-changed corridors, feeling a little out of place, when I saw a familiar sign. When I was studying there, we had secured an unused room, got a few old pieces of furniture in and christened the place the "Blue Note Café". And what do you know, it still exists. It is in a different location, and there are different posters on the wall, but the old green sofa and comfy chair are still there.
Coming back home, some hours later, I continued the travel down memory lane. There are a small cardboard boxes in the cellar where I stowed away various things of no real value except to myself - newspaper cuttings, old writings, bits and bobs. We're talking stuff dating from 1976 to 2001. It has been so long since I looked at all of this that the boxes have become time capsules of sorts, laid down by a younger me.
Oh, the things I found. Exercise books from 1976 and the newspaper we made after the Abitur. An autograph of Gidon Kremer and a ticket to a Phil Collins show. All ten editions of the school newspaper I worked for. A comic book I "drew" when I was twelve. A collection of spaghetti recipes and my first (and bad) English short story, both typed on the same old travel typewriter. Diary entries I made in 1986, around the time of Tchernobyl. A newspaper cutting of me posing with a group of Star Trek fans, all of us in costume. The little book that I copied all of the poems from the German version of Lord of the Rings into on a warm summer's day, sitting on the balcony sipping ice tea. The diary I started when I was ten.
Sadly, I never kept up the diary writing. It is interesting, to say the least, to read the thoughts of a ten year old "me", and what was important to me back then. Most of the days seem to have been great, full of new things, the occasional mention of school, and doing things with friends. And speaking of friends, I had to laugh out loud when I saw that my invisible friend, Kimba the White Lion, had made entries in my diary whenver there was space. Even worse, he had a completely different handwriting than I did. I had such an active imagination back then, and no reason to hide it.
I'll do some more researching into personal history tomorrow. It is great fun to reconnect with myself.
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