Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Voices From the Past

The other day, I followed a chain of comments from a post on another blog, the way one does, and I thought, from the comment, that I'd found a like minded person. As it happens, I was incorrect, but I was interested to find that this blogger (who's name I can't remember, nor how and where I found him) named 'Stimmung' by Karlheinz Stockhausen as one of his favourite pieces of music.

Now, Herr Stockhausen, for the odd one amongst you unfamiliar with his work, has perpetrated one of the 20th Century's greatest frauds upon the the cognisanti of classical music. He has convinced a whole group of people that random chords played discordantly, or voices intoning sounds ('mwh mwh mww mwh mwh, kommittt') for a very long period of time is great music. Or that is what I was given to understand when I was first introduced to it.

When the Chairman and I were first married, we were unable to get a flat that we could both like and afford in North London, and were forced to move south of the river for a couple of years. At that time, I was working in advertising, and the Chairman was auditioning for various rock 'n' roll bands. At one audition, hearing where he lived, another audionee said to him, 'Do you know Dudley Road?'. The Chairman was astonished, it was the road we lived in. 'Well, you must know my friend Sergei then. He's a ballet dancer, and he lives with his girlfriend and toddler at number 56'. More astonishment took place. Although we didn't know Sergei and/or his family, we lived virtually opposite him at number 53.

That evening, there was a knock on the door, and a tall, slim young man with dark, wavy, almost waist length hair, wearing bright orange 'loons' (extremely bell-bottomed trousers) and white pumps, stood on the step.

It was the mysterious Sergei. He was thrilled to find another artiste living in this very 'straight' suburban road in South West London, and invited us to cross the road and meet his family. Of course, we went. All our friends were in Hampstead and Kensington, and it would be great to meet some like minded people out in the boon-docks.

His girlfriend, Siobhan, was also wearing bright orange loons, and their 2 year old daughter, Yasmin, was precociously cute. The house was lit by candles, there was incense burning, and strange sounds were eminating from the stereo.

'What's that music, Man?' asked the Chairman. 'It's 'Stimmung' by Stockhausen.' piped Yasmin, 'It's my favourite music'. Well, it may have been her favourite music, but to me, pleb that I am, it was just boring. But I knew the rule. At no time must one appear uncool. So I assumed the position. Eyes closed, lips slightly parted, head nodding slowly. And I 'enjoyed' the piece.

The Chairman, however, was riveted, and I had to endure Stockhausen, not to mention the Chairman's own 'modern' compositions for some time.

About 18 months later, I came home from work to find an almost overwrought Chairman waiting for me. He had wonderful news. Not only was there going to be a live performance of 'Stimmung' at the Roundhouse at Chalk Farm, but he had bought tickets for us to go and see it. 'Are we all going?' I asked. I had discovered that Siobhan was a kindred spirit. She too hated Stockhausen and was cravenly pretending she loved it so as not to appear uncool. So if we all went, it would be OK, because we'd be able to giggle about it later. But no, it was just us. That meant that I would have to look rapt for 1 1/2 hours (and no laughing or yawning).

Anyway, we went. And I must confess that live, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Six people sitting on the floor with microphones and torches making weird, but strangely harmonic noises.

On the drive home, we made stimmung-like noises in the car. Then the Chairman had an idea. We'd go straight to Sergei and Siobhan's, and start doing our own version on their doorstep, to surprise them when they opened the door.

We got out the car, walked up the path, and stood on the doorstep. 'Mwh mwh mwh mwh mwh' I sung 'Ycon ycon ycon ycon' went the Chairman. We knocked on the door. Footsteps in the hall, the door started to open, we increased the decibels. ''Mwh mwh mwh mwh mwh'. 'Ycon ycon ycon ycon'. The door opened, and standing in the doorway was their 75 year old stern Russian landlord, Mickail Alexandervich.

18 comments:

Mr. X said...

*grin*
There are some classical pieces we've heard - usually at the Proms -, that to our untrained, and probably rather heathanistic, ears that sounded like the orchestra was just tuning up. Badly. One two years ago was improved by several mobile phone ringing.

Uncool or not we still thought it was crap and said so. It didn't seem we were in the minority, either judging by the highly unenthusiastic reception it got.

Nice to hear from you again, hope all is as well as can be up there...

Z said...

Gauche as it is to admit it, even if I can recognise some worth in this sort of piece, I can't remember it at all. If I heard the same thing after the interval, I wouldn't have a clue.

Thank you very very much for coming back and reading my reply to your comment - after I'd written it I thought what a twit I was, leaving a comment for you to read on my blog! General cooking suggestions gratefully received.

Quink said...

Ha ha - great story.

I hate Stockhausen, but I think I'd love singing 'Ycon ycon ycon' outside people's houses.

Chairwoman of the bored said...

Hello fellow Stockhausen loathers!

These days I am far less worried about appearing cool I (possibly because I just intrinsically am:-)), but 'singing' Stockhausen on a South London doorstep was certainly more fun than Karlheinz ever imagined, or probably intended.

eitan said...

Great stuff, chairwoman.
I'm only sorry that you don't
post more often.
Your writing is terrific.

Betty said...

Happy Birthday for tomorrow.

Hope you have a lovely day.

NF Girl.
xx

Z said...

Happy Birthday on Sunday. Have fun.
xx

soubriquet said...

happy birthday, chairwoman!

Dandelion said...

A-one, a-two, a-one-two-three:

A-happy birthday to you
A-happy birthday to you
A-happy birthday dear chairwoman-of-the-bor-ored....
A-happy birthday tooooooooo
Yooooooooo!

Salvadore Vincent said...

Happy Birthday, Chairwoman! All the best bloggers have their birthdays at this time of year.

Let's Kill Saturday Night said...

Happy birthday.

Duck said...

Just popped in to say Happy Birthday Chairwoman and write more often.

Jill said...

Happy. And also birthday. Yes.

potentilla said...

Happy unbirthday!

Chairwoman of the bored said...

Thank you all for visitng and wishing me a happy birthday :-)

I'm sorry I'm such a poor blogger, but as I don't do very much, there's not a lot to say, and I'm saving my anecdotes (somewhat like Stephen King's hero in 'Bag of Bones' (oh yes! there is nothing I will not read) did with his books) and will eke them out over coming (I hope) months.

meredic said...

Eke on. I never expected to use the word 'enjoy' in relation to Stockhausen but that was a great tale.

bob said...

Happy belated birthday. We miss your charming daughter in the house.

Sonia said...

i've enjoyed reading your posts chairwoman auntie! i've tagged you in a 'random facts' game..

sonia