I AM SITTING HERE PROOF READING ON THE TEXT OF MY "MEMORIES", a book called "How I survived Japan".. Into a chapter concerning my very first time to perform in the Philippines in 1982, I could not stop thinking that some friends out there might like to read this single chapter. YES! It is the truth.... Here it comes: The Bamboo Organ Festival, Manila, February 1982 This annual event is named after the famous bamboo organ which can be found in the 400 year old Spanish church in the district of Manila called Las Pinãs. The organ was built in 1824 by a energetic and music interested Spanish monk. The organ consists solely of bamboo in the necessary length and thickness of its pipes, in order to produce all the tones required on an organ. It was built in the old Spanish style and tuned slightly lower than today’s pitch of 440 hz., actually some 436-438 hz, so was the tuning in those 400 years ago. That makes it very difficult to tune modern musical instruments together with this “flat” organ, particularly for wind instruments, as our instruments are buid to 440 hz, or even 243 hz sometimes, as the pitz of the tuning is today all over the world. In principle it makes no difference what type of material is used for making organ pipes but the use of bamboo is unique and the sound produced is indistinguishable from that of factory produced metal pipes. The mild February sub-tropical climate of the Philippines must possess healing qualities as I could feel my strength returning. It was as if there was a higher power helping me with the task ahead. In addition to my concert performances I was engaged in teaching at the Philippine Music Academy in Diliman City on the other side of Manila, at that time a one hour taxi trip in each direction, minus air-conditioning. That’s how it was at that time. Today this takes some 2-3 hours each way due to the heavy trafic. My trombone solo programme included performances with 3 different symphony orchestras, including Guilment’s Morceau Symphonique, and solo performances with one whole concert devoted to me alone in where I was accompanied on the organ. The organist was professor Marrku Ketola from Helsinki, Finland who also taught at the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki, and the repertoire spanned from Corelli, Friscobaldi and Galliard to J.S. Bach. An extra concert was scheduled for 14th February, Saint Valentines Day (all lovers day), with the Manila Symphony Orchestra, and to suit the occasion I had a classical trombone solo from the romantic repertoire, written by a composer called Sache, the music built over a theme from Romeo and Juliet. The concert attracted an audience of 5-8000 persons in the Lunetta Park in Manila and was a live TV transmission, the largest concert in which I have ever performed, going out to all Philippines and some 80 million people. My trombone solo lasted for ca. 15 minutes and included several technically difficult variations and very fast technique on the trombone, actually very demanding for the best performers. This solo concert piece from the romantic period in musical history was originally written for the valve trombone but can be performed on the slide trombone albeit mastering a very rapid slide technique. During the performance a young lady in the audience got carried away and attempted to climb up on the stage, assumingly to make contact with me..., or as I was told later: she wanted to kiss me on public television here on Valentin’s Day), but she was quickly removed by the security staff who’s job it is to protect the performers against such emotional outbreaks. Later I found this episode quite amusing. Well into the festival programme I was still somewhat weak from my pneumonia and although the warm climate was beneficial I could still feel pain and the strain on my lungs when playing the trombone. There was also a series of concerts with the German trumpet player Gerd Zarpf from the Munich Opera in Germany. The programme consisted of various chamber music pieces that he had brought with him and these extra performances were all televised for direct transmission by Philippine TV. In connection with this I had the opportunity of playing for the first time with a Filipino conductor by the name of Francisco Feliciano who was new on the scene, even in the Philippines. At the end of the festival, which for me was an unmitigated success, I was asked to meet with some of the top personalities from the music world and after the mandatory pleasantries was asked the question: — “Mr. Gade, what do you think about our new young conductor, Francisco Feliciano?” Without hesitation I praised him, saying “that I thought he deserved recognition and hope he would enjoy a successful career”. Every musician knows how much a few words of acknowledgement mean for his or her career when said in the right place to the right people. There was no doubt – Francisco Feliciano went right to the top of Filipino music fraternity in record time and occasionally he would call me and ask for advice that I was only too pleased to give him. The pace quickened and he was offered a contract with the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra. But alas, within a year megalomania set in, his rapid ascend and success went to his head and he reached the stage where he could barely look at the people with whom he was working. It is indeed a very sad for an artist to sink to this level, but that was the case with Francisco Feliciano and having later spoken to colleagues who were unfortunate enough to have played under him, his condition was amply confirmed. I too experienced the same when seeing his later performances. Today he is history in the Philippines, a burnt out fire cracker that exploded in his own negative energy and I feel ashamed of the fact that I was so mistaken in judging the man’s qualities, for it was I who spoke so highly of him in the first place. It was a pleasure teaching the bright young pupils at the University of the Philippines music academy in Diliman City, right outside Manila, where attitudes to learning are quite different compared to my home country of Denmark where music students often are very lazy and don’t practise enough every day. One music student who followed my lessons was by the name Ryan Cayabayb,. Later he became a hit star and a composer known by all Philippinos in the world, and who have made several recordings and CD’s. A friend today! Here in Asia students follow the teachings in what is the natural process of learning, whereas in Denmark at that time it was more a question of the students telling the teacher what they wanted to learn and how he should go about it, “the perfect fool-system” in a country with totally misunderstood ideas of what was democracy. I prepared a comprehensive programme of original baroque and renaissance music for brass instruments for my Filipino students, something that was completely new to them. It was an interesting period for this music as we in the west were gradually uncovering these musical treasures, some of which had been hidden away in libraries and monasteries in Europe for the past 200 to 400 years. At the end of the last day of rehearsals and with one free day before “the real concert programme” began for the audiences, we were a group of 5 or 6 performing artists that decided to “paint the town red”. We embarked on a “night club crawl” of Manila, listening to some great bands and entertainers that the city is well known for and as the evening progressed our numbers decreased with my colleagues returning to the hotel, one by one, until yours truly stood alone. It was time for me to “hit the hay” too and with my trombone case under my arm I began walking through a small side street to hit a big road on the other side, where I easily could get a cab to my hotel. In a new or unfamiliar place or location I would normally keep to the straight forward route using the main, well-lit streets to get from A to B, but on this occasion, tired and eager to get some sleep, I decided to take a short cut through a dimly lit side street, between two main streets. Having walked about half way down the side street I was aware of a sound behind me and without turning my head I saw in the reflex of my spectacles two persons following me. There were no other people in that street. Sensing danger in the air I stopped in front of shop window displaying a sole ladies dress that looked as if it had hung there for several decades. From the corner of my eye I saw the two men approaching and one of them had a knife at the ready. Slowly, I turned around and looked directly into the eyes of the man with the knife without blinking and said in English: — “Phew, it’s warm tonight. I’m looking for a place where I can get a beer. Is there anywhere nearby? If you two are Filipinos and thirsty then I’m buying them. I just love the Philippines!” - A waterfall of talk came out of my mouth... It was a one-sided conversation with me talking continuously giving neither of them a chance to get a word in. At no time did I look directly at the knife, a trick I learned once from a girl who could eye a person unobserved whilst seemingly concentrating on something completely different. The knife disappeared into the pocket of the bearer and we started to walk towards the main street with me talking all the time. After a few minutes we were sitting in a bar, a lively place, and I began to feel a little more at ease with so many people around. One of the two men continued to stare at me with a fixed gaze, without smiling, which was a bit unnerving, and my thoughts were on how I was going to get rid of my new found “friends” and get back to the hotel. All of a sudden the staring man spoke, saying, “What have you got there?”, pointing to my trombone case. — “Oh, that’s a machine-gun” I replied jokingly, “I’m a professional bank robber”. That made them laugh like crazy and I continued on the subject adding, “but it’s probably not worth robbing a bank in the Philippines”. They laughed even more and very loud... 2 beers for each went down vey fast. Suddenly he, the one with a fixed gaze, began to smile, saying, “Now I know where I have seen you before. You are playing at the Bamboo Organ Festival. I have seen your picture on the posters all over Manila”. And the man was right! In connection with the music festival, posters were produced of all the 10 or 12 main soloists performing, myself included, and displayed throughout the city. It was in fact quite an honour to see oneself in this manner and here and there I was recognised. In a gramophone shop where I purchased some records the proprietor gave me a discount because he had recognized me. From then on the mood changed, more beer arrived courtesy of the two gangsters. The Filipinos love music and musicians and look up to artists and performers, especially if you have your picture displayed across the city. So, for this evening I was a star in their eyes. There comes a point in such a gathering where the conversation dries up and this was fast approaching and I took the opportunity of excusing myself, as I needed some sleep as duty called the next day. Not 100% true but near enough. Out on the street one of the gangsters hailed down a taxi and I got in. At the same time one of them shook his fist and shouted to the driver in the local language, “Tagalog”, something that I obviously did not understand. His tone was anything but friendly. — “What did you say to him?” I asked. — “Sir, I told the driver to take you directly to your hotel, no ‘sightseeing’ on the way. Otherwise he will have us to reckon with!” Just before I rolled the window up one of them said a fond farewell with the following words: “Good night Sir. It was a pleasure meeting an artist from the music festival. And remember, next time you are in Manila, don’t go down side streets alone, it can be dangerous. Take a taxi”. They laughed and I could not help but smile at the whole situation. It had been a very nice evening!
Posted on: Fri, 07 Jun 2013 14:58:56 +0000
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