Wind's little sister, originally uploaded by Thorsten Becker.
“Come children, come gather round, I want to show you something,” master Wu Shi encouraged his little pupils. “Do you know what this is?” he asked. “It’s a flute,” the children replied. “Oh yes, but it is much more than that. It is a messenger. Can you guess whose messenger?” All the children sat with open eyes, shaking their heads saying “No”, a long, drawn out “no” so typical for little children. “It is the wind’s messenger. It brings us all the wonderful stories the wind collects from the trees and brushes and shrubs and the fields and the bamboo. Here, close your eyes and listen, listen to the wind.”
And so they all closed their eyes and listened, their heads swaying side to side, listened to the wind in the leaves, its rustling of tree crowns, its whispering in the underbrush, its playfulness in the field, its creaking of the branches, its rushing through the bamboo. They listened intensely to all the wonderful and wondrous sounds of the wind.
“Now,” master Wu Shi said softly, “the wind cannot contain his excitement and bubbles forth every story he comes across at every moment. For us to understand him we need a messenger, someone who can tell us his stories so that we understand them; we need his little sister the flute.” And with that he put a flute to his mouth and started playing a soft and gentle melody, changing notes in harmony with the wind’s whispering and rustling and rushing. And when he was done the little children said “me too, me too”. Master Wu Shi smiled and handed it to them.
But when the children tried to play the flute it would just make all sorts of odd and funny noises. “It’s not working master, it doesn’t like us,” they said with much disappointment. “Don’t worry my children, it very much likes you. But it can be very playful, just like you. You have to teach it how to tell you the stories you would like to hear.” And one by one he showed his pupils how to play the flute, giving each child their own. And at the end of the day the wind was telling them many enchanting stories.
© Thorsten Becker
I wrote this little story three years ago and I decided to re-publish it, not only because I polished it up a bit but I also want to talk more about the motivation behind some of my posts.
Music is an important part of my life. My parents both love music. My mother introduced me to classical music when I was still an infant while my father is the quintessential audiophile who shaped my ear for the finest nuances of music. As a result I loved music in school, often staying longer just to play around a bit.
I never took formal lessons though learned the basics of piano playing from an old lady by the name of Gertrud Morgenstern-Konwitschny, originally from Moravia, a very talented pianist whose brother was a famous conductor in Germany (see Franz Konwitschny). She used to buy classical music LPs in the record store my mother worked at back in the 80s. I would then deliver them to her apartment situated in the most affluent area of Hannover, Germany (called the Zoo District due to its proximity to the zoo). I still remember the massive rooms filled with elaborate antique furniture and that impressive Steinway grand piano in the center of her study. Of course delivering records encompassed more than simply dropping them off. Tea, cookies and a conversation was often a must and her favorite topic was, naturally, classical music. Her infectious enthusiasm for music stuck with me my whole life.
Admittedly I am still no further in my piano playing then I was back then but my desire to write and compose music has certainly grown. Nowadays I combine my fascination with computers and my love for music by composing electronically. But I've also taken up playing the flute in recent years, primarily Native American flutes. The one pictured at top is in key Em, my personal favorite. It was handmade of Alaska yellow cedar by an 80 year old Cheyenne artist and is adorned with a piece of red spiny oyster shell (which he collected in Anasazi ruins), turquoises and a hand cut and polished labradorite. It sounds very warm and mystical. It's a truly special instruments which is not easy to master when you're just starting out, but I always enjoy a good challenge. I favor the flute as it represents an intimate connection of me with nature – my breathe and the wood combine to create melodies.
Thus, the idea of the story at the beginning is to teach children appreciation for music from an early age on, enriching their lives as well as connecting them to the world surrounding them. In times past it was quite common in Western culture that many family members played at least one instrument, I still recall my grandfather playing the violin. Sadly this time of family bonding has become almost extinct, at least the playing of instruments for pure enjoyment rather than prestige. Music is a powerfully emotional form of expression and communication and should most certainly be fostered and appreciated as such and can add much to a family's happiness.
How about you? Do you play an instrument? If so, is there someone in particular that influenced or impressed you in your personal life? I welcome your comments as well as any experiences you may like to share.
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I really liked this, particularly because you told me many times about the woman who taught you how to play piano when you were little but I never knew her name or where she was from. I liked how you wrote a beautiful story here and then connected it to your own musical background AND showed a photo of the flute in which you own and described so nicely.
Thorsten, these are wonderful, meaningful words.
What can I say? I started with piano lessons at age four, on a beautiful upright rosewood Steinway. At age six our tenament apartment in Manhattan burned to the ground and we lost everything and had no insurance. One of the first things my parents procured was another piano, a sad, donated one. It was on that piano that I took lessons from Professor Pflanz, an immigrant who had come to American after WW1. I took lessons from him from age 7 to age 18. While sight reading was not my strength, improvisation was, and I helped put myself through college by giving lessons and playing at coffee houses and restaurants. To this day, my favorite classics are piano concertos, usually Chopin, Rachmaninoff.
I had my own piano for many years, an upright practice Baldwin. It followed me from Philadelphia to LA to Philadelphia and then Hamburg. I gave it away before moving to Italy. The humidity of old farmhouses in Italy is not condusive to piano soundboards. I miss having a piano terribly. I have thought about and electronic keyboard, but have not bought one.
One of the most special days of my life (yes, my life) was to visit the Steinway factory in Hamburg when they had an open house. They took us through all the phases of making a Klavier … from bending the wood and drying it over one year to hand coiling the strings with copper. It was magical. I used to go into the Steinway store on Colonaden in HH and play the Steinways. It was next to my language school and they welcomed people coming in and keeping their pianos in tune by playing them hard and well.
Now I have friends in the town that I live that have a concert grand in their restaurant. I can go there and play when I want. I don’t do it nearly often enough. My dream, when this phase of my life is over in Italy , is to have an altbau apartment somewhere in Germany with one room dedicated to a piano. Maybe it won’t turn out exactly like that. Maybe it will be a modern aparment or house or something, but there wll be a piano.
Thank you for giving me space to share this.
Diana, thank you so much for sharing your story, that was a real treat to read. It must have been difficult to part with your piano after it went with you to so many different places. But I know what you mean about humidity and soundboards, better knowing it to be in an appreciative home than having it potentially ruined. I do have to say though that modern electronic pianos have come a long way. They won’t replace the pure tactile experience and the grandeur of a real grand but they sound fantastic. And humidity is much less of a concern (if they are well made). I can definitely recommend looking into it, at least for the interim. We should all meet up some day, I’d really like to hear you play.
Lovely story and even lovelier memories. I so agree with your thoughts on the extinct bond of family traditions (particularly music in your case). Our children are growing up missing a link that has been passed for centuries and generations, yet that tradition and bond will be ending over the last few generations of youth.
Growing up, I only had brief training in piano and clarinet. I didn’t have that passion, expression and love modeled and passed on to me, so I think that is why I never continued. I am sad for that. I love and appreciate all types of music, yet never learned to fully express myself that way.
I believe that emotional passion for any art is what should drive the individual so that their art becomes an extension of them and their love for something. That has been desperately lost with society’s value of monetary gain and social status. True love for something develops over time and with some dedication and work. The value and worth for creating and doing for the sake of expression, love and creativity is most often cast aside with society’s push for dollar value and monetary worth. Society often demands our creativity be almost an instant gratification.
We all have our own story to tell, that lovingly evolves and is communicated over time if only we would start appreciating that in each individual.
Thank you again for your beautiful reminder of this.
Thank you Erica for that great comment. I couldn’t agree more with you. Value and worth are nowadays mostly measured in profitability, the question of “how much do I get for it?” trumps the question of “how can I share more of it?”. Personal enrichment is confused with material riches. I watch with deep concern how music in general has turned from cultural treasure to consumable commodity, on the listener side as well as on the musician side. I am a firm subscriber of that emotional passion you talk about and the time and dedication that is needed to foster any creative endeavor. We all learn from observation and you made a very personal and valuable point when you talked about experiencing a lack in passion modeled. Good role models are essential. We need good examples and we need encouragement, especially when it comes to artistic expressions which often convey our thoughts and feelings much better then words alone. Thank you again for sharing some very important points to consider.
Another magical and perfectly drawn tale, Thorsten. I’m very glad you republished it and I very much enjoyed hearing about your own musical background. And your Cheyenne flute is definitely a treasure.
I play a little piano but my main instrument growing up was the clarinet. Music and poetry have always been an integral part of our lives. My Mother is a musical genius — a violin and voice prodigy as a child and still enthralling us with piano concerts at age 86. She astounds with her ability to play complex pieces by ear, an ability I never had. Arthritis in her hands hampers some day to day activities but when she sits down at the piano, she says she doesn’t feel any pain at all and her hands move over the keys in a sprightly dance of joy.
Thanks again for posting this!
Thank you Georgianna, I really like the story of your mom. I am always impressed and moved when I see people of advanced age being really passionate about what they do. It almost seems like time runs backwards the moment they can do what they enjoy so much. There is a Dutch actor in Germany by the name of Johannes Heesters whose now 107 years old and is still going up on stage. It’s absolutely unbelievable but also a confirmation for me that doing what we are truly passionate about more often than not leads to a (very) long and rich life.