A Reflection

I went to Sam's recital yesterday at Erasmus Huis, Jakarta. It was amazing. First of all, he was so happy that I got him a Kawai grand piano which is so easy to play and has a deep, lovely bass and a clear top voice, so he was in a perfect mood to play. Then his programme consisted of pieces he really loved, ranging from Bach-Busoni to Beethoven to his own small-scale composition, and he ended the second-half of the recital with lots of work of Chopin, which is very much his element. I love how he plays; it was very poised and he kept his back straight the whole evening. His virtuosity was shown merely by how he handle every piece with so much ease. And his singing tone is incredible. The Nocturne was heart-rending. 

We said a warm goodbye with lots of hugs and kisses after dinner at Marriott and promised to write to each other. It was impossible not to like Sam. He's kind, compassionate, caring and witty. I can imagine talking to him all night. He's so easy to cope with. Thus was the closure of my camp. All's well that ends well.

However, I was thoughtful during the trip back home. I had before that a serious, though short, conversation with Mr. van Hien, my superior at Chamber Music Series. He was sadly considering not to continue CMS, as he is retiring and all the good people he knows have left Indonesia. It was disconcerting. Two months ago we still had high hopes about the new season, and with many blessings from guests-musicians, we saw the future of CMS in a rose-colored eyeglass. But he seems so down yesterday, like it was final.

Later that night I chatted with his wife, who very much hated the idea of continuing the series. She said she couldn't understand why we have to bust our ass and humiliate ourselves by being a beggar in order to make some musicians, who decided to be so by choice, receive their paycheck. She said the artists should get their fee only from ticket sales, and I had to suppress my laughter. (Sam's recital tickets are sold at 50,000 rups, while Alicia Keys, who, I'm sure, received less formal training and practised less longer than Sam, got ten times more for her concert. They simply couldn't survive from ticket sales alone!) She said it's not fair. We sweat and they spend thousands of dollars for a piece of instrument.

Well, she's got a point. Her reasoning makes perfect sense, actually, and many people think alike (just like my family who hates what I'm doing now). And I can fully understand and accept it. Fund raising isn't exactly a thrilling piece of work. You write to companies, talk to their contact person, try to convince them that it's important that they donate, and wait for replies. The dreadful thing about it is that during the whole process, you maintain this feeling of lowliness, especially if you're not born to be a beggar. In addition to that, you feel like falling off your chair every time you get a 'no'. And this happens quite often. And nobody cares for what cause. During the past 9 months I tried to explain the goods of the camp, and I still felt like shit doing it because they still treated me as a beggar. It's not a comforting feeling, and I don't think Mr. van Hien would like such experience.

But I find it difficult to conform to her logic. I really think that good musicians, like all artists, deserve that much money for their talents, hard work and perseverance. And I love to think that what I do is worthwhile, simply because we help people that deserve to be helped. I just can't think of a way to do this without the support of sponsors.

So I'm gonna keep on nagging. My best friend will come in September and I better start to raise fund for his recital. I have concert/workshop project for piano and trumpet in October, afterward maybe a Haydn festival in November. In the meantime, maybe, just maybe, I'll try to continue CMS. It's a big job because it involves 10-months programming, but what I know for sure is that the only impossible thing to do in this world is to eat your own head. I might have to start thinking about my second camp next year, too.

 

Well, there are so many things to think about, so much work to do, but I guess I won't quit.

(Imported old blog, originally written on July 15, 2008)