The House of Hannover (two) - scribblings and unheard music
For years and years kids were sent to Feinkost Lampe by their mothers. Hannover was struck by war. It took the city years to recover, the same years that Ferdinand Lampe took the shopping list and filled the paper bag with carrots and potatoes.
Now the city of Hannover stands proud in the post-industrial age. All the windows shine like a jewel. Only on black and white photographs forgotten angles of younger years get restored to life. The 21st century started way before one realised that it could come.
Shops like Feinkost Lampe are now mostly run by Turkish families. Most of the products are labelled in their language. The shops conserve the smell of a memory.
Fortunately those Turks are immune to any retro-fashion. The grocery shop looks exactly like a grocery shop. Every day a strip of the sidewalk changes into a wall of fruits and vegetables.
It's almost two months now that I played in Hannover on a cold but not so cold evening when fine rain was caught in the orange light of the street lanterns, and behind one of the windows of those broad shouldered German houses Doris was reading a modern fairytale to her husband.
side a)
Florentine mornings - the Orange city - roofs - one moment to wake up, another moment to go back to sleep again - her shoulder - warm happiness and two cappuccino's with a brioche - holding hands in the milk bar - epilogue
side b)
the pointillist's vision - life at this side of the window - it's always there when I dream - a 14 hours train ride to LeHavre -standing on the quay on a rainy day with a hole in my shoe - back in Paris it smells different - the girl in the courtyard - opium - broken keys - only a few hours to pack and forget
The morning after my concert I go up to have breakfast with Claudia and Arne - it's a short walk over stairs that are wide enough to carry a Steinway piano up to the roof. All is wood, all is painted, here's somebody's coat, there's somebody's vacuum cleaner. Sleep is a lazy lover leaning on my shoulder.
Their apartment is warm - behind high windows it's a sunny day in December - the wooden floor reflects sunlight - Hallo cat! Good morning - Gute morgen.
Since those days I carry a list with some scribblings
- warm, cosy venue with good sound,
- regular public of all ages, generous and attentive
- Arne is a good cook
- local beer
- travel expenses paid for
- a hat full of coins
- one day I would like to return
Now the city of Hannover stands proud in the post-industrial age. All the windows shine like a jewel. Only on black and white photographs forgotten angles of younger years get restored to life. The 21st century started way before one realised that it could come.
Shops like Feinkost Lampe are now mostly run by Turkish families. Most of the products are labelled in their language. The shops conserve the smell of a memory.
Fortunately those Turks are immune to any retro-fashion. The grocery shop looks exactly like a grocery shop. Every day a strip of the sidewalk changes into a wall of fruits and vegetables.
It's almost two months now that I played in Hannover on a cold but not so cold evening when fine rain was caught in the orange light of the street lanterns, and behind one of the windows of those broad shouldered German houses Doris was reading a modern fairytale to her husband.
side a)
Florentine mornings - the Orange city - roofs - one moment to wake up, another moment to go back to sleep again - her shoulder - warm happiness and two cappuccino's with a brioche - holding hands in the milk bar - epilogue
side b)
the pointillist's vision - life at this side of the window - it's always there when I dream - a 14 hours train ride to LeHavre -standing on the quay on a rainy day with a hole in my shoe - back in Paris it smells different - the girl in the courtyard - opium - broken keys - only a few hours to pack and forget
The morning after my concert I go up to have breakfast with Claudia and Arne - it's a short walk over stairs that are wide enough to carry a Steinway piano up to the roof. All is wood, all is painted, here's somebody's coat, there's somebody's vacuum cleaner. Sleep is a lazy lover leaning on my shoulder.
Their apartment is warm - behind high windows it's a sunny day in December - the wooden floor reflects sunlight - Hallo cat! Good morning - Gute morgen.
Since those days I carry a list with some scribblings
- warm, cosy venue with good sound,
- regular public of all ages, generous and attentive
- Arne is a good cook
- local beer
- travel expenses paid for
- a hat full of coins
- one day I would like to return
posted by ... at 4:48 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home