frightening awareness that has
to be |
captured
in a frame of beautiful |
freedom and the reach for some
skills of |
expression. For me, at the time, learning |
to play the guitar was one
of the ways to |
fulfill these needs. |
|
With the few savings I had, I
bought a |
second-, second- or even more second- |
hand electric guitar, trusting
that the old |
radio I used as an amplifier to my own |
built record-player, would
carry these |
tunes too. At a whispering level it did, a |
fact that was welcomed by
all the family |
but me. |
So soon I traded this guitar for another
|
self-made one
that was as well an
|
acoustic- as an electric guitar. The man
|
who sold me this
guitar gave me also a
|
few lessons, a birthday gift from my
|
parents. However,
this man being a
|
trumpet player, perhaps but a
|
sales-man certainly, soon reached
the
|
end of his knowledge of how to play the
|
guitar. So than all the rest I
learned
|
myself, mainly according to the songs
|
of those days.
|
|
Both guitars, the Italian one of
my sister |
who stopped playing it, and my own that |
I rebuilt and changed its
colour from |
madder deep red into a fine polished |
zinc white, had to my taste a too limited |
expression reach. But I definitely
lacked |
the money for buying a 'real' guitar that |
would suit
my needs and wants better. |
So in my summer
holidays I disobeyed |
my family and took
for a month a job |
as a street cleaner, also
definitely a |
forming experience, but that
is another |
story. With the money earned
I bought |
a very
nice Japanese guitar. I
trusted the |
Japanese as instrument
builders having |
a
tradition of their own in creating good |
string music instruments. They also tried |
to conquer the Western market, I knew. |
So the offer was, as hoped, an extreme |
nice guitar for a
relatively small price. |
A match I only could afford on the very |
last day of my summer job. |
|
I use phosphor bronze snares on it. It |
sounds simply beautiful. I have never |
regretted buying this six stringed |
'Emperador', neither the effort that |
enabled me to do so. |
|
|
"The
Guitar - Guitarist" |
Herbert
ten Thij, oil - painting on panel. |
|
On a sunny Saturday morning in my first |
year as a student I strolled on the Oude |
Gracht (Old Canal Street) in Utrecht.
I |
had an appointment
with a friend, but I |
was a little too early. So I could visit
first |
a little music shop in that street, that
was |
only open on Saturdays. I had the habit |
those days to listen to twelve stringed |
guitars where ever I encountered them. |
Most of the time the guitars offered were |
very disappointing, mainly because
they |
were not really built as twelve stringed |
instruments, but as common
six |
stringed ones and only poorly adjusted. |
Also this time I handed back the
last of |
the three displayed guitars I tried with a |
dark look of dissatisfaction
on my face. |
The shop owner who had listened to my |
playing with some interest,
stopped me |
when I was about to leave the shop. He |
had another guitar that had a
little |
damage from its shipment, but that |
nevertheless could be of my
interest. I |
must admit that I did not have much |
expectations, believing more his
selling |
intentions than other plausible motives. |
He went for this guitar to his
storage |
space in the cellar of the house. I waited |
and waited. When he got back I |
immediately
recognized he carried a |
Japanese made instrument. All the |
waiting was forgotten instantly. And it |
sounded nice. And it ringed clear. And it |
wept so gently. All as probably |
voices of angels would be. At last I |
found a real twelve stringed guitar ! |
Because it was damaged - only a few |
scratches on the back and a glue-able |
crack in the bottom side - its price could |
be managed. Later I learned that I |
acquired a top instrument for only a |
fraction
of its worth. Sometimes you |
have to be lucky, it seems. But that is |
perhaps of little
interest here. I have put |
silver strings on it to complete its sound |
even more pleasantly. It is always a joy |
to play this guitar. |
Fate or fortune, I am
grateful anyway. |
|
Nice stories have to end sadly, they say, |
as life so often does. I don't know. I am |
only angry about the loss of those
vast |
seas of time I once could sail on and that |
I enjoyed so much. Nowadays too many |
obligations take my daylight hours. As a |
result also my guitars mostly hang on the |
wall of
my study. The dark sound holes |
in them seem as pharaoh's mouths |
waiting silently for their soul to return. |
So they
shortly speak history now most |
of the time. |
Someday perhaps -hopefully than- they |
will sing again more often as they once |
used to do, playing their part to
make |
time sound and share it with me at the |
same time too. |
|
|
|
Here after you may find three more pages |
with also some guitar music performed. |
These pages are about illustrations and
|
compositions.
First you hear one
piece and |
you will see one half of a white fox in the
light. |
Next you
will hear the second piece and you
|
will see another half of the same
white fox by
|
the completing angle of light. Than you may |
enjoy the
synthesis of both pieces and also |
the whole composition of the figure.
|
Just click
here
or on the little white fox below
|
and there you go.
|
|
|
|
|