Our Man in Erbil Continued

Day 5
Best day so far. Rehearsals go well. Set up new bridge for Aras, which fits for the most part. He thanks me and takes a picture with me. Photo time again, every day. I work with the Erbil orchestra a lot today: Bach Air, Haydn Quartet. Talk a lot about ensemble playing, looking and listening to each other, communicating without a conductor and without talking -- something I'm doing a lot of.

Six violinists from Baghdad ask me to do a technique class with them. One starts playing a Beethoven Romance again, but soon we're talking about positions, shifting, scales. They each want to play a scale for me. I find this strange coming from people my dad's age, but they couldn't be more open to learning, trying new things. No ego or pride in the way.

Then Vivaldi 4 Violin Concerto again. Very fun. Adnan got cold feet. He was not happy with his playing in the first rehearsal so he asks one of his students to play the part and then play in the small orchestra with us. First rehearsal sounds good, should be fun. When I'm talking to them I feel like I'm in a double-echo room with two people interpreting into two languages. I wish I could tell what they are translating because from the looks on people's faces it must not be what I said. I wish I knew what I was telling people.

The other three soloists ask me to work with them some more so we spend another hour and look at the other two movements. Bzhwen wants to do some more Vivaldi “Spring” so we work on that while the others watch. He's having a hard time with it.

Got some good video today of the town and of people in the festival.

Met a violin maker today from Suly, instruments look good but don't sound so good. He was a farmer and taught himself to make instruments by copying others. The first violin he made was plastic, since he had no money for materials, but now he makes many violins and other instruments, some with interesting carved scrolls, animals, women, crazy stuff. He would like help getting to Europe or US to study. We tell him we'll contact a luthier association to see if they can help with funding.

After the building closes I go with Bzhwen to the hotel where the Iraqis are staying. As we walk out of the Cultural Ministry grounds and through the gates, I realize I'm walking along a dusty street in Iraq with someone that doesn't speak much English. I ask him if I look Iraqi and he laughs. He says everyone is looking at me. We get a "taksi" to the hotel and the others are at dinner. I sit at a table with the Suly conductor and some of their musicians. A beer is just what I needed but no one else would join me, either they didn't want to drink in front of me or it was too early. It's 9 pm for crying out loud. Then they want me to try the local drink, called Raksi, I think. It tastes the same as ouzo, pour over ice and add water like a Pastis. It's not till I'm drinking it that they tell me none of them like it. It's preferred by the older generation.

After dinner I go up to the room of Mahmud Hamid, older violinist from Baghdad, who is the teacher of many of the others. He gives me a can of Heineken and some pistachios and cashews. His son, a good pianist, is there to interpret and two of his students are there to listen. They are two of the soloists in the Vivaldi. I video his playing as he goes through some improvisations of Turkish, Iraqi, Kurdish and Egyptian music. Very beautiful. He tunes his violin differently for some of the pieces. He says there are 64 or more scales from different countries and villages, more or less modes with different quarter tones -- not something we understand or use in western music. We only divide pitches in halves. Then what was really news to me was an explanation of the difference in quarter tones from different countries: lower and sadder in Egypt, higher and brighter in Turkey and so on. Then mandatory photo time with everyone, one at a time. Hamid has been drinking beer and Raksi this entire time.

Then Nagat insists on driving me home. I say a cab would be fine, but he says that while I'd most likely be safe he wants to be sure. We are not that far from Mosul and I don’t know the way to the hotel, so I wouldn't know if someone took off in another direction wanting to make some money. Nagat and another big guy take me to his big white beautiful Mercedes. I'm shocked. Apparently he has some kind of cultural ministry job in Suly. He says he has four jobs.

We pass by a big new mosque, which I mention is really beautiful. He says it is but they don't want it. They want theaters and libraries and galleries. He studied in Poland for five years, has lived in Paris and Denmark, has Danish citizenship, and has visited his wife's relatives in Nashville a couple of times. He knows a lot about music and is a good composer. We're playing one of his pieces with the Unity Orchestra. He says that people in the US that go to church believe what they're hearing for the most part but many here go to mosque and use it to do “terrible things.” I'm not sure everyone here would agree with him, but I've seen no one at this festival praying and very few women with covered heads. Musicians are the same everywhere.

“The Perfect Storm” is on TV tonight. Terrible movie.

Day 6
The van with the AC is back. Great!

I am sitting next to Akhmed in the orchestra. He wants help with scales, arpeggios, needs new bridge, strings, etc. Fortunately we have enough for everyone.

I have lunch with Bzhwen, his sister (who looks just like Marin Alsop), and the concertmaster from Suly. He asks if I could come to Suly for a year or more to teach. That would be interesting. Sounds like Suly is smaller than Erbil but nicer in some ways, more separate from the rest of Iraq and more different/independent.

Gene Aitken, one of the jazz teachers, talks about his work as Director of the Conservatory in Singapore and what a beautiful but expensive country/city that is -- really more of a large corporation run by one family, no crime or poverty. He used to teach in Colorado, is in the Jazz Educators Hall of Fame, and now lives in Bangkok with his wife and loves it there.

Another violinist from Baghdad plays more Iraqi music for me from a small village, different from what I heard last night. I have to get it on video later.

We go through the first movement of the Dvorak Serenade with the Suly Orchestra, Demetrius [Fuller] conducting. The rehearsal goes OK, but there are problems with rhythm. When I play it for them, with them, and count it for them, they nod but don't hear the difference and still play it the wrong way. It makes me feel at a loss as a teacher but they don't have the training to hear subtle differences or the technique to make those differences happen, but it gets better after much repetition.

The Vivaldi concerto goes well. More people keep joining the orchestra so I have to say, no more. Everyone just wants to play or listen. They're not even demanding to be paid more, incredible.

Then some of them want me to listen to them play a Mozart Piano Quartet with the Czech lady. No one speaks English in this group so I look like Marcel Marceau explaining how to play together and communicate, sort of the same thing while playing.

Then Payan wants help with the Vivaldi orchestra part and Bzhwen does more of “Spring” till the building closes. He's struggling with it but works hard, goes back to the hotel to practice each night.

Julio is an interpreter from Columbia, living here and working towards citizenship because he likes it here so much. He drives Bzhwen, Payan and me back to my hotel for dinner and we join some of the other Americans. It's still hard to talk with Bzhwen and Payan, but they're charming and funny. Everyone enjoys them.

Then big confusion with the checks. Separate checks are an ordeal tonight apparently, charging everyone's drinks on one person's bill for example, but we work it out after 30 minutes and five or six different waiters.