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In 2006-7 I grew up. I needed a job. I reviewed the website musicalchairs.info daily and finally stumbled upon something that I was ecstatic to apply for and do: conducting two orchestras, 1 choir, and teaching violin and flute all in 1 place - the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music. I didn't look at the flag, and applied. When I got the job, I realised that I would be moving to Pa. les tine. I was 25 years old. That was the year that I grew up and lost my stupid American naiveté.
In these series of blog posts I'll be sharing the email updates that I sent to my friends, family, and colleagues at the time. March 4 2007, Update 8: Dear All, the time is flying and March is already here. . . wow, and of course a new month means a new update!! Today the Int/Adv orchestra and I finished the final orchestra camp in Birzeit before we head off to a tour to Dubai on Friday. The whole Conservatory is buzzing with excitement, and of course everybody wants to go. Actually, the fact that the orchestra is going is due to a blessed mistake! The sponsors had requested classical and Arabic music, and said that they could bring 15 musicians. The conservatory arranged for chamber music and soloists, but then the director got the fatal call the Dubai sponsors and audience were expecting an orchestra, and would cancel the whole occasion unless an orchestra was sent. (strange for them to think that 15 people could constitute an orchestra?). Anyways, Suhail, by boss and director, called me into his office and with rings under his eyes and with an exhausted and quasi helpless sigh explained the situation and asked if it would be at all possible to manage to pull this one off.. OF COURSE!! I love the impossible challenge! Not only, but I put another “impossible” on top of the first impossible by saying that the orchestra should not only play it’s old rep, but also the new project, Beethoven 5. The kids ATE it up! There was practicing like you wouldn’t believe, especially since the places to go to Dubai were limited (now to a healthier number of 40) and therefore competition was driving flying fingers and screaming bows. So after two intensive weekend orchestra camps, we are ready to go with Beethoven 5, Schubert 8, and some other small pieces! As I get more opportunities to conduct and rehearse, my teachers words are haunting my dreams and thoughts as I examine and re-examine what I am doing with these kids. The more you do it, the more you realize that conducting is not only music, but also conducting mentalities, mindsets, trying to mend this relation here and there, stoke some spark of imagination or energy in this mind or that, give confidence to the doubtful, snap the whip at the lazy, all at the same time as being a dual subject of hatred or admiration. And trying all the time to keep the footing on some level of respect and discipline needed to produce a productive rehearsal and a happy orchestra. It’s not only the kids minds that I deal with . . it is also the teachers of the kids. Those who study with teachers involved directly with the orchestra excel and have great attitudes, and those who study with teachers with noses in the air towards orchestra only THINK they are adequate, but in fact are dragging the group down . . it’s all one mental game! Back to the grand old Ramallah, a little bit of everyday life. Fridays SUCK traveling. Friday is the big prayer day for Muslims, many of whom want to travel to Jerusalem to pray. This means that Kalandia is quite busy and stormy . . usually by the middle of the day there is some kind of riot, small or large, and the last 3 weeks have been upsetting with the road into Kalandia closed by Israeli jeeps chasing after Palestinian youths. Explosions, guns . . . what a mess. It sounds very dramatic, and the first time I had to go through it, my heart was pounding and I want to return to Jerusalem pronto. But the line of traffic of course always finds a way around the danger and life and business goes on in the midst of chaos, so upon the friendly reassurance of a bus driver I know, I got into a Service going through the refugee camp, and was fine getting back to my next rehearsal in Ramallah. Drama is normal . . I think people need drama anyways. If it’s not openly displayed like in cases here, then people make up soap operas anyways in compensation. I need drama. One of my older students told me I’d should be an actress, that I’d really succeed, and I told her my mom was one. She wasn’t surprised. Well, if conducting fails, I can always then turn this new course of life upon the healthy recommendation of a 22 year old beginning violinist. Before other mundane things can be mentioned, I might share a thought that came to me the other day of what Palestine is doing to my brain. You remember those commercials with the egg and the whole egg versus the fried and then the head line, “this is your brain, this is your brain on drugs?” Well, let’s say that my brain before Palestine was an egg depleted of calcium, with therefore a very soft weak shell, ready to crack at the minutest chink. (not so really, but in comparison this works). And now, my brain is the inside of the egg still, but the shell has become this massive iron clad suite of armour impervious to bullshit, taxi drivers, honks, shitty remarks from men on the streets, rude choir members, and retarded actions from anybody who interferes with my work and life. This is Hebe’s brain. This is Hebe’s brain on Palestine. Ha, getting on with other features of life. My goodness I never thought this country could be green! When I first moved here it was all yellow and white and some light brown interspersed with some dirt colored olive trees, trash, and sheep. I was thirsty for green, fresh pine, snow, lakes, mountains, grass, bluebells, give me the Alps PLEASE! But, hey, it’s totally completely green now. YES! When I went to Amman in Jordan to renew my visa, the countryside was so strangely a combination of my places I’ve been, a sort of mix between the Palestine hills I know by now, the Mexican plantations I saw as a child in Ixtapa, and GREENness. Speaking of Amman, it’s the Los Angeles of the Middle East. You’ll see lots of Kentucky Fried Chicken, chique salad bars, and very modern but somewhat materialistic people. Anyways, one the way back, first the Jordanian soldiers gave me trouble because the Israeli soldier on the way out had stamped the wrong passport, so the Jordan visa was in one passport, and the stamp in the other. It took at least 5 of them shouting at each other and frowning at me for a while for them to decide to let me pass. Then, when I went to enter Israel again, the Israeli soldiers asked to speak with my alibi. So I called my friend very fast when I they put me in the waiting room, so that he was prepared for their call. Immediately when he started speaking to them, he told me that he didn’t give them a chance to speak, that he was very insistent that I had to come back to Israel, that I needed to be there for a long time, that I was VERY famous, and VERY Zionist. I was ushered through with courtesy. I had no idea what was going on or what in the world he had told them to get me through like that. This is Hebe’s brain on Palestine. Iron eggshell. Other trite little things, I love going to the healthclub still, especially to see my dear friend Katya everyday (the sweet Russian mafia ballerina insistent on abdomen exercises), and she’s gotten my flexibility to the point that my brain flew with joy upon realizing that one day I was doing the splits! Next thing you know I’ll have given up conducting, my new profession of acting, and instead I’ll join Cirque du Soleil as the Iron Egg contortion artist. I wish you all well and I’ll try to make my orchestra play with such an extreme amount of bow and resonance that the air waves from our Dubai concerts reach you all over the waters. Update 10: I started this email differently, and very negatively, but I rethought and let me start afresh. Spring is here!! That’s a good thought. Let’s start with something funny. Since I’m preparing to do a Haydn Symphony with the orchestra, I’ve been reading a book about Baroque string technique, and one of the first things it says in bold letters is “Inequality is ok”. Me with my narrow mind naturally was on the music track, but during a rehearsal with 5 of my advanced kids joining the Mozart Requiem performance with the Choir of London, I shared this excerpt of the book with them to apply it to a particular passage. One of the cellists, a hilarious and hip girl named Duja, immediately blurted out, “racists”. I almost split my sides with laughter. It’s true . . such early music was based on “racism” . . inequality in everything!! Beats, sound production, temperment (tuning), timbre, vibrato usage, harmonic hierarchy, phrasing. And as human rights became more hotly demanded . . music answered with the “democracy” of sound structure to the point where Schoenberg announced that all pitches were equal! Way to let completely go of the tonal system. Is a system better? Or does it instill/uphold racist tendencies? Well, anyways, I’m glad I have a Duja to remind me that I should keep thinking rather than accept and live blindly with the information around me. Lets find another funny thought . . I’m learning the cello!! I guess the actuality of it is not so funny, it’s really amazing. . I should have done this a LONG time ago, it is miles and miles better than the violin. So now my fingers are stretching so completely out that between the viola and the cello, when I practice violin it feels like a tiny insignificant (high pitched) little toy. They funny part comes that the first week my room was nicknamed the cowpen for all of the mooing that emitted from my cello. Well . . . you always need to wade through the shit before you start walking on grass, and luckily I got through the beginning phases. I’m proud to say I’m already at Grade 4 in 2 weeks!! My cello kids are stressing with the competition ☺. Other news: the Choir of London is here on a massive rampage to demonstrate to the world what they are proud to call the Palestine Mozart Festival. Some teachers of the Conservatory (Emma-clarinet, Lasse-piano, Bettina-cello, Gennady-horn, and I-flute and viola) played an enormously satisfying chamber concert for the benefit of the Choir of London’s pocket-book as part of the Festival, . . but we were glad to do so and especially for the opportunity to perform so much Mozart for a good cause. In addition, my own Jerusalem Chorus and 5 little kids from my orchestra joined the CoL in a performance of the beautiful Ave Verum Corpus yesterday at the Friends Boy’s School (at which girls attend as well?!) . . and amidst all of my ups and downs in the last few months, those 6 minutes (we did it twice) of conducting brought all my heart and love for the profession back again. What a magnificent thing . . beautiful voices revering one of the last compositions of my favorite composer . . life excels possibility so rarely! In addition, most of the teachers of the Conservatory plus some of my students and choir will perform the Requiem next week. I’m working furiously on intonation with my kids, but there are some that simply don’t have the sound in their ears. It’s understandable considering the tonal system is a system and if it is not installed initially, it is very hard to expect anything of quality to happen reasonably. So in compensation my CD burner is smoking and puffing with overtime work so that I stock their ears with anything I think might start their intonation engines working . . by now my entire beginning orchestra has the Brahms Symphony 1 (we’re playing a theme from it) and I’m hoping that this will spark some realization. The one cellist that has the biggest problem (she’s 8 years old I think?) also constantly answers with the Arabic yes. This means that if I correct her, or ask her if she knows where we are starting, or tell her F#, not F natural, or talk about time signatures, etc etc , .. she always nods vigorously yes and with lots of conviction in her eyes . . but she actually has no idea what I’m talking about and so she really means no. That’s another really funny topic that ALL foreigners find exasperating upon coming to this part of the world. When Arab Palestinians say no, they don’t do anything except raise their eyebrows. The other option is to give a very subtle click of the tongue while raising the eyebrows. It’s hilarious if you know about it, but frustrating to no end if you have no idea what is going on. But it’s so engrained in the culture to look for this slight miniscule sign, that even if a taxi passes you at 40 miles an hour, and honks to see if you need a ride, you can do this very little movement of the eyebrows and he will immediately know that you prefer to walk. Not that they always stop if you do happen to need a ride. . the other day I was walking home at 12pm at night in the cold horrible fog and far from home and upset, and I very obviously needed one, and two drove past honking and then sped off with glee. . . grrrrrr. So basically employing Murphy’s laws and applying them to taxis . . when you don’t need them they are like mosquitos buzzing around you, and when you really need them, they are totally absent or intentionally unavailable. April!! The end is near… phew. I’m sick of Palestine. What a statement!!! The sun is shining, the flowers are blooming, the sheep are baaing, the cats are kittening, and the boys are ANNOYING. As a foreigner, and one that sticks out considerably for being female, tall, and usually unwilling to acknowledge anybody or anything on the street, I feel like a real minority harassed by disgusting men and stupid boys. Sexual harassment laws (or any laws, for that matter) are still not quite in place (and it is doubtful they ever will be) and in consequence I wish I could hurl daggers out of my ears (rather than having to look at them) and burn every one of their irises with poison and lasers. Sounds very dramatic . . and it is. Inside, I am fuming, steaming, boiling, gnashing, scalding and whatever else you prefer to add, with resentment, and yet I know from my childhood with my foster brother (not sexual harassment . . just bad behavior) that is better to ignore and pretend it isn’t happening rather to get outwardly angry and acknowledge it . . the outcome of course satisfying them and promoting more. I want to learn knife-throwing, karate, and bring a big ugly mean dog with me wherever I go and to guard my house (some dumb kid followed me home and made as if he was going to rob me the other day) . . and then I reprimand myself for these dumb thoughts. Why resort to violent thoughts? The usual fault of humanity under stress. Well, anyways, I make it sound more dramatic than it actually is. To be honest, there is an exponentially larger rate of crime in the States than there is here . . so I should just learn to thicken my tolerance level. That’s the little news from this end . . and I’m looking forward to July when I’ll finally be coming back to you all again. Yours always, Those who are following these posts -- this first one brought some needed laughter, but the second one shocked me to remember what happened. In the series -- I went not knowing anything, and I came out knowing too much. My time as a music teacher in Pa--
Dear All, Here is update 6, started on Jan 20. Well, my orchestra program at the conservatory, which started as a lame animal with 3 dysfunctional legs, suddenly grew a fourth, stood up straight, and ran like a racehorse to the finish of 3 concerts in which we performed the first mov't of Schubert's Unfinished Symphony among other things. This all happened after a 4 day orchestra camp in Birzeit where I was graced with the magnificent collaboration of S. B. from Germany as wind coach, and J. and P. (brass players) from Germany and Sweden. The concerts were on Jan 8, 9, and 10 in Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and Ramallah, respectively, and although of course permits and other crap hindered (mostly administrative blunders) some details of the performances and rehearsals, in all it was a great success that we are all very proud of, and I am motivated to create an even greater concert this spring. . . on the list of repertoire is Beethoven 5, first mov't, and some other pieces I arranged such as Chiqulin de Bachin, la Donna e Mobile, and Summertime. Ramallah in general is still damn cold, but I think in all respects things are warming up .. and all parts of life are going to become better. The rain is falling like mad today and rivers are running down the streets, but at least the 4 days before showed some abatement of the creeping cold. People are talking now, administrations are sorting out their differences (including my own conservatory, which has it’s own lion’s share), and I think things can only look up from here. I have become a much more aggressive, strong, and insistent person from my whole Palestine experience. . can you believe I could have surpassed what I was before!! Take last week for instance. I traveled from Ramallah to Bethlehem with two of my Ramallah kids and one Jerusalem. This takes forever, first a service out of Ramallah, then a bus to Jerusalem Old City, then another bus to Bethlehem checkpoint, then a taxi to Beit Sahour where the Bethlehem conservatory is. Well, in any case, of course the Kalandia checkpoint was slow etc, and so by the time me and these kids get to Bethlehem checkpoint, 2 hours have gone by and we’re exhausted. So then when we get there, the soldier who is unconcernedly talking on the phone while filing her nails, refuses to let them through (these are 10-12 year olds) because if they don’t live or work in Bethlehem they can’t go in (even though they're Palestinians). I told her this was not acceptable, that I had a whole orchestra waiting for me, that these kids belonged with the orchestra, and that I definitely could not do without my bass player, and that we had already been traveling for two hours. She said if she was the captain, she would let me through. So, I said, fine, let me speak with the captain. Ok, she said he was coming, five minutes later he was still not there. So I asked her, was he coming now, or next year, or in 5 years? He came, I said that I definitely could not do without my bass player, and he let us through. I ARGUED WITH A CAPTAIN! My triumph for the week. The point is not my triumph, actually, my point is that this country makes people aggressive, rude, strong, insistent. I now know why the old ladies push on their way through the checkpoint and on the bus. I now know why people honk like mad when there is a traffic jam. We simply don’t have patience for the unnecessary, since there is so much enforced unnecessary hindrances. If it had been me in September with these kids we would have headed back, wasted our day with travel, and not gained anything except down-trodden bitterness. Well, instead we had our small triumph, if it means anything. It means the captain has a good heart, it means that walls aren’t everything, that humanity can soften the cement to let a young bass player attempt to play tango with 8 other kiddies. Tonight there were two “opera” singers and a Greek pianist who “graced” our Ramallah Cultural Center stage with a shoddy performance of famous arias and musical theater pieces. The concert was strangely advertised as a piano concert with accompaniment of singers . . a sign I should have well heeded. The tenor sang with an apple in his mouth (or so it seemed) and had absolutely no sense of diction, in whatever language he was singing. In fact, it didn’t even matter what the language was, it all sounded like one stuffed up drone. His real finesse lay in the musical theater, in which his dramatic acting was definitely the highest point of his performance. The soprano was ok, and also seemed more at home singing Show Boat than La Traviata. And her high C at the end of Boheme’s first act was pretty good, although I’m glad I couldn’t see how she must have had to contort her face to get it, because of course both her and Rodolfo are off stage for those last blessed notes. The tenor’s name was Coke, and let me tell you, when they sang the last encore from the Fledermaus, he must have snorted some before coming on stage. I shouldn’t be so harsh .. but just because we’re in Palestine doesn’t mean we don’t have standards here!! People can’t just come here to use our stage as practice venues for performances that they would never be allowed to do in other places! Enough frustration. There are so many fantastic things here it would be stupid to dwell on the bad. Fantastic number one: it snowed here!! And the Palestinians revelled in it. Fantastic number two: we got a new Swedish pianist that temporarily joined the faculty, and we are planning a whole chamber music concert with him . . finally an opportunity to perform! Fantastic number three: the health club I’m part of has a Russian ballerina fitness trainer who has made it her personal goal to get me into shape and teach me ballet. She’s pretty intense . . insists on abdomen training every day. That’s pretty much the one muscle that I don’t seem to have. We’ve decided to do our training with Tchaikovsky and other classical ballet composers as a nice relief from techno aerobic music. Fantastic number 4, living in Palestine is like having a humungous family in which everybody takes care of everybody. Take care all and I wish you a thousand good thoughts from across the miles. Update 7, Feb 11, 2007: Walla, (very satisfying Arabic expression), it’s February and there are so many exciting, terrible, promising, hopeless things to tell about my (and others) little life in Ramallah. Do you remember that I said . . things are getting warmer .. it looks like organisations are talking, and things can only look up from here? I was slightly mistaken. As I thought we were at the lowest point and that out of default we could only go up, things miraculously got worse. On a personal level, the Conservatory almost brought me to the point of quitting due to some administrative blunders/actions regarding the orchestra and other things. Without details, and with a current sense of relief I now happily spread the news that within the last 3 days things have turned remarkably for the better . . which I will get to later. Anyways, outside of my egotistical little sphere but yet still relating to me: 1. A man who came to the healthclub every morning, and was best friends with one of my own friends, and in fact had participated in a jolly game of Pictionary (the best game on EARTH!!) at my house, was shot in the head by the Israelis. They were undercover in Ramallah and were trying to stoke a conflict between the two rival factions by dressing as Hamas soldiers, which made a Fatah security commander nervous, and when he called his extra guard (which Khaldoun was part of), for some reason shooting broke out. My friend was devastated, as was pretty much everybody around me (he was a person very much respected by many people in Ramallah). 2. So, after my friend lost her best friend, she then lost (day before yesterday) one of her former piano students in a gas station explosion also near Ramallah. On top of that, the very day that Fatah and Hamas agreed on a unity government, the Israelis provoked the entire Muslim world by digging beneath the third most holy site for Islam, the Al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem, under the pretext that some ramp needed renewal. Hence, there was massive rioting in Jerusalem, and of course this affects the entire West Bank, because security was heightened, which froze the checkpoint at Kalandia, of course causing more rioting from Palestians insistent on traveling to Jerusalem . . . So between illegal murders, explosions due to carelessness and stupidity, administrative blunders, funerals, provocation and rioting, the end result has been (for me) that I have been on permanent “vacation” for at least a week now that everything that I had in my calendar was cancelled. And so, you see, when you hit bottom, you can always dig more (beneath holy sites, at that) to hit the next bottom. Sorry for the pessimism. I’m really not negative at this time, to be honest, because heek iddinya (you remember?? –“such is life”). And things now really ARE looking up. My orchestra is suddenly doing fantastic!! Now that we have a very strong administrative grip on the whole project, thanks to the departure of a tired and disorganised lady and the subsequent arrival of a young positive and energetic Mohammad Maragha, the students are responding with much better progress. The policy regarding practicing and attendance that they signed, and a month long trial period imposed by me (determining staying in the orchestra, or moving back to beginning orchestra) is creating competition and motivation to practice their music (!!! What a CONCEPT!!!), be extremely attentive during rehearsal, and take tardiness seriously. Not only that, but we have a substantial amount of Birzeit camps planned for this semester, and that is where we really make the most progress. For the advanced/intermediate orchestra we have several projects; some of them are playing the Mozart Requiem with the choir of London, and they all are playing the first mov’t of Beethoven 5. Also some smaller pieces, . . and I think after the Beethoven we will feed ourselves the veggies of orchestra .. a nice Haydn Symphony mov’t. . probably 44. About the other things . . they are terrible. Shock numbs the soul. It becomes something that you begin to think of as “heek iddinya” . . because there is too much to plague you pysche with remorse and sadness and regret and anger and negativity. Maybe sometimes the only solution to big problems is a substantial shock and blow. Maybe for humanity that’s the only thing that brings us to action, conflict, and later, reconciliation. Brings us to reflection as well. My friend talked to me a lot during the last week about her grief and disbelief, and her questioning of everything, including the will herself to continue living. And she said you can only understand when it happens to you . . you can only sympathise completely with another’s pain when you feel it directly yourself. She was referring to all of the Palestinian women that she has seen on the news weeping over lost loved ones . . Speaking of lost loved ones, I lost both of my cats. One was stolen by the street boys, and the other I think was terrorised by the bully cats in the neighbourhood. I’m not going to do the whole saving the cats from the humane shelter again. Expensive and sad. Palestine is not made for having cats . . you should keep them inside if you have them (I refuse, totally terrible for an animal), or you should realise that outside they must be the smartest, toughest, (dirty) buggers to claim their fame in the survival of the fittest. Maybe I’ll get a bird . . . . . . NOT. Regarding music, I think that for some strange reason, what you would think to be a very far location regarding classical music, Ramallah is actually doing me some good?! I’m learning so much about what is fundamental to music when I teach my choir and my orchestra. Intervals especially. Breathing!! Playing an instrument or singing is like exercise, without oxygen you completely unwittingly fail. And also, I’m getting all these crazy opportunities to perform on every single instrument that I play: violin, viola, flute, singing, and even piano!! My piano chops thank goodness are improving, and I’m accompanying many of my students on their exam pieces and also on audition tapes for abroad. . plus I love practicing La Traviata in the morning with a CD to accompany a virtual Sutherland, . Callas. I’ve found the funniest methods to stretch the brain, . . try sight singing Isolde from Tristan and Isolde first act at tempo with a very old recording where the tonality (if discernable) is hard to hear. Walla, (lots of emphasis on the “W”) you find strange pastimes when you get to make them up yourself! Well, anyways, let’s all get ready for a tremendous Valentines’ day with lots of virtual hugs and benevolent thoughts. Forget the material presents, let’s just all get along and be friends!! Walla!!! Many regards . . I hope the sun and the moon smile down on you in peace! This last weekend I sang in a production of Beethoven 9th Symphony with Phion and Cappella Amsterdam, soloists Andre Morsch, Barbara Kozelj, Aylin Sezer, Marcel Reijans.
It is a piece that cannot fail to win the public. The sheer compositional genius of the 4th movement conclusion will send the audience to their feet, and a professional ensemble will make sure that it stays together and that intonation is cared for, despite the leadership and inconsistenties of the score. The vocal writing is reputedly unfortunate - too high for extended periods of time for the sopranos and tenors, too low to make any volume during the crucial passages for the altos. Phion is a modern orchestra, and even with highly trained voices of Cappella, balance was still an issue. In Enschede, where these photos were taken, the podium had a tiered setup with more extreme height differences, which helped balance immensely. I found it difficult to sing with full joy and passion, as I had in May, considering the terrible humanitarian situation in Gaza that is unfolding before our very eyes. It feels hypocritical to the extreme to be singing about brotherhood when we in the West are so guilty of trampling on peace and brotherhood in the centuries of colonialism preceding. I looked upon the audience wondering what this performance brought to them. In 2006-7 I grew up. I needed a job. I reviewed the website musicalchairs.info daily and finally stumbled upon something that I was ecstatic to apply for and do: conducting two orchestras, 1 choir, and teaching violin and flute all in 1 place - the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music. I didn't look at the flag, and applied. When I got the job, I realised that I would be moving to Pa. les tine. I was 25 years old. That was the year that I grew up and lost my stupid American naiveté.
In these series of blog posts I'll be sharing the email updates that I sent to my friends, family, and colleagues at the time. Dec 8. 2006: • Here it comes . . update #4!! Well, “my brain is flying” with all sorts of thoughts and observations of my still new home, and here is a sort of mumble jumbled organisation of these thoughts. Let’s start off with some funny Arabic expressions to laugh a little before the more serious schiesse is thrown at the fan. o Expression #1, “Bukra fi’il mishmesh” (tomorrow in the apricot) or . . when hell freezes over: said when the taxi driver demands too much money for the fare o Expression #2, “Kullna fi lhawa sawa” (we are all in love together) or . . we are all in the same boat: general term for this “situation” that we’re all in. I guess we think in terms of boats in America, but the Palestinians have their minds on love. o Expression #3, “qahwe daayme” (coffee always) explanation needed?! o Expression 4 MY FAVORITE, makes me think of the movie Shrek: “yoom 9asal, uwyoom basal” (the 9 is a low a vowel that we don’t have in the US) -- one day is honey, and one day is onion. o The last one, which I think is simply hilarious if you endorse mental imagery: “9aqlo taar” (his brain flew) or, . . he went crazy. • Palestine, Palestine. Things are going well here, and each day brings me more security and happiness, thank goodness. My beginner orchestra is showing serious signs of improvement . . they sight read some music today with generally good intonation and rhythm which they would have viewed with ultimate suspicion and incomprehension at the beginning of the year. We also are creating some kind of special “Hebe and Orchestra” language which includes all sorts of funny expressions that have a history of development. For instance, “tutti tutti” was repeated so much that it became old and therefore turned into “tutti frutti” and now has progressed to “tutti schmutti”. The word “upbow” finally has been drilled into their brains that they must start at the tip, and if anybody doesn’t it results in some annoyed but funny Arabic commentary from the faster ones. I pulled a few special ones out of the big group to form a smaller chamber ensemble . . . the first piece we are playing (me with them as first violin) is a rather trite Tango, but a very good beginning piece that finally is getting them to use their bow in the lower half!! So this is also part of our new dictionary, as I refer to these kids as either the “tangos” or the “tangers.” Every week I do a listening quiz where I give out 4 cds and a sheet of questions and whoever emails me first with the right answers gets a prize the next week (candy of course). . and I’ve found to my unsurprised luck that candy is a wonderful incentive and disciplinarian device. And finally concerning this crazy and wonderful kids, I’ve decided that my new goal in life should be to bulldoze enough brains around here to eventually have an orchestra that can play a Beethoven symphony (well)!! At first I was rather depressed with the level here, but the talent that is progressing here now is inspiring and I am looking forward forming a part of their musical learning process. • • Every time I go through a checkpoint now (especially at Kalandia) I have to do something to pass the time . . either take out my Ipod or read a book, or daydream which takes me to thought-land. . . • The other day my thought-land made a disturbing but for me accurate observation. You see, the lines you wait in at Kalandia or any other checkpoint are actually much better and faster than the lines that you might encounter at say . . Great America, Disneyland, or for the Europeans, de Efteling. When we go to an “amusement” park, we wait in absolutely horrendous lines in order to be thrown around, spun, tossed and dropped until at least 50% suppress a nastily real urge to vomit. And then most of us run like crazy people in order to do it again. So why is waiting for an unknown period of time (sometimes 10 minutes, sometimes 1 hour, sometimes 2 hours) at a checkpoint where all is required is to wait, show a passport and check your baggage through a machine (if you are not questioned) so bad? I guess the main issue is freedom of choice. And fear of the other. From both sides. • • On a happy note, all of the 5 boxes that I sent from Indiana with at least 15 years of scores and music arrived safely to Jerusalem without any trouble of inspection. It’s strange to think this way . . but in fact a large portion of my brain is stored in those very pages . . my first score markings in the Beethoven symphonies and Brahms symphonies. . those red and grey pencil scratches and blotches contain a wealth of synapses. In 2006-2007 I grew up. Before that year, I had finished my Masters in Instrumental Conducting after a Bachelors in Violin, and had just finished a 6 month self-organised opera project Maria de Buenos Aires. I needed a job. I reviewed the website musicalchairs.info daily and finally stumbled upon something that I was ecstatic to apply for and do: conducting two orchestras, 1 choir, and teaching violin and flute all in 1 place - the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music. I didn't look at the flag, and applied. When I got the job, I realised that I would be moving to Pa. les tine. I was 25 years old. That was the year that I grew up and lost my stupid American naiveté.
In these series of blog posts I'll be sharing the email updates that I sent to my friends, family, and colleagues at the time. Here is my update #2 Sent November 11, 2006 from Ram)ll-h, Pa. le.s. t i... n. Contrary to what many people think about how hot and warm the Middle East is .. it gets very very cold here! I read some article describing Benjamin’s Ceremony of Carols, and how the words were describing the freezing winter night of Christ’s birth . and how this reflected rather a freezing England night rather than the “balmy Bethlehem comfortable night.” Balmy???!! Have some winter jackets and thermal underwear handy for a visit here! Ah . . Ram)ll-h. So let’s start with the general situation: today there was a recognition of Arafat’s one year anniversary of his death, and so there was many youths (many from the refugee camps surrounding R) parading on the streets wearing black and white checkered attire and proudly waving the Pal... flag. There was a huge picture of Arafat hanging from the statue in the middle of Manara square (the picture that I sent out last time), a large amount of inconvenient traffic due to the fact that the main streets through town were closed, and general patriotic rallying and demonstrations. Life as usual in R. You see, that is the thing . . daily life here is a demonstration. There is always some kind of holiday to be aware of, to celebrate, to honor the dead, to mourn the loss of life due to political conflict, weddings, . . you name it, almost every day has significance in this land. On top of that, the community is actually very small, and so unification is not only possible, but mandatory. People cannot afford to disgrace, act against, or fight their society. Yes, there are factions (H and F),. . . but they come together to form one single entity which they are struggling to uphold and to proudly do so . . Pa l..e.s.ti..ne. The small size of the community also means (for me) that nobody is really expendable. . every person is important. In the west we have the bad habit, perhaps a spoiled luxury, of being able to rely on competition . .”ok, if you can’t do this, then don’t worry, we’ll let you go and find somebody better to do this job”. For music, at least, I really do not have this luxury here. Every single student I have, whether it be the oldest member of my choir to the youngest beginning violin student, is important. They are the only prized means of expression not only for me as a conductor, but also for their own purely Palestinian community. If they cannot meet the challenge, there really is nobody else to take their place. . and so instead of giving up, we MUST find a way to overcome the hurdles!. It is really a challenge for me and for them to bring them all to a unified level at which we can present something of worthy of pride and respect . . and yet I think the outcome will be fantastic for all (including the audience) for the main reason that the energy that they put into this is willing and positive energy rather than reluctance or irritation or frustration. As one example, I have a man in my choir who came in not reading a single note of music, and not being able at all do distinguish one note from another. Not only that, but because he was struggling to sing different notes, he acquired the bad habit of jutting his chin out to get them and therefore really tensed up his neck muscles. Tonight, after 1 ½ hours of work with him, he sang an entire major scale, all the intervals, and then by the end sung the first page of the Mozart Credo mov’t that we are doing which included octave jumps, diminished triads, and half steps. I never thought that changing a note to the correct pitch could give me such relief!!!! In the States .. I doubt if I would have ever considered working with such meager musical ability . . and yet, it is only a situation such as this one where you find that ANYTHING is possible. “Maria de Buenos Aires”, a project that I did earlier this year, proved this to me .. but Pal.. is really solidifying this to be not only an idea, but a fact. If you remember in my last email, I said a few things about the taxi drivers here and I think I’ll continue this subject. There is a whole honking language in Palestine. Between the Arab buses, which are small (about 20 people), very convenient, and helpful (I pretty much know and recognise all the drivers by now from Jerusalem to Ra..) there is the “hello” “HEY!! How are you!” “Get out of the way” “there are problems ahead” “MOVE!!!!!!!” honks. The taxis are really bad, . . . constantly giving reminder honks, “hey, you, you need a ride?” The worst is the unemployed and testosterone overflowing youths in their cars who find nothing more interesting to do than to piss off foreign girls walking on the street (me) by honking obscenely at them and saying some kind of lewd comment. And so you get this whole slew of honks . . each one meaning something in a variety of situations to the point where a dictionary of honking could be useful to the foreign visiter! About driving. There are no real laws of driving in P. Which in my opinion, makes people much better and smarter drivers. They are all completely unwilling to deal with slow, stupid, careful drivers, and mostly, with traffic jams. The result is that traffic usually doesn’t exist, and if it does, there is such a horrific chorus of honking and yelling that the jam breaks up at least 10 times faster than I have seen anywhere in the States and in Europe. So, Ramadan is now over. At night, the city has returned to normal. . not too many people about, and the restaurants are open during the day and the bars at night. Speaking of which, in Manara square an enterprising young man, former employee of the infamous Starbucks in New York, opened his own version . . Star n Bucks. The sign looks the same, the inside as well. . (he also has a degree in Graphic Design. . comes in handy!) but the menu is much expanded, the music better, and it doubles as a bar at night. Absolutely hilarious to see such a blatant copy . . again, only in P!! About politics I would rather not speak. “The situation” as people talk about, is always difficult, and it seems to be coming to another height of tensions with the recent events in Gaza. But we must not forget that people are people everywhere in the world. Governments are not made of machines, but of living human beings with emotions, needs and souls. Once governments can deal with each other with human sympathy as well as the mechanical efficiency that goes along with management of their respective societies. . perhaps some kind of easing of tension will occur. In any case, I still live with real people who care for each other, breath good air and eat good food and try to encourage musical creation with people who are motivated to do so. “Heek iddinya” ---- Arabic for “such is life” 3rd Update Nov 2006 So much keeps happening . . I wish I could write updates everyday! The most recent news is that I am in Istanbul for a couple of days in order to renew my visa. I have never been to Turkey before, and of course I had a totally different conception of what it might be. This place is really beautiful (especially after living where I have been since Sept . .) and although the people are desperately pushy for tourist money to the point of real annoyance, atmosphere is a relief. It seems like Turkey as a whole is making a truly valiant and remarkable effort (at least, what I see in Istanbul) to impress the world (and the EU) with the beauty and worth of it's culture, land, and people. I'm staying very near the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia. The trip here was just awful. Every foreigner leaving Israel is subjected to massive amounts of unnecessary, stressful, and useless interrogation. All the luggage is emptied, picked apart, and examined. You are instructed to strip down to the minimum clothes so that they can check in detail for any metal or bombs on your person. The questioning is really the worst, because Israel really doesn't like ANY foreigner who comes to work, especially in Palestine. They will interrogate you endlessly to find any holes in your story. Stress central. What I really hate is that fact that I'm being attended to by at least 5 or 6 people (on top of this, at 4am) who are being paid well ... to do something unnerving and irrational, all under the bill of American tax-payers. YES!!!! I am paying for my OWN interrogation. This whole experience is really awful sometimes ... but on the other hand, I have a very good passport . . can you imagine just what it must be like for somebody with a Palestinian ID, or really any other disadvantaged country? In any case, it is ridiculous that it is taking the court system there so long to grant work permits for the Conservatory teachers (already YEARS into the process, apparently). Music is not terrorism. About more general things. In the US we have this system of food preparation that negates any realisation that the meat that we are eating is actually from an animal. Either you buy a nice clean package in the supermarket, or you buy a hamburger where a brown undefinable patty (really . . who knows how much soy meal they put in those) is hidden by rosy tomatoes and wilted lettuce and melted kraft singles . . if you are brave, you can even venture to buy a fresh whole trout. . . but usually the typical American family opts for canned tuna which is nicely transformed into a mix of mayo, pickles, and bread to hide it. On the other hand, in Palestine, when you go to a meat shop, there is generally three or four carcasses (goat, sheep . maybe cow) hanging in the shop window. Sometimes they have a hook with organs as well. Disconcerting at first. It's become normal to me now. PS I’m vegetarian. That's the meat situation .. . now vegetables are another. Fantastic. Real. They taste like something. Eggplant with garlic and little cherry tomatoes, squash, peppers . . . hmmmmmm. The people change with the seasons in Palestine. Not them themselves, but their attitude and way of life. In the winter things are much less aggressive. The streets are quieter now that it is colder and it gets darker sooner. People drink "qahwe" together in the streets (coffee,. . a VERY important drink here) from plastic cups from the little vendors, plus they eat steaming broadbeans and corn in the evening after prayer from roving vendors. My students are shaping up slowly. The beginning orchestra is now starting to play something that is recognisably Tchaikovsky, which they will perform in a few weeks, and the choir is singing better every time that we meet. That one bass I talked about still doesn't sing on pitch most of the time, but now we have an agreement that when he is really off and I hear it, I catch his eye and make a very small motion for him to cut out for a bit. In April the Choir of London will be coming to Palestine to do a series of Mozart concerts including the Magic Flute and the Requiem. I will be preparing the choir to perform with them in the Requiem, and this should really be a huge motivation for the choir members themselves. . to sing along side a European ensemble is really a big deal for them as I have gathered. Their inspiration for this opportunity makes me realise how damn LUCKY we are as western musicians in the US and Europe to have the opportunity to perform and rehearse together so easily and so often. Hugs and greetings from the wonderful dove-filled skies of Istanbul. In 2006-2007 I grew up. Before that year, I had finished my Masters in Instrumental Conducting after a Bachelors in Violin, and had just finished a 6 month self-organised opera project Maria de Buenos Aires. I needed a job. I reviewed the website musicalchairs.info daily and finally stumbled upon something that I was ecstatic to apply for and do: conducting two orchestras, 1 choir, and teaching violin and flute all in 1 place - the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music. I didn't look at the flag, and applied. When I got the job, I realised that I would be moving to Pa. les tine. I was 25 years old. That was the year that I grew up and lost my stupid American naiveté.
In these series of blog posts I'll be sharing the email updates that I sent to my friends, family, and colleagues at the time. UPDATE 1 - sent September 2006 Finally, here is the update of what is happening with me in Palestine! Sorry it has taken me so long . . Well, let’s start from the beginning. I arrived in Tel Aviv in this massive and very clean airport which probably has cameras in every corner with an extreme sense of not knowing what in the world I was doing, what was going to happen with me, and into what kind of mess I was getting myself into. But luckily, I stepped two steps out of the baggage claim, and was relieved to immediately see a nice young man holding a sign “Ms. Hebe.” And so, I was driven to a church/hotel where I spent the rest (4 hours) of the night, and the next morning BAM we had the big teachers meeting for the Conservatory year. I had totally not prepared, didn’t know what to expect, and was somewhat amused to see some of the older teachers with looks of extreme concern and worry and frustration on their faces, all which came out in the meeting. I made some obvious mistakes and assumptions about the conservatory which I am now paying for harshly, such as the level of the students, the participation of the teachers with the orchestra, and the organisation of the administration. Just like everything in life, things always happen better when you do whatever is needed yourself! However, I am getting much more acquainted with what exactly I need to do and why, and now the conservatory is realising how to give me the tools I need to get the job done, and so slowly I am able to build my network and try to make something that all the kids, their parents, and hopefully eventually Palestine can be proud of. I have a beginning orchestra of kids who at first were completely unruly and undisciplined and who had absolutely no concept of tempo. Must be my fault partly. They are now they are working diligently and even with motivation on a theme from Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique Symphony and some Gilbert and Sullivan. The Advanced Orchestra is a case of issues. There is such an extremely small pool of advanced students who are able to participate, and they all live in the 3 cities (Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and Ramallah), and so coordinating rehearsals keeping in mind holidays of 3 religions (Muslims, Christians, Jews), difficulties of getting across checkpoints, parents complaining about taking time away from school, and then their own lack of preparation, has made the rehearsal process thus far a NIGHTMARE. After changing the program several times (currently they are preparing several mov’ts of the Mozart C minor Mass, Bach Orchestra Suite #1, and we will do Schubert Unfinished), meeting with the parents, and myself coming to my own solution, now I am traveling to each city for individual lessons and sectionals with each musician every week, and then every month we will have retreats in Birzeit for a weekend where they will come together and play as an “orchestra.” Improvement has been drastic, . . some of them are extremely motivated, diligent, and intelligent, and those who have really put the time in with me have made me very proud and excited that they improve so exponentially. With all of the difficulties imposed by religious traditions (fasting in Ramadan), religious and political conflict and oppression, the drive of these kids when encouraged is amazing, and their curiousity and willingness to learn is wonderful, relieving, and definitely motivational for myself as well. Then comes my favourite group: the Jerusalem Chorus. . which actually has nothing currently to do with Jerusalem. I think in the past they were based there. . but then with the Israeli restriction of mov’t, and the fact that they were mostly a Ramallah based group, we now do all rehearsals and concerts in Ramallah. It is a completely amateur group, mostly 30-60 years old . . . at least 25% learn by ear rather than read . . and I simply LOVE the challenge and the joy of working with them. At first they were worse than my beginning orchestra on discipline. . they were used to being conducted by a marvelous old lady named Salwa who suffered/s from MS, and who obviously lacked the energy to keep this unruly group within bounds. They said they always started at least ½ hour late, there was a lot of talking and laughing all the time, and general good spirit without really paying attention to actually rehearsing and making a good quality musical product. They were there for fun. Now, Ha ha, I have come into the picture.. . . we still have fun! We start by having our fitness expert (one of the older men who teaches fitness at a school) do some stretching and exercises, then we do singing warm-ups .. and then we actually rehearse and learn the pieces . . something that I don’t think they were used to before . . matching vowels, dynamics, phrasing, . . and they are wonderful! Some of them can’t sing exactly on pitch yet, and the sopranos have trouble with the high notes, but with every week that passes, they are opening up more, and the pitch is eventually getting there . . our big success thus far is the Credo mov’t from the Mozart Mass, which they are beginning to sing with real life and good sound. Other than that we will sing some traditional Palestinian songs and some Christmas carols. And finally, I have many flute and violin students, all of whom make me extremely happy . . I never thought that I would want to be a teacher, but it is really a joy, . . especially teaching flute. I have one little girl, Nai (which means flute), who is ten years old and plays with a huge sound, with vibrato, and thus far has a very good natural sense of phrasing, . . we played a Bach piece the other day . . I accompanied her on the piano, and I was bursting with happiness at the end of the pieces . . to think that music so wonderful can come out of a great child, born amidst a chaotic world challenged by internal strife, political oppression, and difficulties at every turn . . and yet something so extremely beautiful, confident, and emotional was pushed and born into the air for a few minutes! At the conservatory, we have a crazy mixture of international teachers. . some of whom I really like, and others who I am now becoming to realise that I don’t want anything to do with them. Recently a wonderful flutist came to join the team, R- L-, who used to play with the Paul Winter group .. this lady is really great to talk to, work with, and learn from. I am extremely glad that I have a such a great teammate who has taken over my Ramallah flute students. Every which language is spoken within the teachers . . Russian, Dutch, French, Italian, Spanish, Hebrew, German . . what a mix. There is so much news that I should add about my experience just being in this place .. but there is no way to add all of it. My brain has been so trashed with emotions and experiences over the past month that I can’t even imagine from what mindset I came from. For the first month I was living in the Sawanee neighborhood in Jerusalem, on the side of the Mount of Olives. Tension central between creeping in Israeli neighborhoods and struggling Arab neighborhoods. I had to walk 40 minutes every day to go to the conservatory, and through a terrible neighborhood where the kids were the biggest problem. . kids that only understood parent’s frustration, soldiers with guns .. etc. Kids in Jerusalem especially have a problem because the teacher/student ratio becomes worse and worse, the teachers haven’t been paid in I think 8 months, and they get out of school at 1pm .. so from 1pm until 10, if their parents are working, they are making havoc on the streets. HOWEVER, I took the very smart initiative after a late night upsetting experience that caused my to bawl my head off (pent up emotions tend to build up within me and erupt for hours of crying once a year) for an entire night, and moved my butt to Ramallah, where I currently live in a fantastic one bedroom apartment overlooking a beautiful valley, and in a very good safe neighborhood. In one sense it was very good for me to live in Jerusalem . . the constant upset made music all the more worthwhile . . Now we get to some more issues . . . guns are omnipresent here. Soldiers at all checkpoints have huge guns. At least 70% of the Israeli soldiers that I see are small skinny women with perfect hair and guns that are at least ½ their size. Small kids play with plastic guns in the streets . . a real irritation to me. . . and the fact that these mothers buy this for their children . . Ramadan! What a month! All of the Muslims fast each day, and then they get together with family, friends at the “iftar” (breaking of the fast) to feast every night, then go the the Mosque and pray, and then more celebration. Every Friday, the Muslim day of rest, they try to go to Jerusalem to pray, and usually the Kalandia checkpoint is a complete mess of thousands of people who are not let through. Kalandia . . . the refugee camp between the checkpoint and Ramallah, where the road is simply DREADFUL .. full of pot holes and pits .. and although many international donors have offered funds to fix the road, it is an impossibility due to Israel zoning restrictions. Makes learning Arabic on the bus ride through the checkpoint an exercise of the eye muscles. When the bus gets to the checkpoint, you have to go out, walk to the pedestrian entrance, go to a stall type entrance, wait in a sort of cattle pen with the others with your visa ready to show, .. then when you are allowed to be checked, you put your bag in the x-ray machine, walk through the metal detector, usually get yelled at to show your id and visa, and then if all is well (once I bought a kitchen knife and left it in my bag by mistake. . BIG mistake) you can go through, walk out and step hopefully into the same bus you came on. The economy is hanging at very thin threads here .. people are extremely relieved and happy when they have a foreign renter . .. very glad to get the extra cash, and my landlady is an old spectacularly nice lady who really takes care of me. However, the lack of money flowing through makes people desperate for business. . . anytime I walk anywhere I immediately get many many honks from taxis .. and if I walk through a bunch of them, it’s a hilarious chorus of “taxi taxi taxi” . . imagine now an Arabic accent and the “i” very “eeeeee” with the voice going up considerably . . really a hilarious sound when in chorus, . .they should make a cell-phone ring out of it. Well . . it takes getting used to, but really, there is no danger here from the people themselves, even with the situation. Considering the lack of governmental oversight such as a court system, people have high moral standards stemming from cultural tradition, and therefore, I do not fear walking through the streets alone with my wallet and passport . . that being said, of course one must always be on guard. . but it is a much different guard then say the attention are care you have to have in an American city, where you know that theft is completely possible and inevitable if you don’t watch out. Living with the Arabs .. there is no better time in my life to experience this than now, and I’m not only learning a lot about things that never concerned me directly before, but I’m growing to appreciate and sympathise with a culture that before was completely foreign and unknown to me. Hard work pays off, but rarely immediately. One can get discouraged if the fruits of one's labor seems to echo in an empty valley.
And yet! I jumped mile high upon reading the email from La Maestra. I have been selected to participate in the 3rd edition in March of 2024 in Paris. Literally, a dream come true. I will be meeting one of my biggest current inspirations, Nathalie Stutzmann. It only took 42 years.. :) I'm proud of being the oldest contestant. Years of musicianship, of experiencing motherhood, the pains of life, the joys of life... they all have an impact on your path, your musicianship, and your future. I'm simply elated to make this next step in my career. |
Hebe de Champeauxconductor, mezzo-soprano, violinist, composer Archives
January 2025
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