29 lines
2 KiB
Markdown
29 lines
2 KiB
Markdown
**can**
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I am a member of a secret society. It has its own gospel in the form of a still evolving story, it is not yet written,
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that starts with Grandmother Czuckay exclaiming that she would not set foot upon MS Wilhelm Gustloff, since one can not walk on water,
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it has no boards. As the official history explains the ship was sunk by the Russians on january 30th 1945. And so they took the train to hannover
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where young Holger Schüring, that's his Dutch name, would grow up and found his love of music.
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He is of the same generation as the fictional composer Hermann Simon in Edgar Reitz' Heimat. Born out of the shadow of WWII, thoroughly educated on
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Bachisch counterpoints, too smart for his teachers, discovering new ways in experimental music
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Irmin Schmidt en Stockhausen
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Stockhausen was godlike. He challenged Irmin when he said: Tomorrow we will dedicate three hours to questions. But I only accep intelligent questions.
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Next day, Irmin asked him: Do you think you will get really intelligent questions posed about the work if you act so that everybody thinks,
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'I won't ask him, it's not intelligent enough'?
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Stockhausen was the last of the gods, traditional composers, writing on paper, divorced from the performance of music.
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Irmin's answer was: The intellectual God is Dead. Who are you on that mountain, higher that all of us? Just get down and be normal like any of us.
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So is that my secret society's gospel? No, it's not about that per sé, but we will not stand for any authority.
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Günter Grass - Danziger Trilogie: Die Blechtrommel. Katz und Maus. Hundejahre
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Holger lived in the same street (?)
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On the question of his nationality, Holger once said: "That I am German is a falsification. That I am Polish is a falsification. That means that
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my whole person is a falsification. This happened because my grandfather told the nazis that we must be Aryan. And he made a kind of family tree. And his family tree was just born from fantasy, with no basis behind it. It looked nice..."
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--
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