Wendelin Bitzan

Three short announcements to fill the summer slump, wishing all of you an awesome holiday time:
(1) My favourite workspace of the last months, Goodies Deli cafe at Bikini Berlin, has suddenly closed without notifying me in advance (#wtf).
(2) I would really appreciate if German academia took similar care in advertising their vacancies as the University of Copenhagen does (#omg).
(3) Nikolai Medtner‘s E minor Piano Sonata, Op. 25 No. 2, is one of the most intriguing pieces of music I have ever encountered (#yolo).

There are two general tendencies in music university administration in the German-speaking countries. First, more and more institutions are led by music theorists and composers (Berlin, Freiburg, Hamburg, Mainz, Munich, Nuremberg). Second, an increasing number of principals and deans are female (Augsburg, Dresden, Hanover, Rostock, Stuttgart; a significant peak in Austria: Graz, Linz, Salzburg, and Vienna; none in Switzerland). I feel positive about both of these developments. Let me know what you think!

German classical music journalism has approached a state of mud-wrestling these days. Alban Gerhardt is attacked by Christine Lemke-Matwey for his political engagement, Laura Wikert‘s criticism of David Garrett earns her a mini shitstorm from his groupies, Norbert Schläbitz condemns traditional musicology, Hartmut Welscher and Tobias Ruderer settle up with Deutsche Grammophon‘s marketing policy, Igor Levit defends his unjustly harassed colleagues in an angry rant, and Alphonse Sauer seriously speaks of »journalist fascism«. Feuilletonistic trifle at its best! I feel very well entertained.

This is why I am not really interested in performers of classical music. My impression is that many artists, particularly those featured by the major labels, abuse their personality to mask the music. I cringe whenever I see a concert ad or CD cover with a performer’s name printed in capital letters bigger than the composer’s—this makes me stay away from the concert or leave the store. Their faces may be pretty and their attitude seductive, but unfortunately I am attracted by the music itself rather than by the people performing it. And what they perform is largely uninteresting—no surprises, hardly anything beyond the established canon. So all of you big shots and top sellers: Please spare me your hundreds of Moony Sonatas, Teardrop Preludes, and La Campannoyas just serving your self-portrayal. Keep your artistic profile neurosis for yourself. For being commercially controlled puppets of the music industry, you have my pity, not my sympathy. You don’t illuminate the music, you are basking in its light. Go on selling your shallow high-gloss products, but don’t expect me to watch or listen.