Blog written by Jairo Geronymo, pianist, Nurnberg, Germany　

The Berlin wall fell on November 9, 1989. In the 20 years since, Berlin has reinvented itself as a single city. Borderless.

The infrastructure of East Berlin needed extensive modernization. The subway system--oddly cut into two-- became one again. New traffic patterns mirror a new organization of the city. Berlin needed a new main train station: the largest crossing station in Europe was erected, or rather emerged from the sand (www.hbf-berlin.de) a pas de deux of glass and curves. This gargantuan transparent double centipede, a stone throw from the Branderburg Gate, dwarfs the fast speed trains supported by single pillars and crisscrossing subway lines. All open, all see-through.

Twice a week, I rush through this space on my commute to Berlin, marveling at the station’s scale and lightness. This week, I eyed a temporary round black structure, fifteen feet in diameter, eight feet tall with two large openings. It was plopped into a busy path in the middle floor. Inside this edifice were microphones, drums, guitars, keyboards and 37 miles of cables (www.firmenpresse.de/pressinfo/).

Then, on September 16th, something happened. I heard ‘piano sounds’ as I devoured my vegetables in red curry. Spicy sounds.

Inside the black structure, I saw a gleaming nine foot Bechstein grand piano, a pianist, microphones, a composer with an equalizer, and what seemed like two miles of cables.

Sublime music filled the space as the pianist played glissandi directly on the strings. The infernal music was threatening: the pianist banged ‘demolished’ seventh chords on the lower keys. The composer often induced microfony that reverberated like a toxic storm through the cavernous space. The ethereal remixed sounds seduced some listeners; the thundering microphony scared others. This piano, large for any concert hall but tiny in this cavernous space, roared in this transparent cave. Everybody paid attention. Many people sat on the floor in and around the black structure, listening, riveted.

Experienced musicians know how to match the right repertoire with the right audience. Much of the exuberant piano repertoire frequently performed in recital and concerts would, I suspect, disappear in that space. What would you program for that space?

Were many people shocked by such contemporary music? Yes.

Were many people shocked by such contemporary architecture? No.

The logic of the new suggests that strong contemporary architecture would pair seamlessly with strong contemporary music. New kids in the block, in this model, like to hang out together.

So why do audiences seem to digest contemporary architecture so easily while contemporary music generates so much controversy? Is all contemporary architecture good and all contemporary music bad? So what makes for bad contemporary architecture or bad contemporary music? Who can judge it?

Yes, we can!

So....leave a comment if you ever loved something old or something new…

Blog entry by Jairo Geronymo, pianist, Nurnberg and Berlin,  Germany

Two weeks ago,  I saw a show in Berlin by a group called ‘Chamäleon’  The show itself was called ‘Soap’. One of my concert companions was a ten year-old boy. This show seemed the perfect choice for a mind immersed in Nintendo and Disney.

The show mixed acrobatics, special effects, comedy, skin, and hardcore arias by Mozart, Schubert, Schumann and Wolf. Unusual.

The scenery consisted of bathtubs used as a base for acrobatics. The highest bathtub functioned as the throne of a very good soprano wearing a bathing suit.  The pairings were a delightful surprise: Wolf  with contortions, Schubert with fabric swaths holding muscular bodies, Mozart with soap bubbles.

At the moment, the streets of Berlin are plastered with advertisements for the "Blue Man Group". In Las Vegas, it is difficult to score tickets for ‘Cirque du Soleil’  or ‘Le Reve’. All these spectacles mix dance, acrobatics, elaborate set design, and music.

Yet these elements  also evoke the main ingredients of French Grand Opera. Classical ballets have merged with circus acrobatics. Operas in the 18th century used flowing blue fabric to make ocean waves; now , we have laser shows. Everything is different. Everything is the same.

So how has the music changed?

Is this change just a question of Gregorian Chant with digital sounds, African drums with extra reverberation and musical pyrotechnics? No.

Experiences appealing to many senses remain a successful recipe for audience engagement.  Disney knows this. Bollywood knows this. Can we then anticipate a resurgence of French grand opera for the masses? Questionable--but opera will always attract an audience.

I prefer to think that in our multi-cultural global society, there is space for the New York Phillarmonic playing music from Star Wars and Mozart paired with soap bubbles.