The Music Teacher

I must confess I feel a little guilty that I haven’t written much this month. I’m alive — for those that wonder and have emailed me to ask… It’s just been a little busy with work and two personal projects that have grown out of proportion, and have joined forces to become a huge beast. But anyway, I miss writing a little bit, so for lack of deeper or geekier subjects, tonight I’ll tell you a story.

One morning, my mother opened the newspaper to find that one of the artsie movie theaters in the city would be playing “The Music Teacher” that night. We had heard about this movie. My dad’s boss was a very good storyteller, and an awesome traveling partner. Both of our families went on three different trips, and it was on one of these — I think Spain/Morocco — when he told us about the plot in “The Music Teacher”. So, without thinking it twice, mom, sister and I went to see the movie, bringing along bohemian uncle Nacho. Nobody else in the family seemed worthy enough of the invitation.

Although I’ve seen many great movies since then, this is probably still my favorite movie ever. I loved the story, I loved the characters, and I LOVED the music: back then and even now. I have never heard a better version of “Sempre Libera” (La Traviata) than the one from this movie. Of course besides the great singing by Dinah Bryant and Jerome Pruett, the beauty of this version is how it fits in the plot. Needless to say, as the passionate music hunter that I’ve always been, finding the soundtrack of The Music Teacher became a personal mission… But this was no picnic… Finding the original soundtrack of a very non-mainstream foreign film in Bogotá remained mission impossible for many years.

Some years after seeing the movie for the first time, I was in college. One Sunday morning I opened the newspaper to find that the Music Teacher would be playing in a few hours in some unknown theater downtown. At the time, “R”, my first boyfriend, was on the picture. So, sharing my “Maitre de Musique” with him was a very big deal. Frantically, I called R and got him out of his comfy pajamas that morning to go see the movie. I loved this movie so much, he had to see it!

So we went. We saw it. I loved it again. R seemed to like it too. But of course nobody could like it as much as me. Desperately I tried to hold on to my memory of the melodies, because without the soundtrack, or a way to get the movie so I could write down the titles, it was just a question of time before I would lose the music in my head. So walking from the bus stop to my house I’d sing the soprano voice “Follie! Follie! Ahhh!” and the tenor too “Amor, amor, amor e palpito dell’ universo intero”… Probably one of the few times I’ve had no shame to sing out loud in the street. And the hunt for the soundtrack continued.

At some point I was able to find the movie. I purchased it (or was it R who got it for me?… I can’t remember) and wrote down the music titles, so at least I could look for “Sempre Libera” and other arias, since the soundtrack was so hard to find. Like many other things I loved in my young life, “The Music Teacher” became part of my identity. I hadn’t realized that until one day my boyfriend — ex at the time — brought to my house a full CD set of La Traviata and an additional aria from the movie. I had broken up with him, but he still loved me. He borrowed this music from a girl he was dating, but these songs were “me”. He brought them for me: to make me happy, and he borrowed them also for him: because they were my songs, and that’s what you do that when you love somebody: You treasure your love’s passions because they represent the person you love.

So, anyway, all this to say that The Music Teacher was MY thing.

R and I eventually got back together, and stayed happily as a couple for three more years, but when we got out of college something started changing. Maybe he changed, maybe I did. The point is that my feelings for him weren’t as strong as they felt before. I was slowly falling out of love with him. Little things about him that used to be normal suddenly bugged me.

Specially, one thing really annoyed me: We’d be hiking on a trail, and I would say something like “Check out that tree. Isn’t it beautiful?”, and R would elaborate something like “Oh my God! That is the most absolutely beautiful tree I have ever seen in my life. Hey everybody! Come see this tree. It’s the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen. It is truly, truly beautiful, Mafe. Gosh! What a beautiful tree”… Do you see it? I’m not exaggerating: If I liked something, he liked it more. He would take it deep and strong as his too, as if by liking my things as much as I did he could retain me. Anyway, that’s how I saw it. That’s how it felt. It wasn’t normal for him to like something I liked so fricking much!

So this is how the story ends: Luciano Pavarotti came to sing in Bogotá. I was first in line buying tickets. R and I went to see the tenor with a few friends. This was sort of an informal “concert”. I mean: Pavarotti sang beautiful opera arias (and silly traditional Italian songs like “Funiculi Funicula”) at our soccer stadium, we were wearing jeans, and had a bunch of snacks and food… So, before the concert begins, I’m there so excited, seated by R, about to bite my sandwich, and I guess we’re talking about music when suddenly R pronounces the following words:

“You know… guys… There’s this one CD I’ve always wanted to get. It’s my absolute favorite movie soundtrack: The Music Teacher. If you ever find this music PLEASE let me know.”

And as he says “Please let me know”, he looks at me straight in the eye, like also asking ME to let HIM know if I ever find the soundtrack of The Music Teacher because HE loves it, and it’s HIS favorite, and HE really wants it.

Call me whatever you want. But THAT was one of the things that pushed me all the way to leaving R. There was some more involved, but stealing my passion for this movie’s music was the ultimate turn off. I eventually got the soundtrack, ironically enough, just a few months from that horrid moment. My family took a trip to Italy, and we also stopped in Paris, and I found The music Teacher at the Virgin store near the Louvre. It was during that trip that I made some very important decisions, among them: Breaking up with R. I bet he doesn’t know that “his favorite” soundtrack was to blame for that. It’s gorgeous music anyway.

1. Cortigiani (Rigoletto). Giuseppe Verdi
   Performed by Jose Van Dam.
   Sample and buy mp3
2. Alcandro Lo Confesso, KV 294. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
   Performed by Dinah Bryant.
   Sample and buy mp3
3. Waltz. David Miller
   Performed by Quatour a Cordes
   Sample and buy mp3
4. Von Der Jugend (Le Chant de la Terre). Gustav Mahler
   Performed by Jerome Pruett.
   Sample and buy mp3
5. Poco Adagio (4th Symphonie, 3rd Mouvement). Gustav Mahler
   Performed by Orchestre Symphonique De La Rtbf
   Sample and buy mp3
6. Deh, Vieni Alla Finestra (Don Giovanni). Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
   Performed by Jose Van Dam
   Sample and buy mp3
7. Wohl Denk Ich Oft. Hugo Wolf
   Performed by Jose Van Dam
   Sample and buy mp3
8. Du Meine Seele, Du Mein Herz. Robert Schumann
   Performed by Jose Van Dam
   Sample and buy mp3
9. Stille Tranen (Kerner–Lieder). Robert Schumann
   Performed by Jose Van Dam
   Sample and buy mp3
10. Sorgio, O Padre (Bianca e Fernando). Vincenzo Bellini
    Performed by Janet Bakker
    Sample and buy mp3
11. An Die Musik. Franz Schubert
    Performed by Jose Van Dam
    Sample and buy mp3
12. Sempre Libera (Traviata). Giuseppe Verdi
    Performed by Dinah Bryant and Jerome Pruett
    Sample and buy mp3
13. A Tanto Duol (Bianca e Fernando). Vincezo Bellini
    Performed by Jerome Pruett
    Sample and buy mp3
14. Ich Bin Der Welt (Ruckert-Lieder N.5). Gustav Mahler
    Performed by Jose Van Dam
    Sample and buy mp3

Posted: Wed, October 25th, 2006 at 12:26 am
Filed under: English, Music, Personal, Life
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