Baroque Notes: Flowers and Duets

Tell us the address, it should be here. As Bach said, he took out his glasses and looked carefully at the house number.

"Sir, are you here to visit the Brahms Memorial?" At this moment, a staff member came from the opposite building.Seeing the earnest look of the enthusiastic young man, Bach replied, "Thank you, we will definitely visit another day, and we are looking for No. 33."

"Number 33?" The young man looked confused, "Then you are out of luck. Have you read the announcement on the website of the Hamburg City Tourist Office that the Telemann Memorial will be closed for a month in July. I deeply regret it Pity."

This time it was Bach and Vivaldi who were very confused. "Sorry, you said that this place is the Telemann Memorial rather than a private residence, and it is closed for a month now?" Bach was slightly surprised; Vivaldi said, "I don't think Philip is joking with us...something must have happened Question, maybe he gave us the wrong address? - Sebastian, maybe we should give Philip a call and double check..."

Just as Bach was about to take out his mobile phone, the young man suddenly got excited and clapped his hands. "God! I..." He took out a piece of paper from his pocket, stared at Bach and Vivaldi and looked again and again, "Yes! This is Mr. Telemann's waiting guest! Mr. Bach and Mr. Vivaldi, see you It is a great honor to meet you!"

Bach and Vivaldi were at a loss, let alone the young man with their portraits in his hands.After signing autographs for the enthusiastic guy from the Brahms Memorial (they're always very compliant with fans' requests), the guy couldn't help asking the two baroque musicians, who said nervously, "Minuet knock. Sorry. Gentlemen, I can only help here."

After the young man left, Bach and Vivaldi stood at the gate of No. 33 again inexplicably.That's when they noticed a sign next to the door saying the Telemann Memorial and a one-month notice of closure.

"Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767), a German//American Baroque composer, as an important figure in the transition between the Baroque and the Classical period, his music combines French//German, Italian//Large//Life , Polish style. Often compared with his friends Johann Sebastian Bach and Georg Friedrich Handel..." Vivaldi read a passage from the sign, " —I'm sure this is the Telemann we're looking for. But..."

Bach knocked on the door in 3/4 time.

After a period of silence, footsteps came from the door, followed by a very familiar voice: "Guests, why is the Telemann Memorial closed for a month?"

Bach was left speechless by the strange humor that Telemann had preserved for more than a few centuries. "Because the Telemann Memorial is holding an exhibition of the composer's specimens."

"It also comes with the British composer Handel." Vivaldi said helplessly. "Thank you for not letting us show the possible timings of all the dances from Gavot to Saraband."

"Of course, to cherish the hands of the two newly arrived exhibits." Suddenly the door opened, and Telemann was standing at the door with a smile.He looked very relaxed in his home clothes, "Come in! I hope my little humor didn't confuse you, it would be great to host you at my former home!"

Apparently 33 Peterstrasse has largely been converted from Telemann Memorial to a decent home.Most of the exhibits have been shipped out for storage, and modern electrical appliances and household facilities have been moved in.What has not changed are the original 18th century instruments on display.Telemann's godson, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach's clavichord is still there (Bach immediately recognized it as his own child's); Telemann's own harpsichord is in the center of the living room, behind The walls of the museum are still decorated with the original memorial panels: rows of various portraits of Telemann.A living(?) Telemann flashed past his own portrait, and deftly removed the sign reading "Exhibition Items Do Not Touch" on the instrument, and said cheerfully, "The violin is ready, you can play it as you like." Play it—I'm looking forward to Sebastian and Fred playing four-hands, and then Antonio, I have a wall of violins, you can play as you like..."

"Thank you, Philip," Vivaldi said, "but Sebastian played four-handed with Fred."

"It will be too fat to reach the keyboard or squeeze..." Telemann added, looking very expectant.

"You should first worry about whether the piano stool will collapse. Yesterday I replaced the original 18th century piano stool with a stainless steel one..." Handel came out from the back room.Compared with his usual serious and proud appearance, he wore a loose shirt with an open neckline and no tie, which made him look a little easy-going.Glancing at Vivaldi, Handel raised his eyebrows. "—well, little redhead...come upstairs with me to put the luggage in the room. I promise not to tell you about our opera rehearsal at the Metropolitan Opera in New York."

After a while, besides the sound of luggage being unpacked upstairs, there was a debate about the role allocation of arias in The Enchanted Island: Vivaldi seemed to be very pleased with Handel’s letting all the arias of the RV number be sung by monsters. Annoyed, and Handel felt that Vivaldi's neurotic music was perfect for the grotesque monster. "One is a feathered monster//monster, and the other is a black-faced monster//monster... It's just tailor-made for you! I should suggest another red-haired monster to the crew..."

The movement upstairs spread to the kitchen downstairs.

"It's hard to imagine that after this vacation, Antonio and Fred will go to New York to continue opera rehearsals." Bach said helplessly.

"Oh, Bach! Your face is pale," Telemann recited singingly while opening the refrigerator, "Your majestic organ performance conveys the gospel of the Lord, echoing for a long time; great honor and admiration..."

"—Wait a minute, Mr. Telemann." Bach's face turned pale, "Thank you for your recitation, but I remember that this seems to be the Sonnet Commemorating the Death of Mr. Bach written by you in 1751."

"Yes," Telemann said gracefully, "You did turn pale just now, and the poem I wrote to commemorate your death did begin with 'You turned pale'..."

"But, do these two kinds of pale faces come from the same reason..." Bach couldn't bear to comment on Telemann's weird sense of humor.

"You have to admit that you have been 'pale' for almost 300 years," Telemann glanced at the empty refrigerator, "—the refrigerator is almost empty again. It was still full yesterday morning... Fred must have eaten it last night Supper."

Bach already felt unable to communicate with Telemann, but fortunately at this time a heavy footstep came, and the arrival of Handel put an end to this terrible "pale-faced" conversation. "Steal it? No, I ate it blatantly. It's just that you were talking on the phone with your good student Piesendel." Handel walked over suddenly after packing his luggage, "I'll buy it. But... eat Much more has to be held accountable—" he said, casting a glance at Bach.

Bach said very politely, and tried not to turn pale, "Yes, as the second eater here, even if the gap with the first eater is not small, I am very willing to contribute."

After a while, when the two big bears went out, Telemann and Vivaldi suddenly remembered their taste in food: sausages, pickles, and even more terrible British dark dishes; they will definitely buy them again Come back in great numbers.Worse still: they don't know the way at all.Not to mention the Hamburg of the 21st century, they don't even know the Hamburg of the 18th century.

"I'm afraid it will take a while for the bear brothers to come back." Telemann said jokingly.Vivaldi sat aside, but he was a little embarrassed: Although the two had known each other for more than a hundred years (thanks to their common student Pisendel), and often cooperated in the association, they did not meet very much in person, let alone Such solitude. "Antonio?" Telemann broke the silence. He looked at Vivaldi's dull face. "My sixth sense tells me that you shouldn't be like this when you are on vacation-how about a visit to my old house? Today's docent Must be the most professional in the world, because no one knows this house better than him. The first place I will take you to must have never been explained by a guide."

Vivaldi looked embarrassed, and he stammered, "Philip, you and Fred can't imagine what preparations Sebastian and I did before we came to Hamburg."

"Hmm...you want to read the lonelyplanet series of Hamburg travel guides, but in order to save money, you went to the library to borrow one, and then copied most of it diligently? I think it's more or less the same." Telemann said , into a small room next to it.

"That...that's part," Vivaldi admitted embarrassingly, while following. "In fact, the main preparation was that we both browsed through all the biographies we could find about you and Fred..."

Telemann burst out laughing. "Actually, Fred and I also found out the biographies of you and Sebastian. The conclusion we can draw is that, leaving aside the music, these biographies are nothing more than entangled in narratives like resumes. ——Okay, this place It is the one I would most like you to visit, and I can assure you that the biography does not describe such a scene."

维瓦