Voetklok.. Foot bell. Brugge never fails to amaze and delight and
Friday 4th September, there was a ten minute display of
bell-ringing by foot on top of a wooden platform, a little belfry I
suppose, in Boeveriestraat. Five times a year, in June, July and
September, Paul Van den Abeele commemorates the life and work of the
man who cast and installed a new set of bells between 1742-48 in the
Belfort following a disastrous fire in 1741. To whit, Joris Dumery,
who died in Brugge in 1787.
Joris Dumery
He was a master bell founder and maker of
carillons and indeed made and installed the carillon in Bruges. The first carillon was installed in the sixteenth
century and served to regulate the lives of the inhabitants; fire
alarms, work hours, political, social and religious events were all
thus marked. Quite why the memorial is where it is, and why it is
operated by foot, remains to be discovered. Certainly, it is a
cost-effective solution to the occasional need to ring a huge and
heavy bell in memoriam. Spectators last Friday, were sadly sparse; few outsiders seem to have heard of this summer ritual and many Bruggelings appear disinterested, but it was nonetheless a charming and idiosyncratic tribute to Meneer Dumery.
Friend and I were fascinated in fact, on Friday morning, to see Paul unlock the bell, clamber up the ladder and begin the arduous task of ringing the 700 kg bell for ten minutes. He wore no safety harness and had nothing to assist his efforts beyond the power of his 83 year old legs! He was security-free, and unusually fit. It looked, and is, potentially dangerous and one couldn't help but smile nostalgically at the thought of our own dear 'Elf 'n' Safety regulations. Here, there were none. What there was, however, was good will, a huge pride and interest in Bruggean tradition and a strong sense of community continuity and responsibility. Paul has rung the bell for 27 years, and for a total so far of 192 times. He aims to make that 200 at least! The audience of five was enthralled and afterwards we spoke to Paul and his energetic wife, Jo [84 and brisk!] and went to the nearby OCMW [Social Security] which, unexpectedly to me, served drinks to its clients and presumably to locals like Jo and Paul. I so enjoyed our long chat, together with another friend of theirs, Lieve, met through the ringing of the Dumery bell on an earlier occasion. Paul is a carillonneur by training and went up to the Bruges carillon first when he was six. His professional life was spent in art restoration. He is sad that he can find no younger person to take over his Dumery responsibility eventually; he says that young people ask how much money will they be paid and show little interest or respect in continuing this special Bruggean tradition.
Because of that morning activity, Michele and I were invited to a concert in the Belfort in the evening where we joined the Vrienden of the Beiard. We had the most splendid time, not knowing, on arrival, what awaited us. On stage there was a decent-sized orchestra with wind instruments, violin, portable carillon, synthesizer but with the majority of players equipped with banjoes. Apparently, originally formed when the members were schoolboys and the Directeur of the school, a banjo enthusiast, the orchestra had re-formed for this concert after a lapse of thirty years, recruiting two young women musicians en route. The music was impressive, and there were lots of songs from the chiefly old i.e. dated, popular European canon, including an American negro spiritual. The large audience frequently sang along and the whole affair was just so joyful and somehow, innocent! A happy touch was added as the audience filed out, with a free glass of Brugse Zot beer for everyone. Small wonder that we wandered into the dark, humming along, remembering the songs. Life-enhancing or what?!
Friend and I were fascinated in fact, on Friday morning, to see Paul unlock the bell, clamber up the ladder and begin the arduous task of ringing the 700 kg bell for ten minutes. He wore no safety harness and had nothing to assist his efforts beyond the power of his 83 year old legs! He was security-free, and unusually fit. It looked, and is, potentially dangerous and one couldn't help but smile nostalgically at the thought of our own dear 'Elf 'n' Safety regulations. Here, there were none. What there was, however, was good will, a huge pride and interest in Bruggean tradition and a strong sense of community continuity and responsibility. Paul has rung the bell for 27 years, and for a total so far of 192 times. He aims to make that 200 at least! The audience of five was enthralled and afterwards we spoke to Paul and his energetic wife, Jo [84 and brisk!] and went to the nearby OCMW [Social Security] which, unexpectedly to me, served drinks to its clients and presumably to locals like Jo and Paul. I so enjoyed our long chat, together with another friend of theirs, Lieve, met through the ringing of the Dumery bell on an earlier occasion. Paul is a carillonneur by training and went up to the Bruges carillon first when he was six. His professional life was spent in art restoration. He is sad that he can find no younger person to take over his Dumery responsibility eventually; he says that young people ask how much money will they be paid and show little interest or respect in continuing this special Bruggean tradition.
Jo and Paul Van den Abeele
Because of that morning activity, Michele and I were invited to a concert in the Belfort in the evening where we joined the Vrienden of the Beiard. We had the most splendid time, not knowing, on arrival, what awaited us. On stage there was a decent-sized orchestra with wind instruments, violin, portable carillon, synthesizer but with the majority of players equipped with banjoes. Apparently, originally formed when the members were schoolboys and the Directeur of the school, a banjo enthusiast, the orchestra had re-formed for this concert after a lapse of thirty years, recruiting two young women musicians en route. The music was impressive, and there were lots of songs from the chiefly old i.e. dated, popular European canon, including an American negro spiritual. The large audience frequently sang along and the whole affair was just so joyful and somehow, innocent! A happy touch was added as the audience filed out, with a free glass of Brugse Zot beer for everyone. Small wonder that we wandered into the dark, humming along, remembering the songs. Life-enhancing or what?!
In
fact, this Friday evening music presaged a musical Saturday. A friend
Tatjana,[above] harpsichordist, and her husband, Martin came to stay from
Cologne, for Tatjana to give a charity concert in the Orgelzaal, part of the Conservatorium in
Muntplein in the evening. For me, her super recital followed an
afternoon concert of Early Music in the Sint Jeruzalemkapel by a
choir from Veurne. I have mentioned the wondrous Sint Jeruzalem
church before; it is special and tiny so that the approximately
thirty spectators were crowded together to listen to the choir which
sang from behind a screen on a gallery above. The main space of the
ground area is taken up by the splendid mediaeval tombs of Anselm
Adornes, the founder and benefactor of the church, and his wife.
Frankly all three concerts, hugely different, were such a composite
pleasure and made me reflect on my good fortune in thinking of coming
to live here at this rather late stage in life. I like the following quote from Kahlil Gibran [from which the title of this post was taken]
'Music is the language of the spirit.
It opens the secret of life bringing
peace, abolishing strife.'
A view of the gallery above the tiny nave, where the Veurne choir stood, to sing.
And so to Sunday and a visit to the sixth Kaasmarkt in 't Zand, a celebration really of artisanal cheese-making in the area. There were perhaps two dozen stalls, music [dire] and a couple of wine stalls too. I think I had expected more but 24, if that is what there were, is pretty impressive. As I walked home carrying cheeses, I scanned back over a crowded week, which included the first lesson of Level 2 Dutch on Wednesday evening, and marvelled at the little life I am creating, if that is the right word. Finding, perhaps, is better. Give a human sufficient warmth, food and shelter, and a life will ensue. Which brings me to ponder the European problem de nos jours; refugees. Have to mention this and use the graph below.
This graph appeared in the Belgian press a few days ago, [and also I think, in the Economist] as I heard David Cameron insisting that the UK was leading the way with helping refugees. While acknowledging the considerable UK financial contribution to the funding of refugee camps, I think this says it all; there is no UK among these European nations in the graph which is measuring the numbers of refugees taken in, per 100,000 of a country's population. France, with all its huge space, is disgracefully at the bottom of the list but at least, it is on the list, just.
The graph is for last year so that the huge contribution made by Germany this year, during the current tsunami of desperate people fleeing to Europe, is not acknowledged.
