man tells all

a column by bass player and musicologist Hans Mantel, on his current state of mind

maestro mantel

Desert Island Dilemma

About a week ago I arrived at the radio studio to do my regular programme and I was delighted

to see a dear friend and fellow jazz musician whom I had not seen for quite some time.

We have known and played with each other for ten years and he had been the pianist

in my band on various tours around the globe. On this morning he was there as a guest

on another radio show in a studio accross the hall. Not only is he a superb musician but,

and this is important when you're on the road together for three weeks, he has an

unusually sunny disposition that is the perfect antidote to what the poet Longfellow calls

"the cares that infest the day." It was therefore very curious to see that something was

bothering him and after the first greetings had been exchanged I asked him what was on his mind.

"I thought it was great that I got this invitation to come on this show. They want to talk about

my new album and my career and so on. They also asked me to select my own music for the two hours",

he said.

Then he leaned over the table towards me and said with the saddest look on his face:

"I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't choose, couldn't make up my mind. It's an impossible task."

I knew exactly what he meant. I got him a cup of coffee from the machine and realised that

a well-known gruesome dilemma had claimed another victim. It is a very serious problem,

for anybody whose identity as a person and as a musician is so closely connected to music,

to select two hours of music that express who you are.

All you get is one shot so you take that shot extremely seriously.

The famous BBC radio show Desert Island Discs revolves around this theme. People are asked

what eight recordings they would take with them to a desert island. This seems to be a simple

enough question with an equally simple solution: just take your eight favourite records with you.

But it's not that simple.............

Let's assume that you are a serious music lover with a substantial record collection,

that is, substantial to you. You are asked the same question and you go to your collection to make

your choice. It is then that you find out that by selecting certain recordings you are de-selecting others.

You are deciding that certain recordings should not come with you to that desert island.

How do you justify that choice? Don't you like them anymore? Don't they express as much about you

as do the others? Is your interest in the selected ones temporary because they are new?

These are penetrating questions the more you think about them.

There is another side to this. Let's assume you have made your choice and are sitting on your

desert island with all the comforts of home and your selected music. If that's all the music you have for,

let's say, the next three years or so, is that music going to stay as captivating and stimulating as it is now?

If that is all you have to listen to and no other music to which it compares favourably,

eventually it will start to lose its meaning. It loses its ability to surprise. Not because of

some inherent deficiency in the music but because of the way our brain works.

Here is some advice should you decide to be marooned for any interesting length of time:

take music with you that you don't yet know. De-select your favourites; those are already in your head.

Unfamiliar music will enrich you and keep you musically aware; it will spectacularly renew your

aquaintance with your favourite music when you are finally rescued off the island.

Actually this is also a very good recipe for buying concert tickets before your tropical get-away.

Try spicing up your 'collection'!