Charming - in Three Languages
by Mark Montgomery
Louise Vanbiervliet is charming in three languages. “Let’s talk later?” she says. “I look forward to that.” I have time to look around the old church and contemplate the location. The church is striking, in a minimalist way. I ask one of the lay officials if he could give me a potted history of the building. “Hmmmm, I’m afraid I cannot, but I could find out for you.” He apologises in flawless French. This may not seem noteworthy, at first glance. However, in Belgium, nothing is simple.
The Church of Saint Sulpice, in the hamlet of Lower Hélécine, in the province of Walloon Brabant, straddles the invisible “line of language divide.” As a rule of thumb, anywhere north of the E40 motorway is Flemish speaking. Anywhere south of the E40 motorway is French speaking. Both Louise and the church warden slide into the routine Belgian courtesy. Which language shall we speak? English? French? Flemish? We opt for French. Jacques is diminutive in stature with thinning hair, slicked back with Brylcream. He insinuates himself into our polyglot clique. Happily, he informs us that the Saint Sulpice Church had been established on this spot since the year 650! He seems to be getting a second breath now. He chips in like the guy at the end of the bar who has been eavesdropping. “It is in Romanesque style. It was completely rebuilt in the 12th century. There was a new round of renovations in 1693. Of course, there were additions and modifications before and after those dates – but these are the ones I can remember – on the spur of the moment” He seems pleased with himself.
In the background, a bevy of violins is deep into their regime of tuning up. The concert will start shortly. “But who was Saint Sulpice?” The church official confesses ignorance. This is a source of amusement to us, for reasons unknown. It seems polite to focus our attention on the 20 or so musicians, who are now fully limbered up and ready to rock.
The group is a subject of some curiosity. The youngest member of the ensemble is just 3 years old. The oldest is a mere 17 years old. They are all the students of the self–effacing Louise. Louise has marshalled the support of her friends Jeffrey Dirix (Piano) and Mathilde Wolfs (Cello). Saint Sulpice the Pius, it transpires, was the bishop of the diocese of Bourge, in France, in the year 647. He was one of the notable bishops of Gaul. He won respect because of his assiduous protection of the poor and the persecuted. Such was his mpact, that no fewer than 350 parishes in France, Belgium and Switzerland still carry his name. It’s show time.
Louise clears her throat and waits for the small audience to come to attention. “Welcome to our class concert,” she says shyly, in Flemish this time, to an audience made up primarily of the parents of her troop. And they are off… I am quite surprised by the ambitious repertoire, given the youth of the musicians. She starts them off with Drummond Castle – Mucking o Geordie’s Byre. The student musicians begin to relax their clenched jaws, midway through the first piece.
Almost immediately, Louise launches them into a medley of Czardas by J Van Dungen, Fantasia on Greensleeves by Vaughan Williams and then Concertino by G Perman. The mistress of our virtuosos is a graduate of the Royal Conservatory of Music in Brussels. She hails from the region of Aalst but has now moved to Hélécine because “I have friends here” she says. Her chosen métier is that of music teacher. She teaches students of all ages, but evidence reveals that she is particularly gifted at developing young talent. The violin urchins are now in deep concentration as they render their version of a Minuet by J S Bach. This is immediately followed by Summer by Vivaldi.
“That was a bit rough” Louise apologises. “Perhaps not perfect Louise but look at them. Most of them are only 12 or 13 years old. I think you and they should be very proud.” I am curious to know how she gets such spectacular results from children so young. It is obvious that her vocation is teaching. Our interview is repeatedly truncated by parents and performers who want “just a quick word with her.” Louise teases brilliance from her extremely youthful acolytes, thanks to her commitment to the Suzuki teaching method. She teaches them skills in the same way that they would learn their mother tongue. She favors “Natural Learning”. Of course, the students also learn to read rhythm and notes (basic music theory) at the same time, at their own learning pace.
“Would you mind if I took your picture?” I ask. “I hate having my photo taken! My mom will tell you that there are very few photos of me, even as a child.” “Just two or three quick ones? I will be discreet.” “Well can I get my violin then?”
“Something to hide behind?”
“Exactly!” We understand each other. The Suzuki Method was conceived in the mid–20th century by Shinichi Suzuki, a Japanese violin salesman. Suzuki noticed that children pick up their native language quickly, whereas adults consider even dialects “difficult” to learn. Nevertheless, new languages and dialects are acquired, with ease, by children at the age of five or six. Suzuki reasoned that if children have the skill to acquire their native language, they might have the ability to become proficient on a musical instrument. “I love seeing them get… papillons?”
“Butterflies”, I help her.
“Yes, I love seeing them get butterflies in their little tummies, when they realise that they have achieved something!” Her face is animated. This is the reflection of a true teacher.
Suzuki decided to develop a teaching method after a conversation with Leonor Michaelis, who was Professor of Biochemistry at the University of Nagoya.
