Suppose you could visit your great-great-grandchildren with a time machine. There you are around 2150, a living room in Amsterdam mound or Amersfoort aan Zee. On the other side of the window glass, a world that is on average about three degrees warmer than it is now. At a certain point, the descendants ask the inevitable question: “What did you actually do when it became clear that something was wrong with the climate?”
Violinist and composer Tim Kliphuis (1974) regularly asks himself this question of conscience, he says one rainy morning at his kitchen table in Hilversum. What would he answer? “In any case, I want to be able to say truthfully that as an artist I did what was within my capabilities.”
He has been adding the artistic deed to the word for one and a half years now. During the first lockdown he wrote The Five Elements, an ensemble work about our dealings with the planet. The album is now to listen to on Spotify. His latest piece will be heard this weekend in the NTR Saturday Matinee. Under the baton of conductor Lawrence Renes, the Radio Philharmonic Orchestra will premiere Phoenix Reborn, a triple concert with a green message. Soloists: cellist Ella van Poucke, pianist Michiel Borstlap and Kliphuis himself on violin.
urge
If you take a look at Tim Kliphuis’ CV, you will initially find nothing that points to ardent musical eco-engagement. He studied classical violin at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, specialized in gypsy jazz, and toured with gypsy legends such as Fapy Lafertin and the Rosenberg Trio. With his own Tim Kliphuis Trio he has been exploring a broader style palette since 2005, ranging from jazz and classical to minimal and folk.
And yet, the fate of the earth has always been close to his heart, says Tim Kliphuis. A question of an environmentally conscious upbringing, complete with summer camps as a youth ranger of the World Wildlife Fund. With the corona crisis (“also an acute consequence of how we treat the earth”), the urge to speak out grew. “All the more so because I believe that art has an important role to play here. Science and politics approach the problem rationally. That’s good, but we also have to learn to feel the challenges of our time. Music offers an excellent opportunity here. She speaks straight to the heart.”
My music is about space to reflect on our relationship to nature
What affects Kliphuis, father of three, is the impact that the ecological crisis has on the younger generation. Last fall he went on a film version of The Five Elements to secondary schools to talk about the climate. “Then you hear twelve- or thirteen-year-olds say that it gives them sleepless nights. I think that’s terrible. Young people are acutely aware of the urgency of the problem. But at the same time they are powerless, because they are hardly listened to and the current rulers show little decisiveness.”
Looking forward
Klipthuis thinks that this problem is based on a question of time: “If we really want to take young and future generations seriously, we will have to learn to look further ahead. So don’t think in terms of four or eight years, but in decades and centuries. Only then can we face this crisis.”
In the three parts of Phoenix Reborn Kliphuis therefore unfolds a musical view of the distant future. The point of departure is a bird’s-eye view of our modern era, outlined in jazzy rhythms, babbling brass and driving percussion. “A kind of industrial city music”, according to the composer.
A blistering climax is followed by a modest solo for the cello by Ella van Poucke. “In a way, this sounds like the stillness that we all experienced during the lockdowns,” explains Kliphuis. “It is music that is about space – space to reflect on our relationship to nature.”
Finally, an energetic finale, for which Kliphuis sought inspiration in folk music. “I wanted to write positive, earthy music. Back to the roots. She expresses a sustainable future, in which a reborn humanity has learned to live in harmony with the earth.”
Remarkable: in the narrative sketched by Kliphuis, people play a rather central role. But doesn’t ecological awareness demand a less anthropocentric perspective?
Kliphuis: “True, but who puts that person less central? That change of mentality is ultimately up to the individual himself. No one else is going to do that for us. Yes, at some point the earth, but that is a scenario that I would like to avoid.”
A version of this article also appeared in NRC in the morning of October 7, 2021
Suppose you could visit your great-great-grandchildren with a time machine. There you are around 2150, a living room in Amsterdam mound or Amersfoort aan Zee. On the other side of the window glass, a world that is on average about three degrees warmer than it is now. At a certain point, the descendants ask the inevitable question: “What did you actually do when it became clear that something was wrong with the climate?”
Violinist and composer Tim Kliphuis (1974) regularly asks himself this question of conscience, he says one rainy morning at his kitchen table in Hilversum. What would he answer? “In any case, I want to be able to say truthfully that as an artist I did what was within my capabilities.”
He has been adding the artistic deed to the word for one and a half years now. During the first lockdown he wrote The Five Elements, an ensemble work about our dealings with the planet. The album is now to listen to on Spotify. His latest piece will be heard this weekend in the NTR Saturday Matinee. Under the baton of conductor Lawrence Renes, the Radio Philharmonic Orchestra will premiere Phoenix Reborn, a triple concert with a green message. Soloists: cellist Ella van Poucke, pianist Michiel Borstlap and Kliphuis himself on violin.
urge
If you take a look at Tim Kliphuis’ CV, you will initially find nothing that points to ardent musical eco-engagement. He studied classical violin at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, specialized in gypsy jazz, and toured with gypsy legends such as Fapy Lafertin and the Rosenberg Trio. With his own Tim Kliphuis Trio he has been exploring a broader style palette since 2005, ranging from jazz and classical to minimal and folk.
And yet, the fate of the earth has always been close to his heart, says Tim Kliphuis. A question of an environmentally conscious upbringing, complete with summer camps as a youth ranger of the World Wildlife Fund. With the corona crisis (“also an acute consequence of how we treat the earth”), the urge to speak out grew. “All the more so because I believe that art has an important role to play here. Science and politics approach the problem rationally. That’s good, but we also have to learn to feel the challenges of our time. Music offers an excellent opportunity here. She speaks straight to the heart.”
My music is about space to reflect on our relationship to nature
What affects Kliphuis, father of three, is the impact that the ecological crisis has on the younger generation. Last fall he went on a film version of The Five Elements to secondary schools to talk about the climate. “Then you hear twelve- or thirteen-year-olds say that it gives them sleepless nights. I think that’s terrible. Young people are acutely aware of the urgency of the problem. But at the same time they are powerless, because they are hardly listened to and the current rulers show little decisiveness.”
Looking forward
Klipthuis thinks that this problem is based on a question of time: “If we really want to take young and future generations seriously, we will have to learn to look further ahead. So don’t think in terms of four or eight years, but in decades and centuries. Only then can we face this crisis.”
In the three parts of Phoenix Reborn Kliphuis therefore unfolds a musical view of the distant future. The point of departure is a bird’s-eye view of our modern era, outlined in jazzy rhythms, babbling brass and driving percussion. “A kind of industrial city music”, according to the composer.
A blistering climax is followed by a modest solo for the cello by Ella van Poucke. “In a way, this sounds like the stillness that we all experienced during the lockdowns,” explains Kliphuis. “It is music that is about space – space to reflect on our relationship to nature.”
Finally, an energetic finale, for which Kliphuis sought inspiration in folk music. “I wanted to write positive, earthy music. Back to the roots. She expresses a sustainable future, in which a reborn humanity has learned to live in harmony with the earth.”
Remarkable: in the narrative sketched by Kliphuis, people play a rather central role. But doesn’t ecological awareness demand a less anthropocentric perspective?
Kliphuis: “True, but who puts that person less central? That change of mentality is ultimately up to the individual himself. No one else is going to do that for us. Yes, at some point the earth, but that is a scenario that I would like to avoid.”
A version of this article also appeared in NRC in the morning of October 7, 2021
Suppose you could visit your great-great-grandchildren with a time machine. There you are around 2150, a living room in Amsterdam mound or Amersfoort aan Zee. On the other side of the window glass, a world that is on average about three degrees warmer than it is now. At a certain point, the descendants ask the inevitable question: “What did you actually do when it became clear that something was wrong with the climate?”
Violinist and composer Tim Kliphuis (1974) regularly asks himself this question of conscience, he says one rainy morning at his kitchen table in Hilversum. What would he answer? “In any case, I want to be able to say truthfully that as an artist I did what was within my capabilities.”
He has been adding the artistic deed to the word for one and a half years now. During the first lockdown he wrote The Five Elements, an ensemble work about our dealings with the planet. The album is now to listen to on Spotify. His latest piece will be heard this weekend in the NTR Saturday Matinee. Under the baton of conductor Lawrence Renes, the Radio Philharmonic Orchestra will premiere Phoenix Reborn, a triple concert with a green message. Soloists: cellist Ella van Poucke, pianist Michiel Borstlap and Kliphuis himself on violin.
urge
If you take a look at Tim Kliphuis’ CV, you will initially find nothing that points to ardent musical eco-engagement. He studied classical violin at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, specialized in gypsy jazz, and toured with gypsy legends such as Fapy Lafertin and the Rosenberg Trio. With his own Tim Kliphuis Trio he has been exploring a broader style palette since 2005, ranging from jazz and classical to minimal and folk.
And yet, the fate of the earth has always been close to his heart, says Tim Kliphuis. A question of an environmentally conscious upbringing, complete with summer camps as a youth ranger of the World Wildlife Fund. With the corona crisis (“also an acute consequence of how we treat the earth”), the urge to speak out grew. “All the more so because I believe that art has an important role to play here. Science and politics approach the problem rationally. That’s good, but we also have to learn to feel the challenges of our time. Music offers an excellent opportunity here. She speaks straight to the heart.”
My music is about space to reflect on our relationship to nature
What affects Kliphuis, father of three, is the impact that the ecological crisis has on the younger generation. Last fall he went on a film version of The Five Elements to secondary schools to talk about the climate. “Then you hear twelve- or thirteen-year-olds say that it gives them sleepless nights. I think that’s terrible. Young people are acutely aware of the urgency of the problem. But at the same time they are powerless, because they are hardly listened to and the current rulers show little decisiveness.”
Looking forward
Klipthuis thinks that this problem is based on a question of time: “If we really want to take young and future generations seriously, we will have to learn to look further ahead. So don’t think in terms of four or eight years, but in decades and centuries. Only then can we face this crisis.”
In the three parts of Phoenix Reborn Kliphuis therefore unfolds a musical view of the distant future. The point of departure is a bird’s-eye view of our modern era, outlined in jazzy rhythms, babbling brass and driving percussion. “A kind of industrial city music”, according to the composer.
A blistering climax is followed by a modest solo for the cello by Ella van Poucke. “In a way, this sounds like the stillness that we all experienced during the lockdowns,” explains Kliphuis. “It is music that is about space – space to reflect on our relationship to nature.”
Finally, an energetic finale, for which Kliphuis sought inspiration in folk music. “I wanted to write positive, earthy music. Back to the roots. She expresses a sustainable future, in which a reborn humanity has learned to live in harmony with the earth.”
Remarkable: in the narrative sketched by Kliphuis, people play a rather central role. But doesn’t ecological awareness demand a less anthropocentric perspective?
Kliphuis: “True, but who puts that person less central? That change of mentality is ultimately up to the individual himself. No one else is going to do that for us. Yes, at some point the earth, but that is a scenario that I would like to avoid.”
A version of this article also appeared in NRC in the morning of October 7, 2021
Suppose you could visit your great-great-grandchildren with a time machine. There you are around 2150, a living room in Amsterdam mound or Amersfoort aan Zee. On the other side of the window glass, a world that is on average about three degrees warmer than it is now. At a certain point, the descendants ask the inevitable question: “What did you actually do when it became clear that something was wrong with the climate?”
Violinist and composer Tim Kliphuis (1974) regularly asks himself this question of conscience, he says one rainy morning at his kitchen table in Hilversum. What would he answer? “In any case, I want to be able to say truthfully that as an artist I did what was within my capabilities.”
He has been adding the artistic deed to the word for one and a half years now. During the first lockdown he wrote The Five Elements, an ensemble work about our dealings with the planet. The album is now to listen to on Spotify. His latest piece will be heard this weekend in the NTR Saturday Matinee. Under the baton of conductor Lawrence Renes, the Radio Philharmonic Orchestra will premiere Phoenix Reborn, a triple concert with a green message. Soloists: cellist Ella van Poucke, pianist Michiel Borstlap and Kliphuis himself on violin.
urge
If you take a look at Tim Kliphuis’ CV, you will initially find nothing that points to ardent musical eco-engagement. He studied classical violin at the Conservatory of Amsterdam, specialized in gypsy jazz, and toured with gypsy legends such as Fapy Lafertin and the Rosenberg Trio. With his own Tim Kliphuis Trio he has been exploring a broader style palette since 2005, ranging from jazz and classical to minimal and folk.
And yet, the fate of the earth has always been close to his heart, says Tim Kliphuis. A question of an environmentally conscious upbringing, complete with summer camps as a youth ranger of the World Wildlife Fund. With the corona crisis (“also an acute consequence of how we treat the earth”), the urge to speak out grew. “All the more so because I believe that art has an important role to play here. Science and politics approach the problem rationally. That’s good, but we also have to learn to feel the challenges of our time. Music offers an excellent opportunity here. She speaks straight to the heart.”
My music is about space to reflect on our relationship to nature
What affects Kliphuis, father of three, is the impact that the ecological crisis has on the younger generation. Last fall he went on a film version of The Five Elements to secondary schools to talk about the climate. “Then you hear twelve- or thirteen-year-olds say that it gives them sleepless nights. I think that’s terrible. Young people are acutely aware of the urgency of the problem. But at the same time they are powerless, because they are hardly listened to and the current rulers show little decisiveness.”
Looking forward
Klipthuis thinks that this problem is based on a question of time: “If we really want to take young and future generations seriously, we will have to learn to look further ahead. So don’t think in terms of four or eight years, but in decades and centuries. Only then can we face this crisis.”
In the three parts of Phoenix Reborn Kliphuis therefore unfolds a musical view of the distant future. The point of departure is a bird’s-eye view of our modern era, outlined in jazzy rhythms, babbling brass and driving percussion. “A kind of industrial city music”, according to the composer.
A blistering climax is followed by a modest solo for the cello by Ella van Poucke. “In a way, this sounds like the stillness that we all experienced during the lockdowns,” explains Kliphuis. “It is music that is about space – space to reflect on our relationship to nature.”
Finally, an energetic finale, for which Kliphuis sought inspiration in folk music. “I wanted to write positive, earthy music. Back to the roots. She expresses a sustainable future, in which a reborn humanity has learned to live in harmony with the earth.”
Remarkable: in the narrative sketched by Kliphuis, people play a rather central role. But doesn’t ecological awareness demand a less anthropocentric perspective?
Kliphuis: “True, but who puts that person less central? That change of mentality is ultimately up to the individual himself. No one else is going to do that for us. Yes, at some point the earth, but that is a scenario that I would like to avoid.”
A version of this article also appeared in NRC in the morning of October 7, 2021