Lament of a classical misfit

Apparently, I am not a normal teen. This is because I don't give a heck about today's leading musical artists.

I can't differentiate between My Chemical Romance and Good Charlotte.
I don't hear any distinction between Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift, and The Jonas Brothers and Linkin Parkcould be the same band for all I know.

I can, however, give you an overview of Beethoven's 32 piano sonatas, or take you through a quick history of Mozart's tragic life, all the while drooling over my favourite concert pianist, Evgeny Kissin (was he a hottie when he was younger, and anyway, who can resist the name?).

I am, in short, a classically trained child who is blissfully ignorant of the sounds of "heavy metal" and "hard rock"- what is it with these names of rock genres, anyway, and the trend of naming "music'"after painfully solid substances?

Ever since primary school, I would find myself practising a Bach prelude instead of dancing around to the Vengaboys "Boom boom boom boom! I want you in my room, let's spend the night together, together in my room!".* And while I attended piano competitions in my prim little concert dress, my friends would be frolicking about in glittery pink outfits at the school disco, sipping soft drink and having the time of their lives. The next morning I'd realise how different I was to my friends after hearing their excited chatter about the disco.

But I never realised how unlike rock and classical music were until intermediate school rolled around, and naïve little me unhesitatingly signed up to be keyboardist in the school rock band. "You have wonderful technique," the music teacher praised me when I auditioned for the part. "Who's your favourite singer?"

"Um ..."

Rock band was a strange experience for me. For one thing, I had to play the same thing at the same time as most of the other instruments - I just couldn't see the point. Didn't it sound boring? For another, the most interesting part of the music was the "vocalist", who sang the same tune over and over again, just with different words each time. But what bugged me most was how loud it all was.

Even with the speakers pointed away from the stage, I could hear the shriek of the vocal part ringing in my ears, the harsh throbbing of the guitar chords that juddered through my entire body and the unrelenting Crash! Bang! of the drums behind me.

Just last week, I saw a poster that said if the music sounds "too loud, you're too old". I was 11 when I decided rock music was too loud for my tastes.

Now I'm in high school, the crack between classical and rock music seems larger than ever. While everyone is familiar with the latest chart-topping single, only a precious few know classical music other than the "da da da DUM, Da Da Da DUMMMM ..." of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony.

One just wishes classical music would gain more popularity in New Zealand, if only to make things easier for musical misfits like me.

I hear stories of places like Vienna and Berlin where the classical music masters are worshipped like ancient heroes and gods, and although that's a little too farfetched for little New Zealand, I still have a dream that one day this nation will rise up out of its obsession with electrically amplified noise and listen carefully, if only for just a moment, to the simple beauty of a single Chopin nocturne.

*Vengaboys. Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom! from The Party Album! Strictly Rhythm. 1998.

Cherry Ngan, Year 13, Hillcrest High School