Tuesday Music

Tuesday Music

Copenhagen

Barnehave on Østerbrogade wants deaf music teacher.

Director through interpreter: "Different perspective."

Perspective. Like deaf is craft beer. Something interesting.

STADSDEL mat. IKEA Amager. 149 kr. Plus tax 186.25. But membership card so 149.

Tuesday 9:00. Kids on mat.

Drew on A4 paper:
- Blue circle
- Red triangle
- Blue circle

"What's that?" Emil. Five. Oticon hearing aids, beige.

"Twinkle Twinkle."

"No it's not."

"What then."

"Shapes."

"Yes. Sound shapes."

Astrid (teacher, fifty-something, lanyard): "This isn't curriculum."

Interpreter doesn't translate. 300 kr/hour. Only translates nice parts.

But can read lips since age four. Rigshospitalet. Speech therapy Tuesdays Thursdays.

"What's curriculum?" signed to Astrid.

"Real music."

"Show me real."

Hummed something.

"Can't see humming."

"But—"

"Draw it."

Couldn't.

Flat

Nora crying. Three months yesterday. Also deaf. Genetics.

Martin cooking: "Work?"

"Bad."

Floor vibrating. Holsteinsgade 47, 3rd floor. 1892. Pine boards.

Picked up Nora. Showed paper. Purple scribbles from today.

Stopped crying.

"She sees," Martin signed. Wooden spoon still in hand.

"Or gas."

"No look."

Eyes tracking purple.

Drew new one. Dots. Silver marker. Spaced far apart.

Eyes closing.

"Music?" Martin asked.

"Lullaby."

"Which."

"Brahms."

"Doesn't look like Brahms."

"What's Brahms look like."

"German?"

Both laughed. Nora startled. Felt the laughing through my chest probably.

Wednesday

Emil's mother. Pressed suit. Law firm ID badge.

"Emil says you draw music."

"Yes."

"Show me."

Water. Actual water. On paper. Added blue watercolor. Watched it run.

"What's that."

"Handel. Water Music."

"But—"

"Water music. With water."

Emil: "Mama I hear it AND see it."

"How."

"Same place in my head."

Mother staring at blue running down paper. That face.

Stockholm

Moderna Museet. Accessibility coordinator interview.

Swedish director. British accent: "We have audio guides. Twelve languages."

"Visual guides?"

"The art is visual."

"For sound installations."

"Those are sound."

"So deaf people can't access them."

Silence.

Walked to Gallery 3. Sound installation. Felt bass through concrete floor.

Drew it. Brown lines down. Like roots. Yellow dots where treble probably was. Can't feel treble. But know it exists.

Security: "No drawing."

"Not on walls."

"What are you doing."

"Translating."

Showed paper.

"That's... the sound?"

"My version."

42,000 SEK monthly. January start.

Barnehave

Last day. Hired Royal Danish Academy graduate. Music degree.

Emil crying. Actual tears. Snot.

"Want color music."

Drew his name-song. E=green (grass green). M=blue (ocean blue). I=silver. L=orange (sunset orange).

"Keep," I signed.

He folded it. Put in pocket.

Astrid: "This confused them."

"So?"

"Education should clarify."

"For who."

Nothing.

"For WHO."

Still nothing.

Home

Bought same mat. IKEA Amager again. 149 kr. No tax this time. Membership card.

Nora on it.

Martin: "Fuckers."

"She'll see you swear."

"She's three months."

"She's deaf not blind."

"How does swearing look."

"Like that." Pointed at his face.

Phone. Emil's mother: "He won't stop drawing songs. Teacher concerned."

"So?"

"Can you teach him?"

"Expensive."

"How much."

"300/hour."

"Fine. Tuesdays?"

"Tuesdays."

Night

All three in bed. 22:47.

Drew in air. Finger. Nothing there.

Nora's hand moved. Following? Random? Who knows.

"What's that," Martin signed in dark.

"Our sound."

"What's it sound like."

"Like this." Showed empty air.

"Perfect."

Was it.

Tomorrow Tuesday. Emil 9:00. 300 kr.

Teaching hearing boy to see sound.

While deaf.

Teaching music on IKEA mat.

149 kr.

Where everything happens.

Or nothing.

Same thing.

Tuesday music.

That's all.