Power
'I Confess Color, I Confess Sound'
Her goal was not to become a musician. "I remember very clearly standing on stage in Carnegie Hall and receiving a standing ovation. I looked into the room and thought: you can't afford not to do anything with this." And she did. Four albums, sold-out halls everywhere, an Edison award: the world at her feet. MASTERS spoke to Karsu Dönmez (Amsterdam, 1990) a day after her intimate performance at College Hotel.
Donate now Giro555.
You were named after your parents' hometown, Karsu Köyü. Do you ever come there?
“We used to spend every summer holiday there. My parents did that very consciously. They wanted to show us what it could have been like: living in a village, where you have to go to the farmer if you want milk. For a few weeks a year we were in the middle of nature, we had nothing at all, back to basics. Not that we are very spoiled, but in the Netherlands you have many more opportunities. Karsu is quite an artistic name in Turkish. In fact, many people think it is my stage name. It means 'snow water'. It just makes me love summer, haha.”
What was your childhood like?
“My parents wanted to raise us in a very diverse way and introduced us to art, culture and sports. My sister and I were both competitive swimmers – she is now a swimming teacher – and we both took music lessons. I also enjoyed designing dresses on paper and dreamed that one day I would wear such dresses. When I was eight, I wanted to be able to see in the future how I would fare at the age of thirty. And now I would like to go back in time and say to my eight-year-old self: 'You did it! You're on stage with that glittery dress.'”
At the age of six you already wanted to become a pianist.
“I had seen a man with flowing hair playing the piano on television and knew: I am going to do that too! Later I found out who that man was: Jan Vayne. The passion in his playing especially appealed to me. It took a while before my parents were convinced. First I tried cello and clarinet for a year. But I still wanted piano. That costs something, while my parents were just saving for a car. Eventually a white leased piano came into the house. 'Not until you For Elise can play, we'll decide whether to keep the piano,' my mother said. Within weeks I played it by heart. The car had to wait a little longer, haha.”
Who was your role model?
“Chopin was my great hero, because of the beautiful graceful lines.”
Did you immediately have your own sound?
“I was able to analyze songs at a young age, because I learned to produce and build songs. With my penchant for classical music, my parents with their own choice of music and a sister who listened to hip-hop, I got a taste of the different cuisines in the music world. I enjoyed putting all those puzzle pieces of styles together. This is how I created my own sound. What I still do now: jazz, Turkish, blues, Latino, fado, flamenco... I think it also has to do with the fact that I come from Amsterdam. Look around you on the tram: you don't see that in Istanbul – so many different nationalities.”
From the age of fourteen you were asked to perform in public.
“One of the first performances was at a gala at the Krasnapolsky. There I was scouted by people from the American embassy. They thought I was so talented that they gave me one scholarship for the University of Rhode Island. So I went to America when I was sixteen. That was Huge! Under the title The Leaders of the Future – deliciously American! – I attended the Summer School there. I ended up in a choir, received art and music lessons and there were lectures by Bill Clinton, among others. He saw me perform in Carnegie Hall and when he came to speak in Friesland in 2011, he also saw me play. We had a nice chat then – he plays the saxophone himself. And I received another letter from him. I thought my mother was playing a joke on me. "Karsu, there's a letter for you here from Bill Clinton." But that was really the case.”
When did you know that you wanted to make music your job?
“When I was nineteen. It was such a strange time. I was in the cinema with my mother. My sister called: there had been burglars in our house, she had caught them red-handed. We head straight to Osdorp. There were police. And my father also rushed home from his restaurant. When we were all sitting at the table, my father said he had the feeling he was being watched. Of course he had his business, often cash in his pocket. 'I've been stalked for weeks by 'world keeps turning' or something like that.' My father was never home when DWDD was broadcast, he knew a lot. Me: 'Dad, what did you say? That's the coolest television program!' A week later I was there and in the broadcast Matthijs mentioned my father's restaurant, where I played the piano almost every evening (the now closed Kilim on the Ceintuurbaan; ed.). The restaurant's phone was ringing off the hook from that day on. Lines were waiting outside for a table. At one point the guests had to come in shifts. My father didn't know what he was experiencing! The hustle and bustle continued for years. I actually played there for five or six years. At some point my father pulled the plug. He thought it was unacceptable for people to have to buy a ticket for thirty euros for a performance of mine in the small hall of the Concertgebouw, while I performed for free in his restaurant later that same evening. He said, 'You have to become more exclusive.' Then we decided to give one big concert in Muziekgebouw aan 't IJ, where everyone could attend. Then we were done. We referred everyone who wanted to reserve a table in the restaurant to the concert. We sold out in just a few weeks. I wanted to become the best in terms of content. I set that goal for myself. I decided to go to the conservatory.”
But you weren't accepted...
“That was a huge downer. But afterwards I'm happy with how it went. It has given me a lot of perseverance, it has made me who I am, it has taught me that there is not just one path to success, to your goal. Looking back now, I understand the conservatory very well. I was discovering all kinds of things about myself, I was working on my own style... And if I need string players myself, I do require that they have completed their studies at the conservatory. I don't feel like messing around in the studio. I experienced that once – the biggest mistake of my life. I did the entire production myself, rented a studio. There I gave the hired cellist the scores I had written. She said casually: 'Oh, but I can't read.' We could all go home together.”
No conservatory, what path did you map out for yourself then?
“I did a year of preparatory training at the Jazz Academy, was taught by Xander Nichting in the early years, later took private lessons with teachers from the conservatory – singing by Esra Dalfidan and Astrid Seriese, piano by Ferial Karamat Ali – and learned a lot from practice. : for example, what do you do on stage when someone else is playing a solo? How are you going to look at it? I also learned a lot via the internet. How does Ray Charles play that line? Why that chord progression? How do you write a score for strings? I started working with many different people and instruments, which now also allows me to write for orchestras – I know how almost every instrument works. I formed a band, signed a management contract with Sony. And was able to sign with the major record companies. But I didn't do that. The advantage of my young age was that I realized the power of the internet. I foresaw that people wouldn't buy records anymore and that's why I started my own record company. I think the major record companies of that time dropped the ball. Moreover, I have retained my freedom. Now I can go where I want, wear and make up what I want, play what I want… Make my own plans.”
What was your first big plan?
“Making a studio album. That was Confession (2012), a collaboration with producer duo Nelson & Djosa. The meaning of the title? I confess color, I confess sound: this is the music I want to make. And I wanted to go public with that.”
In this day and age you can approach few people live. Do you use social media to stay in touch with your audience?
“The first two weeks of corona I really thought 'what is happening here?'. I always believed that my sector, art, is a luxury. It's a luxury to go to the theater, to buy an album. That is not a basic necessity of life. I just had to accept that, I had chosen this profession. Only during corona did I discover that art is indeed a basic necessity of life, because it connects people. People are looking for something to hold on to. I then became very active on social media. Around Easter I gave a garden concert for my neighbors. My father filmed that and that video went completely viral. I did the Empty Concertgebouw Sessions. I was scheduled to play at the Concertgebouw in November, but that concert was postponed to May 13, 2021 due to the corona measures. The Concertgebouw had an empty hall available and asked if I would like to perform there. ”
Your third album, Colors, was released in the fall of 2015. Jazzy, playful and cheerful compositions. Where does creating a song begin?
“A beat, a lyric, a melody. And I am currently mainly inspired by books; I read a lot. Two weeks ago I read the most beautiful book of my life: If cats disappeared from the world by Genki Kawamura. The book is about: What if you know you have another week to live? What would you do then?"
In 2016 you received the audience award from the Jazz Edisons for Colors. What did that prize do to you?
"I did not expect it. Of course I had put on my most beautiful dress, because I was nominated. And then my name was called. I was crying when I was presented with the award. Especially because I had not been admitted to the conservatory, the Edison was a confirmation, a relief…”
…a fat middle finger?
"Also. I received the award, but it's not just about me. I may be the one directing, but I have a great team around me that has been working with me for years. People who dare to say to my face: I disagree with this. I can act cool and say I know it all, but that's not the case. Some have an even better idea, an even better lighting plan… I am very happy with my team.”
Your fourth album is called Karsu (2019). Why your own name?
“I really want to live the way I want. I want to be true to myself, make my own choices. That's what this record is about. The message of the song Sana Ne – loosely translated: mind your own business – is: 'Try to break free from that eternal pressure of the opinions of others. Decide for yourself your choice of study, who you marry and whether you want children.' Us women are often asked: Are you married yet? Do you already have children? My friend is not asked that.”
You have your Edison, you have descended the stairs of the Concertgebouw... What else do you want?
“I notice that I can also offer affection, comfort and cheerfulness through social media. But I miss the people very much. I do feel lonely during a garden performance. I can't wait for a performance in a full Concertgebouw. I want that."
