Questions and Answers
Q. Who’s Tessa Brinckman and what’s this page about?
A.
Greetings. You’ve come to the right place.
I’m a classical flutist, human being, and creative sort, in no particular order. I’m originally from New Zealand, living on the Upper Left Side of the United States. My official music bio can be found on the collaborators page. My unofficial bio creeps into in my music, writing and photography, and not always as an invited guest.
This website not only has the obligatory PR blather, but also some of the creative things that feed me – and maybe you. So this page is, therefore, “Q.&A.” I love good questions, and sometimes I even have good answers.
You’ll note this is not a blog. A blog sounds like a nefarious thing you deposit on someone’s doorstep, and then sprint away before anyone sees you. Nope, this is just a place where questions that I've been asked – about the music, art and culture etc. – can have a place to hang.
Feel free to contact me with your enjoyable and illuminating questions.

The same questions crop up, now and again. What are we doing? Why are we doing it? Is it really worth it? Are we having any fun? What will we do next?
Q. What's new?
A. Terry Longshore and I have begun our artistic collaborations together this year as Caballito Negro. We're also playing for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival this year in the Clay Cart, and I am enjoying getting to know so many good, kind and creative people. I can feel old ideas I've been carrying around for 20 years re-emerging, and finding places to grow. It has been a lovely way to regenerate and rethink what makes a great art. One thing I know for sure - an artist's heart has to be full and generous to do the work that really counts.
Q. Your CD has a koto. What is it, and how is it played?
A.
The koto is a Japanese member of the zither family (where the strings are parallel to the sounding board, unlike a harp where strings are perpendicular to sounding board).
It has 13 strings and is cradled by wooden supports on its back, over which the player plucks the strings, using movable bridges that make various tunings possible. Its range is B below middle C up to the 2nd octave C after Middle C (or, B3 up to C6).
Japanese music traditionally uses pentatonic scales, but since the koto bridges are movable, there is some flexibility, lending itself to contemporary modes.
The bass koto or jushichi-gen has 17 strings that are much thicker than those of the koto. Initially the bass koto was used only in ensemble music, but gradually solos and duos with shakuhachi were composed for it, and it's even been used in pop music (eg. the Japanese pop band Rin) .
Tessa Brinckman and Mitsuki Dazai have performed an interesting concert program for western flutes (including baroque flute) and bass koto. The bass koto sounds remarkably like a lute in the context of baroque music.

Koto players (unless you are naturally endowed like the furry one here) pluck the strings with the right thumb, index and middle finger, using ivory picks. Click on repertoire for more info.
Q. How did you find out about the Owl House in Nieu Bethesda?
A.
I had a Let’s Go guidebook to South Africa that described a house of glass in the desert created by Outsider artist, Helen Martins. Glass and deserts are some of my favourite things, so I just had to go. Rented a car for the first time in my life, driving on the left for the first time in my life, therefore in a pool of sweat, in winter. I drove straight from Grahamstown to Nieu Bethesda. And fell in love.
Click here for links to great information about Outsider Artists and Helen Martins.
Q. What was your inspiration for your composition, Glass Sky?
A. I had been studying Indian raga music, and one raga in particular, Multani. This intense, majestic raga comes from the region of Multan, now Pakistan, where it is very hot and desert-dry. Given Helen Martins love of exoticism, and the landscape of the Karoo, Multani seemed like a natural fit. And not only because of the desert and Martin's numerous references to the East in her work, but also because of her emotional intensity, and her sense of isolation. I didn’t want to stereotype her life as just sad, or wretched, despite the tragedies she suffered. In fact I felt she celebrated life, wth her wry sense of humor, taking the lemons she had received and making lemonade.
The title “Glass Sky” comes from when I was traveling to the Owl House, and stopped at a desolate place - a rest stop, with one tree, a fence, and a few plastic bags blowing about in the wind. And then I noticed a swarm of small birds, far away, flying in a beautiful formation in the big sky. I thought it was perfect. The sky has a distant glassy look to it, in winter in the Karoo.
And of course, the Owl House itself is all about glass. Also, the title refers somewhat to the feeling of compression and reflection that Martins was forced to undergo, (think “glass ceiling”) since she wasn’t really free, externally or internally.
Q. You talk in the Inner Landscapes film about creativity and Helen Martins - can you say more about that?
A. The creative process is about merging with what’s around you – to good and bad effect. And in my mind, it’s all good, even if the experience ends up being loathsome and not to be repeated. It seems to me that we are here to live, experience, enact our deepest selves, then disappear into the dust. Martins was an untraditional woman, trapped in an unforgiving country that marginalized most people. She didn’t fit the mould and she couldn’t if she tried. At the same time she wanted to connect, and making art made her feel loved and loveable. She merged herself with the natural world, the desert, the exotica that she found in everyday objects, and distilled what needed to be expressed. This is what great artists do. They hook into the collective unconscious, pick up on what needs to be said “right now”, and realize it.
Q. Can you comment on Helen Martin's status as an artist?
A. Well, I have my own definitions about this, whether you call yourself an artist or you just say, "I make art". Other people probably define it differently for themselves. But here's mine….
Being an artist means you have a public. Having a public changes you, whether you like it or not – either you’re feeding off it, or resisting it, but it still shapes who you are.
Being a maker of art is simply not having a public – you do it in private, and it’s not up for public scrutiny.
So, under these definitions, as an Outsider Artist Helen Martins simply made art for a long time. Eventually when she had a public, she was an artist. Neither label necessarily comments on the quality of the work. You can be a bad artist and have a public. Or you can make art, with your work not being seen by anyone, and be brilliant.
I love Martins' work. Typical of many Outsider artists, she longed for the kind of recognition that formally trained artists often feel is their due. She did have some recognition towards the end of her life (and Athol Fugard writes about her in "Road to Mecca").
Q. Whom did Helen Martins work with?
A.
The men who worked under Helen Martins' direction at various times - Koos Malgas, Jonas Adams and Piet Van Der Merwe - were not visible under the apartheid regime. They were coloured, and Martins was white. We're never going to know the true depth of their relationship with her, apart from surviving anecdotes and some empirical evidence. There has been some controversy in recent years about the authorship, and therefore financial legacies, of the Owl House. Virtually all the work is identified as that of Helen Martins, reminiscent of the traditional studio relationship of master artist to assistants.
Martins was prolific. Grinding glass, and working with concrete and wire is hard physical work, so assistance was necessary. My own feeling is that, in terms of creative satisfaction and mutual support, there was more of a partnership than just employment. This is how collaboration is, often subtle and unspoken. You’ll never create the same thing by yourself. Something enters your group, a kind of spirit or entity perhaps, that is specific to the group composition, and goes away when it changes.
Q. Which paintings by Miro did Mark Fish set to music on the CD Glass Sky?
A.
Mark Fish was commissioned to write Pictures of Miró, which we recorded on Glass Sky. It is a set of musical depictions of eleven paintings by the Catalan artist Joan Miró, ordered chronologically to lead listeners through the artist's surreal world of fantasy and imagination - which was also deeply affected by the Spanish Civil War. Thematically, the entire piece is structured around the self- portraits of Miró, each of which he painted in very different styles and at very different times in his life.
Dog, Barking at the Moon, 1926
The Lutanist (Dutch Interior I), 1928
Girl Practicing Gymnastics, 1932
Woman, 1934
Man and Woman in Front of Pile of Excrement - 1936
Self-Portrait, 1937
The Escape Ladder, 1939
The Nightingale's Song at Midnight and the Morning Rain, 1940
The Red Sun Gnaws at the Spider, 1948
Self-Portrait, 1960
We can't show any Miro images here because of copyright issues. But go to the links page to find most of these works by Miro.