Twenty-five years young, and fully in the saddle. After her studies, taking a quiet look at the big bad world was out of the question for Mathilde Wantenaar.
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‘I draw from myself when I compose. My hope and my commitment is to transcend my limited self in what I write, otherwise it's just a page from my diary,’ says Wantenaar. ‘I want to share a feeling that is universal, in which people can recognise themselves.
‘Creating something from yourself should especially not be confused with self-expression. People are not waiting for me, but for a universal value that carries quality. Whether I can do all that, I don't know, but I try again with every piece.’
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‘I want to engage with music in as many ways as possible. Making music myself is crucial, knowing how it feels to perform music. What am I doing to the musicians, there on that stage? I love the lilting, the voice, the lyrical. And also the lightness in French music, and simplicity, I got that from my father who is a jazz musician.’
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‘When I compose, I disappear off the radar and I can fall silent for my friends just like that for six months. I don't have a smartphone; I find the constant outside messaging difficult to cope with. I am also a perfectionist, which is a strength and a pitfall at the same time. Basically, I want to do everything accurately and well. But then really everything: making a sandwich takes me a very long time, cleaning up, everything.
‘I have no speed and can't act on the fly. My sense of responsibility is enormous. You need that in this profession too. Composing is a precision job, you have to think about every accent, everything has to be worked out perfectly.’
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Wantenaar's perfectionism also manifests itself during the interview. No idea comes up empty, she questions every thought. ‘I make it very difficult for myself, yes, right. I find every word tricky, everything is more nuanced than you would initially think. Even when it comes to music.
‘Relevant, topical, innovative: I find these complicated words to apply to art - and therefore also to music. I write down what I myself as a musician would like to have in front of me to perform. I have the confidence that if I write with integrity something I am convinced of, it will be worth performing.’
‘The foundation on which I want to base my life is something I think about a lot. Beauty, truth, goodness and love are for me the foundation from which I want to act. Also when I write music. But I'm not a saint, mind you. I don't walk around permanently with a great sense of love for the outside world. I can go totally berserk and become furious at everything and everyone around me. That poem by Gorter, ‘These are the pale, pale weeks’, is right up my street.
‘I wouldn't want to miss life, but I don't just find it easy either. I don't expect there to come a point in my life where I am perfectly happy and then will remain so forever. When you look for a good way to be in life, you look for a good way to deal with the moments when you don't feel happy. That starts, I think, with acknowledging that those moments are allowed to be there, and that there is nothing wrong with you then. During my conservatoire studies, I went through a difficult period. I was lost, scared, insecure. I think I've landed a bit now.’