Arnold Veeman is now also getting laughs: ‘I’m not used to that at all’

He made with Mien Lutje Laif a classic in Groningen pop music, wrote with #Lalala a huge hit – which, however, was never recognized as such – and worked with renowned artists, conductors, ensembles and orchestras. But to earn his living, Arnold Veeman (50) now teaches part-time at the Roelof van Echten College in Hoogeveen.

You teach music here?

“Yes, since February this year. I have a teaching qualification for music history and composition. Although I did not study school music, I am allowed to teach.”

How do you feel about that? Does it have any similarities with performance?

“Yes, in the sense that I also want to convey information here. But what I find especially important is the aspect of talent development. Of course I have a career in music and want to help people gain experience. That has helped me in the past too. I taught at the Academy of Pop Culture in Leeuwarden for a while, until I became too busy with my own work. So writing music, performing, that kind of thing.”

You also taught in Kloosterburen, where you lived in the old primary school.

“That’s right, of course I had enough space there. But that had a downside: heating such an old building became prohibitively expensive. Especially when all performances were canceled due to corona. Until then I played fifty to sixty times a year, now that is a lot less.”

Long story short: you moved to Borger. While the Groningen country is such an important theme in your work.

“I would also like to go back. But then that option must be there. Maybe I would like to live closer to the city than before, or maybe even in the city. I was born there and think it is a wonderful place. But Borger is also beautiful. The Drenthe landscape is certainly very beautiful.”

Is your departure from Groningen the reason why you abandoned the dialect in your new songs?

“Well, it is especially nice that people in the room understand what it is about. Even if you perform in Zeist, for example. But in my new program Friends there is simply a block in which the Groningen songs are given their place. In fact, there will be next year Mien Lutje Laif twenty years. I am in contact with the Haydn Youth String Orchestra to do something special with it.”

That is characteristic of you: you cannot be pinned down to one particular genre.

“I notice that this can sometimes be complicated for bookers and for the public. Because what can they expect next? For myself, it all comes from the same source. I once started making radio plays. Writing stories, decorating with sound design and music. And then in a funny way I added my own voices. I made a whole world out of that. And everything fit into that.”

Could it be that you will be making classical work again in two years? Or just metal?

“That could just be possible. I find Swedish death metal in particular very fascinating. I don’t really know why either. But take someone like Tomas Skogsberg, who records those gritty bands somewhere in a hut near Stockholm. That boy puts together his own mixing desk and microphones and that is precisely what creates a sound that appeals to me so much. If I’m driving through a forest in Sweden and this happens again, I have to play the music loudly. That fits perfectly. At least: in my world.”

In an earlier interview you talked about the sounds in your foster parents’ farm in Pieterzijl. About how you reproduced the creaking trusses, the tension springs and the squeaking stable doors in your music.

“I heard how the sounds were different in every room, that the doors all had their own sound. The transitions of spaces. It’s funny that you ask about it, because I don’t really think about that that often anymore. But of course that development has continued, even now that I have passed the age of 50. I don’t even notice it anymore, it happens automatically. My new songs are in the gipsy jazz corner. But then I listen to real gipsy jazz and I think: no, that’s not it.”

There are all kinds of influences in it, but I can’t really put a label on it.

“Ultimately, I think, my songs are very close to chansons. That has always been the case. Even in my metal there is a melodic element. I sometimes hear that people who like Spinvis also appreciate my music. I can imagine something about that. Maybe it is due to the unique way of recording, in which nothing is suppressed and you can hear everything.”

In your recent texts you often come across as witty.

“Partly thanks to my foster parents. ‘Boy,’ they said, ‘that music of yours… Are you happy?’ That got me thinking. Because of course I’m not just nostalgic and melancholic. My foster father loved George Brassens very much; cheerful and simple music. That was close to what I really liked. My new songs are a bit more prosaic than before. And with two guitars and a double bass, musically quite simple.”

Now you play your full evening program ‘Friends’. How do you describe it yourself? Kleinkunst? Or is it going towards cabaret?

“Yes, I think it’s going there a little bit. Although the emphasis is really on the music. That’s the way I prefer to tell my stories. Basically it’s about my friends, past and present. People I still keep in touch with. They are true, beautiful, stupid or sometimes downright crass stories that I have turned into songs.”

And so there is a lot to laugh about.

“Yes, of course, and I’m not used to that at all. The first time I even blurted out my lines when there was laughter in the audience. ‘What do we get now? Ah, they think it’s funny.’ It feels very nice to be able to evoke that emotion with music.”