Willem Vermandere unexpectedly announces his retirement from the stage in a thirty-word message. “The confusion strikes between my rhymes, music and stories. Goodbye beautiful people, be well. Play and sing on and I … keep walking along the streets …”
It sounds so much more poetic than saying that the prefrontal cortex sometimes fails during concerts, that the back is no longer as resilient, as recent visitors to his concerts may have noticed – without seeing a problem, by the way. Vermandere’s long, often enumerative stories also required a good memory.
Vermandere has been on stage for 54 years. Playing on the other side of the country in the evenings, often in the Netherlands: he was a circuit in himself. On stage he had a unique presence, a great craft and a rich musical personality. He was a colourful storyteller, a musician singer and what remained underexposed: a fascinating philosopher. He made his folk music seem simple, but it was the result of planing, filing and hard work.
That was how he had started long ago, a sculptor from Lauwe who briefly visited the monastery but preferred to see the world, and wrote songs regarding it: the people in the countryside and their animals were an early source of inspiration. That field opened up, and he developed a broad spectrum in which war suffering, refugees, individualization and modernity were discussed as well as his own pleasures and “blemishes”.
He got one of those dents in the summer of 1991, when he sang the song “Bange witteman” (Scared White Man) on the Grand Place in Brussels, which called for tolerance towards migrants. A delegation of the then Vlaams Blok marched towards him through the audience, only to be stopped in front of the stage. The experience stayed with him for a long time. He drew insight and strength from it.
Understandable dialect
His use of language was of great importance. Like contemporaries Wannes Van de Velde and Walter De Buck he sang in a dialect, but because he did not want to be “an antique dealer”, he did not keep it pure: the root was West Flemish, the lots were rather Verkavelingsvlaams, which made him sufficiently understandable outside his province. With this he inspired singers such as Wannes Cappelle and Boudy Verleye, aka Brihang.
Over the years he also refined his musical playing. He drew inspiration from classical music by Bach, but also from obscure musicians such as the Armenian duduk player Djivan Gasparyan, to use his bass clarinet to find a deep connection between his polders and his soul. Sometimes he was a bit sarcastic regarding his “rhymes”, unjustly, to make room for that new, instrumental music. His music was most beautiful when he brought both together, a game of recognition and reflection.
With a fixed trio of musicians he had his own style, and the halls were full for that until the last concert, in the Kursaal of Ostend. It is typical that he only announced followingwards that it was over. No farewell concerts for this man, no interviews. He announced today that he will continue to make music at home and work in his studio. There will be more time to read books, in that quiet village of Steenkerke, in the shadow of the Sint-Laurentius church. Through his manager he thanks his audience for those 54 years.
Willem Vermandere cancels all planned concerts: Dranouter (3/8), Kursaal Oostende (Cabaret Festival 14/9), Oostburg (NL, 27/10), Oostkamp (30/11), Oostrozebeke (22/12) and Bree (1/3/25).
