I started whistling when I was about four years old. We lived in the Eindhoven area of the Netherlands, and my dad whistled all the time. It was impossible for him to whistle out of tune. He whistled a lot of Bach, but also the Beatles. We whistled TV theme tunes together – him whistling one note, and me the next. I immediately produced a nice tone. Within a few years, I was better than he was.
By 2003, when I was 34, I was working as a psychiatric nurse, and had three young kids. That year we had a big Christmas dinner for the family, and I remember whistling along to cheesy tunes like Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer. My sister-in-law asked me to stop several times. At one point, I said: “If there was a competition, I would enter.” Two weeks later, I received a text from her: “Geert, you’re going to America. I’ve just entered you for the World Whistling Championships.”
The auditorium was in a high school in Louisburg, North Carolina. Everything was overwhelming. There were about 30 contestants – some terrible, some very good. Some people were really, really competitive. It lasted two days – and I won. The prize was a big trophy covered with American flags and eagles. I had to go through customs with three trophies: one for classical, one for popular and one for grand champion.
After that, I started receiving my first invitations to do concerts – mostly classical, accompanied by symphony orchestras, string quartets or, sometimes, just a piano. I was aware that I was the odd one out on the line-ups, and I had yet to turn professional.
Then in 2007, I was asked to whistle in a big church in Leiden by an entertainment company. I knew it would be special – the queen of the Netherlands, Queen Beatrix, would be there.
Normally at a concert there is a little security, but this was another level, with sniffer dogs. A lot of the performers, who included musicians and ballet dancers, were pretty nervous. When the queen came in, a weird frisson went through the audience. I whistled Czardas by Vittorio Monti; it’s a virtuoso violin piece that starts dramatically, then gets faster and faster; in the third part there are some really high notes.
There was a circus performer in a feathered bird costume, hidden in the church ceiling. When I started my second piece, In A Sentimental Mood by Duke Ellington, she descended on a hoop and landed on the grand piano. Then I helped my “bird” down.
The queen was very appreciative: it was a special moment. I’m not a big royalist, but I saw what she means to a lot of people.
Now, I’m a professional whistler. I made the transition last summer; I had been working with homeless people, and felt close to burnout. Then Cirque du Soleil emailed me to say they were looking for a whistler. I went to Montreal to audition and they hired me in October; I’m travelling with them at the moment. I open the Corteo show as the ringmaster. At one point I whistle Twinkle Twinkle Little Star as beautifully as I can. Then I go into a duet with the violinist, backed by an orchestra.
I do between 75 and 100 concerts a year and earn twice as much as I did as a nurse. I also run whistling workshops. I practise all day, but it’s hard for me not to whistle. I like to whistle recorder concertos by Vivaldi, but also jazz or blues. I love to improvise.
The whistling community is getting bigger and bigger, and we often meet each other at tournaments. I’ve judged the past two World Whistling Championships. There’s a Japanese whistler, Akiko Shibata, who I think is brilliant. She’s one of my favourite whistlers right now.
If people want to get into whistling, and they can afford it, they should go to the championships. There are also videos on the internet that can give you a feel for the quality of some of the top whistlers. The best advice is to keep it joyful.
It’s unbelievable that I get to see the world just because I can whistle well. It’s really silly. But the key is not to take it too seriously.
{ SOURCE: The Guardian }
