Gerd was one of the few drum teachers I ever studied with—and the one I worked with the longest. I learned a great deal from him, though not always without resistance on my part.
When I moved to Hannover at age 15, I spent quite a while practicing on my own and trying to play with as many people as possible. Then, all of a sudden, word spread through the local scene: Gerd Wennemuth is coming back to Hannover! Everyone spoke of him with reverence.
I had never heard of him and had to rely entirely on what others told me—this was before the internet, after all. The story was that he was originally from Hanover, had studied and lived in Graz, Austria, and was now returning to take up a teaching position at the Hanover music school. People insisted I absolutely had to study with him.
At the time, I was a rebellious teenager—15 or 16 years old—who thought I already knew everything. I saw myself as one of the best young drummers in Hanover; after all, I was already gigging regularly with professional musicians and barely had time to go to school anymore.
I thought I had it all figured out and didn’t need anyone telling me what to do—but I figured I’d give this teacher a try.
Well, let’s just say he knocked me down a few pegs. I felt like I had to start learning drums all over again.
I still remember our first lesson: he let me play for a while and then said, “Yeah, it swings, but there are definitely some serious technical issues.”
I was taken aback, of course, but I decided to trust that he knew what he was doing—and I practiced as best I could (though I probably could’ve practiced more).
We had our share of clashes during lessons. I was headstrong and stubborn, but he was strong enough to handle it without giving up on me—and for that, I’m deeply grateful.
Years later, when I started teaching the then-underage Christian Lillinger at the conservatory in Dresden, I got a glimpse of what Gerd must have felt teaching me.
And to top it off—he liked the wrong kind of music!
At that point, he was turning away from jazz and moving toward pop, even though in 1984, he had been voted the best jazz drummer living in Austria by Jazz Live magazine.
He placed great importance on timing, precise technique, and sound control and I tried to live up to his standards.
At the time, I could have dismissed him as someone who didn’t understand me or what was important to me. But he did know Sun Ra, the Art Ensemble of Chicago—and once, at his place, I even saw a rare original ESP record by Milford Graves.
He told me stories of his concerts in Austria and tours in South America with the Karlheinz Miklin Trio, alongside Austria’s friendliest bassist, Ewald Oberleitner, and guest appearances by musicians like Art Farmer and Albert Mangelsdorff.
Funny enough, I never actually heard Gerd play jazz live. It wasn’t until years after I’d stopped studying with him that I stumbled upon a record by the Miklin Trio.
Later, I met Karlheinz Miklin’s son—himself an outstanding drummer—who eventually helped me track down video footage of those concerts Gerd had told me about back then.
Just last year, after decades of not seeing each other, I visited Gerd in Hanover. When I left, he gave me two old Paiste cymbals that he used to play all the time.
The video was recorded during a tour of Argentina with the Karlheinz Miklin Trio, sometime between 1984 and 1986. And that’s exactly how I remember Gerd from our lessons—just like in that footage. With Karlheinz Miklin, Ewald Oberleitner on bass, and a drum solo by Gerd Wennemuth.
All the best, dear Gerd—and thank you!
