Experience is the biggest teacher

I apologise for my normally over excited titles to these posts. I could go with Blog 1, 2, 3 etc. but that's just a cop out - so I am sticking with the slightly out there titles!

A week and a half ago I was down in London working with players from the London Chamber Orchestra and six composers as well as the two composer mentors, Diana Burrell and Steve Potter. We spent a day (as part of the East Festival) going through the works of James Luff, Chris Garrard, Solfa Carlile, David Futers, Anna Menzies and Tristan Rhys Williams. All of the works were inspired by architecture.

It reminded me yet again just how important experience is. The UK needs to give as many opportunities to its younger generations as its the best way to grow. Every time I come away from doing a concert or working with players I realise how much I still have to learn, how far (or not far!) I have come, and how much I have learned in those few hours I have been conducting, compared to the hours spent studying, watching, listening and reading.

It was of course fantastic for the composers and myself to work with such great musicians, and it had a big impact. However, I think it was just being able to hear their ideas being realised probably taught them more than anything - helped of course by the players realising them so well.

If you want to catch the LCO in concert - they are playing on March 24th (next Wednesday) at St John's Smith Square:

LCO Concert - Brahms, Glass, Chopin - March 24th

And come and hear the compositions in a mini concert on 26th May also at St John's Smith Square:

Six new works by young composers played by LCO musicians

F

New Music - a catching, cumulative disease?

Recently there have been two internet articles that have taken my attention about New Music and the problems of it being 'understood'.

Telegraph

New Music Box

It centers around the recently published book by Philip Ball - 'The Music Instinct' . Ashamedly I have not read it (its on a quite long to-do list!) Philip Ball supposedly argues, or provides support to the idea that a brain will comprehend the music of Bach, Mozart or Beethoven more effectively than that of Webern, Schoenberg or a post-tonal composer. The aforementioned composers present logical patterns and progression within their music that are easier for our brains to decipher and follow. Thankfully, Ball does say 'it would be wrong to dismiss such music as a racket'. So the discussion arising from the book is one that revolves around readily perceptible patterns, cultural conditioning and what is 'natural'. The Telegraph says it shows why joe-blogs cant understand the 'subtleties of the chaotic sounding compositions', and on the 'natural' front David Huron, an expert on music cognition from Ohio State University, says that 'predicting what happens next has obvious survival value' and that post-tonal music has 'no pleasure from accurate prediction'. Dr Timothy Jones of the Royal Academy of Music says that with atonal music 'certain people can learn to appreciate it'.

So what do I think: well the snippets taken out of context do disservice to the Telegraph article, which is probably on a more middling ground than I give it credit for. One of the things people say to me at the end of a new music concert, or 'non new music' friends who are talking about new music - is that they just don't understand it. I think comprehension is an important factor in this. But there are two main areas.

Firstly, I don't 'understand' new music it certainly doesn't make sense to me, but I am not sure much music does. That isn't to say it doesn't culture within me every feeling under the sun. For me listening and appreciating music is not about understanding it, it is about what it makes me feel and the better a piece is the more it makes me feel. This then leads on to my second area.

Confusion seems to cloud some peoples perception of new music. This, I think might be not only to do with the atonal aspect of the work but also due to the approach we take to listening. I think as a race we can try to hard. We live in a world where we continuously work at full tilt and must apply ourselves to everything we do. In terms of cultural enjoyment, we need to understand a film or play's plot, see what a picture is and what it stands for and be able to hum the latest tune.

I didn't 'understand' Rothko's art at all until about four years ago when I did an improvised performance in the Rothko room at the Tate Modern with the National Youth Orchestra. During this improvisation (which I wasn't keen on at the time by the way), I felt a real power coming from the art on the walls (permission to vomit). I think the music helped, but I realised I was looking at the pictures and not really trying to understand them and they just seemed to draw me in. I didn't try, I just let it happen (so to speak). I found it a really difficult thing to do, but it is now something I try and do with all things that I know there is no way I will be able to 'understand' on first hearing or seeing.

New music should be played more than once - or played before and after and in the interval of a concert to help our little grey cells - I find atonal music is a catching, cumulative 'disease'. You have the initial feeling, and then on second, third, fourth hearing it gets better and better (if I like it...) as I suppose I can predict what is coming and take satisfaction in waiting and and then my desire to hear point X in a work is satiated!

So try an experiment - take some Xenakis and don't 'do' just listen and 'feel'!

Step 2: listen to it once each day for a week and see how you feel at the end of the week as opposed to the beginning. Answers on the back of a postcard.

F

P.S effects are much better in a concert.

The Ross is Noise - concert dress, applause and ranting

This Monday Alex Ross gave the annual RPS lecture at the Wigmore Hall, entitled, 'Hold Your Applause: Inventing and Reinventing the Classical Concert'. The text to the talk is available here from the RPS website:

Hold Your Applause: Inventing and Reinventing the Classical Concert

Then on Tuesday Charlotte Higgins of the Guardian released a rumor about the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain allowing it's members to wear anything black for the concerts with the only restrictions being "no strapless, backless, leather or PVC":

"No strapless, backless, leather or PVC"

Ross seemed to concentrate mostly on the whole 'problem' of when to applaud and then more generally focus on broadly approaching the concert experience. For me, the best line is this:

'the radically different personalities of our composers, from Hildegard of Bingen to Jonny Greenwood of Radiohead, demand radically different approaches. The music is bigger than any kind of space we may design for it. '

What do I think of the concert experience? Well firstly it is a performance of a creation. Secondly, people normally have paid more than a cinema ticket to attend, sometimes much more. Thirdly the concert is presented for the audience. When I conduct, I have three major aims: 1. Honour the composer 2. Respect the audience and give them the best experience possible 3. Ensure the orchestra 'enjoy' the experience. I could and probably should add lots of sub-clauses to that statement but I am going to avoid the temptation. Anything that can be done to enhance those 3 points should be done.

Applause: In my perfect 'dream' performance of Tchaikovsky's 6th Symphony (Pathétique) the last movement would always erupt out out of raucous applause for the 3rd movement. It is as if Tchaikovsky wants all to seem perfect and ecstatic but then he surges from the grave, ripping open his shirt, baring his chest and saying 'NO - this is what I really feel'. The best experience is one that is natural - thus the no-clapping dictat enforces a sense of unnatural parameters on the given situation. People should clap when they want. Two really toe curling experiences in relation to audience behavior have happened while I have been at concerts at the Royal Festival Hall. The first was on the re-opening night, Jurowski had just started the Firebird Suite, and from the middle of the stalls came the electronic sounds of Mozart's Symphony No. 40. Jurowski turned around, scowled and restarted the piece. True, they should have turned it off, but it didn't warrant the response it got. He should have stopped and re-started with no glare. The second situation was recently when I was at Vanska's incredible LPO concert of 4th and 5th Sibelius symphonies. There was a lady two rows in front of me, who every time the man sitting in front of me turned the page of his program or moved the slightest inch she turned around in utter disgust. She made quite a lot of noise in the process, caused some amusement from my row and much worse by her actions distracted us all from the music, which is why we were there!

More focused lighting and a darker auditorium I think would help. However, the actual design of the auditorium is so important. I always feel I can relax at Symphony Hall in Birmingham, but not so at the Royal Festival Hall - non backbreaking chairs might help. I am not sold in bringing alcohol into the auditorium, but I do think that no programs are great - sometimes. I love the idea of the Night Shift, Club Karabits (at Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra) and Tonhalle Late:

Club Karabits Tonhalle Late Night Shift

However, the concert experience of overture, concerto and symphony really has its place as well. I am wary of using technology for the sake of being novel, but you don't know until you try. Its easy to add things on and say 'isn't this exciting' but the music must always be at the centre of everything you do - call me conventional, but isn't that the point? Talking is good, but sometimes how about playing it, talking, playing it again later on.

Now, concert dress. BBC Symphony Orchestra have their black suits, shirts and ties, which I think is pretty rubbish. There is your standard tails outfit and also all black open neck - the ladies have the 'luxury' of wearing smart all black. I love the last night of the proms dresses on the ladies in the orchestra but I wouldn't want it every day. Then there is the crazy dress used at one time by the new music ensemble bit20... (it is black but with rubber stamped patterns on!!)

The rumor of the NYO adopting a casual approach to concert dress, I find worrying on several levels. I am sure it is suppose to relax and open up the experience, allowing the music to be the main focus and get away from 'the old prim uniform'. Come on: black shirt, black trousers and the legendary NYO badge is not really prim - nor old - it was introduced about 4 years ago following on from the white shirt / red tie combo, that was pretty horrific and 'school-ified'. People have paid to come to a concert and they expect a level of professionalism. I hope most of the players go with a respectful approach. It could be interesting, but it could end up with a load of teenagers on stage looking scruffy, hair all over the place, and cheapen the whole effect. Also more importantly putting on your concert clothes puts you in a frame of mind, focuses your attitude and prepares you for what you are going to do. Also why black - is it moody? I love the NYO, not only because it gave me the best musical education/experience of my life but also because it performs great music really well. It gets on with the job and you can tell that what really matters is the music.

As a conductor I tend to wear black evening trousers and a chinese come arab shirt thing with no buttons and a collar, oh and red socks. However, when I conducted the Tokyo Phil in Japan I wished I had been wearing tails like them - some of the looks I received as I was coming out of the dressing room were quite telling!

Whatever happens to the concert approach there needs to be respect for what is being performed and who you are performing to and with. There is no quick fix and no right answer - each performance, piece, audience and event is different. What must never be forgotten is that the music you are performing is the most important thing.

F

Pushing things forward and helping along the way

So this Saturday I am conducting players from the London Chamber Orchestra in a composition workshop. We have chosen six pieces and each will be work-shopped by the players, Diana Burrell, Steve Potter and myself - as well as recorded filmed and then reperformed on May 26th at St John's Smith Square.

Having done a similar thing with the Colorado Symphony Orchestra and try to encourage this sort of process with new pieces played by Cambridge University's New Music Ensemble, it is a real pleasure (and I am very excited - I have a list of the players, and trust me I felt like a boy who had been given a new toy!) to be working with the LCO.

The workshop is part of a larger process that started in November with a day of talks around the idea of architecture in music, giving the composers 'food for thought'. The composers then went away and composed a work based on the day and submitted them for selection - we chose six and that's the stage we are at now.

Waiting to hear what a work will actually sound like, I find really unnerving, but also really exciting (I know I have already used that word...). It challenges my ear. Does the piece really sound how I hear it from the paper? It's also as if you are brining something into the world. OK so that is a bit 'arty farty' but it is true. It is like going to see a new work of art you have been reading about in the paper for a few weeks or an opera you have read reviews of. It is about bringing the 'other' or 'removed' into reality.

One of the best things about these types of workshops is the players get feedback from really seasoned (and good!) professionals. It is fine for another composer, teacher or conductor to tell you this or that about your work but when it comes from a player it seems to have more of an effect. If a teacher tells you, 'such and such' is impossible to play then you can secretly tell yourself that they are talking rubbish. But, if the clarinetist of the LCO and London Sinfonietta tells you it can't be played... the likelihood is that unless you get Kari Kriikku to practice it for a year it can't be done. Secretly I love it because it is the closest I get to actually composing - maybe I can suggest one or two things that will make a difference!

So come and listen to the day in conjunction with the East Festival in London:

http://www.lco.co.uk/RVE4c131004979e4324ac5ba14fdc1e09f1,,.aspx

F

Amateur Music - love in a cold climate

I have just returned from conducting an 'amateur wind band' - in ranks of musical snobbery, that must lay pretty low? There are the big symphony orchestras - the corner stone of the musical world, then there are the refined chamber orchestras who strive for a purer cause, then the period bands who like to do things differently and the contemporary ensembles are well, just, edgy. Way below that sit those ensembles who are amateur, and an amateur wind band - shock horror.

Just for those who might be slightly worried that I have gone insane, I don't believe in anyway what I have written above is true. However, a complete cynic, and moron, could interpret the musical hierarchy as such.

As a young conductor being able to work with such an ensemble is a complete gift. I tend to find that the more uncomfortable the situation is, the more I learn. That is not to say the group made me feel uncomfortable - quite the opposite. They are great. However, I am string player by training - and things you blow down to make a noise tend to unsettle me. Then there are all those instruments that you wouldn't see in a Beethoven symphony: baritone sax, euphonium, cornets and so on. Also where are the strings - my safety blanket! I am flanked on either side by flutes, oboes and clarinets!! Then there is the repertoire and compositional style, predominated by arrangements, homophonic writing and tonality. It is a completely different style to what I normally work with. It forces you to think differently, about how to make something work as an entity. But then you have the added factor of the players being amateurs.

Amateur - from the Latin amator - 'lover' via French and Italian. A person who engages in a pursuit as a pastime rather than a profession. However, it is the derogatory meaning that I believe does amateur music such harm: a person who does something unskillfully. I sometimes get the feeling it is OK to do it in your own home, but not in public thank you.

The 'factor' of the players being amateur is not a negative. However, one immediately thinks, can I be as critical and as demanding? The answer is of course yes. But, one has to remember that these players are here to enjoy what they are doing. But shouldn't that be what professional players are there for or putting it another way or - surely they love music as well? I think I was more concerned about the players enjoying themselves, however, as I write I think that that is probably untrue. I was just thinking how I could possibly achieve the best result in a different way.

Basically it has opened up a massive hornets nest for me. But I think actually nothing really is different. What is fantastic is that people love music, they are prepared to come out on a Sunday, rehearse and give a concert and that music is not about the professional world, but those who think about music everyday. From waking up to BBC Radio 2, to having a shower to Classic FM to singing some Mozart as you walk out of the tube, playing some quartets with friends and wine and going to bed thinking about the opening of Brahms 1 (symphony) - all that heat - it 'knackers' me out.

I had a fantastic time with the City of London Symphonic Winds and I learnt lots and the chance to think about masses. But things do make you wonder - which is good.

On a sunny morning like today, I think how lucky I am to be able to do something that I love.

F