In 2019, I had the fortune of working with Brett Dean for the first time on his piece Recollections in an ensemble led by the violinist Anthony Marwood, who himself has a long association with the composer. As musical life re-emerges, one of the highlights is continuing on my journey of learning his music and working with the composer in the process.
Faithful to the letter or the spirit?
photo credit Kaupo Kikkas
This is an update on a post originally written for Yellow Barn, introducing my residency ‘Faithful to the Spirit’, exploring how recordings have shaped how we make and experience music. The residencies culminated in concerts putting my work as an Edison Visiting Fellow at the British Library into the practice of performance, alongside the wonderful violinist Maria Włoszczowska, violist Rosalind Ventris, cellist Jonathan Dormand, and double bassist Lizzie Burns.
Having learned Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 109 during my studies at the Royal Academy of Music, I played the piece at the time for a fellow student. Upon finishing, she marveled at my meticulous adherence to Beethoven’s detailed and sometimes perplexing indications. ‘You observe every indication in the score!’ she exclaimed. I feigned modesty but was, in fact, self-satisfied, having put the music first; above all capturing, as best as I could, Beethoven’s desires, passed down to us through his hallowed score. In hindsight I look back on the incident with amusement and slight chagrin at my deferential naivety and complacence, having misconstrued literal fidelity to the score for artistry and a historical respect for Beethoven’s music.
Playing Styles in the Age of Recording
The second of a series of blogposts originally published by Yellow Barn, and updated here in 2020. Written in conjunction with my artists’ residencies there and entitled ‘Faithful to the Sprit’, the residencies put into practice my work as an Edison Visiting Fellow at the British Library, exploring how recordings changed how we make and experience music.
'The biggest problem with today's playing is that people want to sound smooth and nice; everything is ironed out flat,' Raphael Wallfisch, Strad magazine
Judging from reactions to this online, these words resonated with and provoked musicians in equal measure, suggesting an opportune moment to examine these sentiments more closely. Though the focus of our upcoming residency is not necessarily performance practice, it is impossible to deny the differences between the (by modern standards) eccentric performances heard on early recordings and today’s smoother approach. Scholarly studies of early recordings attest to the fact that attributes we might today view as idiosyncrasies were integral aspects of performance styles of the time; characteristics not just of performers, but of composers’ own views and performances. Whether we choose to adopt the playing styles or not, before dismissing them outright as distasteful or self-indulgent, it is worth giving these stylistic habits due consideration, in the same manner afforded to written treatises in earlier music.
The Cult of the Work
The third in a series of writings for Yellow Barn related to my artist residencies there, exploring how recordings have impacted how we make and experience music, in conjunction with a British Library Edison Fellowship.
The Cult of the Work
During our talks in Putney (at the Greenwood School and for the general audience) we framed the discussion in terms of an issue raised by various commentators: whether music is an object or an activity. It is, of course, an activity. However we have, in certain ways, taken steps towards turning it into an object (through musical scores and recordings). In doing so all kinds of "rules" have been created – many of which we are unaware of; our residency was about becoming aware of and re-thinking these "rules".
Reflections
The fourth in a series of writings originally published by Yellow Barn documenting my artist residencies there (in conjunction with my work as an Edison Visiting Fellow at the British Library), exploring how recordings have impacted how we make and experience classical music
There was controversy when Nigel Kennedy accused the music establishment of producing “factory lines” of pianists and violinists, emphasizing technical perfection at the expense of individuality. “You do hear some amazing talent, but [it] has been kind of fettered,” he told the Observer. “If you listen to one version of a Brahms concerto or Beethoven against another one, they’re unfortunately too similar.” It has been interesting to contemplate this as I prepare for our return to Yellow Barn and reflect upon our residency last season.
Though I think it is doubtful that music colleges and record companies have consciously colluded to produce perfect automatons, devoid of individual expression, Nigel Kennedy raises an important point that lies at the heart of our residency: the need to question the uniformity and rigidity of playing styles today.
Interpretation au deuxième degré
The French distinguish between interpreting something au premier ou au deuxième degré (in the first or second degree). A joke, concept or message taken at the ‘first degree’ means it is viewed literally, overly seriously, or at face value. There is no exact English equivalent for au deuxième degré but it means roughly to interpret something with an understanding of hidden meanings.
Our residencies at Yellow Barn have been about exploring musical possibilities at the second degree. Early recordings hint at the possible hidden meanings behind the signs and symbols of notation. While most musicians are aware of certain limits of notation, comparing historical recordings with modern ones illustrate that the ambiguities are greater than interpretations today suggest. Listening to performances through the history of recording, one hears a radical shift in how a composer’s score is viewed philosophically: a shift from the second degree (a plethora of un-notated expressive devices and tendency to freely adapt the score) to the first degree (the widespread approach of today which subscribes to strict and literal fidelity to the written notation).