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The Keyboard Faculty at Trinity-Laban Conservatoire invites pianists to a series of Yoga and Mindfulness sessions taught by Professor Elena Riu especially designed to address Performance Related Anxiety, injury prevention and build resilience before the final assessment run.
The sessions will take place on Thursdays from 8.15-9.30 am on May 10th & 17th in Room G29 at Trinity-Laban.
Some of the well-documented benefits of yoga :
  • Increases resilience and stamina
  • Reduces anxiety and stress through increased Parasympathetic activation (relaxation)
  • Encourages brain integration and emotional regulation
  • Greater lung capacity and improved Heart Rate Variability
  • Improved circulation, digestion and mental functions
  • Promotes self awareness , self esteem and empathy
  • Prevents injury as it maintains lubrication in all the joints and restores full range of motion
  • Increases concentration and mental focus
The Yoga exercises and breathing we did on the course were easy and calming. Playing the piano afterwards is always different, the anxiety and other negative things get pushed to the back of the queue … I can concentrate much more on the type of sound I want to produce and the mood of the piece.  It was very noticeable when listening to others, the sound made could be incredibly different afterwards.
Jackdaws Music Course participant , May 2015
 
Elena Riu has been a concert pianist for many years and is a Professor of piano at Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance where she has recently led a Pilot Study about the benefits of yoga for musicians suffering from PRA and MSD’s. The pilot study was jointly funded by Better Practice: Musical Impacts, Teaching and Learning and the Keyboard Faculty. She also has a dance background.
Elena has taught kids classes at The Special Yoga Centre and at Yoga Home. Last summer and this summer she organized the Yoga for Kids and Families activities at Santosa Yoga Camp where she taught Yoga , Mindfulness and Yoga Nidra for children, workshops on how to incorporate Tich Nath Hanhn’s Pebble Meditation into a yoga class and Womb yoga.

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Please don’t shoot at the pianist; he’s doing his best

I sometimes get the feeling people think musicians are invincible….

We engage in a highly complex, technical and artistic activity which requires huge physical and mental agility and concentration. When we perform, our meticulous preparation enables us to make everything we do look effortless, synthesised and beautiful. In the moments of performing, we offer the music to the audience as a cultural gift to be shared between us in the wondrous experience that is live performance. On stage we dissemble, we act, to maintain a veneer of confidence and poise. Because no one can know how many goddam hours you put in in the practice room or that your journey to the venue was delayed, how tired you are feeling from working all week without a break, or how much that recurrent shoulder problem has been troubling you. To publicly admit to these vulnerabilities would quickly destroy the mystique of the performer.

sticking-plaster-on-a-finger-cristina-pedrazzini

As performers, vulnerability is integral to the profession. By performing we choose to put ourselves out there, hold our music, and ourselves, up for scrutiny, for praise and criticism. It can be a lonely, masochistic activity, never more so in an age where live performance has become almost an Olympic sport in its obsessive need for perfection and the general competitiveness of the profession.

Vulnerability develops early on in the musician’s life, usually at an age when we are not yet fully formed, barely aware of our individual self or identity. The special training musicians undergo can engender multiple emotional problems – the autocractic teacher who constantly breaks down the student’s confidence, for example, or the competitive atmosphere of specialist educational institutions. We are taught how and why to practice and perform by more senior practitioners who cannot possibly know what our individual strengths and weaknesses really are, and who may not offer enough concern or advice on managing the complex aspects of the musician’s life. In addition, where one may have excelled at school, a “gifted pupil”, on arriving at music college one may face the uncomfortable fact that one is now just another among equals, and so begins the toxic habit of looking at what others are doing and constantly comparing oneself to them. The training then becomes a kind of rat race or “musical anorexia”, played out in cloistered, rarefied surroundings. Despite all of this, we find we can achieve great things, and so we carry these learnt habits, and vulnerabilities, into adulthood and career, reluctant to give them up.

Get a bunch of musicians together in a “safe space” and they will talk of their vulnerabilities, their anxieties and fears. In researching this article, I inadvertently created such a safe space and the discussion became a kind of help group where people could talk honestly about their vulnerabilities: it was eye-opening and humbling.

Like physical injury and performance anxiety, admitting to emotional vulnerability is a taboo area, an admittance of weakness or lack of ability which may lead to less work. Musicians have a precarious, peripatetic existence at the best of times. The good news is that musicians are beginning to feel more confident about discussing these issues, and some educational establishments now offer specialist support, including mindfulness training, Alexander technique and counselling. Opening up and discussing your vulnerabilities with others can be remarkably reassuring and often cathartic: you realise you are “not alone” – because many of us share the same anxieties.

In addition, growing maturity and confidence encourages us to discover and implement personal innate methods and motivation, which allow us to reject those early, sometimes toxic, influences or processes, and we become better able to manage and even appreciate our vulnerabilities.

each experience, good and bad…..has potential for helping my overall development

– Carla, flautist

Paradoxically, vulnerability makes us better musicians. Without the emotional sensitivity of our vulnerability, we would not be able to develop, create and play music in a meaningful way; nor would we be able to forge connections and unspoken lines of communication between colleagues and audience in performance. Vulnerability also keeps us humble in the face of the greatness of the music. Asking oneself “Am I good enough?” can be curiously empowering too, if one chooses to avoid comparing oneself to others and instead focuses on one’s own work, forging an individual path through growing maturity, self-determination, musical understanding, and mastery with a willingness to embrace setbacks and cul-de-sacs along the way and to learn and move on from these. Acknowledging and accepting the Inner Critic, without allowing its voice to overwhelm us, is also essential to the creative process and should not be regarded as a sign of weakness. It also prevents our ego getting in the way of our creativity.

openness to the full spectrum of our experience is the starting point for compelling and mature musicianship. Suffering and joy are equally endemic to the human condition, and sharing the full range of our emotions with our audiences, through our presence and through the music we make, is not a selfish act, but a generous one

– Nora Krohn, violist

 

It’s vital: vulnerability, doubt, openness – how else to communicate with any vestige of meaning?

– Rolf Hind, pianist & composer

 

I honestly don’t think you can play meaningful music without being at least a little bit vulnerable somewhere – it’s about caring a lot, taking risks and being human

– Carla, flautist

Further reading

Handling your vulnerability as an artist

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Marc-André Hamelin, (image credit: Fran Kaufman)

Who or what inspired you to take up the piano and pursue a career in music?

I might not be doing this at all had it not been for my father, who was a very good amateur pianist. I’m told that as a very young boy I’d go to the piano when he played and watch him open-mouthed! I have a clear memory of the moment when he asked me if I wanted to take piano lessons. I said yes without hesitating! I seemed to have a predisposition for learning quickly, and it didn’t take long to discover that I had perfect pitch, like my dad.I remember his playing vividly. He mostly favored the Romantic period (Liszt and Chopin above all) and through him I was exposed very early to a sizable chunk of the literature.

At that point, of course, I had no notion of what a career in music would represent; at the beginning, music was something natural — a game, perhaps. I first studied with a local teacher for four years, and then my dad enrolled me at the Vincent-d’Indy school in Montréal, which was very prestigious at the time. And although I showed a natural facility almost from the very beginning, I was never touted as a prodigy.

Who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

Again I must mention my father, because he was directly responsible for one important part of my development. His favorite artists were the pianists of the so-called Golden Age, the ones who were active during the 78RPM era. He collected all the reissues he could find, which in Canada wasn’t always easy, especially earlier on. He listened to these treasures constantly. He was much less attracted to more contemporary pianists and was in general very critical of them. I think the reason he liked the older pianists so much is because of the unbridled freedom inherent to their performances, a freedom which meant that the true letter of the score was often distorted or even disregarded. This cavalier attitude toward the finer points of notation became a part of my musical thinking. It was only much later, in my twenties, that I was sensitized to the necessity of taking composers’ markings seriously, probably because I had begun writing my own music and had become aware of how deeply meaningful and intricate musical notation really is.

And then there were my teachers, all of whom brought something different to my development. First there was Yvonne Hubert, who had once been Alfred Cortot’s assistant in France, and who had come to Canada in the twenties, completely revolutionizing the pianistic landscape at the time. She watched my purely pianistic progress very closely, but above all, she really awakened me to the importance of detail. I vividly remember one of my earliest lessons with her, at which I’d brought Bach’s D minor sinfonia. It was the most complicated piece I’d worked on by that time, and after an exhausting half-hour of her correcting elementary voicing details – several in every bar, it seemed – I realized that I hadn’t known the piece at all beforehand. She was also very instrumental in getting me to pay attention to my sound. An amusing detail: any of her students will recall how she could, sitting on your right as she always did, demonstrate a right-hand passage you had just played, with her left hand, perfectly.

After I moved to America, I spent some years under the wing of Harvey Wedeen, who had, I could say, a more broadly cultured outlook of pianism in general. Through him I really developed a keener awareness of style, among many other things. Lastly, I had a few lessons with Russell Sherman, who above all is a master in stimulating his students by providing constant musical or extra-musical sources of inspiration. I will never forget bringing him Beethoven’s Sonata in F major, op.10 no.2. In the middle movement – the second half of the trio, more specifically – whatever I was doing didn’t have the character he was looking for, so he said ‘Imagine these gigantic Roman temples, with these huge columns…..and behind one of them, Julius Caesar is being murdered!’

It’s a blessing that none of my teachers was ever ill-tempered or despotic. (The sole exception to this is the one lesson I had in 1987 with Juilliard’s Adele Marcus where, after two hours, I was reduced to feeling like an untalented, sub-human ignoramus. But that’s another conversation entirely.)

It would be a grave omission if I didn’t underscore the vital role that my wife Cathy has played in my life. Many friends of mine have taken special delight in pointing out her influence on my character, and how my playing seems to have transformed for the better ever since we’ve been together. To them there’s no doubt she’s the reason! Beside the fact that she has a heart of gold, her musical sensitivity is truly a thing of wonder. She is also an extremely gifted pianist, and all of this gives a real dimension to our life as a couple.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

The biggest difficulty I’ve had over the years was overcoming a disastrous choice of management I made early on in America, one which I had to live with for thirteen years. Throughout that period, developing regular concert activity in the U.S. was very hard work. It wasn’t until I was finally able to change agents in the U.S. (around 2001-2002) that things really began to happen, almost exponentially you might say. Fortunately, in the meantime, I had acquired a very efficient manager in the UK, and that helped me start to get a good foothold in Europe. And all this time I was able to build a catalog of recordings which, in many countries, was the only way anyone could hear me.

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of? 

I always say that if I could play Schubert’s final sonata in every one of my recitals until the day I die, I wouldn’t be unhappy! For that reason, the recording of it that is just now being released is extremely important to me, and I would love it to do well; I value it almost as much as everything else I’ve ever done, combined.

Concerning performances on video that can be seen on YouTube – none of which I’ve ever posted myself – my thoughts on those vary a great deal. While I am proud of some of the things that have appeared there recently, a Brahms Second Concerto with the Warsaw Philharmonic being a good example, a lot of my solo performances, especially ones from the distant past, now make me cringe with embarrassment. I often didn’t realize just how quickly I was playing then, and I wish I could go back to that period and put everything right! I’d be telling myself, “Slow down, man! Smell the flowers!”

Which particular works do you think you play best?

If you asked audience members, you might get different answers! But for myself, works like the Schubert B-flat Sonata, the Schumann Fantasy, the Liszt Sonata, the Debussy Images and second book of Préludes, and the Brahms concerti come to mind.

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season?

There can be many factors which might influence these decisions — too many to mention here. If you’re talking about a new work in your repertoire, I guess the main motivating impulse to program it for the first time is an instinctive feeling of being “ready” for it (whether right or wrong!). And even though I constantly try to expand my repertoire, I often revisit old friends — like the Schumann Fantasy, which I learned 40 years ago. On the other hand, I just recently learned Chopin’s Polonaise-Fantaisie and 4th Scherzo.

As far as building a program, I usually start with one special work, then fashion a balanced set of pieces around it. I don’t generally tend to try to establish deep thematic connections of any kind between the works; my only aim is to provide an experience that is stimulating, thought-provoking, perhaps even challenging. This is why I usually include one or more less-often heard pieces on the program, as part of a lifelong wish to expand awareness of what pianists have been unjustly neglecting. (These days I’m becoming crazy over C.P.E. Bach – see for yourself what an explosively creative individual he was.)

And above all, though I have indeed played a great amount of highly demanding music — the type usually called “showpieces” (a word which I dearly wish would vanish from the dictionary), I do not go on stage to exhibit myself. For me, it’s all about sharing. I consider the public a friend, since I am fortunate enough never to have experienced stage fright. So, any outing on stage for me is an occasion for celebration, an extolment of the miracle of human creativity.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

Living in Boston affords me the pleasure of being able to attend concerts in Symphony Hall and Jordan Hall, two of the most magnificent venues anywhere from an acoustical point of view. There have been many places over the years where I’ve felt the relationship between my musical intentions and the aural result was near-perfect. The concert space at the Domaine Forget in Saint-Irénée in Québec is truly wonderful – many CD recordings have been realized there – and some Japanese spaces I’ve played in were absolutely fantastic with their varnished-wood walls and flooring.

Who are your favourite musicians?

Impossible to answer with just a few names! I could fill a page with musicians who at one time or another have given me true pleasure – and we’re not just talking about pianists! As far as pianists are concerned, I always have time for those who truly treat the instrument as a singing, speaking, living, breathing entity, and who have a complete emotional connection to it. The occasional references one hears about the piano being a percussion instrument, to me, amount to blasphemy.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

I don’t have too many anecdotes of that type, but there is something that happened a few years ago that will linger in my memory forever (and safe to say, in the memories of most of those who were there).

I was giving a recital in New York in the summer about 4 years ago, and one of the works on the program was Ravel’s triptych Gaspard de la nuit. It was very hot, but fortunately not enough to wreck my concentration. Near the end of the first piece (Ondine), I heard a slight buzzing sound, followed by the feeling of something landing squarely on my head. I had no idea what it was at the time. They told me after the concert that it was a fly, about as big as my thumb! I continued to play – there was no reason to stop, really – but I wondered what the audience was thinking. And that fly proceeded to stay there, on my head, unmoving from the spot where it landed, for the entire length of Le Gibet! That’s 7 minutes!! And the best part is that the terrifying poem that Le Gibet is based on describes a winged beetle plucking a hair from a corpse! I learned afterwards that some people in the audience were fantasizing that this creature was sucking my brains out…!

As a musician, how do you define “success”?

Achieving total trust from the public as well as from concert promoters, and being able to sustain it over decades.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

First, it should go without saying that a thorough knowledge of the science of music – harmony, counterpoint, theory, aural training, analysis – is indispensable. Without these you cannot begin to truly understand what you’re doing. I am convinced, and have become more and more convinced over the years, that being naturally conversant in these matters will have a crucial influence on your playing. A clear musical mind with an overarching mastery of theoretical matters will have a much better chance at developing fluent pianism, even though this will probably not be apparent for a long while. I try to avoid using the word ‘technique’, since it’s really a misnomer; the word is usually used to indicate the purely mechanical side of piano playing, whereas it should also encompass the artistic and the emotional.

But, even more importantly, take time out of the practice room! The much-overused expression ‘get a life!’ fully applies here. It is pure folly to think that you can ultimately achieve anything artistically significant when the only landscape you ever glance at is the four walls of a practice space. Learn to concentrate your work as much as you can by zeroing in mercilessly on your shortcomings and don’t spend so much time on what you already know. This will allow you the time to blossom as a human being and to expand your horizons.
Marc-André Hamelin’s recording of Schubert’s last piano sonata and the second set of Impromptus is available now on the Hyperion label

Review here

http://www.marcandrehamelin.com

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dsc-98012-lst263101

The 3 British Tenors are…..

Barry Clark, David Heathcote and Matthew Scott Clark

Who or what inspired you to take up a career in music?

Barry: From an early age I sang and acted at school, later joining various local amateur theatre groups. My parents were vociferous in their disapproval of this and actively discouraged any thoughts of my turning professional. I languished as a cartographic draughtsman at the Ordnance Survey for four years before rebelling & applying, successfully, for the chorus of the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company. Through local productions I had acquired a love of the Gilbert & Sullivan operas, their tunefulness and oddly skewed humour being entirely to my taste.

David: from as early as I can remember I was fascinated by opera singers and conductors. In fact, my mum would catch me pretending to conduct orchestras whenever they came on the TV! My biggest influence as a singer has been José Carreras, particularly his beautiful sound, his vocal honesty and connection to the words and music. I also remember the story of his battle with leukaemia, even though I didn’t know who he was at the time; I just somehow knew it was an important story.

Then in 1990 the world changed when The 3 Tenors emerged. I just loved the format and the sheer joy of three tenors on one stage, singing the arias they loved. Listening to Luciano Pavarotti in these concerts is a concentrated masterclass of vocal technique. What a huge talent he was!

Matthew: Music has always been a big part of my life; listening and making it. It’s always been in the family with my parents being opera singers too, but early on I was keen on pursuing a career in acting and even film making. The tipping point came when I played Salieri in a student production of Amadeus; that affectively ignited my love for the music of Mozart, and eventually led me to play Papageno in an amateur production of The Magic Flute. It was thereafter that I knew I wanted to be an actor-singer.

Who or what have been the most important influences on your career?

Barry: Being self-educated in music & drama, I would say that a particular singing teacher, the singer/actor Andrew Downie, unlocked the voice and got me started on the road to a proper, and stable, vocal technique. Watching the Carte’s “patter man”, John Reed was a great influence; his stagecraft and attention to detail, plus the maintaining of stamina over eight performances a week, have all aided me over the years.

David: my teachers have been amazing and have all brought our something different in me. In recent years Colin Baldy and Justin Lavender have helped me realise what I always knew was there, particularly in the higher registers. But it’s all the wonderful family and friends who have kept me going on my journey. Also my late friend and West Yorkshire singing teacher Steven Mellor, who gave the most important advice ever: “Just open your gob and sing”. Classic!

Matthew: Other than my parents and friends in the industry, I think it’s the music itself and the composers who wrote it. When I hear a piece of music that really affects me it’s a great feeling; and I love being able to express that when I perform, so others can feel it too.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

Barry: Remaining in work!

David: being business-like is so important. Equal to the dedication of establishing a vocal technique (an ever-present occupation!) and learning the right repertoire is the business and marketing skills to succeed. I have been lucky enough to have worked as a singer and as a producer and also in other business areas. I try my best to apply these skills and knowledge to my own career but I know it is so much harder when you are the product you’re selling.

Matthew: They are too numerous to list here! (Laughs) But the ongoing challenge is just doing it: keeping yourself at that level of performance all the time. That’s really hard.

Why did you decide to form The 3 British Tenors?

Barry: Re-form really. The original act ran roughly from 1995 to 2005 and performed all over the UK & abroad. As the tenors began to seek other work, the act disbanded. I decided that the time was ripe for a revival and with the new team of myself, David Heathcote and Matthew Scott Clark we tried out at the Chapel of the Royal Foundation of St Katharine, London, towards the end of 2017.The response was heartening enough for us to decide to continue and we are looking forward immensely to building the act during 2018.

David: Barry Clark was one of the original The 3 British Tenors and enjoyed great success in the UK and internationally. With my background in the music business, Barry approached me to sound me out about bringing the it back, which I was delighted to do. We tried out the format at an intimate concert in the Chapel of The Royal Foundation of St Katharine in London and were convinced by the audience reaction in our sell-out performances. Now we know it works we look forward to having lots more fun performing together in 2018!

Matthew: I just remember seeing Dad in the original Three British Tenors back in the ’90s, and it was this great operatic cabaret act with sparkly curtains and synthesisers and wonderful old stories from the world of opera; and as a kid I just loved it. So when Dad said he and David were thinking of reprising the act with the three of us in mind I said “Hell yeah!”

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of?

David: our launch concerts in autumn 2017 were special occasions for us. Can we report back in a year’s time?

Matthew: Other than our recent performances at St Katherine’s Foundation, I have to say performing the role of Bardolpho in Verdi’s Falstaff for Royal Welsh College a couple of years ago. It was this wonderfully creative production set in the 1980s, with some great up and coming people in the principle roles. It was conducted by Carlo Rizzi, so it was like being conducted by Verdi himself! And the characterisations were just so nutty, which are the best kind of roles for me.

Which particular works do you think you perform best?

Barry: My particular love has always been operetta, not just Gilbert & Sullivan, but the Viennese répertoire: Lehar, Strauss, Kalman etc.

David: the beauty for us is that we can choose repertoire that suits us individually and then come together in the famous songs and arias that the audience expects from having three tenors together on one stage. I am most at home in the coloratura madness of Rossini and Donizetti and I love singing the famous tenor songs with Barry and Matt. The audience love it when we come together to sing the classics such as O Sole Mio, La Donna è Mobile and Nessun Dorma, for example.

Matthew: Anything that tells a story, and has some really stand out emotive hooks or amusing jokes thrown in there. I love the character roles, because they are just so much fun to play; but with the lyrical roles you can really make a mark, change people’s hearts. I can never decide what I enjoy more! (Laughs)

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season?

David: for our general performances we choose arias that suit us well and make sure there are always some pieces with the ‘wow factor’ when we come together as a trio. Our Christmas programme was pretty special as we choose classical and operatic repertoire that was connected to the season: Rossini’s Si, Ritrovarla io Giuro from Cinderella, Britten’s The Holly and the Ivy and Warlock’s The First Mercy were crowned with O Holy Night in our Christmas concert.

Matthew: For me, it’s really a choice of what speaks to me the most. There are some roles or pieces which are essential for any singer’s repertoire; but if there’s a particular tune or scenario in a piece that affects me in particular, then that’s the deciding feature in my mind.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

Matthew: I love the Buxton Opera House. I was there a few years ago in a production of Handel’s Acis and Galatea for Mid Wales Opera, when I was a member of the chorus. It’s just such a gorgeous venue, all the royal greens and golds; and when you see the names of William Shakespeare and Sir Arthur Sullivan painted opposite to each other in front of the stage, you know you’re in exactly the right place!

What is your most memorable concert experience?

Barry: Participating in the 25th anniversary celebrations of “The Phantom of The Opera” at the Royal Albert Hall in 2011.

David: I was lucky enough to perform the role of Gandhi in what was possibly the professional British premiere of Philip Glass’ opera Satyagraha at The Midlands Arts Centre (sorry ENO but it wasn’t you!). That was an emotional experience and the start of my professional career in 1999.

Matthew: Singing in college chorus for a Royal Welsh performance of Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem, conducted once more by Carlo Rizzi, with baritone soloist Simon Keenlyside and tenor soloist, my teacher, Adrian Thompson. It was such an incredible piece to be a part of, not just for the personnel, but for that truly heartrending score!

I remember one movement towards the end where it feels as though the whole world has ended beneath you, and you’ve left the ground without anything to grab onto except the words on the page! It was nuts.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

David: getting paid to make people happy.

Matthew: Audience reaction. If you can convince them for one song, that’s the biggest success in my book.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

David: don’t be afraid to treat you and your art as a business. You need a great product and absolutely to love performing but you can’t sustain it if you’re not bold enough to be business-like.

Matthew: Honesty. Always look for the truth in what you do. Otherwise what’s the point?

Where would you like to be in ten years time?

Barry: In comfortable retirement!

David: Going around the world singing my favourite repertoire would be heaven!

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Matthew: Knowing your vocation, and sticking to it. That and Netflix.

What is your present state of mind?

Barry: Buoyant!

David: Excited!

 

The 3 British Tenors have entertained audiences in concerts and private and corporate events for over 20 years in the UK, in Europe and the United States of America.

As you’d expect, the tenors include the great arias such as the world famous Nessun Dorma (which was sung by Pavarotti on the eve of the 1990s World Cup), the brilliant, La Donna e Mobile and wonderful arias by Puccini, Verdi as well as the great Neapolitan songs such as O Sole Mio.

Throughout their performances, The 3 British Tenors sing as a trio to create magical moments from opera, music theatre and songs.

Being British, the tenors like to lighten things up with humour and audiences love the stories they tell throughout the programme.

www.the3britishtenors.co.uk