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In her recent interview in ‘The Observer’, Dame Fanny Waterman expressed fears for the future of British pianism, blaming the popularity of “electric keyboards”, children starting to learn the piano later than in other countries (in particular the Far East) and lack of discipline for declining standards of playing and competition success. The article also infers that success in international competitions (such as the Leeds International Piano Competition, which Dame Fanny co-founded in 1961) is the benchmark by which “great” pianists should be measured. I have already written two responses to Dame Fanny’s comments (here and here), and acclaimed pianist and writer Susan Tomes has also written on this subject, in particular on the thorny issue of competitions. The interview created a lively debate across my networks on Facebook and other social media, with many people taking issue with Dame Fanny’s inference that there are no “great” British pianists active today.

I don’t agree with her: in my concert-going and reviewing activities, I have been fortunate to hear some fantastically talented British pianists, and some young, emerging artists who are definitely “ones to watch” for the future.

But what defines “greatness?”, and what criteria should we use to determine the most desirable qualities in a “great” performance? Are these criteria also influenced by fashion and changing taste, recordings and performance practice?

I feel it is time to celebrate British pianists, and I’d like readers to submit their own “greats”, which can then be compiled into a comprehensive list of great British pianists active today.

A handful of my personal choices to get the ball rolling:

Steven Osborne – his affinity with and understanding of late-nineteenth century and twentieth-century French music, in particular Ravel and Messiaen, is, for me, hard to match.

Peter Donohoe – for the sheer range of his repertoire and for bringing lesser-known composers, such as Henry Litolff, to the fore

Benjamin Grosvenor – a young British artist who is already showing huge promise, not least for his exquisite control of sound and touch, and his understated, thoughtful approach.

Please submit your nominations via the comments box below or contact me.

 

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Who or what inspired you to take up singing, and make it your career? 

There was no great moment of revelation, more a progressive realisation that I wouldn’t be happy doing anything else. I’d sung with choirs and performed in amateur dramatic groups as a teenager, and enjoyed both hugely. Then around the age of 16 I won a county scholarship to have singing lessons at the Welsh College of Music and Drama. My teacher there was Beatrice Unsworth, and from the very first lesson she showed huge faith in me, and was brave enough to stick her neck out and tell me I had the potential to make a career of singing, if I decided that was what I wanted. It’s a far safer bet when giving advice to young singers to preach caution, and rightly so, but at some point an artistic career needs a leap of faith, and it takes great courage and vision to support a young artist in doing that.

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

There are too many to mention, and if I begin to name individuals I know I’ll miss someone out. In all honesty I’d say I’ve taken something, whether it be of great significance or only a small hint or reflection, from everyone I’ve met and worked with. On a personal level, I’m fortunate to have a hugely supportive network of family and friends who are all incredibly patient and understanding. Every singer needs those people if they’re to survive in the long run.

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

Getting into postgraduate music college in the first place, having come from an entirely amateur musical background up to that point. Getting through the tough first few years of my career, when I was strapped for both money and time. Continuing to motivate myself to get to work on each new piece in the first few stages of learning and memorisation.

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of? 

In terms of live performances, it’s tricky to know, since you as the performer never get to see it, and once it’s happened it’s gone forever, and more often than not you don’t have time to reflect on it before you’re on to starting work on the next project.

With recordings it’s different – you can come back to them a couple of years later and assess them more rationally. I’m very fond of my first album, Enaid – Songs of the Soul, which I recorded with Llyr Williams a few years ago – I think we came very close to achieving what we set out to achieve with it, and it still excites me to hear it, even though I’m sure we’d do it all differently now. On film, I’m pleased with the recording of Jackie O that was made when we performed it at the Teatro Comunale di Bologna – it’s a rarely-performed piece, and is very idiosyncratic, but I have a great fondness for it, and it brings back a lot of happy memories to watch it.

Which particular works do you think you perform best? 

I’m not the best one to assess that! But I’d say the composers for whom I feel most affinity in terms of their vocal writing are Mozart, Puccini and Wagner – with all three I get a strong sense of understanding what they were seeking in terms of vocal colour and dramatic and emotional content.

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

First and foremost, I’ll need to sing whatever someone is willing to pay me to sing. That’s not a facetious answer – it’s the basic truth of a professional singer’s life. At the same time, you need to keep an eye on the horizon and the direction you’re headed in the long term. So I’ll listen to my voice, or rather, what my voice is telling me in terms of where it’s happiest, where it’s strengthening and so on (in conjunction with advice from trusted teachers and coaches), with the aim of exploring new areas of repertoire which could be viable in a few years’ time. You have to be honest with yourself about your strengths and weaknesses, and be realistic about what you’re asking a casting panel to see and hear in you, while at the same time being clear in your own mind as to what you do best as an artist.

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

If you twist my arm I’d say St David’s Hall in Cardiff, from the point of view of a combination of acoustic, atmosphere and above all sentimental value – it’s where I grew up watching live music, and it always means a lot to me to perform there.

Favourite pieces to perform? Listen to? 

Scarpia in Tosca is always a buzz. Anything by Wagner.

Who are your favourite musicians? 

Tom Jones, Titta Ruffo, Shakira.

What is your most memorable concert experience? 

It’s not repeatable in polite company – you’ll have to wait for my memoirs.

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

Work hard. Learn to switch off. Remember that the work doesn’t lead to rewards – the work is the the reward. Don’t be too ready to take advice from old musicians…. By which I mean, be open to advice and new ideas, but don’t be afraid to reject them, or save them for (sometimes years) later. Remember the bottom line is that as an artist the final responsibility for your technique, career and art is yours, and your aim is to produce something unique, not an imitation of anyone else’s work.

Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time? 

Alive.

What is your idea of perfect happiness? 

Sitting on the sofa with my wife, with football on the TV and an interesting score on my lap.

What is your most treasured possession? 

My Bialetti Brikka coffee pot.

What do you enjoy doing most? 

What is your present state of mind?

Contented.

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I wanted to write a further post in response to Dame Fanny Waterman’s piece in ‘The Observer’ in which she warns of a crisis in piano playing in the UK and blames the popularity of digital keyboards and electric pianos for the fact that UK performers are failing to compete internationally. (Read my initial response to Dame Fanny here.)

I don’t want to focus too much on the issue of competitions, which remains an area of heated debate amongst teachers, students, adjudicators and music journalists, but I would just like to quote some statistics which a colleague flagged up on Facebook in response to Dame Fanny’s article:

……a quick glance over the Leeds previous prizewinners [reveals that] of 95 names only 5 have sustained a major international career after the initial flurry of dates, only 2 of those were first prize winners anyway, and the most recent competitor from the group took part in 1987! Perhaps our British pianists have realised that there are better and more creative ways to create a career in the 21st century

Competitions should not be seen as the be all and end all, and I think we all need to get past this holy grail of “The Three C’s” – Conservatoire Competition Concerto.

In my experience, as a piano teacher and the co-organiser of a group for adult amateur pianists, I see no signs of a decline in interest in piano playing here in the UK. Far from it. I receive enquiries about lessons every week, and I know piano teaching colleagues in my own area of SW London and beyond would say the same. Most of us have healthy waiting lists. The piano remains a popular first instrument for children to learn because it is relatively easy to make a nice sound from the very first note. The members of my piano group range from people who have played the piano since childhood, returners, and adult learners of all levels. Some members are very fine players indeed, who are regular performers but who have chosen a different career path to music. What unites us is a shared passion for the piano and its literature.

In addition to piano groups, piano courses are becoming increasingly popular, offering adults and young people the opportunity to study with acclaimed performing artists and teachers. There are courses to suit all abilities and tastes from “piano retreats” in the French countryside, with five-star accommodation and wonderful food and the opportunity to study with an international artist, to weekend courses for advanced pianists (professional and amateur), courses focussing on contemporary music, accompanying, chamber music, jazz and much more.

Then there are festivals where children and adults can compete, receive constructive feedback from skilled adjudicators and enjoy hearing other people’s playing and repertoire.

The UK is host to many fine piano concerts throughout the year and attracts top-class British and international artists. Alongside concerts in mainstream venues, there are myriad other opportunities to hear piano music – but top international artists and also exciting young and emerging artists: in stately homes, churches, art galleries and museums, small regional arts centres, people’s homes, out doors….. These initiatives bring piano and other classical music closer to the audience and make the music and concert experience more accessible and intimate.

The piano is very much alive in the UK – let’s keep it that way.

Pianist and writer Susan Tomes has made an interesting and thoughtful contribution to this debate – read her article

 

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I am delighted to feature another guest post by writer Dr James Holden

The piano tuner is tuning the piano.

Downstairs, the piano tuner presses down the piano’s keys in order to tune the piano.

He presses down a key. He presses down a key.

Downstairs, the piano tuner is working his way down the keyboard, pressing down each key in turn, turning the tuning pins, tuning it. He works his way right down, pressing now the downmost keys. The downmost keys need tuning and the piano tuner is now tuning them. They need tuning as they are down in pitch. These downmost keys need tuning because they are now down in pitch, and when the piano tuner presses down the keys they beat out of time. They have a metallic clang. When the piano tuner presses down the downmost keys it now sounds like a hammer striking a bell, not a string.

Downstairs, a bell is ringing. Downstairs the piano tuner is ringing a bell, a solemn bell. The hammer strikes. The bell tolls. The hammer strikes. It is a funeral bell tolling. It is a funeral bell, the bell that tolls downstairs, like Berlioz’s bell. It is a bell that calls forth to witness. Downstairs, the downmost notes sound out the Dies Irae. It is now Berlioz’s bell.

He presses down a key. He presses down a key.

Upstairs, I’m listening to the piano tuner. I’m listening to the piano tuner tune the piano. I’m listening to him tune the piano back up to pitch. Upstairs, the piano is uppermost in my mind. I should be writing down my thoughts, but I’m not. Upstairs, I’m listening to the piano tuner tune the piano.

He presses down a key. He presses down a key.

Downstairs, the piano tuner is working his way up the keyboard, turning the tuning pins, tuning it. He works his way right up, pressing now the uppermost keys. The uppermost keys need tuning and the piano tuner is now tuning them. These uppermost keys need tuning because they need to be brought up to pitch, and when the piano tuner presses the keys they beat out of time. They have a metallic clang. When the piano tuner presses the uppermost keys it now sounds like a series of small bells.

Downstairs, bells are ringing out. Downstairs the piano tuner is ringing bells, joyful bells. The clappers clap. The bells ring. The clappers clap. And as the piano tuner rings out these bells, and as he checks his octaves, he plays a casual, coincidental Campanella to rapturous applause. These are bells that call forth to dance, to get up. The uppermost notes sound out the steps. This is now Paganini’s peal.

He presses down a key. He presses down a key.

The piano is now in tune.

Downstairs, the piano tuner has tuned the piano. Downstairs, he has pressed down each key in turn, turned the tuning pins, tuned it. The notes are now where they should always have been. They are neither up nor down but right there, right where they should always have been.

The piano is now in tune.

About the author: 

James Holden is a writer working across the critical-creative divide. He is a specialist in British and European culture from the birth of Chopin in 1810 to the death of Monet in 1926. His published work includes In Search of Vinteuil: Music, Literature and a Self Regained (Sussex Academic Press, 2010). He is currently working on a philosophical reading of romantic pianism. James also writes experimental prose and poetry. He is currently associated with the HOARD art project in Leeds. 

His website is www.culturalwriter.co.uk 

He tweets as @CulturalWriter 

 

A short film about my piano tuner Rolf Dragstra, made by his son