The weekend brought some time out to pause and reflect on the reactions of others and my own to that Guardian article and that Phase Eight dress (read my articles here and here). While some agreed with my view, others suggested I had over-reacted or not understood the message of The Guardian article in particular. There were a few rather bruising brickbats mingled with supportive words via Twitter; such is the nature of that particular beast and it was at least encouraging to see a lively discussion, regardless of one’s point of view.

Perhaps these two issues look like a storm in a classical music teacup. Why get so exercised about a red evening dress or an obviously clickbaity article? But I do think the Guardian article and the Phase Eight tweet are symptomatic of an ongoing issue for this art form which I love and about which I care passionately (and yes, my *over* reaction is a sign of my passion) – how classical music is perceived and presented.

Classical Music is elitist

Still, still there is this perception that classical music is for a certain demographic that is predominantly white, middle class, monied, cultured and educated (but first and foremost, monied). It’s easy to “prove” this by highlighting the price of opera tickets, especially to prestigious venues like the Royal Opera House or Glyndebourne. Football is also expensive to attend, ditto pop gigs and festivals, but no one suggests that these activities are “elitist”. So there is a curious definition of the word “elitist” at work in relation to classical music that suggests both financial and cultural superiority, and that the artform is somehow rarefied and exclusive because of the type of people who usually engage with it. This also relates to the perceived customs and etiquette of classical music; thus outsiders think that to attend a classical music concert or opera, one must dress up (back to that Phase Eight dress again). It’s true that people dress up for Glyndebourne and other country house operas – it’s part of the experience – but take a look at the audience on any given night at any UK concert hall and you’ll find people dressed comfortably and casually. There’s no dress code at the Wigmore Hall nor the Proms (something Phase Eight’s marketing department would have realised, had they done some homework).

It troubles me, this negative perception of classical music and its fans, and it strikes me that currently there is an image crisis surrounding classical music. It wasn’t always like this. When I was growing up in the 1970s, there was more classical music in our everyday lives – particularly on primetime television with programmes like André Previn’s. I’m fairly sure classical music then did not have the elitist aura which surrounds it now, and it was only when I went to secondary school that I began to sense a certain antagonism towards classical music which for me manifested itself in the attitude of some of my classmates who bullied me because I liked music and was “good at it”. Yet music was available to every pupil in the school should they choose to participate (this was in the early 1980s in the halcyon days of good music provision in state schools), but I was bullied because I was engaging in an activity which was perceived as highbrow and somehow exclusive.

The serious erosion of music provision in state schools and the view that music (and the arts in general) is a “soft subject”, that is does not bring value (i.e. monetary value), together with a certain philistinism on the part of those that govern us, has not helped classical music’s image. But I don’t believe education is the entire cause of the problem.

When and how did this negative image of classical music develop and who is responsible for it? Surely not the musicians, most of whom (in my experience – and I have met a fair number via my Meet the Artist series) are the antithesis of “elite” (except in the sense that they have undergone a long and rigorous training to become masters of their craft). Are audiences the problem? Those snobby, stuffy, mostly elderly classical music aficionados who make the ingénue concert goer feel unwelcome?  A music journalist commented in response to the Outraged of Tunbridge Wells reaction to the Phase Eight dress furore that: “ … if classical music dies it will be the enthusiasts that kill it.” So maybe audience members, the enthusiasts and the fans, do have a responsibility? Is the problem with the gatekeepers, classical music’s “deep state”, who wish to keep the artform secure in its gilded cage, accessible only to the few not the many, to the extent that engaging with classical music can feel like joining a cult?

Despite the best efforts of those of us within the profession – musicians, commentators, reviewers, bloggers, promoters, teachers – who want to break down barriers, to do away with the elitist tag, it seems as if classical music’s image is pretty poor right now. Sadly, this elides with the egalitarian/populist assertion that people have “had enough” of experts, and are suspicious of anything that smacks of education or scholarship (quick to label it “elitist”).

Enough already with the smirking and eye-rolling, the apologetic marketing, the talking about classical music as if it is some kind of weird taboo. It needs to lose the stigma of elitism and that it is only for older people. I believe that all of us who work in the profession and engage with the artform have a responsibility to accentuate the positives about classical music and to reach out and encourage others to experience it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Classical Music is only for old people

Classical music is for anyone of any age

You have to wear special clothes for concerts/opera

You can wear what you like. Opera festivals like Glyndebourne do have dress codes and attendees enjoy dressing up to go, but in general there is no dress code for concerts or operas. Wear what is comfortable (especially if attending the Proms on a hot August evening).

Classical Music is for the rich elite (“the yachts and have yachts”)

Classical music is for everyone. Classical concert tickets are considerably cheaper than pop gigs and festivals, West End theatre or football matches.

You need specialist knowledge to understand/appreciate Classical Music

Just open your ears and experience the sounds. Knowing that a work is constructed in Sonata Form is not necessarily going to enhance your experience. You may find after you’ve heard a piece of music that you would like to find out more about it – concert programme notes can help with this, and there are plenty of resources online to increase your knowledge.

Knowing about the music is the job of the musicians – the audience is there to enjoy it!

“I don’t know anything about classical music”

But you can explain the emotional impact of pieces like The Lark Ascending or the Ride of the Valkyries  – which reveals your reaction to the music and therefore proves that you do “know something” about it!

Classical music is “hard”

Classical music – like other music – is about emotions, and those who write the stuff were and are human beings, just like us. Classical music is about the human condition – love, sex, life, death – because composers, like us, have fallen in love, out of love, experienced joy or sorrow…… Sometimes expressing these human varied emotions can result in complex or long music, but let your mind wander as you listen, and the music will set your imagination free.

Classical Music is “relaxing”

Yes, some of it is, and its therapeutic benefits are well known and documented. But a lot of it is uplifting, exciting, energising, thrilling….. because it encompasses the full gamut of human emotion (see above)

People who like classical music are snobby/stuffy/high-brow

People who like classical music are just like you and me. Get chatting to others at a concert and you will find that the vast majority of classical music fans are ordinary people who simply enjoy the music.

I’m worried I might clap at the wrong time

Multi-movement works like symphonies or sonatas tend to be performed without applause between the movements – a custom which developed at the end of the nineteenth century – but people do applaud between movements, especially at the Proms, and that’s fine!

Classical music was written by dead white men in periwigs

Classical music was, and is, written by men and women, white and BAME people, and many are very much alive and well today.

Only men can conduct classical music

Women can and do conduct too! Marin Alsop, one of the most respected international conductors, is female, and there’s a whole crop of younger women conductors following in her footsteps. Gender shouldn’t come into it – they are all “conductors”, regardless of their sex!

Classical musicians are all highly-strung divas who live in ivory towers. They are not “normal” people

Very few classical musicians today fit that clichéd model. And why? Because they know that being a diva makes you a difficult colleague to work with. Most are very normal, living in ordinary houses, with families, pets, and the same day-to-day concerns (like how to pay the bills) as the rest of us.

“You’re so lucky to be able to do your hobby as a job!” (see also: “What’s your day/real job?”)

Being a classical musician is not a hobby. It is a profession which requires huge commitment, specialist training and hours and hours of practicing to prepare, maintain and refresh repertoire.

“You’re so talented! It’s amazing how the music magically comes out of your fingers!”

“Talent” is 99% hard graft – and the so-called “magic” the result of hours and hours of deliberate practice. (See above)

“Stockhausen is unlistenable”: All modern/contemporary classical music sounds like “a squeaky gate”

A lot of modern/contemporary music is very melodic, accessible and easy to listen to

 

 

 

 

 

London chamber orchestra Ruthless Jabiru will deliver Silk Moth, its first fully-staged production for fringe opera stalwart Grimeborn Festival at London’s Arcola Theatre over a five performance season from 9-11 August 2019.

A story of vulnerability and complicity told through the music of Bushra El-Turk, Liza Lim and Cassandra Miller, Ruthless Jabiru’s Silk Moth will examine the complex tragedies of honour crime, family violence and female (dis)empowerment in Britain and beyond.

A continuous and fully-staged programme centred around composer Bushra El-Turk and librettist Eleanor Knight’s hard-hitting chamber opera Silk Moth (2015), the production interweaves the expressive Arabic voice with Western contemporary opera in an opulent sensory tapestry born of El-Turk’s Lebanese cultural heritage. Liza Lim The Heart’s Ear(1997) will preface the opera as a dramatised prologue; a work similarly rooted in Arabic Islamic music and the unique qualities of the ney (Middle Eastern flute). The programme culminates with Cassandra Miller’s Bel Canto (2010); a work conceived as a temporal portrait of Maria Callas progressing from her young voice to the voice of her later years. Ruthless Jabiru’s core ensemble will be augmented by musicians from the experimental Middle Eastern initiative Ensemble Zar as guests within the orchestra.

I’m so happy to share the extraordinary music of three British-based female composers at our first Grimeborn,” said conductor Kelly Lovelady. “We are living through a time when major art music organisations are realising their agency to redress a historical insensitivity to balance. In New music the level of risk often feels high—logistically-speaking—but programming women and diversity is absolutely not one of those risks! That said, I decided on this programme for its sonic connections and the unique way these three works complement each other to coexist momentarily as a new whole. I hope that through this soundworld we can bring tenderness and texture beyond sensationalism to these challenging issues.”

Knight’s libretto explores the psychological landscape of a mother implicated in the forced marriage, genital mutilation, and honour killing of her own daughter. Current figures suggest 5,000 women worldwide are murdered every year by honour based violence, with potentially hundreds more cases unreported. In the UK alone, 60,000 girls under 15 are at risk of FGM and 137,000 girls and women are already living with the consequences.

Conceptualised and conducted by Ruthless Jabiru’s Artistic Director Kelly Lovelady, the orchestra welcomes stage director Heather Fairbairn—whose previous work includes engagements at the Royal Opera House, Festival d’Aix-en-Provence, Théâtre des Champs Elysées, and Grand Théâtre de la Ville de Luxembourg—along with her critically-acclaimed Creative Team from the 2017 production The Mutant Man (The Space Arts Centre).

I was drawn to directing Silk Moth because of the way it explores ideas around gender, guilt, and faith.” said Fairbairn. “These relevant topics are deftly handled by composer Bushra El-Turk and librettist Eleanor Knight in a work that is intense and unflinching. Along with El-Turk’s opera, Kelly Lovelady has curated a daring programme of music that champions opera creators who are female and from diverse cultural backgrounds. We’ll present this trio of works as one cohesive sixty-minute dramatic piece for soprano, chorus, and actors, in a production that I envision will blur the boundaries between theatre, opera, and installation.

Through a run of five performances of Silk Moth, Ruthless Jabiru aims to generate increased awareness for local campaigns dedicated to abolishing the continuing practices of honour based violence, forced marriage and female genital mutilation in the UK’s Middle Eastern, South Asian, African and BME diasporas. Charities including True Honour, the Iranian & Kurdish Women’s Rights Organisation, FORWARD and Savera UK are committed to safeguarding the rights, dignity, autonomy and wellbeing of girls and women from vulnerable communities; and to providing education and resources for our mixed ethnicity friends affected by discriminatory cultural practices and fundamentalist domestic abuse. Ruthless Jabiru will draw on these direct experiences and the teachings of our community partners as the baseline of this production.

Arcola Theatre is one of London’s leading Off West End theatres, presenting major international artists alongside cutting-edge local emerging talent. Its socially-engaged, international programme champions diversity, challenges the status quo, and attracts over 65,000 people to the building each year.

Ruthless Jabiru is a conducted chamber orchestra dedicated to New music and humanitarian stories and one of the only orchestras worldwide committed to Activism in its ongoing work. Programmes are devised around existing and commissioned repertoire by today’s composers with a view to promoting sustainability and ethical dialogue. The ensemble has a fluid membership of emerging and professional Australian musicians from within the major British orchestras and chamber ensembles and is held under the official patronage of composer Brett Dean.

“Delicate, dedicated modernism… As ever with this orchestra the performance standards were impressively high, especially given the technical demands of the music.” – The Arts Desk

“A clear statement of intent… The orchestra has a clear musical identity and its future looks very bright indeed.” – Seen and Heard International

“A brilliant company.” – Australian Stage

Ruthless Jabiru will perform Silk Moth at the Arcola Theatre on 09, 10 & 11 August at 20:00 and 10 & 11 August at 15:00: Further details and tickets

Programme

Liza Lim The Heart’s Ear
Bushra El-Turk Silk Moth
Cassandra Miller Bel Canto

Creative Team

Kelly Lovelady conductor
Heather Fairbairn director
Charlotte Henery production designer
Sean Gleason lighting designer
Sapphire Goss video designer
Eleanor Knight librettist


source: Kelly Lovelady

 

Image credit: © Hannah Quinlivan, Immobilised (drawing performance with movement)

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

For my tenth birthday I was taken to London for the first time to see ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat’ at the London Palladium, I loved the experience so much that in the programme I circled the name ‘Mike Reed – Musical Supervisor’ and ‘Mike Dixon – Musical Director’ and in my dodgy ten year old hand writing I wrote ‘this is what I want to be when I grow up’.

Cut to eight years later I was lucky enough to get a place at the Royal College of Music as a pianist, which was until that point my main passion in life. To support myself through college I got a job as a church organist in Chiswick, the first Sunday I played the Vicar said to me I like to introduce you to somebody who I think you might find useful, and in walked Mike Dixon. At that moment I thought it was the most incredible coincidence, until the following week once again after the church service the Vicar said to me there’s somebody else I’d like you to meet, and in walked Mike Reed. At that moment I realised coincidences wasn’t a part of this, the stars had aligned and I knew that as a ten year old child I had wished for something and it was going to come true.

Mike Dixon and Mike Reed were then generous enough over the next few years to introduce me to the world of musical theatre, and their inspiration is what turned me into the musician I am today.

Who or what are the most significant influences on your musical life?

Beside the two Mikes, I was lucky enough to work for many years with Russell Watson, who not only inspired me to bring classical music to a wider audience, but was also a guiding light on the complicated side of business in the music industry.

I’m a firm believer that music is something that grows deep inside and the earlier it can start the stronger the music is. I was also lucky to have this from an early age with my first music teacher at primary school, June Davenhill. Because of Mrs Davenhill’s approach to music education, I had a ‘duvet’ of music surrounding me from an early age, I strongly believe that was what sparked my musical journey, and without that education I’m sure that today I would simply be a business man.

What, for you, is the most challenging part of being a conductor? And the most fulfilling aspect?

The most challenging part is the divide between the orchestral musicians and the conductor; due to its nature, a conductor has to lead, and as I started conducting when I was 18 years old, I found many of the older orchestra players had an attitude with a leader who was considerably younger than them. This is slowly easing as I get older, but it’s still one of the factors of my profession.

However, when I conduct wonderful orchestras, who also have wonderfully accepting players, these are easily the most fulfilling aspects of my career.

As a conductor, how do you communicate your ideas about a work to the orchestra?

Like all difficult things in life I find the key to being successful is in its preparation: if I’m well prepared and confident when I communicate this to the orchestra they tend to follow me very well.

How exactly do you see your role? Inspiring the players/singers? Conveying the vision of the composer?

For me music is all about energy, music played technically well but with boredom in the eyes of the players, equals a bad performance. I wouldn’t dare try to tell experienced players who are infinitely more capable of making music on their instrument than I am, how to improve their playing. I see my role as the source of the energy in the music, and I’m the ringmaster trying to combine all the talents in front of me to make a harmonious sound.

Of course the composer’s writing has a lot to do with that, but nobody wants to hear the same performance of Beethoven’s 9th again and again and again, therefore for me it’s more about the interpretation and creating a special performance which the audience will remember.

Is there one work which you would love to conduct?

As I’m still a pianist as well, I sometimes get the opportunity to conduct from the piano, one of the pieces I’ve always wanted to do this with but haven’t had the chance yet, is Rachmaninoff’s piano concerto No 2

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in?

I’m lucky enough that I’ve conducted in some of the great venues in the world, namely Sydney Opera House, Singapore Esplanade and all of the major venues in the UK. My favourite however is still a joint tie with the Birmingham Symphony Hall (this is where I grew up and the venue has a special place in my heart) and of course the awe inspiring Royal Albert Hall. Admittedly the acoustics at the RAH are possibly some of the worst in the world but the atmosphere is second to none.

Who are your favourite musicians/composers?

I love the piano playing of Stephen Hough, the conducting and outreach work of Esa-Pekka Salonen, and the music of Ravel, Rachmaninoff, Gershwin, Eric Whitacre and Fauré to name but a few.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

This is the easiest question of all; players who are enjoying their work equals audiences who enjoy their playing

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

Always think big. Always trust your gut instinct. Work hard but not at the expense of gaining life experience. Dive into the deep end and learn on the job. Be gracious to everyone you meet. And above all, realise that if you’re not enjoying the thing you’re doing, the people you are trying to please will never be satisfied.

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

For the past ten years I’ve been extremely grateful that I’ve never had a moment with no work, if I can say the same in ten years time I’ll be a happy man.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Being on a beach in Maldives whilst preparing some music for a concert, or composing/orchestrating for a forthcoming project (and probably with a g&t in my hand, with my wife next to me moaning I’m working, and my son tugging on me to play…!)


Robert Emery is a conductor, pianist, record producer and serial entrepreneur. He is lucky enough to travel the world; ranging from performances in London’s Royal Albert Hall, through to the Sydney Opera House. The Times called him ‘the eccentric barefooted maestro’ and the Mail quoted that ‘the assured baton was controlled by the rather energetic and brilliant conductor’.

Read more