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Guest post by Alexandra Westcott

People think the Alexander Technique is about posture. Or about how to stand up and sit down. But actually it is about our use, or most often misuse of the self. In all walks of life this misuse is going to have a negative impact, both physically and mentally, but as a pianist it is at the piano where I most often have shown back to me what needs to change, both at the piano, and then emanating outwards into the rest of my life.

We often complain “I have a bad back” or “my shoulders are tight”, rather than accepting our role in their demise: “I have misused my back”, “I have tightened my shoulders”, or “I can’t play fast passages”. But “the workings of the mind are not separate from our the behaviour of the mind’s owner” (Pedro Alcantara – from his book ‘Indirect Procedures’ – aimed at all musicians, not just pianists, and highly recommended).

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The first step in our desiring to be different is to know that we have to do different. And do differently all the time; not to expect to find one ‘fix’ but to find a way of being that is organic and responds to each moment as it presents itself. This takes a lot of attention, as over years and years we become a mass of reactions to stimuli, reactions that might have been helpful at one point, but which on becoming habits, are now less so! Take playing a fast passage. If we try to do it before we have an understanding that we can let it happen,  ‘trying’ creates tension and then…we are lost. No amount of tension will make for fluidity.

Digging deep into our habitual nuances is challenging because they are very subtle and ones to which we are so used that they feel ‘comfortable’. Why would we try and change something that feels so?  One of the challenges of utilising the Alexander Technique is that we have to be constantly and acutely aware of what is going on and prepare to feel UNcomfortable and unfamiliar. We need to try different things, and/or do the same things but differently, often with a completely different mental as well as physical approach.

Another misconception of the Alexander Technique is that one has to be relaxed. On the contrary. We’d end up in a heap if we relaxed our muscles all over. What we need is the right tension, in the right place, for the right length of time that is necessary. The ‘wrong’ tension is usually compensating for the right tension elsewhere. Again, we feel we need to ‘try’, but trying mostly creates the tension of which we desire to let go. More accurately we need a very careful ‘undoing’ of our habitual response. It took me ages to figure that one out. Doing so little felt slightly ‘naughty’ in a time and with a personality that feels ‘trying hard’ is ‘good’. But learning over time to do less, my fingers are now able to create flowing passages, and not being in a fixed ‘position’ I can mould the music more than if I were constantly in rigid tension. Before I discovered these ideas, I used to play my scales, major and both minors, from C/C#/D/Eb etc etc until I felt tired, thinking the goal was to do more, or for longer, until I got tired. Now I know that being tired means I’m misusing myself. Depressing a note means letting go of energy into the key, so a constant letting go should not create an increase of tension…  At this point it should be said that one cannot ignore posture, but just that using oneself correctly is not just ABOUT posture. Sitting with, again, right tension and an ‘upward’ direction rather than a curve or slump is necessary, but just the beginning of a whole way of using the self.

I have written about being curious when practising, something that musicians often fail to recognise during their time at the piano. They are too keen to ‘fix’, rather than spend time working out quite which needs ‘fixing’. Exercises that aim to solve problems are played in a way that embeds those problems and which can be ultimately harmful.  Played with inattentiveness, overeagerness, a fear of forgetting, a fear of missing out, a fear of being wrong, preconceived ideas, hurrying, all prevent any real new outcome. Buddhists  talk of ‘beginners mind’. We too have to lose everything we THINK we know and start finding out what is true, i.e. necessary.  Daily practice is often used as a search for control but over repeating one thing means overworking one mechanism and underworking others. Intelligent practice and the whole use of self is a much more economic and valuable use of time.

One of the dangers we have is to get something ‘right’ (for instance a flowing run) and then try to recreate what we did to get it. To retain an organic and responsive technique at the piano, to use Alexander’s words, we need to ‘reproduce not the sensations but rather their co-ordinative processes. The experience you want is of getting it, not having it. If you have something give it up.’

This of course seems illogical and tiresome, but it is also engaging and exciting and keeps the music and our experiences at the instrument alive.

It is extremely hard to describe specifics in writing so all this short article can do is whet an appetite for what is possible. A good teacher hopefully will direct you to ask the right questions for yourself, and show you the possibilities of how to approach the text with a different perspective.  From then it is an ongoing but fascinating journey.


Alexandra Westcott, BA

Piano teacher/Accompanist
Follow me on twitter: @MissAMWestcott

Guest post by Karine Hetherington

In early December, the beginning of the Christmas season, I attended a unique performance of Handel’s Messiah in the newly-refurbished Pillar Hall, Olympia. The modest red-brick building of Italianate design hugs the vast exhibition halls of Olympia. With a 250 seating capacity, it is an ideal venue for what was to be an intimate rendering of Handel’s masterpiece.

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Ten professional singers step out onto a small raised platform: three basses, two tenors, two altos and three sopranos. They are framed by two marble pillars with the chamber musical ensemble in front, composed mostly of strings, a trumpet and harpsichord player. All the artists look a picture in evening attire.

Down the road, at the Albert Hall, the same work is being performed with full choir, solo artists, conductor and full orchestra. Sheer numbers are of course de rigueur in large concert venues such as the Albert Hall. How else can you vocally fill a vast auditorium of amphitheatre- type proportions?

Back in Olympia meanwhile, the harpsichord player, the heartbeat of the music ensemble, strikes up. The distinct baroque sound transports us back to the 13th April 1742, date when Handel’s Messiah was first performed in the New Music Hall, Dublin. It was an extraordinary night. Dublin ladies had been told to arrive without hoops for their dresses and gentlemen without swords, to create more room. One hundred extra Dubliners were squeezed in to witness Handel’s magnificent Messiah. The small orchestra was borrowed from Dublin castle and a handful of singers plucked from the city’s theatres and cathedrals.

47161060_1893708670722933_3159876614410469376_nMiles Lallemant, harpsichord player and musical director of the Kensington and Olympia Festival of Music and the Arts, summed up this particular production at the Pillar Hall during my interview with him pre-performance: “This musical and singing ensemble would have been this size in Handel’s day, which makes our performance of the Messiah all the more authentic and exciting to play”.

Tenor Robin Bailey steps forward proudly and intones a robust ‘Comfort ye, comfort ye my people’, the opening solo. Canadian baritone, Andrew Mahon, follows shortly with his rich and smooth interpretation of ‘Thus saith the Lord’. He mounts and descends the lower registers effortlessly. His blond neighbour, James Geidt, sporting a full Victorian beard has a wonderful bass too but the style is different, his voice is all about vigour.  The three sopranos are sweetness incarnate. In such a music space, each soloist comes into sharp relief, their outward appearance, their personality and of course their voice, with its unique timbre and inflexion.

When alto soloist, Laura Lamph comes to sing ‘He was despised,’ her mournful voice reminds us of a young Kathleen Ferrier. Each poignant word is a soft dagger to the heart.

This is where an intimate space really works. A powerful and moving libretto such as this needs to be heard, especially as it is sung in English. A large choir, no matter how professional, cannot deliver that so easily in an echoing auditorium or in a cathedral, where music and words so often disappear up into lofty vaults and crannies.

And so is it a case of less is more in the music world? Not always. Music originated in churches. Not all churches have good acoustics. London, indeed the UK, has a wealth of musical venues to choose from, but the concert each time can only be as good as its artists.

The Amen in Handel’s Messiah ends in a gradual swelling wave of divine loveliness. All ten soloists unite to create a sound of extraordinary beauty and power.

If you close your eyes you can imagine a choir three times the size.


Karine Hetherington is a teacher and writer of novels, who also blogs on art and music. Her two published novels, The Poet and the Hypotenuse, and Fort Girard, are set in France in the 1930s and 1940s. Karine promotes singers and musicians performing in the fast-growing Kensington and Olympia Music and Arts Festival. She is also an arts reviewer for ArtMuseLondon.com. When she is not writing about music, she likes to sing in her local choir or tackle piano sonatas, some of which are far too difficult for her.

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

I started writing music when I was four, so I have no memory of why this was! My mother said that when I was three, I would watch television, go to the piano and play the music I’d just heard. I also loved placing my favourite story-books on the piano and would make up accompaniments as I read them. When I started school (Bedales School) aged four, I had piano and theory lessons and the head of music encouraged me to compose musicals! I wrote my first musical, ‘The Wombles’ aged four, which the school produced and then during the rest of my school life there (until I was 18), I wrote several more musicals, which were all performed. I never questioned that I was anything other than a composer (even though I learned the piano and clarinet during those school years), except I had a secret fantasy to be a heart surgeon!! I was a huge film and television addict as a child, which I think laid the ground for my career as film composer.

Who or what were the most significant influences on your musical life and career as a composer?

Along the way I’ve had some incredible teachers to whom I am indebted for their guidance, encouragement and teaching and to list them all would take a whole page, but Melanie Fuller at Bedales and Joseph Horovitz, during my undergraduate study at the RCM gave me the most formative and solid foundation that I rely on still to this day. Milton Babbitt, when I did my Masters at the Juilliard School, gave me much worldly advice and shared his experience and knowledge, even though musically we were worlds apart. For concert/classical compositions, my most significant influences are Stravinksy, Prokofiev, Ravel, Britten, Shostakovich and Sondheim; put those all in a pot and stir them up and out comes something like me!

For my theatre and film compositions, it is normally the film or play, director and producer that will dictate what music is needed and I can write in a wide variety of styles, but in the end I think my melodic voice comes through.

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

As a classical composer, earning a living was by far the greatest challenge! And in my 40s it was juggling being a single parent of three children whilst trying to start a new path towards film composing. I owe my children everything for their eternal patience during the time I did a second Masters degree at the National Film and Television School and since then for practically having no mother available when I’m chained to my desk up against tight film deadlines!

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working on a commissioned piece?

It was a very unexpected moment when Leon Bosch commissioned me to write four pieces for I Musicanti’s 2017/18 concert series at St John’s Smiths Square. In my mind, I’d turned my back on writing concert music, once I’d decided to focus on being a film composer. Ironically, last year, in a recording session for a feature film that I scored for Disney, ‘Growing Up Wild’, Leon was in the session orchestra and discovered my music through that. His commissioning me was like life tapping me on the shoulder, making sure I did not forget my roots!

I have found writing concert music again frightening, as I’ve got so used to writing to picture and having a film to support. even if I prefer having those constraints!

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working with particular musicians, singers, ensembles and orchestras?

For a commissioned piece, it’s important to know the ability of the players you are writing for, along with the planned time they have to rehearse. I think for a future life of any piece, it’s important for the musicians to know this is a piece they can program again and that it’s performable! With these particular commissions for I Musicanti, I am aware I have virtuosic musicians to write for, and I worry that I’d let them down by not writing something that gives them a platform to show their skills and gift. But at the same time, I have tried not to let this cloud my idea of what the piece should be as a whole.

There is no greater pleasure than hearing my work brought to life my real musicians and in the case of i musicanti, world-class musicians.

Of which works are you most proud?

There are a few pieces I wish could be performed again. I composed two pieces that had Royal premieres; a piano quintet for my father’s 70th birthday that was ‘Theme and Variations’ of Happy Birthday, performed in front of Prince Charles and a piece for chamber choir, ‘God of the Sea’ performed for Princess Margaret at Windsor.

I think the concert piece I am most proud of was my cantata ‘The Happy Prince’ which was performed with narrators, choir and orchestra at St John’s Smith’s Square in 1993. The reviews it received recommended it was performed at the Proms and that is still something I dream of. My father wrote the libretto and we would both love to hear it performed again.

How would you characterise your compositional language?

My concert work is melodic and probably the best description of its harmonic language would be neo-classical/bi-tonal.

How do you work?

I have a studio at home for my film composing, which involves a computer, screens and full size Roland RD700 weighted keyboard. But right behind me sits my Steinway Grand, which I bought in the New York Steinway showroom after I graduated from Juilliard. It’s my most treasured possession and signed inside by Steinway’s grandsons.

Most of my film work and all my concert work begins at the piano, with manuscript paper and pencil, and eventually gets put into the computer for editing.

Who are your favourite musicians/composers?

I have very eclectic taste and impossible to list all, but to name a few, other than my main influences I listed above, I’d include (in no particular order): Leonard Bernstein, John Williams, James Horner, Chet Baker, Bach and Stevie Wonder!

What is your most memorable concert experience?

Seeing Robert Carson’s production of Britten’s opera, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ in Aix-en-Provence’s open-air theatre in 1991. One of the most magical experiences I’ve ever had.

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

Perseverance, don’t listen to naysayers and keep a still centre!

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Hanging out with my three grown up kids and dogs at home, wearing pjs and drinking cups of tea and watching a movie with them! This is always perfect happiness for me.

What is your most treasured possession?

My late mother’s wedding ring, that I wear, and my Steinway Grand piano.

What do you enjoy doing most?

I’m most at peace when I’m working.


Alexandra Harwood is an award-winning film composer, whose films have screened worldwide and include awards and nomination for BAFTA Cymru, BIFA, Anima Mundi, Edinburgh Film Festival, IDFA and Locarno.

After graduating from the Royal College of Music (Dip Mus) and then The Juilliard School (MA) Alexandra was composer in residence for the Juilliard Drama Division, during which time wrote for theatre productions in New York and England. Amongst numerous commissions that have been performed world wide are The Happy Prince (cantata for soloists, chorus and orchestra) libretto by Ronald Harwood, St John’s Smith’s Square, London; Untitled (voice and percussion) for Audra MacDonald, Avery Fisher Hall, NY; and  Sonatina (alto flute and pianoThe National Flute Convention, chosen repetoire,  2009,USA ; Theme and Variations-  written for Sir Ronald Harwood’s 70th Birthday, performed in the presence of HRH The Prince of Wales.

Experience in theatre and concert work led to taking an MA in film composition at the National Film and Television School, which began a career as a film composer.

Film scores include, Dancing in Circles (BAFTA Cymru winner 2015 dir. Kim Strobl), What A Performance! Pioneers of Popular Entertainment (BBC) , Z1 (BIFA winner 2013 dir. Gabriel Gauchet), Girlfriend in a Coma (BBC), Harry Potter Celebration (Warner Bros.), The Substitute (dir. Nathan Hughes-Berry), Satan Has a Bushy Tail (Film London. dir. Louis Paxton), Kids Say (Flourman Productions. dir. Lilian Fu), The Key (MewLab Productions. dir. Kim Noce and Shaun Clark), No Man’s Land (IDFA nomination 2013 dir. Michael Graverson), Four and Flat Frog (Inkymind Studios), Automatic Flesh (Ballet Rambert).

alexharwood.com

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

A series of unfortunate accidents! As a fairly straightforwardly academic child I stumbled into an open evening given by the brass teachers of the local peripatetic service. I really can’t remember why I thought it was a good idea, but there was a tuba lying on a classroom table and it chose me there and then.

As a tuba player in youth orchestra I had a lot of bars rest – often whole movements or pieces. To relieve the boredom (and if I’m honest to try to stop myself being a nuisance to people with actual notes to play), I started bringing the scores to rehearsals and following those. It didn’t take long for me to start wanting to hear more of different sections of the orchestra, or wonder how it would work at a different tempo, it was then a short step to formal study, though I don’t think even then that I had any thought of doing it for a living.

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

The two most significant early experiences were that of my youth orchestra, but possibly more importantly playing in a very high-level brass band. The culture of dedication, discipline and excellence there was something I shall never forget. Punctuality, alertness and concentration were taken absolutely for granted, and the precision of ensemble and intonation was astonishing. It set standards for me.

After that, three teachers had an enormous influence. My first conducting teacher was Michael Trowski, who was also the conductor of my youth orchestra. He is a wonderful all-round musician, and a very supportive friend who I learnt from as much playing under him as in our lessons. After university I studied with Alan Hazeldine, who pushed me hard to keep focused and to treat conducting as an all-round set of skills that encompassed not only physical technique and score-reading but also mastery of the psychology of orchestras and managements. He also arranged for me to watch and meet Sir Colin Davies who offered several gems of insight that I will always treasure.

But by far the most profound influence on my career in the past decade has been working with David Parry. As his assistant and colleague at Garsington, I was given the most incredible insights into the wonderful world of opera where I have spent much of the last decade. In particular, his peerless facility in the bel canto repertoire has led that to become something of a specialism for me, although I undoubtedly conduct it very differently from him and this ability to nurture conductors without turning out carbon copies of himself is what makes him such a great colleague and mentor.

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

As the question implies, this is often the same thing. Every room is different and every person in that room is different. They all want and need something different from you and that will vary ensemble to ensemble, piece to piece and week to week. One of Colin Davis’ brilliant insights was that our job is not to conduct the piece, but to conduct the people who are playing the piece. The fact that the same gestures, explanations, ideas will communicate in one setting but not another is an endless challenge, but the satisfaction of finding a way to let a group of brilliant and talented people make music together to their maximum potential is one of the most fulfilling experiences imaginable.

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

Very simply! A wonderful colleague once advised me never to say anything in rehearsal that I couldn’t express in my third language. If I couldn’t say it in German or Italian it was probably too complicated. I think this is wonderful advice. Whilst I have complicated poetic and metaphysical ideas in my head, they are only allowed out through my hands, eyes and body. If you heard me speaking to an orchestra, 99% of the time it would be about the practicalities of note-lengths, balance, intonation, and tempo.

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

I am definitely the composer’s representative in the room, and I feel very strongly that it’s my job to bring not only the composer’s ideas but their historical context, assumptions, faith, politics and personality to the rehearsal (though as per above, this generally stays in my head unless really interesting to anyone else!).

Following from that, I think that it is my job to have the whole picture in my mind, whether that be an opera or a symphony, and to be responsibility for the integrity of that. Each singer in an opera needs to be focused on their character, motivations, and emotional arc. My job is to make sure that these knit together into a story. This is why it is often a good sign if we disagree, or at the least have different emphases. Likewise in an orchestra, any given player (or section) has to concentrate on phrasing, articulation, intonation. To let them do that, and to mesh all of those individual lines into a coherent whole, I take charge of the balance, tempo and ensemble so that they focus on making music.

Is there one work which you would love to conduct?

Too many! I’ve been very very lucky and been allowed to conduct a huge range of repertoire from the 13th century to the present so have no complaints. But having gained a reputation for English music and the Italian bel canto I wouldn’t protest if someone booked me to do Walküre…. or Boris….

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in?

I am a huge fan of the various Frank Matcham theatres around the country. The Hackney Empire is my home turf and I feel a special affection for that space, but Buxton, Cheltenham and Wolverhampton are all glorious venues to make music in. That said, I’m looking forward to making my Bridgewater Hall debut next year which may change that…

Who are your favourite musicians/composers?

No favourites! Verboten!

Though more seriously I have never failed to fall in love with a piece I’m working on.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

Cynically, it’s the moment when you’re spending more time and energy on doing the work that looking for it.

But fortunately success comes daily when we bring music off the page and through our performance into people’s lives. Every single audience member whose soul goes home lighter after a show is the reason that we’re here.

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

They need to have an absolute clarity of purpose. They need to have addressed the big questions: Why do we do what we do, who is it for? Why is it important? They need to have this core of confidence in order to develop resilience to the thousand natural shocks that anyone in the performing arts faces daily.

I think they need to come to these conclusions for themselves and we don’t need to agree. In fact for the continued development and evolution of our profession it’s better if we don’t! It’s very unclear to me what our world and profession will look like in ten years’ time, let alone twenty. Anyone entering now needs to know why and bring with them a readiness to make music in different ways and in different places, so that we continue to touch audiences.

Arthur Sullivan’s complete incidental music to Shakespeare’s Macbeth and The Tempest with his concert overture, Marmion, performed by sopranos Mary Bevan and Fllur Wyn, Simon Callow (speaker), the BBC Singer and BBC Concert Orchestra, conducted by John Andrews, is available now on the Dutton Epoch label


John Andrews is Principal Guest Conductor of the National Symphony Orchestra, Conductor-in-Assocation with the English Symphony Orchestra, whom he conducts regularly at the English Music Festival. He has conducted the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and concerts in 2018-19 include the 2018 International Composers Festival, the Bridgewater Hall with the Manchester Concert Orchestra, and the London Handel Festival with the Brook Street Band, the Malcolm Arnold Festival and Baroquestock.

His performances of Donizetti’s Pia de’ Tolomei for English Touring Opera, were praised for his ‘highly cultured, shapely and pressing direction… ’ whilst Bachtrack described his interpretation of Lucia di Lammermoor as ‘faultless’. Recent credits include Humperdinck’s Hänsel und Gretel with the Young Artists of Garsington Opera, Die Entführung aus dem Serail for the Rostock Volkstheater, and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland for Opera Holland Park. In 2018 and 2019 he returns to English Touring Opera for Rossini’s Elisabetta, regina d’Inghilterra, and Il segreto di Susanna for Opera Holland Park.

John is currently making a series of world-premiere recordings with the BBC Concert Orchestra, BBC Singers, BBC Symphony Chorus and The Brook Street Band for Dutton Epoch and EM-Records. The first of these – Sullivan’s Music for Macbeth and The Tempest – was named a Disc of the Year in The Sunday Times, described by Hugh Canning as ‘pure delight’. Future releases include Arne’s The Judgment of Paris, and Sullivan’s Haddon Hall and The Martyr of Antioch.

His gift for combining empathy and feel for both music and musicians with an ability to directly and powerfully communicate his ideas, together with his passion for locating music in its social and historical context, brings dynamism and warmth to his interpretations of both rare and classic repertoire.

johnkandrews.com