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I’m up in Manchester at Chetham’s International Summer School and Festival for Pianists – or “Chets” as it’s affectionately called – for the weekend. It’s my first visit, though I have of course known about the summer school for some years and certain piano friends of mine are regulars here, some returning year after year (one is on his tenth visit!). Said piano friends have been urging me to attend, so it was serendipitous when I received an invitation from Murray McLachlan, who with his wife Kathryn Page runs the two-week event, to attend, primarily to review the public concerts which take place each evening, but also to observe some teaching and general get a flavour of the Chet’s experience.

I have written before about the attraction of attending a piano course or piano summer school and the reasons why people keep returning to Chets were quite clear from my arrival: after 5 hours travelling up from my home on the Dorset coast, I was met by smiling friendly staff at the school and shown to my room in (attendees are accommodated within the school – it’s basic but you don’t spend a lot of time in your room!). In the atrium next to the magnificent Stoller Hall (which opened in 2017), there were groups of people – pianists – talking and laughing, friends greeted one another and there was a palpable sense of excited anticipation about the days to come: the teaching, the workshops, the concerts and the socialising. This is what people come to Chets for.

The rather confusing walk to the accommodation block, the staircases and long corridors reminded me of my first day at university, navigating my way around the hall of residence where I lived, but I suspect within 24 hours I’ll have got the hang of it and it will soon seem very familiar.

A quick change and it was down to Whiteley Hall for the first concert of the evening, a very interesting programme of music with electronics and live visuals, performed Canadian pianist Megumi Masaki with composer Keith Hamel and visual artist Sigi Torinus – a full review will be posted separately. As I was making my way to a seat, I met my friend Noriko and I must say it was good to see a familiar face in the crowd. Afterwards, she, her companions and I went to supper in the school dining hall, another place which brought a rather Proustian rush of memory from university days. By the time we had queued for food, I had got to know Murray, a first-timer who is here for the new piano teachers’ course. He’s never attended a piano course of any kind before, so he’s really jumping in at the deep end having signed up for two weeks!

After supper we made our way back to the Atrium/bar at Stoller Hall for pre-concert chat and drinks before a performance of the Goldberg Variations, then more drinks and socialising ahead of the final concert of the evening, a performance of music for two pianos with Bobby Chen and Douglas Finch. Prior to this concert, I took the opportunity to chat to various people – some were Chets regulars, others were newcomers. All mentioned the quality of the teaching here as a main motivation for attending, plus the convivial atmosphere (the teaching faculty mingle with participants and take their meals in the same dining hall).

Stoller Hall

The final concert was stunning – as was the venue, a modern “shoebox” hall much like King’s Place or Milton Court, designed by Stephenson STUDIO and the recipient of a national RIBA Award, with wonderful acoustics.

I’ve been here less than half a day and already it’s clear that the Chets experience is pretty full-on. Each day has a full programme of activities from teaching and workshops to public concerts, so now I’m off to bed as I’m rather “piano-d out”!

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

I was growing up around music. My parents are musicians and they practised at home, so when I received a little Chinese Strad violin for my 4th birthday, I thought music was something every one did. Music eventually turned out to be a big part of my everyday life and naturally progressed into becoming my profession.

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

When I was a child, probably my parents. I was going on tours with my father, who is a clarinettist, and was present at his rehearsals and concerts; he played lots of chamber music and as a soloist. My mother was a cellist in the orchestra of Ljubljana’s Opera House, which was almost like my kindergarten.

Some of my teachers, like the legendary Ruggiero Ricci, influenced me a lot and so did cellist Bernard Greenhouse and violist Rivka Golani. It is amazing how much we learn from other instrumentalists.

Chamber music was for me probably one of the best ways to learn about musicianship. It works both ways; you can be inspired and you can inspire. It is a conversation and a great way of training the intuition! I have been probably influenced by all people I have ever played chamber music with and especially by working and performing with world class artists, particularly Yuri Bashmet and Sreten Krstic.

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

The most memorable challenges have been:

  • Performing half of the concert with someone else’s violin after mine exploded (the tailpiece flew off during the concert with my string quartet)
  • Last minute call to step in for a concert (actually a couple of hours before the beginning, at the London’s King’s Place).
  • Being asked to dance while performing a solo piece with Shanghai Symphony Orchestra in China with Tan Dun in front of 5000 people

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of?  

Brahms Violin Sonata No.3 from the Wigmore Hall with pianist Simon Lane,

Bach Chaconne, Franck Violin Sonata from the concert in Girona with pianist Maria Canyigueral and Vivaldi double concertos with Sreten Krstic and the Slovenian Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra.

Which particular works do you think you play best? 

I believe I play best what I really like. For example: Brahms violin sonatas, Baroque; Bach solo sonatas, Vivaldi concertos…

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

These are a combination of my wish list, my standard repertoire and particular programmes that some concert promoters ask for. I always make a few drafts of various recital programmes and a few concertos.

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

My favourite venue is always the most recent one as I am still feeling the energy from the concert. So, a recent venue my violin particularly liked was the Lisinski Hall in Zagreb. I don’t know the reason why, but apparently my Da la Costa sounded really strong but sweet and warm. I also enjoy playing chamber music in smaller halls; the intimate setting brings audience closer to the performer and that creates a special atmosphere (the Wigmore Hall).

Favourite pieces to perform? Listen to?

Bach Harpsichord concerto in D minor, Schubert String Quintet in C major, Schubert Piano Trio in E flat major, Brahms Piano Trio No.1 op.8, Shostakovich Symphonies, Prokofiev Piano concerto No.2, Prokofiev Violin concerto No.1

Who are your favourite musicians? 

Ivry Gitlis, Martha Argerich, Glen Gould, Janine Jansen…

What is your most memorable concert experience? 

About six years ago I was performing Mozart Violin concerto in Dartington and just before the orchestra tutti  I finished my solo with a big show off gesture and my bow slipped from my hand, flying into the orchestra. Fortunately the tutti gave me enough time to pick it up and return to the position just before my next entrance… Some of the audience thought we were putting on a show and were asking: ”how many times did you rehearse the part where you throw the bow into the orchestra?”

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

We all know it is hard work pursuing career in music. But following our hearts and not giviving up is the key! We are so lucky to be doing something so beautiful; music is a world without borders, where all nations meet and connect with universal language. It is worth it!

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

10 years ago (!)

What is your idea of perfect happiness? 

Love + Freedom + Creativity + roof over my head = perfect happiness

What is your most treasured possession? 

Generosity. I would never give it away!

What do you enjoy doing most? 

Visiting wonderful places of the world and performing

What is your present state of mind? 

United state

Lana Trotovsek’s new CD of music for violin and piano by Granados, Franck, Finzi and Skerjanc, with pianist Maria Canyigueral, is available now.

Lana Trotovsek was a student of Ruggiero Ricci in Mozarteum Salzburg. In September 2014 she appeared in two concerts with Yuri Bashmet and the Moscow Soloists performing Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante and made her debut with Valery Gergiev and Mariinsky Theatre Orchestra in 2012 with Prokofiev Concerto No.1

Recent performances have included a recital in the Wigmore Hall, the Prokofiev Violin Concerto with the LSO and Gianandrea Noseda, performance of the violin concerto by Tan Dun under his baton with Orchestra Teatro Verdi, Slovenian Philharmonic Orchestra and Shanghai Philharmonic Orchestra, Tchaikovsky concerto with RTV Slovenia Symphony Orchestra and conductor George Pehlivanian, Tchaikovsky concerto with Sarajevo Philharmonic and conductor Uros Lajovic, Brahms concerto with Kalamazoo Symphony Orchestra, Michigan in USA, Beethoven concerto with Zagreb Philharmonic in Lisinski Hall with conductor Hans Graf and Mendelssohn concerto with Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia and Dirk Brosse in USA.

 Trotovsek has performed in the Wigmore Hall, Konzerthaus in Vienna, Teatro la Fenice in Venice, Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, Muziekgebouw Frits Phillips in Eindhoven and elsewhere in Europe, China, UAE and USA with a number of orchestras including the Mariinsky Theatre Orchestra, Moscow Soloists, Slovenian Philharmonic, Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra, RTS Symphony Orchestra Belgrade, Pilsen Philharmonic Orchestra, Vienna Concert Verein Orchestra, Chamber Orchestra of Slovenian Philharmonic among others.

Her performances have been broadcast on BBC Radio 3, Arte TV (France) and RTV (Slovenia). Lana has recorded for Meridian, Signum, Champs Hill and Hedone records.

She started to play the violin when she was 4, with teacher Majda Jamsek. At the age of 17, Lana was taken under the auspices of Ruggiero Ricci, who was her mentor for 18 months at the Academy Mozarteum Salzburg. She has also been guided by Ivry Gitlis, Ida Haendel, Pierre Amoyal, Tasmin Little, Georgy Pauk, Edith Peinemann, Bernard Greenhouse and Menahem Pressler and has studied with Volodja Balzalorsky and Primoz Novsak at the Academy of Music Ljubljana,  Vasko Vassilev and Rivka Golani at Trinity College of Music and at the Royal College of Music in London with Itzhak Rashkovsky.

Lana Trotovšek was the recipient of the prestigious Prešeren Award from the University of Ljubljana, Slovenia, which she received for her performance of the Khachaturian violin concerto in Slovenian Philharmonic Hall with Slovenian Philharmonic Orchestra under George Pehlivanian in 2005.

Lana is an assistent professor at the Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance in London in the class of Boris Brovtsyn and in the class of Volodja Balzalorsky at the Academy of Music Ljubljana, Slovenia.

She plays on Pietro Antonio dalla Costa violin made in 1750 on loan from a private benefactor.

www.lanatrotovsek.info

 

 

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In today’s fast-paced world, we seem to spend far too much of our daily lives trying to do everything at high speed or in a hurry, without allowing ourselves time to stand still and think, or to look up occasionally to admire a beautiful sunset or a starlit sky, or to listen – to the birds singing in the garden, or to the beauty and intricacy of a Bach Chorale. Or to just sit quietly and do nothing, even for just a few moments. (Since I moved from London to Dorset, I’ve really grown to appreciate the slower pace of life.)

As a food-lover as well as a pianist, I have an interest in the Slow Food Movement and concur with many of its values, and I think similar values should be applied to the way we play and teach, study and listen to music.

Many teachers and professional musicians advocate “slow practice” – playing a piece at half-tempo, or slower, to allow one time to examine all its elements, and to consider and learn them properly and really deeply. When I’m teaching, I find that most students want to rush headlong into pieces, and to be able to play everything that is put before them very fast and (usually) very loud. Children (and some adults) do not always have the patience or the understanding to take time to acquaint themselves properly with the way the music is constructed, to look for the composer’s signposts, and to consider, before playing a single note, the kind of sound, mood and character that the music requires.

I stood outside the door, unable to believe my ears. Rachmaninov was practising Chopin’s etude in thirds, but at such a snail’s pace that it took me a while to recognise it because so much time elapsed between one finger stroke and the next. Fascinated, I clocked this remarkable exhibition: twenty seconds per bar was his pace for almost an hour while I waited riveted to the spot…

Abrams Chasins, ‘Speaking of Pianists’ (New York: Knopf, 1967)

Slow practice is often the only way to tackle tricky or rapid passage work, awkward chord progressions, or uncomfortable fingering; it is also the best way to become really intimate with a piece of music, to understand the composer’s intentions and to examine all the details and architecture of the work. Listen to Murray Perahia or Glenn Gould playing Bach and you can hear from the way the music is played that these pianists (and they are not alone) have taken the time to understand the music intimately, not just the big gestures but all the interior structures, textures and colours as well.

Some years ago, when learning the trickier parts of the Toccata from Bach’s Partita No. 6, my then teacher suggested playing it “in the manner of a Chopin Nocturne” – i.e. slowly and mostly quietly. I was amazed at the difference this made, not just to the sound but also to the feel of the music under the fingers: my hands and arms were instantly more relaxed, more languid (but no less alert), as Bach’s Baroque arabesques were transposed to a 19th-century Parisian salon. Bach is always beautiful, but played like this, it was really beautiful, with every line and voice of the four-part fugue clearly defined, which later allowed me to balance the different voices.

Aside from the practical, technical and musical benefits of slow practice, maybe Slow Piano is also about taking time to really enjoy and savour the music we are studying, playing for pleasure, and listening to, and to encourage others to do the same.

Here is Sviatoslav Richter demonstrating “Slow Piano” techniques in Schubert’s Sonata D894 – one of the most thoughtful readings of this sonata I know. The opening movement is marked molto moderato….

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Nearly a month into this year’s Proms and the debate about clapping between movements has reached nigh on fever pitch, and is showing no sign of subsiding.

Rather like Brexit, there’s no middle ground in this debate: opinions are thoroughly polarised into two camps – those who don’t object to applause between movements and those who do.

This habit of applause between movements seems largely confined to Prom concerts: you’d never get it at the sacred shoebox of the Wigmore Hall, for example. Some would point to the fact that the Wigmore audience is “better educated”, or “more intelligent”, or “well behaved”. This implies that the Proms audience is ignorant, badly behaved, or just plain rude.

In a way, Prom concerts are not like other classical music concerts in the UK. Originally conceived by Robert Newman and Henry Wood to introduce classical music to a wider audience, the atmosphere at the Proms tends to be rather more relaxed, though often no less reverential, and the audience demographic far broader. The Proms attracts the classical music newbie and the committed classical music geek, who goes to every single concert in the season, and in between there’s a whole host of other people who enjoy the Proms experience. The etiquette is less rigid at the Proms – it’s much more “come as you are and enjoy yourself”, but in spite of this, the issue of applause remains a tricky one.

The custom of not applauding between movements of a symphony or concerto or other multi-movement work developed during the latter part of the nineteenth century. Both Mendelssohn and Schumann made attempts to prevent audiences from applauding between movements. Mendelssohn asked that his ‘Scottish’ Symphony, premiered in 1842, should be played without a break to avoid “the usual lengthy interruptions” and Schumann took charge of the matter in a similar way in his piano and cello concerti as well as his Fourth Symphony, but it was Richard Wagner who really instigated the custom as we know it today during the premiere of his opera ‘Parsifal’. By the turn of the twentieth century the concert hall had become the hallowed place it is today, and the conductor Leopold Stokowski even went so far as to suggest clapping be banned altogether lest it interrupt the “divinity” of a performance (there’s the reverence thing again….). This view persists today, particularly amongst the most trenchant anti-clapping faction of concert-goers.

The curious thing is that this attitude would have been totally alien to Mozart or Beethoven, Brahms or Grieg. In an earlier age, concerts were noisy affairs, the music played to the accompaniment of people talking and laughing, eating and drinking, and wandering in and out of the venue (indeed, at early Prom concerts, patrons were requested “not to strike matches” during quiet passages in the music). Applause was given freely and spontaneously, indicating appreciation and enthusiasm for the performers and the music. There was numerous applause during the premiere of Grieg’s piano concerto, while Brahms concluded his first piano concerto was a flop because there was so little audience response (except for the hissing, that is….). Today the pauses between movements are often filled with the sound of guttural throat-clearing or noisy unwrapping of cough sweets (far more intrusive in my opinion than the sound of clapping), and applause is reserved for the end of the work being performed. In the last 100 years, we have settled into this relatively recent habit of remaining silent during a performance, but maybe it is time for these habits to be reviewed and “modernised” a little?

Personally, I don’t have an issue with applause between movements. At the Proms I regard it as a sign of spontaneous appreciation and a sense that people feel relaxed in the atmosphere of the Royal Albert Hall. I don’t join in myself, nor do I squirm inwardly while thinking “blooming ignorant oafs!”. I’d never mention applause between movements in a review I’d written of a concert and I certainly wouldn’t describe the offenders as “selfish”, “ignorant” or a “Saturday-night tourist crowd”.

“this selfish group never left any of the silences alone”

“Encouraging this plays into the Classic FM-isation of music”

Sadly, such snobby attitudes towards those who applaud between movements only serves to reinforce the long-held and now very firmly entrenched notion that classical music is elitist and accessible to the few, not the many. And to link such people with a classical music radio station other than hallowed BBC Radio 3 is, in my opinion, offensive and patronising.

As an aside, it is interesting to note that Classic FM enjoys an audience amongst the under-35 age group of c1.2m (figures as at August 2017), and I like to think that these listeners also attend the Proms. After all, we’re supposed to be encouraging a younger audience to engage with classical music. Reminding them of the stuffy snobbish “etiquette” exercised by some at such concerts is not helping attract new audiences: many classical music ingenues (my husband included) have strong pre-conceived ideas about the habits and rituals surrounding classical music, the most frequently-mentioned being “I wouldn’t know when to clap”.

So please stop sneering at the clappers and consider instead of how to allow people to enjoy classical music in ways which make them feel comfortable, excited, engaged and eager to return for more.

I will end with a quote from David Pickard, Director of the BBC Proms, on the subject of applause between movements:

“I think that it is a wonderful sign of excitement and respect from the audience.”