The Royal College of Music (RCM) has a strong tradition of pianists who have established themselves on the international stage in song and chamber music. Perhaps the most famous is Benjamin Britten who is often remembered for his duo performances with Peter Pears. Other song pianists who studied at the RCM include Julius Drake and Malcolm Martineau whilst Roger Vignoles is the current Prince Consort Professor, a position that Geoffrey Parsons also held.

In recent years both Gary Matthewman and Alisdair Hogarth have distinguished themselves as song pianists of note and there is a long list of former RCM students who have excelled as chamber musicians including Katya Apekisheva, Alisdair Beatson and Danny Driver. More recently, students have had successes in national and international competitions including Ian Tindale who won the pianist prize at both the Wigmore Hall Song Competition 2017 and Ferrier Competition and Gamal Khamis who won the pianist prize at the 2017 Ferrier Competition.

For those wanting to specialise in piano accompaniment, the RCM has a robust Masters course led by pianist Simon Lepper. During the two years of training, pianists not only develop a broad knowledge of the instrumental duo, chamber and song repertoire but they are introduced to the skills of being a répetiteur, ballet pianist, continuo player, orchestral pianist and vocal coach.

Previously-named the Masters in Piano Accompaniment, those beginning the course in the 2019/20 academic year will be following the Masters in Collaborative Piano. The renaming reflects the diversity of the course and the changing perception of what it is to be a pianist who follows a predominantly ‘non-solo’ career. For many years it has been thought that the term ‘collaborative piano’ was coined by the American, Samuel Sanders. However, it appeared much earlier and closer to our shores in a paper written in 1930 by the Irish pianist and composer Hamilton Harty. Below is a quote from ‘The Art of Pianoforte Accompaniment’ which offers a compelling argument for the change of name.

‘The chief cause for the neglect of the art of accompaniment is to be found in the absurd and unfortunate title of ‘Accompanist’, with all that it implies. Whatever may have been the justification for this name in the darkest early Victorian ages, it is now nothing but a stupid and misleading misnomer for a musician who is called upon to exhibit very rare and special qualities. “Collaborator” would be more explanatory and a much more desirable description…’

He goes on to expound both the practical and artistic benefits of following such a career path.

‘It is only common sense, then, to study a branch that will not only furnish one with at least a sufficiency to live on, but which will bring to one’s life the utmost musical pleasure and interest.’

ffwuzu-ySimon Lepper, Collaborative Piano Co-ordinator at the RCM, explains: ‘The renaming of the Royal College of Music’s piano accompaniment course reflects the evolving role of the collaborative musician, recognising their breadth of skill and acknowledging the diversity of opportunities on offer to those pursuing this rewarding career.’

Applications for the Royal College of Music’s Masters programme are open now. Information on courses and how to apply can be found on the RCM website at www.rcm.ac.uk/courses/postgraduate.

For further information about Collaborative Piano at the Royal College of Music please contact Simon Lepper (Collaborative Piano co-ordinator) simon.lepper@rcm.ac.uk

www.simonlepper.com

 

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

Actually no one in my family is a musician; I never had pressure from my family, and the start of my adventure with music was one of the most natural processes – so natural that I still don’t know if I chose the music, or if the music chose me.

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

Definitely some things I’ve read – philosophical essays, some big German, French, Italian and Russian novels. And of course the holy books.

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

Every time disenchantment has made its way into my heart.

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of?

Always the next one!

But I’m still touched by some unbelievable experiences, such as my debut at the Royal Albert Hall in London with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.

Which particular works do you think you play best?

The new one I’m going to practice!

But Mozart is without any doubt a great friend of mine.

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

I try to understand the changeable directions of my artistic wishes, and follow them. A concert programme should be a coherent spiritual journey, where different composers and music works interact and connect with each other, reaching a common vision at the end.

Some composers, however, are like lights in the dark for me: things may change on the surface, but deep inside they are always there. I can think of Mozart, Beethoven and Schumann, who have always been very close to my soul.

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

The Amsterdam Concertgebouw: that staircase seems to be the stairway to heaven!

Who are your favourite musicians?

Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, Grigory Sokolov and Sergiu Celibidache.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

A concert with Maestro Gergiev in St. Petersburg. The concert was at 10pm, he arrived at 9.55pm. No rehearsal. Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No.3 on the menu. My debut with him and his orchestra. Live broadcast in all Russia. I wouldn’t wish those first five minutes on my worst enemy!

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

To me, this kind of success simply doesn’t exist. Art is a never-ending creative process, and for this reason it will always be ahead of us, moving infinitely, and as finite humans we will never catch up!

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

Just one: that there can be no Beauty if it’s not connected to the Truth.

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

I don’t know where I’d like to be, but I certainly know where I’d like not to be: in the land of illusion. I wish to always remain devoted to the Truth.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

When a human being is able to connect with all his own innermost feelings.

What is your most treasured possession?

My will.

What is your present state of mind?

Restless.

Federico Colli appears at this year’s London Piano Festival which runs from 2-6 October at King’s Place. More information


Italian pianist Federico Colli is internationally recognised for his intelligent, imaginative interpretations and impeccable technique, praised for his ‘crystalline brilliance and translucence that takes you to the heart of everything he plays.’ (Gramophone)
Federico first came to prominence after winning the Salzburg Mozart Competition in 2011 and the Leeds International Piano Competition in 2012. Since then, he has been performing with orchestras including the Mariinsky Orchestra, St. Petersburg Philharmonic, Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, RAI National Symphony, BBC Symphony, Royal Scottish National, RTÉ National Symphony, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, Hallé Orchestra, Philharmonia Orchestra, Vienna Chamber, Camerata Salzburg, Klassische Philharmonie Bonn, Polish Radio National Symphony, Philharmonie Zuidnederland, Pomeriggi Musicali Orchestra, Orchestra della Toscana, National Philharmonic of Ukraine and Orquestra Sinfônica Brasileira; at venues such as the Vienna Musikverein and Konzerthaus, Berlin Konzerthaus, Munich Herkulessaal, Hamburg Laeiszhalle, Beethovenhalle Bonn, NDR Landesfunkhaus in Hannover, Amsterdam Concertgebouw, Muziekgebouw Eindhoven, Barbican Hall, Queen Elizabeth Hall, Glasgow Royal Concert Hall, Usher Hall in Edinburgh, Liverpool Philharmonic Hall, Dublin National Concert Hall, Salle Cortot in Paris, Rudolfinum Dvorak Hall in Prague, Auditorium Parco della Musica in Rome, Teatro degli Arcimboldi in Milan, Lingotto in Turin, Philharmonic Concert Hall in Warsaw, Teatro Municipal in Rio de Janeiro and the Mariinsky Concert Hall in St Petersburg.

Read more about Federico Colli

As friends and followers of this blog probably know by now, I moved to Dorset at the end of May after 40 years living near or in London. We spent six weeks in temporary accommodation with my mother-in-law and our cat Monty, with just some basic furniture and effects to enable us to function and continue to work day to day (my husband runs his own business, working from home). Meanwhile, the bulk of our furniture and belongings went into storage. Three days after we moved into our new home on the island of Portland, near Weymouth, a large Pickfords van arrived to deliver our effects and left us a few hours later surrounded by packing boxes. The efficiency of Pickfords’ packing service ensured that every box was clearly marked, though some were rather ambiguous, such as “shoes and books” – which turned out to contain all the files associated with my London piano teaching practice. As I gradually unpacked, drawing our possessions out of their wrapping paper, a certain item – a book or a vase – would elicit a response or a Proustian rush of memory. Finding photos of my son as a baby and little boy were particularly poignant and special (he is now 20, living in his own flat and working as a chef at one of London’s top hotels).

It also occurred to me, as I worked my way through the boxes, that being reunited with these items, accumulated over a marriage of nearly 30 years and remembering how and why they came into our home and our joint lives, was like reacquainting myself with piano repertoire I had learnt previously. Just as I recalled why that mid-century white vase was special, so I also recalled what I liked about the repertoire and why I selected it in the first place. Some pieces go back a long way in my piano life – to when I was a teenager (Schubert’s D899 Impromptus, Mozart’s Fantasies), or when I was starting to play the piano seriously again as an adult (Bach’s Preludes and Fugues, Chopin’s Nocturnes). Others have more recent heritage – the music I learnt for my performance Diplomas or pieces played in concerts, which will always remain special because of their association with positive and enjoyable performances.

Returning to previously-learnt repertoire can be extremely satisfying – like reacquainting oneself with an old friend, while also making a new friendship. Some pieces reveal their subtleties and qualities more slowly than others and benefit from a cycle of work, rest, work, rest. A prime example for me is Mozart’s Rondo in A minor, K511, a profoundly emotional and complex work which I revisited four times and will work on again this autumn, such is the work’s appeal and breadth. Picking up a piece again after a long absence often offers new insights into that work, revealing details one may not have spotted the first time round, while time away from the music – perhaps spent listening or reading about it – helps one crystallise thoughts and form new ideas to put into practice. It can be surprisingly easy to bring previously-learnt work back into one’s fingers, and this ease is a good sign – that one learnt the work deeply in the first place.

At the time of writing, my grand piano is still in storage with a friend in London. In the meantime, I have been enjoying listening to music I’ve previously learnt while also considering new repertoire for performance later this year.

Oh, and I’ve also been enjoying the fantastic scenery on Portland…..

Henry-Storybook-50

The title of this post is a quote from an interview with pianist Gabriela Montero. Story-telling is about conveying a message and music is of course all about conveying messages, telling stories and stimulating the imagination, of listener and performer. Some pieces have evocative titles which hint at the story within, while others have nothing more than a generic word like ‘Sonata’ and a number. In concerts or recordings, programme/liner notes may tell the whole story of the music for the listener, or suggest certain events within the work, providing signposts, while leaving the listener to form a personal narrative during the course of the performance.

Composers create the sense of a narrative through musical devices such as dynamics and tempo, the contouring of phrases, melody, repetition, tension and release of harmonies, articulation, suggesting different instrumentation, and the use of pauses and silences. Because we spend our lives with stories, from the moment we are born, listening to them and sharing them, we absorb the patterns which make up stories: we sense when drama or tension is building and feel relief or pleasure at its release or resolution. These same patterns fill music: certain motifs or harmonies suggest particular moods, from triumphant joyful fanfares to moments of heart-stopping tenderness or poignancy; suspended harmonies take the listener to the brink, while the resolution brings wonderful sense of completeness or homecoming. The performer’s role is to act on all these devices to create a performance which is rich in expression.

A good story evokes an emotional response, positive or negative, in the audience, and a good story engages and absorbs the listener, excites and inspires them. It also makes them want to hear more of the music. But in order to convey the message to the audience, convincingly and expressively, we first have to form our own distinct narrative for every piece we play.

Asking ourselves questions about the music can pique the imagination to start forming a narrative –

  • “What does this section make me think of?”
  • “What emotions is are evoked in this passage?”
  • “How does this harmony make me feel?”

Using words to describe the music, not technical/musical terms but other adjectives which spring to mind when considering the piece, also stimulate one’s vision. Sometimes it’s helpful write these words on the score as an aide memoir.

From the initial hearing of a work, we each form a personal story for it, based on what we have heard. It may not be exactly the same story the composer had in mind, it may be very far from their original vision, but in order to shape the music expressively and communicate the story of the music to the audience, it is important to form a narrative and vision for the music from the moment we start work on learning it. When we take ownership of this through deep practising, this narrative becomes internalised with all its drama and tension, its triumphs and tragedies, its love and death. This then enables us to bring the music vividly to life in performance and to communicate the stories to our audience.

In performance, we express our and the composer’s humanity to the audience, and we succeed in making our connection to the audience stronger through our storytelling.

I try to decorate my imagination as much as I can

– Franz Schubert


Further reading/resources:

Stimulating the musical imagination

The Musical Adjectives Project