I’m very fortunate, living in London, to have access to a wealth of live classical music. I could be at a concert every night of the week, if I chose to be (except that my family start to moan and rebel if I am out more than twice a week….). I love live music, and have done since I was a little girl when my parents used to take me to concerts by the CBSO at Birmingham Old Town Hall.  I am also lucky enough to be able to combine my love of music with writing about it, through this blog, my reviewing and my writing for a number of other classical music websites around the world.

I’ve been reviewing concerts regularly since 2011 and in that time I have often pondered the value of reviews. Music criticism (by which I mean critiquing and reviewing live music and recordings) has changed a great deal, thanks in no small part to the internet and the consequent rise of online review sites and blogs, and the ease with which people can access information and opinions. Because of this, reviews and critiques could be seen to be losing their significance as people go to the web for information. Back in the old pre-internet days, we sought out newspaper and specialist journal reviews to be informed whether it was worth going to this exhibition at the Tate or how Barenboim performed  in London, and respected critics were often held up as the well-informed arbiters of taste and culture. Today everyone has an opinion.

I’ve never regarded myself nor my writing as particularly special or important, and as a reviewer I certainly don’t regard my opinions or thoughts on a concert or artist as the last word…..I’m neither a professional music critic nor a music specialist and generally write from the point of view of the “punter” – the keen concert-goer with a decent smattering of musical knowledge, an inquisitive approach (which enables me to, hopefully, do the right kind of research and preparation for my articles) and a special interest in the piano, its players and its literature. My fundamental intention in my reviews is to give the reader a flavour of “being there” at the concert.

When I go and hear “great” or “legendary” artists in concert, the real top-flight performers such as Martha Agerich, Murray Perahia, Richard Goode, Stephen Hough or Mitsuko Uchida, I seriously question what this reviewing lark is all about. When we go to concerts by these artists we expect a certain level of extremely high-quality performance, and we nearly always get it. Even if the performer is having an off day or is ill, they are generally able to pull off a superb performance. So if we know these artists are going to play brilliantly, why do we need to review their concerts?

Certainly these artists don’t really need the endorsement of critics and reviewers: sure, it’s gratifying to read a flattering write up, but it’s hardly necessary because these are artists who have validated themselves and their work time and time again through their consistently excellent playing. Do glowing reviews of these artists simply confirm their greatness? Do they guide potential concert-goers to book a ticket the next time Argerich comes to town? If we know these people are so good, why review them?

A concert is usually a one-off event, unlike theatre runs or film screenings where a review might encourage, or discourage, one from attending. On this basis, one could argue that it’s fairly pointless reviewing a one-off concert that has passed, and by the time the review is published, the critic’s opinion may hold little interest or value for the reader/prospective concert-goer. But I think concert reviews serve a slightly different purpose, and this is the reason why I continue to write reviews.

A review is a record of the event and serves to place the concert in context (for example, a composer anniversary or a premiere of a new work). Whatever the source of the writing, good constructive criticism can encourage and publicise new talent or confirm or rediscover old talent, and encourage others to seek it out. Reviews also contribute to the history of an orchestra or ensemble, a piece of music, the career trajectory of an artist. Additionally, and importantly, criticism, whether it’s negative or positive should be about “a dialogue between the art form and the public” (John Allison)

Some argue that reviews are redundant and without value, and that newspapers, journals, music websites and blogs should instead offer previews of upcoming concerts and events. There is some justification in providing such content: advance feature stories may better serve readers by giving them an opportunity to make plans to attend something, but there again, I do not believe it is my job, nor indeed that of a mainstream newspaper or journal, to sell tickets to concerts and fill concerts halls. Nor are advance stories necessarily good pieces of writing/criticism, often being constructed from press releases and similar material.

So we continue to review concerts by the greatest living artists and the new and emerging talents, and all those in between – and why? Because I believe we still need to record the activities of these performers via intelligent, well-informed and well-written music criticism – in the blogosphere and in the mainstream media. Such writing prevents mediocrity and dumbing down, and, I hope, encourages variety, authenticity and objectivity.

In compiling this mixtape I’ve tried to include tracks that represent both the decades of my life and musical tastes.  Unfortunately Bucks Fizz’s Making Your Mind Up didn’t make the final edit although I was obsessed with this song towards the end of my first decade on this planet.  My rather rebellious teenage years are best represented by Bowie’s Heroes – like all teenagers I really did think this was written just for me and my friends.  My twenties coincided with the rise in ‘Britpop’ and after much deliberation I narrowed my choice down to Oasis’s Wonderwall – but the Directors’ Cut includes other greats from this era including Pulp’s Common People which narrowly lost out to the Gallagher brothers.

In my thirties I was travelling the world as part of my Corporate career, and spent many happy and insane weekends in New York – notionally for work but really to go dancing with my like-minded colleagues.  Lady Gaga‘s Telephone best sums up this decade for me, or what I can remember of it.

I’ve always loved some of the great musicals.  Whilst the Director’s Cut contains many of my favourite numbers, my selected track is Liza Minelli singing Cabaret – which, along with the Bernstein, will be played at my funeral.

An interest in my Jewish heritage has also led me to include some music with a Jewish theme.  John William’s Schindler’s List theme needs little introduction other than to say it is the best soundtrack to a film ever.  I’ve also included a classic Klezmer track which is typically haunting and uplifting at the same time, and the beautiful Shalom Aleichem which almost makes me want to light the candles and prepare a Sabbath supper.

My latest interest (or fad) is jazz and I am currently studying jazz piano: which is a totally different experience from classical piano.  Thelonious Monk‘s Smoke Gets in Your Eyes is a great example of what I’ll never be able to do in a thousand years.

Choosing music to represent my classical (in the broadest sense of the word) taste proved near impossible.  Wagner’s Liebestod missed the cut despite being the sexiest piece of music ever written (other than Tom Jones‘ Sex Bomb).  Instead,  I settled on music with a religious theme:  Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms no.2, the Hebrew setting to The Lord is my Shepherd, contains the most beautiful countertenor aria to which I expect people to weep copiously when it is played at my funeral (and then party to Cabaret).  To conclude my mixtape, the final Aria in Bach’s St Matthew Passion, “Mache dich, mein Herze, rein” (Make Yourself Pure, My Heart).  I’m sure there must be some way in which this sums up the entire collection but I’ll leave that to the listener to discern……

Here’s the 45 minute version:

https://open.spotify.com/user/r2knight/playlist/5iewBFnAcdYyk5QS60nSEX

And the Director’s Cut:

https://open.spotify.com/user/r2knight/playlist/7hFnnP8yYgLVCFfBXIaSQs


Rebecca Singerman-Knight is a piano teacher based in Teddington, SW London

rebeccasingermanknight.com

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Cracked Voices is a new song cycle, based on original research, created by writer Graham Palmer and composer Jenni Pinnock. Following in the footsteps of Schubert and Schumann, this is a cycle of “art songs” or poems set to music. Each song in Cracked Voices is short (around three minutes) with a character and story behind it drawn from the borderlands of Hertfordshire and Cambridgeshire (where Graham and Jenni both live).

From Servandus waiting on his lost Celtic goddess, to the POWs celebrating Hitler’s birthday on Therfield Heath,  James Lucas’s confrontation with Charles Dickens to Joyce Hatto’s “acclaimed” recordings later found to have been fabricated by her husband, the songs give voice to these largely forgotten characters through Jenni’s “tantalizingly beautiful” and accessible music and Graham’s vibrant text.

Jenni on the compositional process:

Working with a partner on a project gives you the opportunity to bounce ideas off of one another and ultimately produce better work (or at least, it has for me). Having the opportunity to work with a living writer is wonderful too – and quite a rarity really. It does mean you have to ensure your setting is true to the spirit of the text though, and the writer’s intentions. Capturing the spirit of the words and the essences of the characters contained therein is a challenge, and something I feel we’ve achieved in the Cracked Voices songs.

Alongside the song cycle itself, each song will work as a stand-alone piece and some will be arranged for choir, giving a whole host of performance options after the premiere. A CD will be released in 2018. Jenni and Graham are also involved in outreach projects which relate directly to the song cycle, including a series of workshops on writing and opportunities to give local people and schoolchildren the chance to find out more about the characters who are given voice in the songs.

Cracked Voices’ receives its premiere at Anglia Ruskin University, Cambridge on Saturday 10th March, with a further performance on 28th April in Royston. Full details and tickets here

 

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

I was born into a musical environment: my father, Bernard Rose, was a huge inspiration. He was a conductor, composer, scholar, organist, horn player, singer, inspirational teacher. I studied with him at Oxford and sang in his daily choir at Magdalen College, but before that I was a chorister at Salisbury Cathedral, as was my father, his brother and both my brothers. At Salisbury we had about 8 services a week, with about 12 rehearsals, from the age of 8-13. I remember thinking at the age of 12 or so that I wanted to be in music, and thought conducting would be good. My father sent me to have lunch with his old teacher at the Royal College of Music, Sir Adrian Boult, and Boult gently grilled me for over an hour over lunch, insisting that I should only pursue conducting if I really wanted it. This helped focus my mind. Leopold Stokowski used to stay frequently at our house from when I was very young, and I think this must have had an influence on me also. As soon as I went to Oxford I began serious conducting, having already taken on a small Oxfordshire choral society.

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

In the early days Christopher Dearnley, Organist at Salisbury Cathedral, and my first piano teacher, was a strong influence. Then at my senior school my teacher for A-level played me Stockhausen’s “Gesang der Juenglinge”. I was 15 years-old, and it blew my head off. I knew from that moment that I would dedicate much of my life to ‘living’ music.

When I left school I studied ’12-note music’ in Vienna with a former pupil of Arnold Schoenberg, and this has been a strong influence all my life. Whilst at Oxford I became fascinated by the conducting of Pierre Boulez, and used to go to watch him conduct. This was my main conducting influence.

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

The most challenging aspect is inspiring musicians, professional, students or amateur, to create exciting musical sounds, and, hopefully, display their enjoyment of this to the audience. Certainly, it is very fulfilling teasing the written notes into audible sounds, whether it be medieval music, Classical or music of today.

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

Through gesture as much as possible. When teaching conducting I stress the importance of “less talking is more music”. The fact that in the concert or recording venue at the moment of impact there is no speaking is a vital aspect of communication from conductor to musicians.

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

My first role as conductor is my being the representative of the composer in the room, from whatever period. I always do masses of research into the composer’s background at the time of composition, etc, before studying a work. I have had the pleasure of working directly with many hundreds of living composers, and I am a composer myself, so feel I am “on their side”! If the piece is not written out logically I do all I can to persuade the composer to make the scores as logical as possible.

Is there one work which you would love to conduct?

Stravinsky “Sacre de Printemps”

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in?

The Philharmonic Hall in St Petersburg, Russia, is unbelievable!

Who are your favourite musicians/composers?

There are too many to list. It goes from Perotin in the 1150s through to Machaut, Byrd, Tallis, Sheppard, Monteverdi, Bach, Mozart, Hummel, Beethoven, Mahler, Schoenberg, Berg, Webern, Stockhausen, Ligeti, Xenakis, Arvo Paert, Steve Reich…

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

Achieving a fine/masterful performance.

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

The joy of performing at the highest possible standard; rehearsal, rehearsal, rehearsal!

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

Still conducting and composing internationally

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

The morning after a great concert!

What is your most treasured possession?

The autograph score of Bach’s B Minor Mass

What is your present state of mind?

Good! I’ve just finished editing a new CD in Latvia and am preparing for my 70th birthday concert in April. I am a lucky person!

 

Gregory Rose’s 70th birthday concert is on 18 April 2018 at St John’s Smith Square. The programme includes several premieres, including a piece for solo voice with Loré Lixenberg and a new Violin Concerto, specially composed for the acclaimed violinist, Peter Sheppard Skærved.

Full details here


Gregory Rose is particularly noted for his performances of the romantic and contemporary repertoires, having conducted over 300 premieres of orchestral, choral and ensemble music throughout Europe and the Far East. He studied violin, piano and singing as a young child and was a pupil of Hans Jelinek (Vienna Academy) and Egon Wellesz (Oxford University), both former students of Arnold Schoenberg, and of his father, the late Bernard Rose.

Gregory is Music Director of the Jupiter Orchestra, Jupiter Singers, Singcircle and CoMA London Ensemble. He has conducted many concerts and operas for Trinity College of Music, including concerts with the Contemporary Music Group, and operas by Poulenc, Stravinsky, Virgil Thomson, Scott Joplin, Berthold Goldschmidt, Samuel Barber, Nino Rota and Malcolm Williamson. He is a professor of conducting at Trinity Laban Conservatoire.

Full biography