In 1952 a composer called John Cage told us there was music in silence, and the world hasn’t been the same since. Today, the gradual wearing away of stone by water, the echoes of gravitational waves, and the caloric metamorphosis of food into energy may all be understood as musical works, a privilege for which we are indebted to Cage.

September 5, 2017 would have been Cage’s 105th birthday, and to commemorate and honor our favorite sonic philosopher, Ace Hotel and the John Cage Trust, in partnership with Mode Records, present Untouchable Numbers, a 24-hour listening event beginning at 12am. Cage’s sounds, and silences, will play throughout lobbies and public spaces of all nine Ace Hotels as the earth completes one full rotation, freely and open to the public. Visit individual listings for Chicago, London, Los Angeles, Pittsburgh, New Orleans, New York, Palm Springs, Portland and Seattle for specific venue information.
Learn more about where to hear Cage across Ace Hotels properties here, and consider booking a room with the promo code SILENCE, valid for stays from 9/4-9/6. RSVP suggested but not required. Seating in public spaces is first come, serve.
Listening is a radical act.
NYC_JohnCage_suite_web_quote_1X_V3
(source: Ace Hotels press information)

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

When I was a teenager, I never thought of pursuing a career as a pianist. I used to play a lot of classical and romantic piano repertoire but just for the personal joy of playing. I was much more into rock and punk music. The life of a classical musician seemed to be quite boring and bourgeois to me, even after starting my piano studies at university. At this point I was totally uninterested in any contemporary classical music and pieces I heard by composers like Boulez or Stockhausen sounded too academic for my taste. At the time, I didn’t know about contemporary genres like minimalism or any electro-acoustic music and I never imagined that there could be “classical” composers out there influenced by the same music as me. My view completely shifted after I started listening to “The people united will never be defeated” by Frederic Rzewski. The eclecticism of this work, the political attitude, and the combination of elements from both popular and classical music made me reconsider my view of what a pianist is able to express on stage. From this point on I wanted to be a professional pianist.

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

Frederic Rzewski definitely had a large effect on my decision to pursue a career as a pianist but, for my own musical style, there are a wide range of influences. I admire composers like George Antheil and Henry Cowell for their uncompromising and radical approaches towards the piano as a noisy sound monster, but also composers like Erik Satie or Philip Glass who are able to create an almost transcendental sound out of the most simplistic material. At the moment I’m very much into post-rock, which to me feels like a mash-up of both of these sound aesthetics. This mood somewhere between mania and meditation is what I try to transfer to the piano when doing my own arrangements.

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

At the end of my studies after I was about to leave the comfort zone of the university, I recognised that I was a classical pianist but with quite a strange repertoire and an unusual way of setting up my concert programs. I felt too superficial for the contemporary music hardliners, too progressive for the classical traditionalists but still too serious to be part of the popular culture. Falling between these schools became my niche. I liked the idea of being kind of intangible for the audience, and it gave me the opportunity to reinvent myself with every new project or album. But that’s sometimes a long journey.

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of?

Every recording is a very unique project to me, reflecting just a current idea or an aesthetical statement at a certain point of my life so I would say that there isn’t one particular album I’m most proud of. There is, however, obviously always a moment after finishing each album when you feel a great sense of pride as a result of all of the hard work put in: from the first conceptual idea to the last mixing session.

Which particular works do you think you play best?

I stopped playing Beethoven piano sonatas in concerts after I recognised that my interpretations had nothing more to add to the interpretations I’d already heard by all those great pianists. I’m convinced that you can only be a true musician if you have something new to say through the music you play. My motivation as a musician is not to try and imitate what hundreds of pianists have previously done before me but to explore hidden links within different genres by reworking pieces or discovering rarely performed works. I hugely favour American piano music; from George Gershwin’s colourful jazzy rhythms, to the dark and sensual soundscapes of George Crumb, to the works of the American minimalists. This music suits me best.

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

The process usually starts with a piece that I’m obsessed with at the time. This work then forms the conceptual basis for a new program. In the case of “Beauty in Simplicity”, there was a track called “A new error” by German techno group Moderat. This work reminded me of Philip Glass’ piano works. My first thought was then to prepare a program that picks up on classical minimalism but also explores elements of Techno and Ambient Music. There is a strong aesthetical connection between Brian Eno and the music of Erik Satie so there was suddenly a new storyline going back to the 19th century. For the next step, I went through a lot of original piano music repertoire as well as tracks I wanted to rearrange for piano. From this, I compiled a set ranging from the Paris salons to Berghain held together by the compositional ideas of patterns and loops.

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

I really love playing in planetariums. I started this two years ago with my “Insomnia” program and I am planning on doing this with my upcoming album “Beauty in Simplicity”. It’s a place that gives me the opportunity to create a very special concert experience by combining the music with fulldome visual art and building up a three-dimensional soundscape. You’ll hardly find this kind of hypnotic atmosphere in any other concert venue.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

I think it was when I first performed Rzewski´s “The people united will never be defeated” back in 2009. I worked on this masterpiece for almost two years until I had the courage to go on stage with it. I was totally absorbed into the background story of the piece. Playing this piece felt like being part of a revolutionary fight using the notes as weapons. There was just so much adrenaline released during these 65 minutes of music.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

There is always a sense of ambivalence in the life of an interpreting artist: are you a servant of the performed work or should the work serve to the performer? I feel successful if both of these are fulfilled: by making another’s work my own either on stage or during a recording.

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

As a pianist I can say: don’t expect to be a universal genius, focus on a repertoire that fits your personality and makes you authentic. If you were a pop musician, no one would tell you to play jazz today, heavy metal tomorrow and drum ‘n’ bass the day after, just because it’s all part of the pop culture. Classical pianists are often expected to cover more than 300 years of music history. A classical education requires you to play Bach just as well as Mozart, Chopin or Stravinsky. Find the mistake.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Like a famous German entertainer once said: “having nowhere to be and being tipsy”.

 

Kai Schumacher’s new album Beauty in Simplicity is released on 1 September

 

Kai Schumacher delights in pushing the boundaries between classical and popular music while avoiding the wellworn clichés “Crossover.” Boasting an impressive pedigree, Kai studied at the renowned Folkwang University Essen with Prof. Till Engel, passing his „Konzertexamen“ with distinction in 2009. Since then, like a musical mad scientist, he has been constantly experimenting and combining seemingly incompatible elements with surprising results. His solo performances are acts of pure musical – and stylistic – alchemy, serving up heady mixes of Dadaism and Dancefloor, Avantgarde and Pop culture – sometimes all at once!

When not engaged in genre-defying pursuits, Kai Schumacher‘s repertoire focuses on American piano music of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. His debut recording of Frederic Rzewski‘s monumental “The People United Will Never Be Defeated” (2009) was hailed by Fono Forum magazine as a “pianistic sensation” and voted CD of the month. On his second album, “Transcriptions” (2012), he bravely turned to the musical heroes of his youth – Rage Against the Machine, Nirvana, Slayer and others – remixing them and transforming the concert grand into a four squaremeter sound monster, a mechanical sound-effects board, complete with prepared percussion. His third album “Insomnia” (2015) is the story of a nocturnal odyssey, at once soothing and disturbing. It´s five restless “hymns” to the night feature the works of five American composers written over the past 80 years.

On his current album „Beauty in simplicity“ (September 2017, NEUE MEISTER) Kai Schumacher is combining original piano compositions with his own arrangements for „enhanced piano“ to create a repetitive set between meditation und mania. Including works from three centuries ranging from Erik Satie through Steve Reich to Moderat Minimal Music meets its classical pioneers and descendants in Ambient, Techno and Post-Rock.

Kai Schumacher also works as a producer, regularly appears as an orchestral soloist and has toured throughout Europe, Asia and North- and South-America.

kaischumachersite.wordpress.com

(artist photo by Bonny Cölfen)

audience

Concert etiquette. Yes, that old chestnut, doing the rounds again, getting bloggers, reviewers and audience members all hot under the collar….. To quote my friend and fellow blogger ‘Specs’: “audience behaviour seems to be such a ‘hot topic’ at the moment, it might as well be in a furnace balanced on a bonfire surrounded by lava. (And since that’s a fairly accurate description of being inside the Royal Albert Hall much of the time, perhaps the two are connected.)”

Aside from all the hand-wringing and eye-pulling on the subject of applause (when, how and why – of which more in a subsequent article), there is the question of general behaviour at concerts. Some people say that the etiquette of classical music – sitting quietly during the performance, trying not to disturb fellow concert-goers with coughing, turning the pages of the programme, or trying to silently opening blister packs of cough sweets (it’s impossible, I know) – is what makes classical music elitist, but the same etiquette is expected of theatre- or cinema-goers.

When we go to a live concert, we choose to do so in the knowledge that we will be sharing the auditorium with other people. These other people are, en masse, known as the audience, and without them there would be no concerts. Audiences are human – living, breathing, moving, sentient human beings – and when you go to a concert and become part of the audience, you accept that you are going to be surrounded by people who might move, or make a very small noise or tiny disturbance…… The vast majority of us who attend concerts do so with a sense of courtesy towards our fellow concert-goers and we enjoy the experience of sharing this wonderful music with other people in the special space that is the concert hall.

Sadly, a minority of concert goers seem to have a problem with this….. I was upset to read a post by a Facebook/blogging acquaintance who reported that during a concert at the Edinburgh Festival he moved slightly to cross his legs and was promptly punched on the shoulder by the person sitting behind him and ordered to “stop moving around, you fool!“. That the concert-goer reacted so aggressively to what I am sure was a very slight movement on the part of my acquaintance is disturbing in itself; that it happened at a classical concert, that art form where one expects civilised, courteous behaviour, is really quite shocking. Unfortunately, this is not the first incident of this kind I have encountered. Some months ago at a concert at the Wigmore Hall, I witnessed a man some rows in front of me smartly whack the couple in front of him with his programme because they were being just a little bit smoochy. It happened not once but twice during the evening and it was an unnecessary and overly aggressive reaction, in my humble opinion.

Concert venues do their absolute best to ensure the experience is pleasant for everyone. There are regular reminders to switch off your mobile phone and other electrical devices which might disturb the concert (watch alarms for example), to stifle coughing as far as possible (the Wigmore sensibly sells cough sweets at the desk in the foyer and most venues will allow you to take a bottle of water into the auditorium) and to be tolerant of other concert-goers. I am not overly troubled by coughing, nor am I especially bothered by the whole “applause between movements” business. But talking during the performance is a big No No for me – it’s discourteous to other concert-goers and disrespectful to the musicians – as is checking your Facebook timeline on your smartphone. And crowd-surfing is not recommended either….. (see below)

It seems to me that some concert goers would prefer to have a private concert, just them and the musicians, without the bother of tiresome other people and their irritating natural human attributes. To which I say, if that’s how to you want to experience music, I suggest you stay at home and listen on the radio or on disc in the quiet privacy of your own home.

Good behaviour at concerts was inculcated in me from a very young age. My parents took me to many classical concerts when I was a little girl – mostly at the old Birmingham Town Hall – and I learnt to sit quietly during the performance and to stifle my yawns: my mother used to tell me that yawning was very rude as “the musicians might notice and think you are bored!“. Having now been on the other side, so to speak, as a performer, I can safely say that when one is involved in the business of performing, one doesn’t really notice the audience that much (I doubt you could spot someone yawning in the audience from the stage of the Birmingham Town Hall!), but it also helps if you can sense the audience are still alive and engaging with the performance. I love that collective sigh that one hears just before the applause comes, or the sense of people listening incredibly intently, the atmosphere so thick, so powerful you could almost reach out and touch it.


Further reading:

Clapped Out

Getting Rid of Claptrap

How to Save Classical Music according to Stephen Hough

Scientist Kicked out of Classical Concert for Trying To Crowd Surf

 

In our commercially-driven modern times “success” tends to be measured in monetary terms, and those people who have achieved the dizzy heights of a very large salary and financial security long into the future are generally regarded as “successful”.

In fact, most truly successful people don’t measure their achievement in financial terms – some regard personal happiness or satisfaction and self-fulfillment as the definition of success, others the opportunity to live the life they truly want and deserve, and not just the life they settle for. For most of us, success is highly personal.

For musicians the definition of success is very broad, reflecting the diversity of musicians’ career paths, and the musicians I talked to in writing this article cited far more indeterminate definitions of success, beyond strictly tangible rewards. Many mention the experience of performing, of touching or moving the audience through the power of music, or the satisfaction of knowing, in concert, that one has done a good job.  Very few of the musicians I spoke to mentioned monetary rewards. Given the precariousness of the musician’s career, not to mention the self-doubt that regularly looms, the thoughts of “am I good enough?”, I think an important key to a sense of personal success is not allowing others’ metrics to define your own success: maybe you don’t secure big concert fees, but if you are asked back to play with an orchestra you really admire, this can be a very positive measure of success.

The following quotes are from professional musicians (soloists, chamber musicians and orchestral players) and music teachers.

Looking into the audience and seeing someone clearly blissing out. Or crying. Preferably crying

Touching people. Making them pause from the hectic cacophony of life to take a breath

To be given a genuinely humane, fair hearing, removed from others’ varying needs to either ignore, gratuitously denigrate or, just as bad, over-praise…

Knowing I’ve done my very best. Creating something unique to me (and hopefully to others’ experience, too). Knowing that performers get a lot out of performing my work, despite (or perhaps because of) the challenges. Knowing some people get it, or at least get off on it in some way. Waking up in the morning really excited about the piece I’m currently composing. Having the respect, admiration and support of my peers and ultimately managing to pay the bills through doing something I love and am passionate about!

Feeling, in a concert, that the audience is actively listening to what you are playing.

Having projects I’m excited to work on with musicians I like working with. Making music that is meaningful to some people. Feeling like part of a music community. Earning a living through making music.

When you feel happy and fulfilled – and secure.

To reach the moment of magic on stage regularly

When the aims and aspirations of preparation and practise are fulfilled in performance.

Not sure a performance should ever be considered a ‘success’. Doing so means you are content with what you’ve delivered. Different levels of failure perhaps? “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.” (Samuel Beckett).

As a player, the occasional experience of performing as if ‘out of one’s body’. As a composer, an audience being moved by the performance of a piece I wrote.

I have to say, the only real mark of success is being able to make music at all: to sing melody, or to write one down…to play one on an instrument or to compose, as I do, for multiple instruments…Success is really only being only to make sounds in time that are animated by true feeling. Beyond that, there are all kinds of formal elements to address….but success is just making the original musical response.

Being able to determine one’s own projects and having enough to get by in the meantime to do so — as opposed to having to take whatever comes by just because we need the money. Otherwise, for me, playing wherever whenever — doesn’t have to be Carnegie Hall so long as there are people to listen!

 

And some quotes from Meet the Artist interviews……

The ability to express one’s inner soul and communicate on a completely different level through the power of music is unparalleled in any other form of human communication and having the ability and determination to achieve this is immensely rewarding. – Paul Griffiths, organist

To be in line with what you do artistically. (Whether this works out commercially speaking is another question) – Francesco Tristiano, pianist

Of course we all need endurance and dedication to succeed. But sometimes, success can be measured on a more everyday level – like dealing with a less than perfect piano, or resisting the urge to run away just before the start of the concert! – Reiko Fujisawa, pianist


Further reading

How do musicians know when we’ve made it?

successful-musician