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Kingston Chamber Concerts launch, Thursday 18th May 2017

John Irving, fortepiano

Haydn: Sonata in A flat, Hob.XVI:46
Bach: Prelude & Fugue in F sharp minor (48, Bk.2)
Mozart: Sonata in C, K.330
Haydn: Sonata in E flat, Hob.XVI:49
Bach: Contrapunctus 8 from The Art of Fugue
Mozart: Sonata in B flat, K.570

For one night only the audience at the inaugural recital of the new Kingston Chamber Concerts (KCC) series at All Saint’s Church, Kingston-upon-Thames, were offered a fascinating and beautifully presented glimpse into the soundworld of Vienna in the late eighteenth century with a recital on fortepiano by John Irving. The concert was a treat for all sorts of reasons, not least because Kingston is a mere 15 minute bus ride from where I live – a privilege to enjoy such splendid music so close to home.

KCC is the initiative of local resident Leslie Packer and the stated aim of the series is to provide a platform for young artists and local performers in a friendly and convivial setting – the East End Cafe at All Saint’s Church. The audience were seated around small tables, reminisicent of the way music was enjoyed prior to 1850 when the modern concert format as we know it today developed. “Good wine” is also part of the KCC experience and my friends and I enjoyed a glass of delicious Riesling on arrival (and a second glass in the interval!). This undoubtedly added to the pleasure of the evening.

John Irving is an internationally-recognised Mozart scholar and is Professor of Performance Practice at Trinity-Laban Conservatoire. His concert programme, Keyboard Music from the Age of Enlightenment, featured piano sonatas by Haydn and Mozart, together with a Prelude and Fugue and a excerpt from the Art of Fugue by J S Bach. He had brought his McNulty fortepiano into the church especially for the concert. This instrument is a copy of a fortepiano by Walter, and one which both Haydn and Mozart would have known and played. The sound of the fortepiano is at first a little disconcerting: it’s more “clangy” than a modern piano and its voice is less resonant, but in the opening sonata by Haydn (in A flat, Hob.XVI:46) wonderful colours and orchestral tones were immediately revealed, from deeply resonant bassoons and horns in the bass to trumpet fanfares in the treble. The lighter action of the instrument, compared to a modern piano, made for really sparkling passage work, while the slow movement spun elegant melodic lines. The entire performance was imbued with much joy and wit.

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John Irving

The playing was interspersed with interesting commentaries, which illuminated both music and instrument, and gave us a flavour of the musical life and times in Vienna in the late eighteenth century, including an amusing anecdote about one of Haydn’s pupils who asked for the cross-hands section in the Sonata in E flat Hob.XVI:49 to be made easier so that she could play it. John also explained the reason for including works by Bach in the programme: Mozart was familiar with Bach’s keyboard music and transcribed many of his fugues for string ensemble. Meanwhile, the Art of Fugue was not specifically composed for harpsichord and its intricate contrapuntal lines and voices suit ensemble playing. The Prelude & Fugue in f minor, from the second book of Bach’s 48, felt curiously modern compared to the Haydn, elegantly shaped, with an austere melancholy; while the excerpt from the Art of Fugue was sensitively voiced, building in grandeur as the myriad lines of counterpoint interwove to create unexpectedly piquant moments of dissonance.

The sonatas by Mozart (in C, K.330 and B flat, K.570) revealed more of the colourful treble of the fortepiano in their sprightly opening and closing movements, while the slow movements were replete with operatic arias and long-spun melodies. Here, John improvised in the repeated sections, a practice which was common in the eighteenth and early nineteenth century.

This was a really delightful concert, engaging, informative and very enjoyable, and I wish KCC success with the first season. For more information about the series, please contact kingstonchamberconcerts@gmail.com / 020 8549 1960

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warwick-blair

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

My sisters used to play this track by Danny Kaye called ‘Thumbelina’, at 33 and a third, it was originally a 45 RPM recording, but they played it at a much slower speed, and consequently it used to freak me out, it used to scare me. I was only 3 or 4 years old, but it was the idea of the transformation of material. It remains very important to me and it marked a milestone, and if we’re talking a thread, that’s definitely one.

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

Although I have worked with Xenakis, and studied with Andriessen and Gilius Bergeijk; perhaps those composers can be viewed as more abstract.The fact that I was brought up in a household where Chopin’s music was revered, and played constantly, is a significant influence, resulting in an appreciation of lyricism and perhaps gesture. When I was living in London in the late 80s, I saw Dead Can Dance play at Sadler’s Wells, again a definite high point, showing me the possibilities of integrating pop cultural influences with a more classical music sound world. This shows itself in my practice today in the collision of styles, demonstrating a search for a deeper meaning, where eclectic diversity and temporal associations offer exceptional musical freedoms, where all sound is equally relevant and musical hierarchies are leveled, so that something more abstract, more universal, can emerge.

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

Although I am ambitious, being a New Zealander living in New Zealand, trying to bring my music to the world, via the UK. As I grow older and realise “who” I am; a composer, I will never stop writing music and that is the journey that I must accept and am on.

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

Apart from the obvious financial and emotional reward of being asked to write a commissioned work, there is no difference between a commissioned work and a non- commissioned work in terms of pleasure; they are equally pleasurable.

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

The challenge of working with particular performers is an understanding of psychology (or sometimes psychiatry, ha ha). After all did not Ravel say performers are slaves?

Of which works are you most proud?

The work that I’m most proud of originates from 1985 called Dream State, an electronic work that is a precursor to Generative music, using the Japanese modular synthesizer, Roland System 700. I’m proud of it because it’s quite pioneering in a way. The instrumental work Electric (aka State of Being) is an opera dating from 2013, which had its world premiere at the Tête à Tête opera festival. The scene called ‘Love’, I find especially moving.

How would you characterise your compositional language?

My compositional language is quite eclectic, but broadly speaking folk or tonally influenced. There’s a sense of egalitarianism, as Louis Andriessen has said, I am working at a new kind of ‘world’ or ‘universal’ metaphysical musical language. Perhaps in a way, I’m trying to find the ‘truth’.

How do you work?

I use a variety of equipment to aid my compositional process, be it a computer, iPad, iPhone or pencil & paper. i use a lot of sampling techniques. there seems to be a conceptual approach that informs my technical processes.

Who are your favourite musicians/composers?

They tend to be mavericks, who exist outside an established or accepted system, but cross all styles, for instance whether it be pop, world or classical.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

Dead Can Dance 1988 at Sadler’s Wells.

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

Music should have a conceptual reason behind it, for instance we don’t need another string quartet to add to the canon and history of string quartets, but a work such as my Stars, a 24 hour work, could be said to have value from its very nature; it being unique, although inspired by (Gandharva music). To have something to say, to have a point of difference, not to follow the mainstream, and to listen to all sorts of music constantly. To never give up and keep going, and to share love with the world.

What is your present state of mind?
To share love with the world.

 

Warwick Blair Ensemble, featuring musicians from both UK and New Zealand, perform at Club Inégales (1 June), offering a unique insight into the work of the ‘enfant terrible’ of contemporary Antipodean music.

Hailing from New Zealand, Warwick Blair has a reputation of one of the most eminent composers New Zealand has produced in years. Having studied under Louis Andriessen and Iannis Xenakis, Blair’s music fuses classical and indigenous traditions with electronics in a mesmerizing minimalistic soundscape. In this London residency, he will examine the concept of memory, with the ability of the mind to retain certain information and yet reject other selective memories has fascinated the composer for many years. His performances will become his personal explorations of a musical palette that draws on various seemingly opposing genres or styles, creating a compelling and challenging soundscape.

The concerts will offer two his most eminent works, Melusine (2015) and Etuden (2014), both premiered last year during his Kingston University residency. While the former demonstrates the influence of Puccini’s lyrical melodies and Wagner’s pioneering chromaticism, but also draws on serialism, the avant-garde and contemporary songwriters, such as Lorde & Rowland S Howard, Etuden is a work that combines the influences of Chopin and Billie Holiday.

warwickblair.com

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Guest post by Doug Thomas

“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” 

​This is what the German poet Berthold Auerbach might have answered had he been asked what the role of music was for him. To me, it seems plausible that music carries a significant meaning in most people’s life. Whether it is for a simple amateur, a true mélomane or a professional musician, it seems to always have a particular role, guiding people in their own existence.

In my experience, music has taken several aspects but three important ones prevail. Music has been part of my daily life for many years and wherever I go, whatever I do, it embellishes my world. It is also a great catharsis, and it is what allows me to compose and create on a regular basis. Most importantly, music is a source of intense pleasure which very few other forms of art have been able to provide me with.

Whenever I get tired of listening to silence, music comes to the rescue. I often see music in a similar way to the French composer Erik Satie – as furniture music. Music that is meant to decorate the environment or have a functional purpose. It is not necessarily music I pay much attention to. There are many situations were music sits in the background; at home on a lazy afternoon, during a dinner with friends or on a simple train journey.

I compose music for a living. In addition to fulfilling my need to create things, composing music acts as a sort of catharsis. It is a way to externalise my deepest feelings and emotions. Although I consider my music as somehow intellectual, the creative process often starts with a feeling. Whether it is the expression of happiness or deep sadness, or the simple appreciation of beauty. There is a splendid satisfaction once a piece of music is composed, a feeling of lightening, a burden which seems to go away.

Above all, I believe that music represents a fantastic source of pleasure. There are not many feelings comparable to the one I get when I hear a new piece of music that suits my tastes. Or the sensation I have when I hear one of my favourite piece performed live. Besides, there has been many scientific studies that have shown how music triggers emotional sensations in the brain.

​On a daily basis, music decorates the important moments of my life as well as the most meaningless ones. When I create, music acts as a deliverer of pulses and inspirations. More significantly, when music is at its best, it is a source of intense pleasure which makes the hair on the arms stand up, and gives the sensation that time has stopped for just a few moments.

The British composer Max Richter once said that making art was a way to deal with the problem of being alive. If we perceive the arts as being a toolbox to dealing with life, then in my opinion music is perhaps the ultimate Swiss Army Knife.

Doug Thomas is a French composer and artist based in London.
 
Since founding NOOX in 2014, Doug has released numerous solo projects, including Short Stories, Vol. 1&2, Angles and Cassiopeia. His interest in multi-media collaboration has also led to engagements with choreographers, photographers and visual artists from around the world, including London, New York and Reykjavík.

Doug has studied at the Institute of Contemporary Music Performance in London, as well as with Berklee Online College of Music. Some of his mentors include Jérôme Bechet, Dylan Kay, Audrey Riley, Maurizio Malagnini, Enrica Sciandrone and Stefania Passamonte.

“Music allows me to express ideas and feelings in a unique way. Each piece I compose is an attempt in finding balance between interest and beauty, within the limits of my own language and experience. I like the idea that music can provide us with an alternative to our daily life, whether it completes it, or helps us take some distance from it.”

Doug Thomas appears in a future Meet the Artist interview at www.meettheartist.site

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I don’t usually write about very personal things on this blog – except when they directly relate to my piano playing or music – but this morning we had to take the very difficult decision to have our beautiful Burmese cat Freddy put to sleep. Saying goodbye to a much-loved animal companion is never easy. Freddy had enjoyed a very long and happy life, but in the last few weeks he had become increasingly frail, could hardly stand and eventually stopped eating, and it was clear he was nearing the end of his life. As pet owners, we usually know when it is the right time to do the most humane thing (what a pity we are not at liberty to do the same to our human loved ones in similar circumstances…..). In his youth Freddy was a great wanderer, a fearless fighter and a slayer of squirrels, but he was also very companionable and he loved the company of humans.

My piano students, especially when they were young kids, loved Freddy and my other cat Poppy (who died in 2009), and Freddy would frequently “join in” with piano lessons, either by yowling loudly (he had a very distinctive miaow, a feature of his breed) while a child was playing or by jumping up on the piano, or sitting on the piano stool next to a student. Sometimes he would leap onto the keyboard and parade up and down – “Ooh look, he’s playing his scales!” the surprised and delighted student would exclaim. Once, when a pianist friend came to lunch, Freddy leapt onto the keyboard interrupting our conversation with what I claimed was “Stockhausen”. “That’s amazing!” my friend declared, rushing into my piano room to witness my cat playing “plinky plonky music”.

I’ve always lived with cats, and I’ve owned five cats (including three Burmese) during the course of my nearly 30 year-marriage. Cats strike me as good companions for pianists –  I know many pianist friends and colleagues who have cats. We both crave and often actively seek solitude and quiet, and a cat is an undemanding companion, unlike a dog who seeks attention and, rather like a toddler, cannot be left to its own devices for long. Cats are independent (something which non-cat people regard as a negative trait) and come and go as they please. Freddy would often wander into my piano room and sit under the piano, or join me on the piano bench, leaning gently against me as I played.

He will be much missed, as are all our cats, but I have a feeling we will not be without a cat for too long…..

Freddy (1996-2017)