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Stephen Fry

THE CHRISTMAS STORY

Music by Thomas Hewitt Jones, narrated by Stephen Fry

Scottish Session Orchestra, Choristers of St Martin-in-the-Fields, directed by Andrew Earis 

An orchestral retelling of the Christmas Story, as told by the Gospel of Luke, narrated by acclaimed actor, broadcaster, comedian, presenter, writer and national treasure Stephen Fry, with the Scottish Session Orchestra and Choristers of St Martin-in-the-Fields, directed by Andrew Earis.

Written as a dramatic retelling of the Nativity, the journey to the manger is depicted through symphonic orchestration, dramatic underscore and soaring melody. The final culmination of the piece is a warm, life-affirming rendition of ‘Silent Night’ with choir and orchestra, during which audiences and congregations are invited to sing along with the melody line. Scored for Narrator, Orchestra and Choir joining for the last movement, it is a rich, multicoloured musical setting of the Christmas story according to Luke’s Gospel.

Composer Thomas Hewitt Jones says, ‘The Christmas Story’ was commissioned in 2019 by Canto Deo choirs and orchestra in Denver, Colorado. I have always been extremely passionate about the excitement of Christmas, and the feeling of rebirth that comes afresh each year. Therefore, when Canto Deo approached me earlier that year with a view to commissioning a through-composed orchestral setting of the beautiful text from Luke’s Gospel (King James version), I was delighted to accept. I through-composed the piece from start to finish, and the result is, I hope, a very warm, emotive, Hollywood-esque depiction of the enchanting Nativity story that has inspired so many generations. When the opportunity came to make this recording with the fantastic Scottish Session Orchestra, I approached national treasure Stephen Fry, with whom I had the pleasure of working during the London 2012 Olympics, and was delighted that he gave the text a customarily poignant reading. The work finishes with a quietly passionate rendition of ‘Silent Night’, sung by the Choral Scholars of St Martin-in-the-Fields, conducted by Andrew Earis.’

The Christmas Story is available now on all major streaming platforms. The orchestral score is published in the UK by Stainer & Bell https://stainer.co.uk/shop/hl454/

 

(Stephen Fry image by Elliott Spencer)

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Guest post by Lewis Kingsley Peart

Paderewski was an extraordinary character. Not only was he a world-renowned concert artist, but he was also the prime minister of Poland for a brief period. He maintained a ferocious touring schedule and was adored by audiences everywhere he went. He was so admired that people in the US would gather in their thousands just to see his train go by. The fact that Irving Berlin mentions the great virtuoso in his popular 1920 song, I Love a Piano, is a further testament to his fame and success:

“And with the pedal I love to meddle

When Padarewski comes this way

I’m so delighted if I’m invited

To hear that long haired genius play …”

While Paderewski was best known for his interpretations of works by Chopin and Liszt, he also wrote some charming music of his own. The Minuet in G, Op. 14 No. 1 is a piece that became world-famous, even overshadowing his larger-scale works such as the Piano Concerto in A Minor. The Minuet in G is very much a pastiche of the classical style, full of musical jokes and witticisms to tease and delight the listener.

The few opening bars of the piece present material that is incredibly simple: a narrow-ranged melody clothed in diatonic harmony. This continues for several bars until a rising left hand line (bar 15: C – C – C# – D); it is at this point that the strap of the gown is lowered off the shoulder, the champagne is poured, and the piece broadens into an effervescent musical treat. The piece offers many opportunities for the player to display their pianistic gifts: raucous octaves that thunder into the bass register, light-as-a-feather trills, a central lyrical section, and a nimble-fingered coda to finish. There’s also plenty of opportunity for a suggestive rubato here or the bringing out of an inner line there, if you’re in the mood, which I often am!

Many pianists have recorded the Minuet in G from Rachmaninoff to Liberace. You can hear (and see!) Paderewski himself playing the work here:

Rachmaninoff’s recording is a particular favourite of mine. He turns this small musical bonbon into a beautifully crafted jewel:

I’d also like to share with you my recording from a recital I gave in London earlier this year:

 

This article first appeared on Lewis Kingsley Peart’s website

Based in both London and Manchester, Lewis Kingsley Peart enjoys a busy life as a working musician. Organising projects as both soloist and collaborator, he programmes a wide variety of music from the traditional classical canon, right through to jazz and the avant-garde. With a strong background in theatre, his appearances are never without verve. 

Lewis made his debut at St. John’s, Smith Square in March 2018 in a programme of music celebrating the 75th birthday of the American composer, Stephen Montague. In the summer of 2021, he had the privilege of working with British concert pianist and composer, Stephen Hough, on his third piano sonata, ‘Trinitas’, for the Trinity Laban New Lights Festival of Contemporary Music. Highlights of the 2022 season included a concert for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival at St. Mary’s Cathedral, and his debut recital at London’s St. Martin-in-the-Fields. Lewis looks forward to future recital engagements and is excited to make his concerto debut in 2024. 

Lewis is a Chethams School of Music alumnus and graduate of London’s Trinity Laban Conservatoire where he studied with Philip Fowke and Alisdair Hogarth. 

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The Piano, a surprise hit for Channel 4 earlier this year in which talented amateur pianists performed in public on pianos placed in railway stations, is back for a second series – and the production company, Love Productions, is looking for participants.

Finalists from series 1
Lang Lang, Claudia Winkelman & Mika

The first series showcased amateur piano players across the UK, from major cities to rural towns. It introduced some remarkable talents, including Lucy, a blind, neuro-divergent girl who astonished and moved viewers with her expressive playing. Other participants shared personal stories where the piano and music had helped them overcome trauma or difficulties in their lives, as well as people who simply found joy in music. The series was a wonderful celebration of the nation’s favourite instrument, and the second series will continue this theme, seeking out more great amateur pianists from the around the UK. Once again, performances will be critiqued by superstar pianist Lang Lang and singer-songwriter Mika.

Applications are open to anyone who enjoys playing the piano, no matter what genre of music, be it classical, jazz, boogie woogie, pop. Essentially, as long as you are at amateur level and have a real passion and love for the piano then you are eligible to take part. Auditions/casting take place next month so you have just under a month to apply. The production company is particularly keen to receive applications from female/non-binary/people who identify as female pianists.

How to apply:

You can be any age to take part

If you are OVER 18, please head to takepartinthepiano.co.uk

If you are UNDER 18, please head to takepartinthepiano.co.uk/under18

Read about the first series of The Piano here

Watch series 1 of The Piano here

 

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Guest post by Jill Timmons, DMA

A number of years ago, my editor at the Oregon Musician* asked me to write on the topic of invisible work as it relates to performance and teaching. The dog days of summer were winding down and concert season was about to unfold. Students and teachers were returning to their academic schedules, and as my editor suggested, it might be a timely topic to explore how invisible work undergirds our careers as artists and educators.

I found myself pondering for days this notion of invisible work as it relates to the creative process. What is central to the lives of artists and teachers can be elusive in terms of a precise definition. Here in the distant outpost of the music industry, artists and educators devote vast amounts of time to their craft, a large portion of which often goes unrecognized. It’s a little like an iceberg. The visible part might be our public performances, reviews, recordings, publications, workshops, residencies, and the list goes on. As an educator, one’s professional persona can include students in recitals, auditions, competitions, master classes, service to the profession, and so forth. These are the public events, the actions we take that others see, and those tangible results that are evident. But this all hints at something deeper. Like all icebergs, the bulk of the structure lies hidden beneath the surface. For musicians, this is at the heart of our invisible but essential work. It contains our long-term commitment to study, to practice, and to the formal education that often begins in childhood. It requires a sustained and passionate devotion to the art. There are countless hours of practice, lessons, master classes, years of higher education, mentors, finding the right teacher, and a search for that cadre of like-minded folks pursuing their own pilgrimage into music. It’s all invisible work.

As artists and educators, we know experientially about this unseen and often solitary work. I am not writing about anything that is a mystery or an unknown. On the other hand, what is mysterious is how we convey this understanding and application of invisible work to our students and our audiences. Without the invisible work, there is no true encounter with music let alone a career. In an age when a student might win a contest with the same four pieces they have played for years, or when loud and fast is modelled by performances that feature theatrics and histrionics as new realms of performance practice, it is little wonder that our young people today may be short on time in the “invisible world.”

Invisible work has its own demands: blocks of uninterrupted time, a quiet space, self-reflection, study (not just drilling the notes!), scholarship, and countless hours alone with your instrument. You become the measure of your work and your mastery of the music, and it is you that know in that private way the struggles, the triumphs, and the arduous trek to fluency. This is why great teachers are the ones who offer a language and wisdom about the nature and necessity of invisible work. Without it, there is no artistry.

As teachers, we can validate and encourage the invisible work of our students. From our experience, we can offer a road map for this temporal and elusive terrain, confirming the power and necessity of this work. In our culture of instant gratification and unrelenting distraction, we can serve as a guide to our students into that private world of exploration, study, preparation, and mastery. If they are lucky, our students will encounter not only great musical works but also themselves. As teachers this is our invisible work.

From my vantage point, the biggest impediment facing artists, regardless of age, is the quantitative approach to life. It’s that insatiable appetite for more. For our young students it can take the form of more after-school activities, more extracurricular pursuits, more awards, ribbons, contests, trophies, you name it. Pile it up for that résumé. And I am not speaking of just young people. For professionals in the field, it can be an unquenchable thirst for more concerts, residencies, workshops, students, publications, degrees, accolades, piled higher and deeper. But more is not an indication of quality – it’s just an amount. Quality, conversely, is the result of invisible work, and invisible work requires time. Think of Einstein’s theory of relativity. As an unknown patent clerk, he laboured over that construct for years. There was nothing remarkable on the surface. But underneath was a reservoir of imagination, original thought, brilliance, courage, and invisible work. Einstein forever changed our notion of the universe.

Not all students, however, subscribe to Einstein’s model of how essential invisible work is to mastery and original thought. For those students who believe that volume is equated with excellence, a word of caution. The music profession has its own rules. The world of artistry and the gateway into the profession requires, first and foremost, quality. Only the depth of your artistry, and your integrity and wisdom in service to the music will sustain a career. It takes years to have entrance into this world and the price of admission is invisible work.

Years ago, I encountered a wildly talented student who could sightread just about anything in the advanced piano repertoire. And with a little practice, she could cobble together something approaching performance level. She had an extraordinary gift. For her, however, music was all about the tip of the iceberg – being on stage, tearing through “big pieces,” dazzling the audience, and so forth. It was a challenge to convey to her that without that invisible work of practice hours, lessons, going to a deeper level with her music, and cleaning up the technical fluffs, she would not reap that true reward – a deep and informed connection to composers and their music. It was many years into her professional training before she grasped in an experiential way the power of developing her invisible work.

Over the course of my life, I have been drawn to invisible work. It’s my joy and my passion. And while I relish the tip of the iceberg from time to time, it is the private labour that gives me the greatest reward and exhilaration. I continue to search for ways to convey this rich experience to my students. In addition to “iceberg,” there are a lot of “i” words connected with invisible work: intrinsic, illusive, interesting, illustrative, intuitive, integral, intriguing, illuminating, independent, to mention a few. These might be useful words to weave into our teaching as we enlighten our students and audiences about the power and impact of invisible work. Now that Fall is nearly upon us and as we return to our performance and teaching schedules, invisible work can continue to serve as the underpinning of our efforts. It’s a great time to reflect on what that means for each of us.

*Online scholarly journal for the Oregon Music Teachers Association—MTNA). Excerpts reprinted from Jill Timmons with permission from the Oregon Musician © 2016.

**For more information and an in-depth narrative, see my recent publication, The Musician’s Journey, Second Edition (Oxford University Press, 2023). https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-musicians-journey-second-edition-9780197578520