I seldom select concerts to review based on performer. An interesting programme is usually what will pique my interest, and this was certainly true when browsing the Wigmore’s spring season of concerts: it is unusual to find Ligeti and Messiaen in the same programme. I didn’t know the performer and was unaware at the time of booking the concert that he was first prize and gold medal winner of the prestigious Arthur Rubinstein International Piano Master Competition.
Winners of competitions are often paraded before audiences with the promise of greatness. Generally young performers poised on the brink of an international career, too many may offer a bland synthesis of music, technically polished but lacking in insight or maturity. Not so Antonii Baryshevskyi, a young pianist from Kiev, whose impressive Wigmore Hall debut combined pristine technical facility and consummate musicality in a challenging and highly varied programme.
My interest in this form of meditation was piqued when a friend talked of following a mindfulness course and employing mindfulness as a way of dealing with feelings of inadequacy as a musician and the exigencies of everyday life. I decided to explore further to see if employing some techniques drawn from mindfulness could help me, in my musical life and every day.
Basically, “mindfulness” is an awareness of yourself and your surroundings. When in a mindful state, mindless “daydreaming” is replaced by presence, and attention to the here and now. It can also refer to specific meditative processes, such as those popularized by Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn, founding director of the University of Massachusetts Medical School Stress Reduction Clinic. Mindfulness has been shown to help people suffering from stress, anxiety and depression, including physical manifestations of stress disorders such as eczema and psoriasis, pain and ill health, and is approved by the UK Mental Health Foundation.
How I am using Mindfulness in my musical life:
Reaching a state of acceptance
I suffer from a certain lack of confidence as a musician (despite appearances to the contrary when I play and the many positive endorsements I receive from teachers, colleagues and friends). I realised that part of this stems from a habit of constantly comparing myself to others. I have resolved to stop comparing myself to others, to accept that certain repertoire just isn’t “right” for me (for whatever reason, technically or emotionally), that I don’t have to attempt pieces just because others are, and to focus on developing my own playing in repertoire that I enjoy and which interests me.
Banishing the inner critic
Alongside this sense of acceptance, I am learning to switch off the voice in my head which tells me I am “just not good enough”. I’ve realised that this voice is, in part, the manifestation of a variety of critical comments, from a music teacher at school to certain others who have hinted that I am committing some form of pianistic “hubris” by performing in public concerts or taking on works such as Beethoven’s Opus 110 or Schubert’s Sonata in A D959 (my current preoccupation). I now try to draw confidence from the positive and supportive comments from colleagues, diploma adjudicators, mentors and friends.
Mindful practising
Mindfulness enables us to practise thoughtfully, with concentration, commitment, improved focus and care. Too often I come across students (and others) who simply “type” their pieces, processing notes with little care or thought and revealing that their practising has been repetitive and mindless. Repetitive practise is important, for sure, but it should be both thoughtful and repetitive – and each repetition should be considered. Taking notice of what one is playing – each phrase, dynamic nuance, subtleties of touch, expression, articulation – will result in more efficient and rewarding practise, leading to vibrant and authoritative playing.
It also enables us to become more aware of our physical state when playing, to check that the wrists are supple and mobile, arms are soft, shoulders relaxed, and so forth, and to know to stop playing when the body becomes tight, sore or stressed.
On a broader level, mindfulness can make us more insightful as musicians, to connect better with our inner selves, be less self-critical, to see mistakes honestly and without fear and know how to understand and adjust them more easily, and to improve our playing and musicianship based on experience and intuition rather than self-criticsm: in essence, to better trust our musical self.
Dealing with anxiety
My main strategy for dealing with performance anxiety is knowing that the music has been practised deeply and is fully prepared, including at least three “practise” performances. In addition to this, I try to perform “in the moment”, to focus on the “now” of performing and to silence the destructive inner critic voice that wants remind one of all the slips and errors, and can stifle creativity and spontaneity in performance. After a performance, I try not to post-mortem it too closely, but to return to practising the day after with renewed interest and (hopefully) deeper insight, while looking forward to the next opportunity to perform the pieces.
Daily meditation sessions may not be for everyone (and this is not something I actively engage in) but increased awareness while engaged in music practise can help us reconnect with our instrument and our musical self, leading to improved concentration, physical awareness of the feel of the instrument under the fingers, tone control, quality of sound, expression, a vibrant dynamic palette, flow, musical insight and communication. While playing, banish the “mindless” thoughts that distract and fill the mind – “what shall I cook for dinner?”, “did I remember to collect the dry-cleaning?” – and focus instead on observing and listening to yourself playing. Try to notice things that perhaps weren’t apparent before or which you previously took for granted, and bring meaning, value, love and life to every note and phrase you play.
Article from ‘The Psychologist’, vol. 28, no. 2, February 2015
(image source: BBC)
In its simplest form Synaesthesia is best described as a “union of the senses” whereby two or more of the five senses that are normally experienced separately are involuntarily and automatically joined together. Some synaesthetes experience colour when they hear sounds or read words. Others experience tastes, smells, shapes or touches in almost any combination. I have ‘grapheme synaesthesia’ which means I experience colour when I think of letters, words, numbers, the musical keys, chords, the notes on the piano keyboard and music in general.
In this interesting article from The Psychologist, Jack Dutton meets people with the condition and the researchers who study them to reveal the very surprising world of synaethesia, including its impact on memory and how it may even be taught.
Who or what inspired you to take up composing, and pursue a career in music?
The intention to become a musician came very early. As a small boy I was mainly concerned with percussion. When I was sixteen composing started to fascinate me, especially after hearing a concert with Stravinsky’s .The Rite of Spring’.
Making music continues to captivate me. It is so elusive.
Who or what were the most significant influences on your musical life and career as a composer?
I believe my travels. Africa taught me to experience a special joy in life and a new sense of rhythm and movement. India and Nepal inspired me in the area of spirituality. These foreign experiences were an inspiration to support my work with a deeper meaning. The link between music and spirituality became particularly important.
What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?
There are multiple ones! For instance composing my first major orchestral work, my first opera, basically any new commissioned piece is another big challenge. But the most ambitious project so far was definitely my work Antifoon (A resonating bridge) (2014) for multiple orchestras, wind bands, choirs, different ensembles, carillons and two solo voices. Composing this work was one thing, but also taking the musical direction of 500 musicians on different stages on a large bridge between Hasselt and Genk (Belgium) was an almost undue risk. I had conducted my work before, but this was certainly of a different caliber.
It was quite a relief when it all worked out great.
What are the special challenges/pleasures of working on a commissioned piece?
Knowing who you compose for and working together with particular, often excellent performers can be very enjoyable. I work with very diverse musicians and cultural institutions, but I am also artist-in-residence for the Antwerp Symphony Orchestra and for Muziektheater Transparant. Both of them give me a lot of credit, I can shape my ideas in my own way, what I experience as an incredible luxury.
What are the special challenges/pleasures of working with particular musicians, singers, ensembles and orchestras?
You can go into the depth of a work and to the extreme. You can compose for people who are anxious to perform your work and often for an audience that is getting to know you. Also the feeling that the performance will be in good hands, is wonderful and reassuring.
How would you describe your compositional/music language?
I start from my own Western contemporary language, which I developed over the years, undoubtedly influenced by idols such as Ligeti, Messiaen and Xenakis. I am also highly fascinated by the musical language from other cultures, including rhythmic structures such as tala’s from Indian culture, microtonality from Arabic music culture and rhythmic grooves (also ostinatos) from African culture, which I try to apply in my own way into mymusic. Furthermore, I am always looking for new performance techniques and new sounds. My greatest aspiration is always to connect with the audience through my music.
How do you work (as acomposer)?
I start from inspiration around a certain idea or sound performance, which I intuitively try to understand and write down. I let my ideas flow, often at the piano. Then I search for certain systems, rhythmic or melodic motifs, harmonies etc. that are present in this inspiration. Subsequently I structure them in order to get a logic system and then I make a visual overview of the overall form, on one page. From that moment on I can start to work everything out in detail.
As a musician, what is your definition of success?
When you can develop or realize what you personally had in mind. When a composition or performance sounds as you had imagined it and when a part of the audience can go along with your story or make their own interpretation of your composition / performance.
Tell us more about the new CD ’Nostalgia’
When David Ramael, artistic director of Boho Strings, approached me about the idea of recording my works for string orchestra, I immediately responded with great enthusiasm. Many of my orchestral works have already been recorded on CD, but none of my works for string orchestra. The openness and creativity of this young ensemble and their search for new ways to introduce contemporary music to the public, also inspired me to make new versions of two of my works, Nostalgia and In Deep Silence III.With five very different works, this recording spans a large part of my compositional life and in a few works also shows the influences of various cultures on my work, as an outspoken western composer.A fantastic added value is also that three top soloists, flutist Valerie Debaele, marimba player Lin Chin Cheng and clarinetist Roeland Hendrikx, made a great contribution to this project. I have the feeling and hope that we have made a very accessible and listenable recording.
How has your interest in Eastern philosophy influenced and shaped your composing?
It became the foundation of my artistic thinking. It has also influenced my musical experience of time.
Which works are you most proud of?
Tejas for orchestra and Disappearing in Light, but I think Void the most, a work for music theatre in commission of Muziektheater Transparant. There was no semantic text, only sound combinations I had designed myself. I worked without a libretto or a story. A deep and spiritual performance of 75 minutes arose from an abstract, Buddhist yantra inspired form, and the impact on the audience was huge.
Who are your favourite musicians/composers?
They are very different in styles, historical and geographical, ranging from contemporary music to jazz, pop and ethnic music. Some names: Ligeti, Xenakis, Messiaen, Harvey but also Miles Davis, Björk and Frank Zappa. Also musicians from various ethnic regions.
What is your most memorable concert experience?
A concert that probably determined my musical evolution the most, was that with the Indian bansuri player G.S. Sachdev, in Antwerp in 1993.
What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?
Work hard and never give up. Have a positive attitude, an open mind, faith in your own abilities. Sometimes go against the flow, if you feel that it is right. Enjoy what you are doing. Communication is essential, both in terms of artists among each other, as with the audience.
Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time?
I would like to compose really vast works, an opera for example.
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Experiencing life intensely, with people I love and with music of course.
What is your most treasured possession?
Naturally you don’t possess people, but my family is very important to me.
Also health in the broadest sense – and of course music.
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