‘Symphony of Sorrowful Songs’ at English National Opera
The final work in ENO’s 2022/23 season, a staging of Henryk Górecki’s Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, made for a poignant, beautiful and moving close to a season beset with anxiety about the future of ENO in is current home, the London Coliseum, after Arts Council England (ACE) slashed its funding and demanded that the opera find a new home outside London. This is all part of the government’s so-called “levelling up” policy, but for many of us who care about such things, it – and other acts of desecration by ACE – feels like an attack on culture and also on excellence.
These points were more than touched upon in an emotional pre-performance speech by Stuart Murphy, outgoing CEO of ENO, who warned Nicholas Serota, Michael Gove and others that “history is watching you”. Murphy’s speech garnered enthusiastic support, with a few shouts of “Tories out!” from the balcony.
What followed was a performance which demonstrated exactly why we should value ENO and what it does – and what makes it distinctive from London’s other great opera house.
Of course Symphony of Sorrowful Songs is not an opera. It’s an orchestral work in three movements by Henryk Gorecki (1933-2010), a composer hitherto almost unkown outside his native Poland until this work hit the classical charts in the early 1990s in a recording featuring soprano Dawn Upshaw with the London Sinfonietta. The album remained in the charts for weeeks and weeks, and is one of the biggest selling contemporary classical pieces of all time.
The music is minimalist in style, approachable but also highly affecting, with an insistent pulse throughout which could suggest a human heartbeat. The only voice is that of a soprano, in the ENO production Nicole Chevalier, who in three meditative movements offers a triptych of motherhood – the first a lament of the Virgin Mary, the second a message written on the wall of a Gestapo prison cell, and the third a mother searching for her lost son. The production was presented in Polish with Englisha and Polish subtitles.
The work lends itself to a theatrical presentation and is rich in religious imagery, in particular the Pietà and figures at the base of the cross from the Crucifixion, both of which were referenced in the opening movement. A simple set with two apertures of light overhead created the sense of a cavernous stone tomb. At the back, a figure lay on a suspended slab while a woman dragged a cloth from a grave. Gathering it up in her arms, the cloth became at once a cradled child and a shroud. Throughout the performance, extraordinary lighting and video effects projected tears or waves, and the fuzzy images from an ante-natal ultrasound scan, which served to enhance and reinforce the message of the music and the words.
In the second scene, in a Gestapo prison cell, we see that the stone walls are in fact a series of closely-meshed ropes through which mysterious, masked figures emerge and depart. In the final scene, the tangled ropes suggests the mess and fog of war as the mother searches for her lost son. The resonances with the war in Ukraine were very obvious here and this made for a very moving episode in a work freighted with a visceral sense of poignancy and loss.
Nicole Chevalier’s translucent yet rich soprano brought power and tenderness to Gorecki’s long-spun lines, while conductor Lidiya Yankovskaya and the ENO orchestra gave an unsentimental but not less committed and absorbing reading of the score which appreciate the narrative arc of the individual movements and the work as a whole. The overall effect was compelling, deeply moving and yet ultimately uplifting: the closing moments of the final movement, the mother spreads her wings and ascends towards heaven, in an image redolent of the art of William Blake.
An ambitious, imaginative and haunting production from ENO, which demonstrates exactly why we must treasure and support this organisation.
Four full days of piano concerts and events in the beautiful and historic town of Ludlow in Shropshire
Celebrity impressionist, comedian and actor turned pianist Alistair McGowan has launched the Ludlow Piano Festival, which takes place between 24 and 28 May. This new music festival features a fabulous line-up of pianists: Lucy Parham, Charles Owen, Anne Lovett, Viv McLean, Paul Roberts, Anthony Hewitt, Benjamin Frith, Christina McMaster, Joanna McGregor and James Lisney, playing a mixture of pieces by Chopin, Gershwin, Grieg, Rachmaninov, Debussy, Mompou, Liszt, Scriabin, Satie, and Ravel (as well as original works), all with an emphasis on beauty and romance, as befits the lovely setting for this festival. In addition, comedian, musician and conductor, Rainer Hersch will be performing his hilarious and heart-warming tribute to his idol, Victor Borge. And on Saturday 26 May, remarkable blind pianist Rachel Starrit will give a late-night candlelit concert, performing new works by three young composers and her own improvisations.
As well as the concerts there will be opportunities for invited students and keen amateur pianists to participate in masterclasses with Paul Roberts and James Lisney, plus insights into dealing with live performance in a special event hosted by Radio 3’s Katie Derham.
I caught up with Alistair McGowan to ask him more about this Festival and the chosen setting for it
What was your motivation for organising the Ludlow Piano Festival?
We have two fabulous concert venues in the town each with a top-quality concert grand pianos. Having performed my own show (in which I cheekily play 15 short piano pieces by Debussy, Satie, Glass, Gershwin, Cyril Scott et al and intersperse them with light-hearted biographical information and a smattering of crowbarred impressions) to great acclaim at both venues, I thought it would be wonderful to get all the proper classical pianists I know and admire to play these excellent pianos too and within a few days of each other so that the town rings with the sound of the piano.
Why Ludlow?
Apart from the great pianos and venues, Ludlow is a beautiful town which I’m now very pleased to call home. Set amid the rolling, ‘blue-remembered’ Shropshire Hills, I thought it would be a perfect base for a festival of this sort where people could come from all over the country (indeed, all over the world) and sample the great food on offer, the history of the town with its stunning architecture, and enjoy the freshness of the English/almost Welsh countryside in between the many top-quality events.
What excites you about the performers and programmes at the Festival?
Every one of the soloists has thrilled me with their playing since I came (late in life!) to appreciate the piano repertoire. They are artists whose recordings have inspired me, soothed me, moved me and amazed me. I have seen nearly all of them live too and am just in awe of what they do. I’m delighted that they have agreed to largely play shorter pieces. I hope that will keep our audience on their toes and introduce them to a lot of new pieces and new composers (some modern, some young, and some local composers too!) rather than just the regular names.
What do you hope audiences will take from the Festival?
I hope they will, like me, be moved and inspired and want to hear more, learn more and play more. Also, knowing that we’d attract some very-skilled piano enthusiasts, I was keen to secure some street pianos and to have the three pub pianos in the town tuned and accessible so that visitors (and the resting soloists!) can play music so that anyone can hear it as they eat, drink and go about their daily business.
This promises to be a glorious celebration of the piano, in a beautiful location – a must-go Festival for all pianophiles and music lovers.
This site is free to access and ad-free, and takes many hours to research, write, and maintain. If you find joy and value in what I do, please consider making a donation to support the continuance of this site
To our benefit, there are usually several paths one can choose to arrive at the same end result. Doing so in the traditional way or manner, and the unconventional way. Whichever decision you make is incumbent on the most comfortable way for you in accomplishing something.
To me, I am always seeking the easiest and most convenient way to do something, however I would not perceive myself as lazy. I am just conservative and selective with how I spend my energy. The only thing I exercise to the brink of exhaustion on a daily basis is my brain and thought processes. I can usually just take a nap to recuperate when necessary.
When I had decided I wanted to learn the piano, I knew seeking out a professional teacher to personally instruct me was out of the question, financially and time-wise. My mentors and research consisted of pianists who posted helpful videos on YouTube for beginners and affordable piano books and exercises I could purchase from Amazon.
Due to my circumstances, these choices suited my situation best and I made the best with what I had at my disposal. If aspiring pianists have the funds to hire a personal instructor, I would highly encourage you to do so.
Many tactics I did not learn until much later would have been made aware to me had I had someone to overlook my practice sessions and provide instant feedback I could apply on my own time. Though I think I have gotten on fine enough considering the circumstances.
Like everything in this universe, there are pros and cons when we make these choices. When we choose one thing over the other, we are knowingly sacrificing what could have been had we chosen differently. Sometimes the fear of ¨what could have been¨ can cripple us so much that we just do not make a choice at all.
Some have the opportunity to experience both but I cannot say if that is the default when it comes to decision-making. Although, I can say that hard work can certainly aid with filling in the gaps where personal instruction could have been well-utilized.
Pros
Learning anything outside our immediate area of expertise is a struggle, to say the least. Fortunately the individuals who would consider themselves to be of a more independent nature could definitely benefit from the self-taught avenue.
Adhering to Your Own Schedule
Going solo means you do not have to refer to someone else for when a task should be completed. Finding ways to manoeuvre around each other´s, sometimes very busy, schedules can be time-consuming and hard to negotiate.
Also, life is still going on around us. Many of us have outside responsibilities that come first before giving precious time to what most would consider a hobby. Things like family, relationships, work, household duties, etc. are more than enough to keep the average citizen occupied for the majority of their week.
Of course we definitely need sleep as well, especially me. We are not machines that only need to be recharged when we are feeling fatigued at the end of a long, busy day. Being self-taught can eliminate some of these issues.
Typically, teachers expect you to have practiced a certain amount during the week and present that to them when you see them next. Sometimes, the pressure of performing and getting in the required time for a full practice session can be tiresome and anxiety-inducing.
While I immensely enjoyed taking a piano close as a Junior in high school, I hated the weekly tests the teacher would grade us on for the song he selected. I always performed so much worse during the exam than when I was practicing and it frustrated me to no end.
Also, my school did not have enough pianos for each student to have their own so our allotted time slot was much shorter time to accommodate our larger than average classrooms. Now that I practice in the comfort of my own home, I can take as much time as I need to make sure I fully understand a concept.
Working at Your Own Pace
Slow-learners and fast-learners are the bane of the other´s existence. We all have that one subject or skill we excel in and get mildly irritated when others are not. At least that was the case for me in the past. I was even more irritated when I did not understand something and everyone else did, leaving me behind while I struggled.
Some concepts take longer to comprehend than others so rushing them can exacerbate their feelings of inadequacy, leading them to eventually quitting.
On the contrary, moving too slowly can lead to boredom. It is hard for a professional and newbie to come to terms with their individual skill levels and find a way to move forward that satisfies both of their needs.
Working alone means you can work as fast or slow as you need. You can speed up when something comes easier to you or take additional time for more difficult roadblocks without feeling like you are infringing on someone else´s time while still moving forward.
Cons
On the other side, there are some hiccups one should take into consideration before taking the plunge. While there is a considerable amount of freedom that comes with being self-taught, there are also some factors one should think about. Determine whether or not these possible setbacks are something you are willing to take on during your progression.
Lack of Support
One thing that makes starting a new hobby so exciting is meeting new people who have the same passion as you. This can be said about starting a new sport, joining a club at school, or attending weekly community gatherings for a specific project.
What all of these activities have in common is a group of individuals that are physically present. You have others you can converse with as the two of you are working while establishing a relationship.
In the beginning stages, learning an instrument can be kind of isolating if you are teaching yourself. Having a teacher present can remind you that they are there to help and support you when you eventually hit a wall. We can sometimes lose motivation when we have no one holding us accountable.
Lack of Foundation
If you are anything like me, you tend to want to skip the ¨boring¨ stuff and tackle the more exciting lessons. The problem with this is you hit a plateau much quicker due to a lack of knowledge in basic strategies you should have focused on to begin with.
We all have songs in our heads we really want to learn so we convince ourselves, prematurely, that we can learn it at our current level only to receive a slap in the face when you realize you cannot even play both hands at the same time without being out of time.
It takes a responsible person to stave off instant gratification and spend time on the more mundane, but important, aspects that are the very foundation of what they can accomplish in the future.
Little to No Feedback
Unless you asked someone to watch over you who is well-versed in piano and the proper form, you do not have much immediate feedback so you would have to refer to second-hand resources for clarity.
Playing in front of someone can be extremely nerve-wrecking but it is worth it to learn in the early stages which behaviours need to be corrected so they do not turn into bad habits that are nearly impossible to break further down the line.
Don´t shoot yourself in the foot by relying on your intuition in unfamiliar territory. There are lots of resources and videos out there that will inform you on better ways to play arpeggios or the perfect posture to maintain when practicing.
In Conclusion
We are all different. Some thrive in solitude while others, in the company of others. I do not regret that I chose to be self-taught however I definitely believe I could have benefited greatly from having a stable authority present to help me when I struggled.
Ideally, I think the best situation would be to experience both. Have a teacher as a novice player then gradually become more independent as you improve. That is just my opinion, though.
Whatever decision you choose is ultimately up to you unless you have parents who insist on paying for your lessons. I hope whatever path you choose leads you to victory.
My mom used to tell a story about me. She said that she would lie in the bathtub at night and listen to me practice piano.
I find this story strange because I honestly have very, very few recollections of practicing. I know I played because I remember the irritation I would feel at competing with the blare of the TV, or my angry older brother yelling at me to stop making a racket. But then there was the idea of “practice”, which was a bit of a fuzzy concept for me. Was it playing things over and over again until I could play it perfectly? Or was it something else altogether? I didn’t really know and there was no one at home who understood it either.
I didn’t start piano until I was 9 years old. We didn’t own a piano and my parents only
experience with music lessons was my brother’s aborted attempts at trumpet, which
left them unenthusiastic about investing in lessons for me. The subject of piano only
came up because they received a call from my best friend’s mother. Mrs. Kim had
called to say that I seemed to spend a lot of time around her piano and she thought
they should have me start lessons. My father balked at the idea of purchasing a piano
for an 8-year-old so I was given a plastic recorder and signed up for recorder lessons. I played recorder for a year and when it became clear that I loved music, they figured
out a way to get a small spinet piano.
I adored my first piano teacher, Mr. Erikson. He was a tall, gangly, bearded man with a
raspy voice. He started me off and we worked together until I was nearly 16 years old.
Every week when my lesson rolled around I’d feel a flurry of emotions. Anticipation was usually the biggest one. Sometimes a bit of shame for not doing the music worksheets he would assign. And also for not “practicing”. I didn’t like to let him down and I knew that practicing was important. I just wasn’t sure how to do it. But I also didn’t want to ask him what it meant because it seemed like I should understand it already.
Something magical always happened in those lessons with Mr. Erikson. Our work
together would absorb me completely. The lesson would flash by as I immersed myself in each new intricacy of music-making and sound. I progressed steadily. I must of practiced, right? How do you progress without it? And yet why didn’t I understand
what it was?
My musical life stumbled after a tearful parting from Mr. Erikson when he moved to
California. Limited for competent piano teachers in my small town in Rhode Island I
had begun lessons with a music professor at the local university. That relationship was life-changing. My weekly lessons became agony. There was no flow or understanding during lessons. Just a series of orders of what I was supposed to do. I was unable to focus because I was so frightened of this teacher. My ability to immerse myself in the music and grow and learn evaporated. Each week became worse as I was berated over and over again with my musical (and perhaps personal) deficiencies.
By this point, I had been accepted into the university at age 16 to pursue a Bachelor of
Music. He was the teacher I needed to work with in order to get my degree. He was
annoyed with me for this early acceptance, which he had been against. He said I
wasn’t mature enough. He was also annoyed with me for being accepted into the
Young Artist Piano Program at Tanglewood over the summer before I started at
university. He had told me I would be wasting the time of the audition committee if I
applied and would never be accepted. I auditioned anyway and spent a month
studying with Robert Taub, surrounded by amazing young musicians who were far
better than I was. They practiced! I was starting to get the concept.
And I DO remember practicing for him. I practiced a lot! But I just couldn’t seem to
progress. I couldn’t connect with the music. And each time I sat down to practice,
determined to show him what I could accomplish, I would just become more
discouraged. I ran scales. I did technique exercises. I worked on the assigned music.
Joylessly and with trepidation, driven by a sense of his seemingly endless disapproval.
It all came to a head during a lesson when I was mucking up the Mozart Sonata he had
assigned. By this point every time I played for him my hands would shake, my eyes
would have trouble focusing and my brain would go blank. In a fit of irritation he told
me that I had no capacity for hard work and I was just someone who liked music but
would never be a musician. He then told me to play it again for him. I couldn’t because
I was crying so hard I couldn’t see the music. He sighed and said “This proves what
I’ve said. Go home.”
I was devastated. My teacher Mr. Erikson came back for a visit that fall. I played for him and he just stared when I finished. “What happened?” he said weakly. Not only could I not play fluidly or with any musicality, I had developed so much tension that I was losing the feeling in my arms and hands. All that practice had done significant damage.
Before he returned to California, Mr. Erikson helped me to make some changes. I
altered my program from a Bachelor of Music to a Bachelor of Arts in music because
that allowed me to drop piano lessons.He had a long consultation with a friend who
had a D.M.A. from Eastman School of Music and set me up with this new teacher. I
began commuting to Boston every Saturday for lessons. I had to relearn how to play
again. Gradually I began to heal. Gradually I started to play again (or was it practice?). I adored my lessons with my new teacher. The sense of ultra focus and immersion
during lessons returned and I made enough progress to be accepted into University of Texas at Austin’s music program where I earned a Master of Music in piano.
So how does this impact my own teaching and the advice I give to parents and
students about the importance of practice?
In my opinion, at every level students need help understanding what they’re trying to
achieve when they practice. That understanding needs to be age appropriate. And it all springs from the quality of the teacher/student engagement during lessons. Working together in a way that feels collaborative, exploratory and uncovers each student’s connection to the music sets students up for better success on their own. Lessons that include regular, honest, and non-judgmental conversations between a teacher and a student about what (if anything) the student achieved in the week. We all know lesson time is precious because there just isn’t enough of it. But it is time well spent for students. Learning to self-reflect. Learning how to engage with sound. Learning to recognize how technique is tied to the sound produced. Learning to immerse themselves in a process that, when it goes well, can make an incredible difference.
Many years ago, I heard a friend joke that “you don’t need to practice if you just play
every day.” And I realized I finally had my answer to how I had made my progress.
Jennifer Griffin Gaul is a US-based pianist and educator. She holds a Master of Music in piano pedagogy and performance from the University of Texas at Austin.
The Cross-Eyed Pianist is free to access and ad-free, and takes many hours every month to research, write, and maintain.
If you find joy and value in what I do, please consider making a donation to support the continuance of the site