By |

Pianist Matthew Schellhorn has launched a campaign to give young pianists access to proper practice facilities.

Those of who teach piano, and/or perform ourselves, appreciate the importance of a decent instrument on which to practice. Many music students cannot afford a high-quality instrument or lack easy access to such an instrument on which to practice, yet they are expected to perform on the best concert grand pianos. This is a particular issue for young musicians studying in London where practice facilities are limited and expensive.

With this initiative, Matthew hopes to make “a real difference to the artistic output of musicians, particularly young pianists at the start of their careers….I want to help by providing practice facilities to gifted students otherwise rehearsing on home uprights but expected to perform to the highest standards forthcoming exams, concerts and conservatoire entrance.”

The project aims to make a good-quality Steinway grand piano available to those in need. Matthew will further work with the National Youth Arts Trust, and will set up a home-based recital series raising money for musical charities.

For more information about the project and to make a donation, please visit Matthew’s GoFundMe site

By |

An interview with cellist Louise McMonagle to coincide with the release of her recording of Round by the Ness by Trish Clowes, to celebrate International Women’s Day 2022

Who or what inspired you to pursue a career in music and who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

My parents sent my sisters and I along to the local music centre on Saturday mornings – it was called Bannerman Music School at the time, now called East Glasgow Music School. I am certain they had no idea how this would shape the rest of my life! It was here that I had my first cello lesson aged 6 and was lucky to have a very special teacher. Pamela Duffy had studied at Guildhall in London before returning to Glasgow. She was a buzz of inspiration and impossibly exciting stories from the big smoke, and she made lessons incredibly fun! Without this early influence I’m sure it would never have crossed my mind that I could end up a cellist in London!

After that there are so many influences and inspirations we would be here all day. But I want to mention a couple that stand out. When I was 12 I joined the Music School of Douglas Academy, a state funded centre for excellence in Glasgow. I can’t speak highly enough of my education there, where every music teacher made a huge impact on me. In our first term I remember the composition teacher William Sweeney playing us Alban Berg Violin Concerto. I heard only a random confusion of notes and remember us 12 year olds sneaking glances at each other – what is this! A few years later we listened to the piece again in music history and I was so shocked to discover it now sounded beautiful and was a piece of music that made sense to me. I remember having a little moment where I saw how much I must have learned without realising it.

Another really warm memory of my formative musical years was my time in Glasgow Schools Symphony Orchestra, who met once a year for a summer residency at Castle Toward on the Argyll peninsula. It can’t be overstated how magical it was for a bunch of city kids to spend a week by the sea in a remote castle! The conductor of the orchestra was composer John Maxwell Geddes, an extraordinary man and an inspiration to a whole generation of musicians from Glasgow. We often played pieces that he wrote specially for us, his Castle Suite for example, which I instantly loved. I remember being fascinated by the way the time signature kept changing!

When I look back at these experiences, and then look at the path I have taken it hammers home to me how important working with young people is, and the impact it can have.

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

Finding an instrument! This is a huge issue for string players in particular. I moved to London when I was 18 to study at the Royal Academy of Music, and I couldn’t believe my luck when they loaned me their stunning Testore cello for a number of years. It was a gorgeous instrument with incredible depth of sound. I’d never had an old cello before and enjoyed imagining how the cello had probably played my repertoire countless times before me! The experience will stay with me forever. But of course eventually it had to be returned, and on my budget searching for a cello to follow it was an impossible task!

Which performances/recordings are you most proud of?

During the pandemic I took a very unexpected turn and decided to develop a YouTube channel. The idea came from my love for performing cello repertoire that steps outside the mainstream. Over the last 10 years I have worked on so many wonderful contemporary cello pieces directly with composers, but it struck me as sad that I had no record of most of these live performances. In lockdown I suddenly found myself with lots of time on my hands so I decided to challenge myself to start recording.

Live music has thankfully now returned, but I enjoyed my lockdown project so much that I’ve decided to continue on my mission. Today, on International Women’s Day, I have added a new piece written specially for me by composer and jazz saxophonist Trish Clowes. Although her background is jazz, Trish listens widely and her compositions have many influences. Trish has always held a particular fascination with a cello piece she heard me perform years ago, Heinz Holliger Chaconne from the Sacher Variations. It’s a piece that showcases many extended techniques and timbres that the cello can offer. Inspired by this, Trish decided to write Round By The Ness for me and I was intrigued to see how she took some of these techniques and translated them into her own musical language. You can watch the performance here:

Which particular works/composers do you think you perform best?

These days I’m most known for performing music by living composers, and playing in contemporary music group the Riot Ensemble.

I joined the group 5 years ago and have given around 200 world and UK premieres by composers from more than 30 countries in that time! I’ve learned so much through this experience – unique notation, extended techniques, prepared cello… I honestly think nothing could surprise me anymore! What I love about this genre of music is the huge contrast of styles and sounds I’m exposed to. And the beauty of it is, there is so much variety in the music of the last 50 years that I think you can find something to suit every taste.

What do you do off stage that provides inspiration on stage?

Listening to other performers is the most inspiring thing for me. Any genre, style instrument. Dancers, gymnasts, actors. Watching performers who communicate and who make you forget about everything else – that is the most inspiring thing to me.

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

When I’m listening to music a lot of the time I want to hear something new. Most of my repertoire choices come from listening journeys online where one discovery leads to another in an endless chain.

When I hear something new that I love, I’m instantly thinking where and when would be the perfect situation to programme it. I always loved making mixtapes back in the day, and I like to think of programming in the same way, handpicked for each audience.

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

I’ve played in some wonderful halls around the world – Bucharest, Berlin, Shanghai, a stage built off the side of a cliff in Italy, Alhambra in Granada, but my favourite performances tend to be in smaller intimate venues where you feel more connection to the audience. I enjoy playing in settings where people don’t normally hear cello, where you feel you can surprise them and maybe even make them think differently about classical music. I have worked a lot with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra who regularly tour the Scottish Highlands and Islands, and playing in those community halls have been some of my favourite performances.

What do you feel needs to be done to grow classical music’s audiences?

Music is for everyone. A lot of people tell me they don’t listen to classical music yet they experience it in films and tv and find that they love it! Some people feel classical music isn’t for them because they never had the chance to learn an instrument. The number one way to reach more people is to invest in music education, and tackle the notion that classical music is just for the privileged. Schemes like Big Noise in Scotland, and Every Child A Musician in Newham east London are visionary, where every child in a whole year group is given an instrument and regular lessons completely free. I wish every child in the country could have this experience as part of their school education.

Classical music can also be associated with a lot of pomp and circumstance – evening dresses, tailcoats and bow ties, knowing when to clap, grand buildings. This might be glamour and showbiz to some, but can seem old fashioned, too formal, or alienating to others. “Why does that violinist get to bow on their own?” someone once asked me after an orchestral concert. I think we forget that concerts are a string of traditions and rituals that can be baffling to the uninitiated. While I hope there will always be space for traditions and a bit of showbiz in our presentation, I think classical music also needs to exist outside of concert halls – in schools as I’ve said, but also in less formal spaces, and at different times of day. There is a thriving music series in London called Daylight Music.  Concerts take place on Saturday afternoons, and tea and cake is served. The curator lines up three sets with performers from different genres, and what draws the audience is the chance to experience something new, to hear styles of music they might not normally hear, all in a comfortable friendly setting. Time and time again this series has come up when I chat to people who have never attended a ‘classical concert’ but tell me they enjoyed watching an instrumentalist at one of these events. Their new season will be announced soon so do check it out!

Growing audiences is a big and complex topic, but certainly investing in music education, rethinking the formal concert paradigm, and more risk taking and imaginative curation have important roles to play.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

In January 2019 Riot Ensemble travelled to Reykjavik to play at Dark Music Days festival. The snow was deeper than my boots and daylight came only for a few hours in the middle of the day. We were giving the world premiere of a piece written for us by Austrian composer Georg Friedrich Haas called Solstices. It’s a 70 minute ensemble piece to be performed in pitch black darkness. We’ve played it in a few venues now and the challenge is always getting the hall dark enough… covering every crack and even emergency exit signs has not always been possible. But at this venue, the darkness was perfect and so intense that I could not see my own hand when I held it in front of my face! The ensemble had a central position in the hall and the audience were seated all around us. I think it’s true that we listen differently in the dark. The atmosphere was like no other concert I’ve ever experienced and I’m not sure anything could ever quite compare to my memory of it!

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

Having concerts that excite me. Playing with other musicians who inspire me. Reaching the end of a concert and feeling I did a good job, that I gave everything I had.

What advice would you give to young/aspiring musicians?

Listen listen listen to music and artists you love, admire and who inspire you! Practice! And know that it happens in small steps, so have the courage to put yourself forward for the summer school/audition/performance opportunity that you have been mulling over, and incrementally one thing will lead to another!

What’s the one thing in the music industry we’re not talking about which you think we should be?

Cuts to music and instrumental lessons in schools. Classical music won’t have a future if it is only for the privileged.

Scottish cellist in London, Louise McMonagle is a versatile performer who enjoys making music in many environments.

Highlights include winning the Ernst Von Siemens Ensemble prize (2020), performing at Wigmore Hall (London), playing as soloist in Boulez Messagesquisse at the VIVA Cello Festival (Switzerland), recording Berio Sequenza XIV with Four Ten Media, and performing with eminent jazz musicians such as Trish Clowes (BBC NGA), Kit Downes (Mercury prize nominee), Evan Parker etc.

Read more

By |

The great pianist Artur Schnabel famously spoke of his interest in music which was “better than it can be played”, in particular the works of Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert.

In this quote, I think Schnabel expresses why the sonatas of Beethoven, for example, represent “great” music which stands the test of time through its inventiveness, variety, complexity and expressive depth, but also that curious dilemma of being a musician: trying to decipher what the composer meant, what the composer heard in their head, drawing only on what is given on the page. The other paradox is that the honesty, intimacy and profundity of the music often sounds better in one’s inner ear, idealized and perfected in one’s imagination, than it does to the outer ear. Yet as Schnabel demonstrated through his many performances and recordings, an inspired performance can go further, deeper and higher than the inner ear, giving us a memorable glimpse of the thought, the philosophy or the breadth of emotion which lies behind and beyond the notes.

For me, it has always meant that achieving perfection in such works….and that’s one of the justifications for always being able to dig deeper into those works, and why we can keep on performing them forever and still discover new approaches to them. – Alfredo Ovalles, pianist

What Schnabel may also mean is that some pieces are simply very special, and can never be fully realised in performance, that the “perfect” version is not possible, even though some pieces truly deserve it. It is perhaps for this reason that certain repertoire holds a very significance place in the hearts and minds of pianists who are willing to continually rise to the myriad challenges that the music presents – Bach’s Goldberg Variations, Mozart’s piano sonatas, Schumann’s Kreisleriana, Chopin’s Etudes and the great concertos by, for example, Beethoven, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninov and Prokofiev.

Perhaps the greatest thing about this “great music” is that no matter what we do to it, it still retains its fascination. Later in his famous quote, Schnabel talks about only being interested in music that presents a “never-ending problem”. Think for a moment how many recordings there are of Beethoven’s Piano Sonatas. Numerous pianists, including Alfred Brendel, Maurizio Pollini, Annie Fischer, Andras Schiff, Richard Goode, Paul Lewis and, more recently, Igor Levit and Jonathan Biss, have released distinguished cycles, and some pianists have even recorded these works several times (Daniel Barenboim, for example), proving that this music remains endlessly captivating and intriguing.

“As a performer, I can’t take it seriously enough. I have to adopt a personal stance toward the musical texts and their creator, to find self-awareness on a higher level.” – Igor Levit

This then is the responsibility of those who choose to play music which is “better than it can be played”. That pianists like Levit, or Biss, Barenboim or Pollini can each bring their own interpretation and insight to this repertoire perhaps proves Busoni’s quote – “The task of the creative artist resides in setting up laws, not in following them.” – and confirms the ongoing greatness of this music.

By |

Long read guest post by Dr Michael Low (read Part 1 here)

My journey back to playing the piano started when I casually suggested to a new colleague that perhaps we should play some chamber music together. I honestly didn’t think that she would take me seriously, but the next day I found the scores of Schubert lieder and Puccini arias in my pigeon-hole. Although one part of me wanted to go back on my word, the other told me to just get on with learning the notes, and I was grateful for the latter. The most valuable lesson I learnt from working with a singer is the shaping and the breath of the musical phrase, no melodic line is rushed, and the sense of rhythmic pulse is often relative to the direction of the music. Following my brief appearance as a repetiteur, I founded a chamber ensemble amongst my colleagues to perform the chamber music versions of Mozart piano concertos and movie soundtracks.

My new musical project was not without obstacles, both logistically and musically. Because initially there were only six of us, the piano has to ‘fill in’ the missing parts – this meant that I had to play both the solo part as well as the orchestral tutti, a challenge that I relish (having studied my fair share of Romantic transcriptions, the orchestral reduction of the tutti passages were to be the least of my worries). However, nerves still presided over my performance, but the ensemble was generous in their support and patience. ‘It gets better with every rehearsal’, was one member’s assessment of my playing. Another told me that it is just a matter of ‘practising performance’, and I will never forget the words of our leader (sadly no longer with us) when I felt that I could have played better after one particular rehearsal. ‘That’s why we are here to practise’, he smiled at me. Away from the music and the piano, I met Laverne, who was to become my wife in the not-too-distant future.

I was no longer the rhythmically wayward student, yet something was still not clicking. Physical tension still existed which translated into uneven semiquaver passages. I found myself with a sense of musical déjà vu, but told myself that I was no longer that hot-headed student: ‘Everything is difficult at the beginning, but once you have worked it out, then it is easier.’ I also reminded myself that my repertoire was predominantly 19th-century, and Mozart still a composer I had yet to study in detail. I turned to my doctoral supervisor, Hendrik Hofmeyr, for advice. Hendrik told me that in order to eliminate the tightness in my playing, I would have to adopt a different mindset. He showed me a way of playing the piano which utilises the bigger muscles of the body, especially the weight of the arm.

https://youtu.be/7HzzoLTZJCY

I eventually understood what Hendrik was after but only after weeks and months of frustration and tears: every time I felt strain and pressure during practise, I would stop and retrace my steps, and play even slower. The primary objective was now to find a position of the hand (and body) that enabled me to play with the greatest ease whilst freeing myself of any physical tightness. The biggest breakthrough came when I adjusted the way I sit at the piano, but it was to be at least another two and half years before I could feel the difference in my playing.

For over two years I studied Mozart piano concerti and very little else. More importantly, I relearnt the significance of one particular musical gesture that makes up so much Classical and Romantic music – the Mozartian slur, sometimes known as the classical slur; this completely changed the way I view and interpret music especially when I revisited old repertoire. The Mozart concerti were followed by Beethoven’s first and last piano concerti. I then studied Schumann’s Opus 54, which is more akin to an augmented piano quintet, and what a glorious one it is! The Schumann Concerto was followed by Rachmaninoff’s second and third piano concertos, as I finally got comfortable with my new way of playing the piano.

As patient as the ensemble were, they were beginning to wonder if there would at least be some performances at the end of all the rehearsals. Although I was tentative, a concert was eventually scheduled and we made our debut in front of an audience of about two hundred people. The performance was well received but old musical wounds resurfaced. Yet again I walked off stage haunted by musical discrepancies despite the standing ovations and calls for an encore. I recalled the words of a former professor, ‘Something very intense inside you is preventing you from playing the intensity of the music’. Laverne encouraged me to keep going and play further performances, but I was reluctant, and a heated argument ensued. I told her my belief of how some were chosen whereas other chose to perform and faced a backlash, ‘This is such b***sh**t! The people who get it right on stage are those who get up there and do it over and over again until they are comfortable. As talented as you are, you are not going to play the “Emperor” Concerto brilliantly on your first attempt!’ Furthermore, Laverne also assured me that it is the audience’s perception of my performance that is ultimately more important than my own: ‘You have the ability to connect to the audience through your playing, surely this is more important than the odd wrong notes and occasional memory lapse?’

Laverne’s insightful words were of great comfort to me, and it was on her recommendation that I began to address my musical wounds in the formal setting of psychotherapy. ‘I think it will help you to reconnect the dots and explained why certain things happened the way they did,’ she told me before my first session with my psychologist. Ultimately, Laverne was right. It was not Christianity or God, nor was it table tennis, golf or CrossFit, but the work that I did with my psychotheraphist that provided me with the most conclusive explanation to my performance anxiety and stage fright.

I agree with Zach Manzi that there is plenty to dislike about the Classical music industry – an industry resistant to change, safeguarded by numerous holier-than-thou gatekeepers who have placed themselves on a musical pedestal. I like Manzi’s idea of making Classical music more ‘accessible and inspiring,’ and I certainly would like to find out more about his ‘audience first’ concert format design. However, it is my humble opinion that audiences around the world don’t attend live concerts just to hear Bach, Beethoven or Wagner anymore. This has partly to do with the fact that there is no definitive way of interpreting a piece of music. What the Classical music industry has been promoting since time immemorial is the cult of the personality. People now go to concerts to hear the performer rather than the composer: Schiff’s Bach, Barenboim’s Beethoven, Trifonov’s Rachmaninoff, Thielemann’s Wagner, etc. And this is perhaps the main reason why concert agents and managements are more likely to look for a ‘performer’ than a musician when filling their concert diaries. In other words, if we don’t think you can sell tickets, then why the hell should we book you? Performers are more sought after than musicians, as the commercial value of the former trumps that of the latter.

Please don’t get me wrong. I am not, for one second, suggesting that some of the great performers are not great musicians first and foremost, but if you look at the artists signed by major recording and distributing companies in the last decade or so, you will find that many of them fit a certain marketable profile in terms of looks, dress code, and perhaps the most importantly, being able to say the right thing at the right time, especially in front of the cameras.

There is one side of me who believes that the route currently taken by the Classical music industry is inevitable, as it has to adapt and keep up with increased commercialism, and Classical music has never been the art form for the masses. At the same time, I find it problematic that some of those who hold the industry’s most prominent positions are not often the best people. It is an industry that still favours nepotism and the ‘old-boys’ network’ (if I may use such a term), which means that it is often a case of who you know, or rather whose ego you are willing to stroke (and, by the same token, how successful you are at negotiating politics), that gets you places. I also don’t think that it is right when so much power is placed in the hands of those in authority, especially teachers: the one person who can make a student feel completely sh*t about him/herself is the only person who can also galvanise the student. There is something fundamentally unhealthy about this, and when it is coupled with the abuse of power and trust (which has been shown in amongst numerous high-profile musical cases in recent times), it only makes the Classical music industry even less desirable. Hence it is not difficult to see why the more sensitive artists are less inclined to trade their souls, knowing full well that Mephistopheles doesn’t deal in refunds.

Despite its unpleasantness and Weinstein-esque overtones, I have never regretted my decision to pursue a career in Classical music. I knew that the cards were stacked against me, yet I was determined to make something of it. When I swallowed the red pill and saw the industry for what it is, I realised that I have one of two choices: b*tch and cry that life is unfair or find another way forward, and I am glad that I did the latter. To borrow Laverne’s phrase, ‘Once you have decided what the system is, then you can choose how far removed or how far involved you want to be.’

I am eternally indebted to all my professors, especially Graham and Hendrik, but my greatest teacher has been life itself. It has taught me that there is no such thing as a timeline or timeframe in my quest for artistic truth. If you are not an international prize-winner by the time you are in your late twenties it doesn’t necessarily mean that you haven’t ‘made it.’ By the same token, if ‘it’ doesn’t happen for you now (whatever ‘it’ may be) ‘it’ might still happen: when the future is uncertain, anything is possible. You might not necessarily end up where you envisaged, but it is exactly the place you need to be in the present moment. Ultimately, the one person truly responsible for your own musical ambition is you yourself: don’t sit around waiting for the phone to ring, go out and make things happen. Be bold, promote yourself, build communities, surround yourself with like-minded colleagues, and embrace your musical flaws and technical limitations as an artist. Allow yourself the license to play wrong notes and have the odd memory lapse, and try not to crucify yourself after every performance, as there will always be people who will do that for you. Music is a reflection of life, and life itself is far from perfect.

When Laverne and I visited the heritage part of Penang in 2018, we were humbled by way of lives of the street food vendors, who spent their life perfecting one local dish with the recipe handed down from past generations. There is something very humbling about knowing your place in your community and doing your best to be part of that. We often underestimate our own work, but someone else may deem our contribution invaluable. I know of many excellent musicians and performers who are not part of the world’s ‘famed’ orchestras, nor do they regularly perform at venues such as the Carnegie Hall or London’s Royal Festival Hall, but this doesn’t mean their performances are any less committed or engaging. At the end of the day, I think it is the beauty of music as well as the desire to keep on learning that keeps all musicians going.

I leave you with a conversation that took place between a former student and myself.

Student: ‘Dr Low, I am going to stop piano lessons now, is that OK?’

Me: ‘Sure, I have never believe in making someone do something they don’t want to, but at least tell me the real reason behind you wanting to stop.’

Student: ‘Well Sir… I will never be rich and famous if I play the piano, right?’

Me: ‘(The student’s name), the joy is in the playing.’

Student: (Blank stare)

Michael Low, January 2022

As a teenager, Michael Low studied piano under the guidance of Richard Frostick before enrolling in London’s prestigious Centre for Young Musicians, where he studied composition with the English composer Julian Grant, and piano with the internationally acclaimed pedagogue Graham Fitch. During his studies at Surrey University in England, Michael made his debut playing Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto in the 1999 Guildford International Music Festival, before graduating with Honours under the tutelage of Clive Williamson. In 2000, Michael obtained his Masters in Music (also from Surrey University), specialising in music criticism, studio production and solo performance under Nils Franke.

An international scholarship brought Michael to the University of Cape Town, where he resumed his studies with Graham Fitch. During this time, Michael was invited to perform Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto for The Penang Governer’s Birthday Celebration Gala Concert. In 2009, Michael obtained his Doctorate in Music from the University of Cape Town under the supervision of South Africa greatest living composer, Hendrik Hofmeyr. His thesis set out to explore the Influence of Romanticism on the Evolution of Liszt’s Transcendental Etudes.

In 2013, Michael started a project in Singapore collaborating with The Kawai School Elite in a series of masterclasses and workshops for teachers and students. Having grown up in the East and lived his life in the West, Michael believes that both cultures has much to offer and envisage an exchange between Singapore and Cape Town in the future.

Michael is also the co-founder of the Elvira Ensemble – a Classical Chamber Orchestra specialising in the Piano Concertos of Mozart and Beethoven as well as Soundtracks from Blockbuster Hollywood Movies. The Ensemble have given performances at several high-profile events such as the wedding of Justin Snaith, South Africa’s leading race-horse trainer. In January 2020, the ensemble was engaged to perform at the wedding of the former Miss Universe and Miss South Africa, Miss Demi-Leigh Nel Peters.

Michael has also worked with numerous eminent teachers and pianists, including Nina Svetlanova, Niel Immelman, Frank Heneghan, James Gibb, Phillip Fowke, Renna Kellaway, Carolina Oltsmann, Florian Uhlig, Gordon Fergus Thompson, Francois du Toit and Helena van Heerden.

Michael currently holds teaching positions in two of Cape Town’s exclusive education centres: Western Province Preparatory School and Herschel School for Girls. He is very much sought after as a passionate educator of young children.

Michael has also served as a jury member in the 2nd WPTA Singapore International Piano Competition in 2020. He has been engaged for a series of talks and masterclasses with the WPTA Indonesia in September of 2021.

Michael Low’s website