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An interview with celebrated baritone Benjamin Appl ahead of his appearance at this year’s Leeds Lieder Festival

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?

I started to sing when I was pretty young. Although no one in my family had trained as a professional musician, we sang a lot together while my mother accompanied us on the guitar. Aged ten I followed my two brothers and joined one of the most renowned boys choirs, called the Regensburger Domspatzen (which means the ‘cathedral sparrows of Regensburg’). Originally I wasn’t so fond of boys singing together – I disliked the sound and thought it sounded shrill – but after being part of this choir community and experiencing that amazing feeling of making music together on such a high level, I then really loved it. I think this was the moment when this addiction was first planted inside me, the feeling that life without music would not be the same.

Then, as a professional musician, of course it was my teacher and mentor Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau. To have had the privilege of working with him is one of the highlights of my career to date. He was a real mentor in many ways and taught me so much, not just vocal technique or interpretation but much more beyond this: he taught me the essence of being a musician, and the responsibilities with which that comes.

I was deeply impressed by his level of preparation, and the seriousness with which he achieved such a deep level of understanding of the music. Every time I went to his home he had prepared himself for our session, looking through the scores again, reading about the poetry and the background of the songs – doing all this even though he had already spent a lifetime on it. But this is also one of the most wonderful aspects of this profession: you never can be too well prepared.

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

I think what’s important is to find a personal connection with the music and how to present it and how to communicate it to people. If you’re yourself and you try to find a good emotional connection and how to communicate it, then it can be fairly easy. Generally, though it’s quite a difficult job in that as a singer, you carry your instrument with you 24 hours a day! We can’t, like a pianist for example, leave the instrument at home for two hours in the evening and go to the pub. That’s also something else we have to live with regarding our instrument – we have to accept when it’s not working and to be kind to it. That does mean that it can be difficult not to become too self-centered and think only about ourselves. That is something very challenging and we have to find ways to cope with it.

Of which performances/recordings are you most proud?

Actually, it will be one of my forthcoming album releases, a project I have been involved with for quite some years now. Together with one of the greatest contemporary, living composers György Kurtág, I am recording some of his compositions as well as songs by Franz Schubert, where he, aged 97, plays the piano. The working process with him is incredibly detailed and challenging, but the rewards are at a level you normally never experience anywhere else.

Which particular composer do you think that you perform best?

I probably would say Franz Schubert. With him and his music I feel most at home, not only because I spent the most time with his music and learned around 400 of his songs by heart. There is something in his music which gets right into my heart – how he creates an environment, a beautifully carpeted pathway, for the poetry to speak directly to the listeners. There is no extraneous material or conceit; the musical textures ar. He is a composer who somehow stands with both feet on the ground. His music feels somehow deeply rooted inside me and I resonate with his sentiments in his music – and therefore I think I can transfer this connection the best also to the audience.

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

Finding inspiration is a key element of our profession. We give so much on stage and every evening try to give what we can that we actually have make sure that we fulfil own our inner inspirations – to go to museums, to casually observe life passing by in the underground in how people move around and suddenly think “This is a character in this song.” I enjoy wonderful times with other inspiring people, listening to their stories, being curious, having every pore of your body open so as to find inspiration again a new way of interpreting songs. Also always questions about why we do it this way, why this tempo, why do we take time here, why is this word important for us etc so that we actually create and never just deliver.

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

It really depends on the different kinds of inspiration I get from outside or from within myself. Often reflecting on processes lcan ead to a different direction which you didn’t plan on and then of course the choices also depend on the interesting offers which are given to you.

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

Of course there are certain parameters which are important in a venue. Mostly it’s about the acoustic, so that you as a singer have the feeling that the space is giving you something back, and enhancing the reverberation of your own voice. But just as important is an ambience which makes you feel welcomed and comfortable when you enter. A good piano for my accompanist doesn’t hurt either!

But what would even an ideal venue be without an open and attentive audience? Especially for song recitals which are in many ways presented as a dialogue: even though one party is usually silent, it is an exchange of emotions and very much a shared experience. So the ideal really is to have a wonderful audience who is willing to be taken by the hand to go on a journey together.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

There are a few. Of course someone now would expect me to name performances in the biggest, most prestigious halls around the globe. But for me very often these ‘stellar moments’ happen under different circumstances: music is a comfort for me in moments of solitude or sorrow, and exaggerates my happiness in joyful moments. Performances which stay with me forever are very often linked with big moments which happened in my private life at the same time, like the loss of my grandparents, when I had to go out on stage and sing songs about facing death or mourning the loss of beloved ones; but also when I fell so deeply and freshly in love.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

Often I hear people say that art song is dead or that we cannot connect anymore to all those old texts and music. And I think exactly the opposite. All these songs are about emotions and feelings we carry very deeply in us, essentials like falling in love, being disappointed, loss of a beloved person or solitude – strong feelings we all can connect with and have experienced. I think within this art form there lie many opportunities and I am constantly searching for ways of combining it with other art forms or putting it in a current context. As a performer I experience very strongly that these songs make me understand myself and others better: My definition of success is when the same happens to my audience, that people connect with each other, go together on a journey and start a process of reflecting.

What advice would you give to young/aspiring musicians?

Find the right balance in life of the amount of performances, travel, working hours and try to have an interest or hobby outside music, which gives you the opportunity to put music aside for a moment and find pleasure and happiness somewhere else as well. It will only enrich your musicianship in the end.

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

The field of Art Song is a bubble within the classical music world, which is a bubble in itself. So, I am very much aware that we will never have huge audiences or huge crowds and millions of people listening to us, but that is also fine to accept. I think that generally, elderly people who have more time in their lives, who don’t have to worry about small kids, or making a lot of money in their jobs, or having to learn a lot in schools etc have the luxury of time. And when you do some recitals, you have to focus fully on the music and the text. It’s not something which you can listen to on playlists or during to a fancy dinner. It really requires one’s full attention. And that’s challenging in the 21st century when everything’s very hectic and people have a short attention span. So that’s a reason why I think particularly people listening to song cycles are very often are in the second half of their lives.

I’m trying with my own programmes to go into schools and bring this Art Song to schoolchilren to try and make them curious about this music. It’s very important to plant the love I feel for this music into the hearts and ears of these young people so that at least they have the chance to encounter it at a young age and to see that other people are passionate about it.

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

I think it’s wonderful that there are so many young people interested in studying singing or classical music. In colleges there are so many applications, like never before, so that’s something very positive. I find the lack of interest in politics and about people in the arts quite worrying. There are so many studies around the world which show the impact of music on human brains, on children such as how it makes them better human beings with better social skills, but also they learn other subjects faster, like languages etc. There is only good in it and I find it strange that no politicians really see the huge impact of music and how important it is. We have to plant music and art into the brains and hearts of young people. And even if they don’t like it in the beginning, I think it’s important that they have the chance to encounter it so that when they get older and listen to classical music they feel familiar with it. If they don’t get the chance from the very beginning it’s very hard later on to really understand this world which is so important in shaping for everyone. That’s something I feel very passionate about.

What’s next? Where would you like to be in 10 years?

There are so many ideas and interesting places to perform. I would love to perform song recitals for example like Schubert’s ‘Winter Journey’ in the Arctic. Pushing boundaries with other art forms, and strong collaborations. I have so many ideas in my mind that it’s sometimes overwhelming! I definitely have to write them all down, firstly not to forget them, but also to focus my mind on one idea. I have so many ideas all the time and would love to go in different directions, work with different people and never loose the joy and filfillment in performing. Just probing the horizon, being curious, not thinking in boxes but outside my box, and appreciating other people and their work and their love.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Despite the stress and demand of my life as a professional singer I always try to remember that it is a huge privilege to live this life. Sometimes I ask myself the question if there is anybody in this world with whom I would like to swap lives and I can always truly say that I am most happy and there is no one with whom I want to exchange life – as long as I can say that, I am very happy with this accomplishment.

What is your most treasured possession?

Due to my profession, I feel like I spend a huge amount of my time researching and booking transport and then travelling from one concert hall to the next. In work circumstances, I often have to prioritise speed as time can be tight and pressure is high. As an antidote to that, a few years ago I bought an old Volkswagen Beetle: a beautiful red convertible from 1974 which I love to drive around the beautiful Bavarian landscapes with their with mountains, lakes and castles. Driving my little car relieves all the stress I typically experience whilst travelling and it calms me in a wonderful way. Also when the roof is open, I get the feeling that I can appreciate the surrounding nature so much more.

What is your present state of mind?

I often ask myself how does doing the kind of work I am doing in the arts change me as a person and as a creator. In this process of reflection, we have to be open, we have to find inspiration and that’s something, of course, that has a huge influence on ourselves as musicians. As singers, if we change our daily routine, we have to be careful with our voice, we can’t have the wildest life before performances, and so on. And the curiosity we have as an artist influences us very much.

The way of reflecting about ourselves, that we try to become better and better, is also something which changes us. I think of course, the art and the voice are so dominant in our lives as singers and really leading our lives, that we have to follow the music and the voice as a person within our life.

Benjamin Appl appears at this year’s Leeds Lieder Festival which runs from 13 to 21 April 2024. Full details/tickets here

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A nerd is a person seen as overly intellectual, obsessive, [or] introverted…. Such a person may spend inordinate amounts of time on unpopular, little known, or non-mainstream activities, which are generally either highly technical, [or] abstract….to the exclusion of more mainstream activities – Wikipedia definition

The world of classical music is full of nerdy people, especially amongst its audiences. These people are also called fans, enthusiasts, geeks, obsessives or weirdos, depending on your particular point of view; most niche activities attract their own set of nerds – from cycling (I live with one) to computing, knitting to classical music.

There is nothing wrong in being a classical music nerd, and indeed being one may have some distinct advantages:

1. Enhanced listening skills. Being a classical music nerd means that you listen to music more actively and attentively. You are more likely to notice the nuances and subtleties of the music, including the dynamics, phrasing, and timbre. This can help to enhance your overall listening skills and make you a more discerning listener.

2. Increased cultural knowledge: Classical music is a rich and diverse art form with a long and fascinating history. As a classical music nerd, you will gain a deeper understanding and appreciation of the music, as well as the cultural and historical contexts in which it was created. This can help to broaden your knowledge and understanding of the world around you.

3. Improved cognitive function: Studies have shown that listening to classical music can improve cognitive function and enhance brain activity. As a classical music nerd, you are more likely to engage with the music in a way that stimulates your brain and improves your cognitive function.

4. Greater emotional intelligence: Classical music is renowned for its ability to evoke strong emotions in listeners. By immersing yourself in classical music, you can gain a greater understanding of the emotional content of music, which can help to improve your emotional intelligence and empathy.

5. Community and social connections: Being a classical music nerd can also provide you with a sense of community and social connections. Attending concerts, joining music groups or societies, and engaging in discussions with other classical music enthusiasts can help you to connect with like-minded individuals and develop new friendships and social networks.

Classical music nerdery also helps to debunk the notion that classical music is elite and shameful and exclusive to the select, highbrow few. Most classical music nerds are ordinary people who simply have a real passion and enthusiasm. Concert venues and promoters should actively support and encourage these people are they are the ones who are often the most regular and ardent concert-goers, who book a whole swathe of Prom concerts as soon as the new season is announcement, and support their favourite artists by attending concerts, not just in their home country but abroad too. While some classical music nerds may be regarded as “sticky fans”, there is no doubting their commitment – an addition to regularly attending concerts, these people also help spread the word by sharing their enthusiasm with others.

So if you’re a classical music nerd (as I am – and have been since my teens), don’t be shy. Embrace your nerdery and share it with others: you’re doing classical music a huge favour!

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Meaning in music is elusive — in fact, there are those who have said that music has no meaning

Alan Gilbert, conductor

Must we always find “meaning” in music? Why can’t our listening experience simply be one of absorbing the sounds which enter our ears without constantly questioning what those sounds might “mean”?

But of course we find meaning in music: it triggers an intuitive, visceral reaction in every one of us, a palpable emotional response, regardless of the genre of the music, and that alone demonstrates that it has meaning. Exactly what that ‘meaning’ is is personal and subjective, and it is this emotional subjectivity in the listening experience that leads me to feel tearfully moved by the slow movement of a piano sonata by Schubert, for example, while others may not feel the same.

This emotional, subjective reaction to music, which we all experience (even those people who say they “don’t know anything about classical music” but can explain how ‘The Lark Ascending’ makes them feel) suggests that the music itself has no meaning, that we invest our personal meaning in the music depending on context. This notion was examined by the composer and scientist Dr David Cope in his explorations of music composed by artificial intelligence: “The feelings that we get from listening to music are something we produce, it’s not there in the notes. It comes from emotional insight in each of us, the music is just the trigger” (interview in The Guardian, 2010). For many of us, classical music in particular is associated with beautiful sadness, deep joy, dramatic battles (between themes or characters), excitement, celebration, reflection, melancholy, tenderness, affection….. The experience of music can be very cathartic for listeners, invoking tears or laughter, with or without reason for the release.

I slightly take issue with Dr Cope’s assertion that feeling is “not there in the notes”, for composers deliberately use various devices in the written score – tempo, dynamics, articulation, harmony, silence – to convey meaning (emotion), and as sentient human beings, just like us, composers experience the full gamut of human emotion which they seek to portray in their music. Performers transmit this meaning through their own response to the score which is based not only on their musical knowledge and expertise, but also their personal emotional response and life experience. And they would not choose to play the music if it did not have some kind of meaning for them. The listener then completes the circle by bringing their own personal emotional reaction to the music.

music is very powerful. It is very difficult to remain unmoved by music

Daniel Barenboim

Responses to music and interpretations of its ‘meaning’ may also be determined by extrinsic factors, such as the reputation of the composer and/or performer/s (classical music being rather too obsessed with greatness in this regard) or the urban legend or infamy surrounding a certain work (for example, Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata). It’s curious too how highly virtuosic music often has a greater cultural meaning for audiences and critics than simpler music (is it that the difficulty of the music makes it “better”?), yet many performers would agree that playing Mozart or the very spare music of a composer like Arvo Pärt is actually more challenging. Programme and liner notes also play a part in influencing how music is heard and understood; if the programme notes suggest that the Andantino of Schubert’s penultimate piano sonata is an expression of anguish because he was dying of syphilis, some people will inevitably hear that anguish in the harsh modulation, frenzied demisemiquavers and dark chromaticism. And then there are associations which come from other media where certain pieces used in film soundtracks, for example, when heard in concert immediately conjure up emotional responses associated with seeing that film; Also Sprach Zarathustra, a tone poem by Richard Strauss, is for many of us synonymous with space travel after it was used in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Thus we find meaning through the association of certain pieces of music with personal experiences.

In terms of its construction, every element of music can trigger a response from the listener: a jaunty rhythm or fast tempo may set feet tapping and raise the heartbeat, thus increasing a sense of excitement and energy (think of the opening of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries). A beautiful melody may elicit a sense of serenity, hushed pianissimo sections tenderness or intimacy, a particular interval or suspended harmony poignancy or yearning

The wonderful thing about music is that it offers the listener an experience of value which can be translated however she/he chooses. So while religious or politcally-motivated works of music, for example, may have a specific meaning for the composer in the context of the time when they were written (works by Messiaen or Shostakovich, for instance), each listener will take their own experience – and meaning – from that music. The great power of music, regardless of its genre, is that its meaning is ineffable – “where words fail music speaks” (Hans Christian Andersen) – and for many of us music perfectly expresses that which cannot be adequately expressed in words….

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We all knew the Proms would be different in this, the year of coronavirus (or The Virus, COVID-19, the Rona….). Rather than cancel the entire festival, the BBC came up with a compromise – a truncated festival which involved, in the first weeks, broadcasts of previous Proms, not necessarily a “best of the Proms”, but rather a selection of memorable or particularly striking performances and performers. I enjoyed these broadcasts, revisiting Proms of years past and recalling the excitement and pleasure of attending Prom concerts, which I have done since I was a little girl – that special atmosphere in the Royal Albert Hall which is like no other (for all the right, and wrong, reasons!).

For the last fortnight of this year’s season, the BBC broadcast live Proms from the Royal Albert Hall and a handful of other venues around the country. These included performances by the LSO with Simon Rattle, the Aurora Orchestra playing Beethoven 7 from memory (why?!), Benjamin Grosvenor and Mitsuko Uchida, violinist Nicola Benedetti, and Sheku and Isata Kanneh-Mason. Some performers originally booked to appear were not able to travel to London due to the UK government’s confused, scattergun quarantine rules, so others valiantly stepped in at the last minute. The programmes often reflected our strange times – music of quiet intimacy (Kurtag’s … quasi una fantasia …, performed with incredible delicacy by Mitsuko Uchida, following an equally compelling and introspective first movement of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ sonata), hope (Vaughan Williams’ 5th Symphony, first heard at the Proms in the midst of the Second World War), reflection and memorial (Ravel’s Tombeau de Couperin), confidence (the rollicking joy of the finale of Beethoven’s 7th Symphony gave a much-needed boost to those of us who feel utterly ground down by the long months of lockdown and restrictions on daily life – including concert-going). The Last Night of the Proms, this year the subject of even more pearl-clutching and eye-pulling than usual, ended up as a compromise; bereft of its usual jollity and silliness (at least in the second half), it felt restrained and subdued, as if too much exuberance and celebration, balloons and whistles, flag-waving and a good old massed sing-along were inappropriate in these corona times.

There is no question that in all the live concerts the music was performed with absolute commitment. Watching the musicians (and thanks to lots of clever camera work, it was possible to read the range of emotions experienced by the musicians as they played), one sensed a collective sigh of relief, that they were working again, doing what they do best, united after long months of separation.

But something was missing. A very big something – and that was an audience. The Proms aren’t really the Proms without an audience, some 5000 people filling the Albert Hall’s vast auditorium with an infectious enthusiasm for the amazing shared experience that is live music. Admittedly, the BBC and Proms organisers tried their best this year to inject some “atmosphere” into the concerts by placing members of the brass section or singers in the boxes around the hall, enhanced by sexy lighting effects and clever camera angles. But for me all this did was to highlight the sad fact that there was no audience presence. It looked contrived, artificial – and perhaps the worst thing, in my humble opinion, was that it seemed to reinforce the notion that classical music is a ‘museum piece’, to be admired, revered even, from afar, instead of a living, breathing, vibrant artform.

The Albert Hall is vast; it would not have been impossible to bring in a limited, socially-distanced audience, but the organisers’ timidity regarding this reflects, to me, a general timidity amongst bigger organisations and institutions towards the resumption of live performance. It is possible to present live concerts within the current government restrictions – and the Proms could have led the way in this, signalling that live music, with an audience, is far from dead.

Let us hope that the 2021 Proms festival is able to go ahead in its “normal” format, with a full Albert Hall, a roster of fine musicians and a varied programme of great music.

All the performances are available to listen to/watch via the BBC Proms website

(Header image: BBC)