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Guest post by Michael Johnson

Illustration by Michael Johnson

A noticeable stir arose in piano circles around Bordeaux recently when Maria Joao Pires scheduled a rare recital in the city’s Auditorium concert hall. One of the greatest living pianists of our time, she has become increasingly absent from the concert stage in the past few years. Her commitment to interests outside of the music world has taken over much of her time and interest.

In Bordeaux she played a modest programme of Mozart sonatas and two Debussy pieces. For 90 minutes without intermission, she displayed her famous keyboard touch, her blinding virtuosity and her respect for the score. Gracious bows between numbers showed her appreciation for the audience which, she said, came for the music, not the show.

As she said in our interview (below), “It’s not about me, you know.” She believes we have “more values to protect – nature and art, life itself “.

We met backstage at the Auditorium on a sunny June afternoon. She was relaxed in conversation, with an easy smile and a refreshing frankness about the piano world and about the effects of ageing.

A highlight of her teaching avocation was her U.S. production of her Partitura Workshop at Northwestern University in Chicago and at the Gilmore Festival in Kalamazoo, Michigan, last year.

Gilmore director Pierre van der Westhuizen recalled for me the impact she made in Kalamazoo. “Ms Pires took us back to the way music should be instructed,” he said. “These pianists almost became as apprentices. (The six participants) spent the whole day together, learning together, socializing together. Ms Pires asked as many questions of them as they of her.”

Ms. Pires also recalled the warmth and enthusiasm she encountered in Chicago and Kalamazoo.

In our interview, she spoke about life at 80. Her playing is hampered, she said, by a case of dystonia but she is not ready to retire. In the Autumn she heads for Asia, playing in Japan, Taiwan and South Korea. She will skip China because she has been blacklisted there for playing at a conference that the Dalai Lama attended.

She explained her restricted repertoire by showing me her small hands. She placed her palm against my “piano hands”, which easily engulfed hers. She avoids composers such as the big Russians, Rachmaninov and Prokofiev, whose demands on the pianist stretch well beyond the reach of an octave.

In our wide-ranging discussion, she said she still needs to practice, sometimes for one hour a day, sometimes for five hours. “What shrinks is not only your skills, it’s your repertoire. That’s life,” she said.

Here is an edited transcript of our interview.

MJ: At your recent recital in Bordeaux, the audience went wild. You got a standing ovation over your very fine Mozart and Debussy programme.

MJP: It’s not about me, you know. The real ovation should be about the dialogue with the music. We don’t need the ovation because we have more values to protect — nature and art, life itself.

You have just turned 80. Your fans have been expecting you to retire for some time. What does your agenda say?

No, I am not ready to retire. I have a couple of concerts coming soon, then I need a vacation, then in the fall I go to the Far East, to Taiwan, Korea, Japan.

What? Not China, site of the world’s biggest piano craze?

I have played a lot in Japan over my career but I don’t play in China any more because they won’t grant me a visa.

Did they give you a reason?

Yes, at a conference a few years ago l played for the Dalai Lama. To the Chinese leaders, that’s a no-no! But I still have many private students in China working with me online.

In Asia there are large numbers of serious piano students – too many for their local needs. Some of them will become great artists and they will come to the West, won’t they?

Certainly.

Are you concerned about the influx awaiting us?

I’m very concerned . Mainly about the number of people who don’t get the transmission of knowledge from a school or a culture to them, the players.

Your Gilmore workshop in Kalamazoo last year had six students, five of whom were Asians. Is that a sign of the future?

It is. No more comment.

Isn’t piano study a big problem in the USA, with all the electronic games and distractions from music lessons?

The problem is also in Europe. We have lost a lot of quality, in terms of knowledge behind the music. The schools do not make the transmission from the composers to us. We owe that to the composers. And it’s very sad because now we focus on goals and competition, and competition does not go well with art.

You had a life in the competition world, did you not?

Not really. At about age 28 I was obliged to compete because I was chosen by the (Salazar) dictatorship in Portugal and I had to go to the Beethoven Competition in Brussels.

You won that first prize didn’t you?

Yes but I am absolutely not proud at all of that.

Do you have an opinion about competitions?

I have an opinion, a very strong opinion. Competition and art do not go together. Unfortunately young people believe that if they don’t participate in competitions, they cannot earn a living. That’s an illusion, I promise you, it’s a total illusion. A pianist with skills and knowledge can do many other things.

Don’t young pianists from wealthy backgrounds have an easier way forward?

I have nothing against money or rich people. But I have something against how much can this can disturb our view. I see more and more young people being distracted by that idea. Money is replacing everything. It is replacing the clear view over everything. We need more empathy with other people. If we don’t have that empathy we are blind, in terms of consciousness. This is the worst thing that could happen.

Are you still playing regularly?

Yes, but I have a big problem with my right hand dystonia [involuntary muscle contractions in the hands]. This is taking too much effort. I also have small hands, so I always have problems. Age just makes it worse. [She presses her open palm against my “piano hands”. I easily envelope hers in mine.]

Ashkenazy also has tiny hands and yet he manages to jump octaves, even tenths.

Tiny is one thing. This is another. I have a child’s hands and that’s different from “tiny” hands.

Your repertoire seems tightly controlled, with accent on Bach, Mozart, Chopin, Schubert, Debussy.

Even among the French impressionists, I play with great difficulty. It’s not easy. And neither can I do the Russians, Rachmanniov, Prokofiev. But I like to teach pieces that I don’t play.

You have recorded Schumann and Brahms.

Yes, but I play them but in very small amounts.

You have been quoted as blaming Liszt for inventing the modern solo piano format.

No, Liszt was a great composer. How can I blame him? If I cannot play some pieces, it’s my fault, not his.

Over the past twenty years, workshops and teaching are taking you more and more away from the concert stage.

Yes, I have always been interested in the transmission of skills and knowledge. As an adult, I realized that the transmission is cut back. So the transmission of art is not happening any more. I wish we could be stronger in our complaining about what’s going on. We have no clear view over future generations. How to teach them, how to deal with problems.

How much energy do you have left? How much more stamina is there in you, living in hotels, taking planes and trains throughout Europe and Asia? Doesn’t that wear you down?

Yes, it does, and I was sick really badly for six months and this was a very good lesson for me. My body and spirit were saying “Come on, take care of yourself.” I still have a bit of energy but I rest when I need to rest.

You have said you suffer from stage fright.

I have a lot of stage fright. We have this responsibility, and that can give you a lot of pressure. So you don’t want to go on stage. I prefer if I wake up on a day that I have nothing on stage, I am happy. And if I don’t have to go into an airplane, I am happy. It is not a pleasant life. But it is a life that brings a lot of experience. A vision of the world, and of the people — how they react to things.

Are you still uncomfortable playing in public?

Yes, but I am comfortable with people who collaborate with me, people who are there to listen to the music. I feel they are friends.

Do you still need to practice?

Yes, I need to practice more and more. Sometimes an hour a day, sometimes five, sometimes nothing. What shrinks is not only your skills, it’s your repertoire. That’s life.

If you could choose, how do you want to be remembered after your time runs out?

No problem. I have no wish at all. All right, I have one wish. When I die, I don’t want to die stupid or mean.

Michael Johnson and Frances Wilson recently published a collection of interviews with concert pianists, under the title “Lifting the Lid”. The book is available through Amazon.

MICHAEL JOHNSON is a music critic and writer with a particular interest in piano. He has worked as a reporter and editor in New York, Moscow, Paris and London over his journalism career. He covered European technology for Business Week for five years, and served nine years as chief editor of International Management magazine and was chief editor of the French technology weekly 01 Informatique. He also spent four years as Moscow correspondent of The Associated Press. He is a regular contributor to International Piano magazine, and is the author of five books. Michael Johnson is based in Bordeaux, France. Besides English and French he is also fluent in Russian.

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Unsuk Chin composer
Unsuk Chin, Berlin, den 12.05.2014

Korean-born composer Unsuk Chin is one of the featured artists at this year’s Aldeburgh Festival, which is celebrating its 75th anniversary. Find out more about Unsuk Chin’s influences, working methods, and thoughts about classical music in general in this insightful, thoughtful interview:

Who or what are the most significant influences on your musical life and career as a composer?

The most formative influences are probably those from childhood when the senses react to everything around them in a more ‘holistic’, immediate approach. Then, there was the time of my studies: immersing myself in European avant-garde music in the early 80s was vital, as I had before that known ‘Western’ musical history only until Stravinsky’s Violin Concerto. Conversely, the experience of studying with Ligeti, who denounced the avant-garde, requested utterly original music of excellent craftsmanship from himself and his students, asking me to throw away my prize-winning works, was a pivotal moment. Indeed, moments of crisis and subsequent attempts to find a way out are essential moments and threshold experiences.

The excellent Danish poet Inger Christensen wrote that the major influences on her work were creative stumbling blocks, irritations that, in the long term, made her question and develop her approach. For me, such a moment was when I worked, in the late 80s, and after a writer’s block of almost three years, for a couple of years at a studio for electroacoustic music. Through this, I could re-evaluate the essential elements of my compositional approach and expand the basis of my music. Another significant experience was, in the 90s, longer stays in Bali, where I studied Gamelan music – the acquaintance of a different tradition of great refinement and quality deeply rooted in the society was a discovery.

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

That was to realise my childhood dream of becoming a professional musician and fighting my way out of difficult circumstances – in the 1960s and 1970s, South Korea was a poor post-war country on the periphery, and it was not easy to start as a female Asian composer in Germany.

What are the special challenges and pleasures of working on a commissioned piece?

Without a commission or deadline, I would never compose a work. One needs much pressure from the external world to get through this crazy process. I don’t have any works in my drawer. Writing a new piece is a very demanding process and can take years. I wouldn’t go for it without external pressure and the adrenaline rush. At the same time, I would never accept a commission with conditions that don’t fit into the musical thoughts and goals I am working with during a specific period.

What are the special challenges and pleasures of working with particular musicians, singers, ensembles or orchestras?

I always choose very carefully which commissions I accept. One has to prioritise. It almost needs to be a compulsion: if I don’t have an idea what to write for a certain instrument or concept, I won’t do it. For example, I wrote my First Violin Concerto in 2001 and was convinced I would never write another one. But then, when there was a possibility to write for Leonidas Kavakos, I reconsidered, and the work, 20 years later, is very different from the first one.

Of which works are you most proud?

I move on and try to do something new with every piece. I have removed several earlier works from my work list as I am not content with them. As for the remaining ones, I accept them, but there are also pieces to which I feel more emotional distance than others – which is unsurprising when one revisits works from several decades ago. But I can also name a counterexample – my Piano Concerto, which is from 1995 but which wasn’t much performed before the Deutsche Grammophon recording two decades later. This is a work into which I put all the energy and frenzy of my then 34-year-old self – I wouldn’t compose in this manner any more, but I feel emotionally close to it.

How would you characterise your compositional language?

I prefer not to, as it may make it more difficult for the listener to approach the work without prejudices. Besides, when I compose a new work, the most important thing for me is its unique shape. Of course, as a composer, you have a particular craft; you prefer certain materials and draw on compositional techniques acquired through the years. You cannot and perhaps shouldn’t avoid that. Nonetheless, it is important for me to attempt each work to be singular in character. Pablo Picasso once expressed it this way: style holds the painter captive in the same point of view, in a technique, in a formula, but he always wants to make something that is new and unknown to himself.

How do you work?

With pen and paper. Composing is, above all, waiting — days, sometimes weeks, before the empty staves. And then, suddenly, a door opens in the head. With age and experience, one develops trust that this door opens at some point if one tries hard enough. The music is in my head. I sometimes jot down ideas, plan harmonies, etc., but for me personally, it is an abstract process without piano or other devices. It can take several years for thoughts and concepts to mature. And when the pressure is great enough, it’s like giving birth: the thoughts have to come out, then you write.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

That I am fortunate to be performed by several excellent musicians.

What advice would you give to young or aspiring composers?

To think carefully if one really wants to have a life as a professional composer. It is usually a back-breaking and lonely job, and the financial prospects are often non-existent. If one really wants to do it, one should, but one should be aware what price it takes.

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

This is not easy since, nowadays, there is a tendency to think more and more in purely economic and functional categories, on top of which you have to add the quickness of modern mass media. Besides, there exists a mistaken notion that classical music would be something ‘elitist,’ which is why the notion that society should support artforms that only a small minority will engage with has lost traction. All of this does not mean that things were better during other times. However, it is concerning and a scandal that music is often no longer even considered a minor subject in schools due to very obscure claims of competitiveness and economic success – claims often made, for example, by numerous politicians. It is wrong to withhold from children the experience of art, which is one of the things that distinguishes human beings from AI, not to mention that art often provides indispensable solace and a utopia. Anyway, there are also ‘late bloomers’, audiences that can be won over with creative ideas and new approaches even if they won’t have had previous exposure to classical music; after all, the experience of great music can be a deeply emotional one. The methods and approaches used to try to develop classical music’s audiences depend on the place and context. But the main thing, I believe, is trust. Trust in quality, the hard work of serious performers and composers, the slow progress of building audiences and overcoming obstacles, an almost aggressive defence of artists’ quality and hard work, the audience’s right to hear this music, and the need for financial support of the whole musical ecosystem.

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

I doubt that such a thing exists as ‘the music industry’ – fortunately, we live in a diverse world. At the same time, of course, certain tendencies exist, but these are intertwined with societal developments. Our times are obsessed with the speed of information, packaging, and the surface, which can be problematic for developing sustainable quality standards. Also, the future of classical music institutions in many places is endangered. That leads often to market-think and occasionally to a winner-takes-it-all mentality. At the same time, fortunately, there are many niches and different initiatives. It was much more polarised in the 50 years after the Second World War: there was the established conservative music world, and then there were the rebellious circles of both the avant-garde and the early-music revival, who not infrequently fractured into warring factions. But every time has its challenges.

What do you enjoy doing most?

Playing the piano. If I need a break during an intense compositional process, I might play fugues by Bach for hours. This helps me clear my mind and persevere.

On Wednesday 12th June Tenebrae give the first UK performance of Unsuk Chin’s Nulla est finis – a prelude to ‘Spem in alium’ in Ely Cathedral as part of this year’s Aldburgh Festival. Find out more about Unsuk Chin’s music at Aldeburgh Festival here

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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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Who or what are the most significant influences on your musical life and career as a composer?

Rather than a particular person, I feel the greatest influence came from a breadth of musical experiences. In addition to playing in orchestras and performing solo piano, I performed in bluegrass, rock, and jazz bands, Balinese gamelan ensembles, West African drumming, Bowed Piano Ensembles, and live electronica performances. The biggest drive for me has always been curiosity, about music’s role in humanity and the connections to ourselves, our memories, and our emotions.

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

As artists, we wear our hearts on our sleeves. When a song or piece of music comes together, it almost feels like a gift. In those moments, you can almost touch something bigger than ourselves, and that is an emotional experience, where words fail us, and music steps in. In this day and age, it is learning how to share that experience of music with others, and that means opening oneself up emotionally, and publicly, on the internet. Building a brand out of myself was the largest challenge that I’ve encountered so far!

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working on a commissioned piece

Most of my commissions are for film and tv music productions, which I enjoy because it allows me to move from one music genre or style to another, experiencing different stories and different perspectives (again, with the curiosity!). The challenge is navigating the larger team dynamic, especially in the entertainment industry. I had
to learn how to create through the shared experiences and perspectives of my collaborators, which is a bit trickier than sitting in my studio writing music simply for myself.

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working with particular musicians, singers, ensembles or orchestras?

The greatest gift we have in music is the connection we can get through amazing humans performing. Every instrument on the globe has been meticulously recorded, sampled, and is available on my keyboard in my studio. Yet, working with a musician or ensemble who is a master of their craft is one of the joys of creating music. Whether it be coaching a school choir learning a choral piece, or hearing a film cue performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, the experience of connection though music is very meaningful.

Tell us more about your work with film composer Howard Shore.

I’ve worked with Howard Shore for 15 years, on over 25 films. I’ve worked as his right hand man (or Octopus man, as orchestrator Conrad Pope has called me) handling arranging, orchestration, and producing of his film scores. I started out within a technical capacity, and over the years was always quick to volunteer for more musical tasks. As we navigated the challenges of various film productions, Howard found me well equipped to handle the unique technical and musical requirements of assembling a film score. As part of my work with Howard, I’ve travelled to London, the Netherlands, France, Belgium, Montreal, and many other locations to record orchestras and produce music for films. 

What are the special challenges and pleasures of working on film scores? 

Working on film scores is incredibly labour and time intensive. It requires many hours sitting at a desk to create the 1000s of notes heard in a film score. Not only writing the music, but producing the demos, “conforming” the music to follow picture changes and edits, revising the music based on filmmaker feedback, and orchestrating, recording, editing, and mixing the music makes for a very busy work schedule. One of the great pleasures of working on film scores is amazing resources. While I had to run a Kickstarter campaign and obtain grants to raise the funding for my album of piano quintets, on big budget film scores I have a hundred piece orchestra and any other resources I need. Twelve bagpipes? A group of Didgeridoo players? No problem!

How has your work in film music influenced your new album ‘Everything More Than Anything’?

Working in film music for so long has given me a very strong skillset in how to produce very high quality music. I feel very at home in the recording studio working with musicians, and all that experience makes the writing, producing, and recording of my albums much easier. As all musicians have heard, the more you practice something, the better you are at it!

What do you hope listeners will take from this new album?

I hope listeners will appreciate just how impactful music can be when made with highly skilled musicians playing acoustic instruments. So much of music production these days happens in front a of a computer, and technology has allowed us to create music easily and professionally. But despite these technical advances, making music with other musicians in a room all together has a certain magic which cannot be replicated with technology. 

Dark Before The Dawn – the first track from James Sizmore’s new album Everything More Than Anything, with pianist Stephen Gott

Of which works are you most proud?

All of my solo albums are dear to my heart, as they are closest to my artistic sensibility. I’ve got pieces of film music that have been heard by millions, but some of the songs I’ve written for my wife, my daughters, and my parents are the most meaningful to me. Even though they’ve only been heard by a handful of people!

How would you characterise your compositional language?

I pride myself on being a music chameleon for my film work, but my solo albums are rooted in the classical tradition, and certainly owe a debt to both the late French impressionists, Maurice Ravel and Claude Debussy, and also the 20th century minimalists Steve Reich, Philip Glass, and John Adams. Probably some film music influence in the harmonies as well!

How do you work?

I am regimented in my schedule, actively working in my studio from 9am-6pm (when I can, some productions require constant attention!). Keeping to a schedule helps me to be able to write music quickly, often writing a new piece in a single day.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

When you’re able to do something you love doing for 33% of your time.

What advice would you give to young/aspiring composers?

Let the music be the most important thing. At first, you must set aside your career aspirations, music business approaches, social media branding, and really focus on the passion for music. While all of that other stuff is important, the only way one can sustain a career in music is if you really love it. Fall in love with music before you try to make it your career. I doubt anyone was ever successful by approaching music with the intention to make a lot of money. If you really love making music, everything else is secondary.

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

Live film music performances have done great things for building interest in orchestral music. The Lord of The Rings is performed live every month, and the experience is a nice gateway to the orchestral classics. I recently attended the new David Geffen Hall in New York City, and the experience was outstanding. I applaud NYC for rebuilding the hall inside out and recognizing that the home of the NY Philharmonic is a cultural institution that they want to support wholeheartedly. I believe that strong arts initiatives, and bridging the gap between traditional classical music and popular culture are important for growing audiences.

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

How is it that the terms breve, crotchet, quaver, and minim, never caught on in the USA? My music would be 10% more fun if we had the proper terminology when making it!

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Every moment (or at least most moments!) of our lives can contain perfect happiness by being present in the moment, and feeling gratitude and agency over this amazing life were given. We’re surrounded by beauty every day; one just needs to keep their eyes and hearts open to the world around them.

‘Everything More Than Anything’, James Sizemore’s new album created in collaboration with British-American pianist Stephen Gott, is being released track by track over the coming weeks. The second track is released on Friday 19 January.

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