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 was exposed to music from a very early age, in a very natural, instinctive way. I simply responded to when my grandmother sang, or when my parents were listening to something on television, or if a song that I liked came on the radio. We had no formal classical music knowledge or education in my family. In Montenegro at that time, there was very little classical music, but somehow I was instinctively drawn to any sort of music.

Then, when I was 8 years old, I heard that it was possible to go to music school and that it was free, my parents didn’t have to pay for it, that I just had to go there and they would check whether you were musical or not. They thought that I was very musical. Originally, they wanted me to play the violin or the piano, but at home we had an old guitar that nobody played and that was much easier because my parents didn’t have to buy an instrument. It was a very challenging time in Montenegro in the 1990s and money was not abundant. So that was it, I ended up playing the guitar – and the rest is history!

The most important influences have been the people that I met on the way – my colleagues, mentors, teachers. I guess the first big inspiration was Segovia, because at the time when I was bored with the guitar at the age of 9, my father played me an old LP with his recording on it. That was the first time I heard what the classical guitar sounded like and I was completely mesmerised by what I heard. I said “I will one day played Asturias like that”, and I think that was a crucial, critical moment of inspiration. And then when I met David Russell when I was at the point between primary and secondary school (4 years before university in Montenegro) – that is when you decide what to specialise in – and I was torn because I was a very good student in school as well, and pursuing a career in music in Montenegro at that time wasn’t exactly a popular choice. But meeting David Russell in a masterclass in Italy really opened the doors for me, broadened my thinking and made me believe it was possible. He encouraged my career in music and said that if I was really serious about it, if I wanted to study and become the best musician I could possibly be, that I should come to London to the Royal Academy of Music. They have an amazing programme there and that when I was ready I should apply. From that moment on, that was all I could think about, and I made it happen a couple of years later.

Then when I came to London I took huge inspiration from the presence of John Williams and Julian Bream, and what they meant and represented in London. Having the chance to meet them both, to win the Julian Bream prize when I was a student, and to have his feedback was a huge inspiration. And John Williams through all his recordings and repertoire and his incredible way of playing that is, aesthetically, second to none. Other inspirations include great conductors, colleagues, musicians from different walks of life. I was very lucky to build a rich career of different influences and inspirations, and I always say “I am the luckiest plucker in the world!”.

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

I feel that we only go forward when we are challenged, and my life in music really happened against all the odds. The first was for me to find a way to go from Montenegro to London and study at the Royal Academy of Music. It was a kind of “mission impossible” to do that because we had completely different ways and systems in Montenegro. There was hardly any money, and suddenly I got a scholarship and I had to be in London. So being there was incredibly challenging. And then finding my way and learning and forgetting everything I knew and almost starting from scratch again; that too was a huge challenge.

The second one came when I finished my formal studies, when I developed this way of playing and when I felt ready to have an international career, and to realise that the world out there was not open to the guitar and guitarists in the same way it was 30 years ago, or that it is now, 12 years later. And pushing through that and breaking that glass ceiling was a huge challenge, but I was blessed with incredible stubbornness and determination. I had this one goal, and no plan B.

When I signed with a major recording label and got a wonderful manager, then I really started living the life of an international musician in a way I had always dreamt of. But then that life also comes with huge stresses and responsibilities: hardly any free time, everything that you do suddenly matters, knowing that all the eyes are on you, so that’s also a huge challenge for every young artist who is part of this industry. Then 7 years ago from working too hard and from being emotionally exhausted and burnt out, I wasn’t able to play for over a year and faced the possibility of never playing again because my hands were really acting up and nobody really knew what was wrong. But again I found my way out through my love of music, and I think that allowed me to come out of that huge crisis. In order to come out of that crisis, I had to rekindle my relationship with the guitar, to rediscover the love that I felt, and the purity of that love for music, and why I did what I did. And I think by doing my best and by achieving this sort of success, that I was perhaps trying to prove something to the industry, to people, to everyone around me. That really chipped away at that purity of connection I had with music when I was younger, and I think I had to rediscover that. The injury to my hand was a catalyst for that rediscovery.

The pandemic was of course a huge challenge for everyone because I think it also allowed everyone to re-evaluate, and to understand that what we do [as musicians] is a huge blessing and a huge privilege, and we do it because we love it. There are maybe 100 other things we could have done, but we chose to be musicians. That realisation in itself is incredible, and it was so formative for me personally, now I finally feel, through all those challenges of my life, my career and my musicianship, that my relationship with guitar is finally complete.

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

I have been, shall I say, blessed with a very vivid imagination and ever since I was a child, whenever I heard or played something, I always created pictures and visual images in my mind. So anything that is very programmatic, very exciting and emotional, usually allows me to express myself in this open, free and honest way. So I find great inspiration in modern works, especially those written especially for me because when I work with composers I think that they pick up on that idea. The Guitar Concerto that Joby Talbot wrote for me at the Proms a couple of years ago is an example of that – a sort of programmatic Ink Dark Moon, as he called it.

https://youtu.be/gDqNkdYfOJw

Then some modern contemporary compositions written by guitar players who really know the instrument and what it can achieve and create, a sort of drama in sound, and inspire an audience – I love those because they allow me to have direct access to each and every person in the audience. That has been great – pieces like Coimbra or works by Leo Brouwer. Even when I think of Villa Lobos and the strength of his writing for the guitar, it’s just something that I enjoy tremendously.

But equally, I enjoy the opposite of that energy in the music of Bach, because I think in Bach everybody can find themselves. Bach is a mirror of our personality and our musicianship; it’s the beginning and the end. We go on so many musical journeys and always come back to Bach, and the purity and perfection that his music offers. When I perform Bach I really feel that is when I arrive and achieve the deepest levels of exploration and of my musicianship.

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

I love to live a very varied life. I love being surrounded by people from different walks of life. I like to be inspired by talking to artists in different fields, to writers and philosophers, to business people, to people who do regular jobs. I often look at the barista who makes my favourite coffee at the café near to where I live and I just think whenever you do something with love, you are really giving something beautiful to the world, and it doesn’t really matter what you are doing. So I’m inspired by all those small and big things, and all the people and influences that I have in my life. So creating experiences with them brings me inspiration. It gives me space when I am inside my music to allow the music to really “live” in its full capacity. I’ve always felt that when you are too focussed on just one thing and exclude other things, then the pressure on what you’re doing is too great. And you create this fake ideal of responsibility, that in the end only damages the free flow of your music making. I’ve been very lucky to understand this through the challenges of my career and I’m very grateful for that.

When it comes to things that I like to do, I walk everywhere and I love travelling, without going to give a concert. So sometimes I just take a train and go down to Paris in the morning and leave in the evening, and I just breathe in a different city, different culture, different food, different smells. I read a lot. I write quite a bit and I’m so inspired by that because it clarifies my thoughts. And anything to do with the hands: I’m very good at cooking. Being curious and discovering new things – that really keeps me sane.

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

Somehow from the beginning, my career was connected with recording because at the same time I started touring, I signed a major record label contract. So for every album that’s released, comes a different angle and a different theme for the repertoire that I’m recording. My recital programmes very often reflect that because it’s so important to tour at a time when the album comes out. So, from season to season, I make decisions very closely based on whatever I am doing in the studio,

With concertos, there aren’t so many concertos in the guitar repertoire, so in my fingers I always have the Rodrigo Concierto de Aranjuez, and a couple of others. But every season or two I made it my mission to collaborate with composers and to do a different premiere. Focussing on the repertoire for guitar and orchestra in particular, because of the lack of really well known repertoire for guitar and orchestra, has from the beginning been my mission and something that I took very, very seriously. With each season I set up these goals very clearly.

When it comes to chamber music, I wish I had more time to do more interesting projects in chamber music, but whenever I do them, I do them for all the right reasons, with a composer or musicians that I love, or someone who is very a close friend and whose musicianship I admire. It just gives you a chance to really connect on so many different levels and that has been in the case in the last couple of years, with dear colleagues. Festivals in the summer are a great opportunity for this kind of sharing and I always look forward to that. In the summer I think I am most flexible in my repertoire choices because summer festivals often give you an opportunity to have a couple of days to really work on things and really challenge yourself.

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

Over the years I have experienced so many concert halls, and they are not always amazing, but when they are, it’s incredibly inspirational and it really changes how you play. Especially with an instrument like guitar, which by default is quite intimate, when you are getting that feedback from the room and when the wooden box that the guitar is extends to the hall and becomes another soundbox that just envelopes the sound in the room with so many people; it’s just an incredible feeling.

If I think of the venues that have given me most inspiration when I perform solo, I would say that the Wigmore Hall does have a very magical acoustic when it comes to the guitar; also the small hall at the Concertgebouw, and there are couple of beautiful places in America that are perhaps not so well known. In Japan, every second concert hall is extraordinary. But with the big halls, I have often experienced places where I just couldn’t believe it was possible to play a concerto without amplification, or where I would play a recital to an audience of 2500 people, but possible to hear the smallest sound. What really stands out for me in this way is the Symphony Hall in Osaka. It’s just such a privilege to go from one place to another and take in the energy of the room and really transfer it to the audience through your instrument and your musicianship.

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

This is a big one. I feel that there is a real misconception when it comes to classical music. We have this label of being elitist and exclusive, and at the same time we live in a world where buying a Chanel bag for thousands of pounds, or everyone wanting to on holiday to the Maldives and everyone feeling that they deserve it, has, on one hand, become acceptable and not elitist. And on the other hand, going to a classical music concert, especially in the UK where ticket prices are lower than in Europe or America, is somehow considered elitist.

There have been so many efforts to make classical music more relevant and I think some of those have been remarkably successful when it comes to equal opportunities, diversity and inclusion, but at the same time I feel that there have been so many attempts to bring classical music closer by actually going away from what it really is and putting the centuries of tradition, excellence and effort in the background. I think reformulating those values and what they represent is incredible opportunity for all of us to really allow classical music to continue to exist as a part of the whole ecosystem and to not carry that exclusive label. People don’t even really know what that means any more, but it has become almost like the subtitle for classical music. And that’s something where I feel we have a huge responsibility to make a difference, in this crazy world that we live in that is overpowering us with too much information, where we are constantly manipulated on social media, and all media in general, to follow one bandwagon of thought and completely cancel the others. I think people today are so confused and it’s never been more important to actually present something that is so deep and excellent, and there for all the right reasons and all the right values [as classical music]. Because in all that confusion, what people crave is a profound connection, and there is no artform on the planet that is able to do this in a more direct or more instant way than classical music – or music in general.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

I have to say that the first time I performed at the Royal Albert Hall was probably the stand out moment of my whole life. I was playing a solo recital in the round to a completely full hall, pieces from Bach all the way to the romantic guitar repertoire in the purest, most classical form, and at that time there were a lot of sceptics, people who didn’t think a solo guitar recital was possible because it hadn’t been done before. That really was the moment that made my life and career, because it was extraordinary to shrink that great space of Albert Hall into such a small, pinpointed place with just me and the guitar. The energy and the feeling that experience gave me really gave me the wings to fly and to believe that nothing is impossible.

That is the single most memorable concert experience I had, and every subsequent concert performance at the Royal Albert Hall in recital or in a concert has been built on that experience. I did a concert there on 1 June, just after the pandemic, and it was a major moment for me because it was the return of the audience and I was very nervous to see if people would come, and if everything would feel good again. And it did; it was just remarkable to see so many people and to once again share with them this thing that 10 years ago broke certain boundaries and that now, after the pandemic and 10 years later, I was able to do the same thing on different foundations, perhaps in a more grown up way.

What advice would you give to young/aspiring musicians?

The one thing I always say to young musicians is never compare yourself to anyone else. Always know that your voice is unique and that there is nobody in this world who can play the guitar, or piano or violin, or sing like you can. And once you understand that, you start to seek the best of the version of yourself rather than look to be better than someone whom you admire or who is artificially imposed on you as some sort of competition. I think that advice cancels all the negative energy and inspires you at once to achieve success through finding your deepest and purest and most honest self. That is the most important advice that I can give to anybody and I always try do this whenever I have the opportunity.

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

I feel that we live in a world where our society and our industries have never been more open and inclusive, and we have really progressed so far in that. And of course there is still work to be done and we have to continue on the right path. But what I feel is not being talked about in the music industry is the idea that musicians are not some sort of extra-terrestrial fairy creatures. I think my experience with injury and having to deal with that in secret, even though I tried not to make it a secret (I thought that by talking about it, I would actually create an open conversation and save a lot of musicians from future injury) was to realise that it remained taboo, and that was extraordinary to think about. At times almost it felt as if talking about was somehow making me weaker; luckily I didn’t suffer from thinking that was the case, but it was just a realisation that there isn’t enough talk or conversation about what it really means, in practical terms, to be a musician. What it means to be able to perform such an extraordinary thing, every time you’re on stage to work at this level, which is almost superhuman, while at the same time you might be incredibly jet-lagged or tired, and then you push your body and when your body is not happy, then you hurt yourself. In the sports world, and other industries, the conversation about this is such much more open. If we could create a conversation about this topic it would be much, much easier for future generations of musicians to protect themselves and to have concrete tools through the experience of colleagues to safeguard themselves from injury. I know that so many orchestral musicians are silently suffering. I know many professional soloists at the highest level are silently suffering from these issues, simply because being a musician is physically incredibly exhausting and when something is also emotionally so challenging, then it can create such an imbalance and can be very, very hard. So many people have left the industry because of this, because there hasn’t been an open conversation. I feel there has been a lot of talk about mental health and I think that’s incredibly helpful as long as it doesn’t go to an extreme. But I think that if we talked more about concrete issues that go hand in hand with mental health, such as physical injury, then we would be creating an atmosphere of greater inclusion and support, that I don’t really feel exists right now.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

A very important question to ask every musician, because we all work in different ways and we all get a kick from different things. I feel that as you progress in your life, into adulthood, the driving force behind your success changes a lot. It hasn’t been any different for me. I decided to be a musician because of this incredible love and connection which I had with the guitar, and then what drove my success was to reach out to a very wide audience, and that meant everything to me because my happiness and my music making depended on that. I’ve always felt that music only comes alive when you are in front of an audience, so I wanted to have an audience and that drove my need for success.

When I reached that level, I wanted to prove success through how many concerts I was playing, which orchestras I played with, how important and relevant I was in the classical music world because as a guitarist that was very important. I was carrying the flag for the instrument, and I took that very, very seriously. Then after the pandemic, and all the problems I had with my hand, I completely redefined what success means for me. For me now success means finding that deepest and purest connection in my music making: playing concerts and playing for people and each time having an opportunity, without any unnecessary ‘noise’ around me, without the pressures of the industry and the environment in which we exist as international concert artists, each and every time to enjoy this extraordinary privilege of talking to people all around the world through the language of music. If I am able to do that for many years to come, then I feel I have achieved the biggest success that I possibly can.

MILOŠ performs Rodriguez’s Concierto de Aranjuez with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, at London’s Royal Festival Hall on Friday 13 January. The programme also includes the world premiere of ‘The Peacock Pavane’, written especially for MILOŠ by David Bruce. Details/tickets

MILOŠ is signed exclusively to Sony Classical and his debut recording for the label is expected later this year. 


MILOŠ is one of the world’s most celebrated classical guitarists. His career began its meteoric rise in 2011, with the release of his international best-selling Deutsche Grammophon debut album ‘Mediterraneo’. Since then, he has earned legions of fans, awards, and acclaim around the world through his extensive touring, six chart topping recordings and television appearances.

Now exclusive to SONY Classical, MILOŠ is committed to expanding the repertoire for the classical guitar through commissioning of new works. His latest release ‘The Moon and the Forest’ features two world premiere concertos, by Howard Shore and Joby Talbot. His new solo album is due for a released in 2023 and will explore the theme of baroque and its guitar repertoire treasures.

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Pianist Igor Levit is one of the heroes of lockdown – a “key worker”(!), if you will, who provided comfort and distraction in those anxious, early days of the pandemic. At a time when the concert halls of the world were shuttered and silent, Levit gave hauskonzerts from his home in Berlin, broadcast live on Twitter. Each day he would announce a programme and a time to tune in. He streamed more than 50 concerts, performing on a 1920s Steinway B that had once belonged to the Swiss pianist Edwin Fischer. He dressed casually and gave a brief introduction to each performance in German and English – no need for the formality and etiquette of the Wigmore Hall here. He played Bach and Schubert (a tear-jerkingly wonderful D960), Beethoven and Feldman, and people tuned in from around the world. His daily house concerts provided an anchor in a troubled sea.

Maybe for the first time do I understand what it means to speak of music as something life-keeping. It really keeps me alive. . . . I don’t care if it’s wrong or right, whatever B.S. that means….” said Levit in an interview with Alex Ross of The New Yorker. His house concerts challenged our notions of what a concert really is, reminding us that we don’t have to sit in stiff, reverential silence in plush red velvet seats to feel the power of the collective shared experience of music. Separated by a global pandemic, confined to our homes, music connected us, delighted, soothed and comforted us.

Levit’s new album, Encounter, which comes just two years after the release of ‘Life’ (my album of the year in 2018), confirms the spirit of his hauskonzerts. Here is music by Bach-Busoni, Brahms-Busoni, Reger and Feldman that seeks to comfort the soul and provide inner strength while expressing a desire for encounters and togetherness in a world fractured by a global pandemic. Like ‘Life’, it is another very personal album for Levit, the repertoire carefully chosen: these are “works in which all questions about love and death, loneliness and the possibility of real love for others are examined“. The pieces on ‘Encounter’ were those which drew especially positive comments from Levit’s online audience.

The entire album has a processional quality, leading the listener to the hushed serenity of Morton Feldman’s final work for piano – and the final work on this disc – Palais de Mari, a 28-minute contemplation, meditation, or what you will, of exquisitely-placed notes and piquant chords that fall upon the ears and mind like the softest of summer showers. It works in the same way as Bill Evans’ ‘Peace Piece’ did on ‘Life’ – the sentiments of the music match the intensity and spirituality of the works that precede it, yet it also provides a contrast in its delicate minimalist textures and hauntingly spacious pauses.

No one questions the spirituality of J S Bach, but Levit thankfully steers away from an overly-reverential approach which colours so many performances of his music. Alert to the contrasting characters of the Chorale Preludes, elegantly and occasionally flamboyantly transcribed for solo piano by Ferruccio Busoni, Levit finds vibrancy and immediacy, authority, solemnity and joy, and draws on the full range of the piano’s sound and resonance to highlight the voices and layers of this music.

Brahms’ six Chorale Preludes, also transcribed by Busoni, are rarely-heard as a set, and Levit successfully sustains the devotional, introspective nature of these pieces, almost to the point of intimacy. Reger’s transcriptions of Brahms’s Vier ernste Gesänge (Four Serious Songs) are similarly pensive, and Levit’s sensitivity of touch and musical imagination save them from becoming overwhelmed by the richness of their textures.

Reger’s Nachtlied, a sacred motet for unaccompanied mixed choir, provides the bridge to Feldman in this transcription for piano by Julian Becker. Its textures are more transparent, its mood gentler and more prayer-like, settling the listener in for Feldman’s music, which gradually retreats into its own world with a sense of closure and inner calm.

The album was recorded in May at Berlin’s Jesus-Christus-Kirche and is best heard in one sitting, as if as a recital – because here Levit manages to create a very palpable, highly concentrated musical presence throughout the recording.

‘Encounter’ is available on the Sony Classical label and via streaming services

Who or what inspired you to take up the cello, and pursue a career in music?

I’m not from a musical family. My parents and I never thought that I would become a cellist. It all started randomly as my first cello was a gift from my mom’s friend. However, we never took it too seriously and I was not especially curious to learn how to play the cello until a friend of mine came to my home to play games with me. She showed a great interest in the cello and my mom was about to give it to her but that definitely triggered something in me and it was the moment I decided to pick up the cello and learn to play it.  I perhaps would never have become a cellist if this didn’t occur and I have never stopped playing the cello ever since then.

 Who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

Curiosity coupled with a willingness to push myself out of my comfort zone. I always strive to broaden my perspective on life as a global citizen and to be resilient.

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

As a cellist, the challenge is to reach people with my instrument who don’t necessarily know much about cello and classical music.  I hope to continue to make classical music more accessible to a wider audience and that my instrument will be appreciated as much as the piano or voice.

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of?

My first recording of French Cello Concertos with the London Symphony Orchestra.  It was a dream come true as a musician.

Which particular works do you think you play best?

I play everything from my heart.  Works that speak to me the most are the pieces I play so that can change with time.

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

When I choose repertoire for concerts, I do this by consensus and after discussion with the artistic director, fellow musicians and the conductor. I do always try to include some new pieces so that I can expand my repertoire and bring something new to audiences.

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

I do love playing in Seoul in particular because it’s my hometown.  It is always special to perform in my home country.

Who are your favourite musicians?

I love the work of Yannick Nézet-Séguin, former chief conductor of the Rotterdam Philharmonic, with whom I used to work.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

It was one of my most recent concerts in the UK – a recital at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester.  I was so honoured to be there to and felt privileged to play in this wonderful hall.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

For me, I feel most rewarded when I overcome difficulties or discover new ways to interpret a piece I have been practicing. Finding my own way to play a piece means a lot to me.  It gives me a confidence and I am full of joy to play the music.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

For myself, I always look for an inspiration so I visit art exhibitions, I travel a lot, I look for new partnerships, I seek out new repertoire…I like discovering new things.  Life is full of surprises that open up my mind and I would encourage aspiring musicians to always be curious about the world.

Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time?

I would hopefully be in a place where I can continue to follow my passion of music-making.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

I’m not sure if such perfection exists, but for me I definitely feel most happy when I can immerse myself in music.

What is your most treasured possession?

My cello

What is your present state of mind?

I live in the present

Hee-Lim Young’s recording of French Cello Concertos with the London Symphony Orchestra is available now on the Sony Classical label.


Hee-Young Lim was appointed as the Principal Solo Cellist of the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra under Yannick Nézet-Séguin. She was one of the first female Asian cellists ever to lead a section in a major European orchestra. In 2018, she was invited to join the teaching faculty of the Beijing Central Conservatory, the first Korean professor ever appointed to this prestigious conservatory. Praised by the Washington Post as “a deeply gifted musician, with a full, singing tone, near- flawless technique and a natural lyricism that infused nearly every note she played,” cellist Hee- Young Lim has quickly established herself as one of the most charismatic and fast-rising cellists of her generation.

Born in Seoul, she was accepted to the Pre-College division of Korean National University of Arts and Yewon Arts School, winning prizes for Excellence in Music and the Most Distinguished Alumni Award. She entered the Korean National University at age 15, as the youngest student ever to be accepted. She moved to the United States to further her education at the New England Conservatory. Upon graduation, she went on to study at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique de Paris, studying with Philippe Muller, where she graduated with ‘Highest Distinction’. She is also a graduate of Hochschule für Musik ‘Franz Liszt’ Weimar, where she earned her degree summa cum laude.

In-demand as a soloist, she has in recent years performed with distinguished ensembles including the German Berlin Chamber Orchestra, the Budapest Radio Philharmonic, the Warsaw National Philharmonic, the Jena Philharmonie, the Houston Symphony Orchestra, the KBS Symphony Orchestra, the Seoul Symphony Orchestra, the Baden-Baden Philharmonie, the Württembergische Philharmonie Reutlingen, the Bandung Philharmonic, the Korean Chamber Orchestra, the Incheon Symphony Orchestra, the Ningbo Symphony, Zagreb Soloists and many others.

As an enthusiast advocate of contemporary music, Hee-Young Lim is privileged to champion the work of today’s composers. Most recently, Columbia University in New York commissioned her to give the European premiere of Peter Susser’s Cello Suite in Paris and in 2019 she will give the Asia premiere of Jakub Jankowski’s Aspects of Return at the Tong Yeong International Music Festival.

Teaching has been a very significant aspect of Hee-Young Lim’s career. She has held master classes at Seoul’s Ewha University, Rotterdam Conservatory, Paris Reuil-Malmaison Conservatoire and Jakarta University, among others.

She plays on a 1714 Joseph Filius Andrea Guarneri Cello graciously given by a private donor and a Dominique Peccatte bow.

Guest review by Adrian Ainsworth

Rick Wakeman has been a consistently fascinating artist throughout his decades-long career. As a fan of both classical and progressive rock music, I feel he’s been a constant presence, his cape sweeping nonchalantly across any so-called dividing lines between genres and styles.

In contrast to the grandeur of some of his earliest and most familiar work, Wakeman’s most recent releases have felt more intimate and introspective. The 2017 album ‘Piano Portraits’ was just that: solo piano treatments – somewhere between arrangements and variations – of an eclectic range of pieces that covered Debussy and Fauré, Elgar and Holst, Bowie and the Beatles… and not to leave out his own band, Yes.

This new album, ‘Piano Odyssey’, is in many ways a sequel with seemingly deliberate echoes of its predecessor. As before, there are two Beatles tracks, and just the one from Bowie this time, amid other carefully chosen cover versions. Yes is represented by two new arrangements. On the classical team are Liszt, Dvorak and Handel.

As the album title suggests, though, a journey of some kind has taken place. Rather than simply repeat himself, Wakeman has added strings and a choir more or less throughout, diluting the forensic focus on the lone piano. However, the lush arrangements can’t disguise the fact that this feels like an even more personal project, surveying Wakeman’s career more incisively and giving it a perhaps unexpected unit

I think this unity is behind the quality I loved most about the disc, which is that it sounds exactly like something its creator would pull together – and yet at the same time, it feels like a surprise, not quite like anything else. In theory, given the forces involved, the classical feel should dominate, but that isn’t what happens. Instead, it’s rather more like listening to a kind of ‘chamber’ prog: Wakeman often deploys his string players and singers as if they were band members, the choir in particular performing ‘solos’, moving in and out of tracks as needed rather than saturating them. His own distinctive playing has him operating like a combined rhythm and lead guitar might, capturing the melodies at the top end with great delicacy (and some very agile embellishments!), without sacrificing a sense of real propulsion.

As a result, the pieces that really hit home for me are the two Yes songs, in particular ‘And You & I’, and the reworks of two of his solo tracks, ‘After the Ball’ (now merged with Liszt’s ‘Liebestraume’), and ‘Jane Seymour’ (originally composed on organ, and with Bach coursing through its bloodstream). In the CD liner notes, Wakeman explains how the new versions make what he was trying to do clearer, more audible. And there’s no doubt that ‘Piano Odyssey’ is giving him the opportunity to shine a light on his practice: without trying to ‘match’ or ‘outdo’ Liszt, he has deliberately designed his medley to show how the composer influenced him. (Elsewhere, he uses this technique to illuminating effect in ‘Largos’ – merging Dvorak and Handel with the utmost respect, but a refreshing lack of deference.) Equally, in ‘And You & I’, the sparkling high-pitched melody is so evocative of Jon Anderson’s vocal it’s somehow uncanny.

I don’t think the record is totally flawless. How you react to the more familiar covers will inevitably depend on your relationship to the originals, and what you want a new version to achieve. I felt ‘The Boxer’ was a misfire: to me, the song, while tender, has an underlying resolve and pugnacity that befits its title. Here, the slow pace fatally weakens it, along with oppressive strings and the choir contributing isolated ‘lie la lie’s with no context. On the other hand, a similarly sentimental treatment of ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ fits the song like a glove. The version of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is shot through with wit, subverting any bombastic expectations the listener might have – even Brian May’s guitar cameo appears out of nowhere.

Two completely new compositions again emphasise the personal – named for two adopted moon bears, Rocky and Cyril (Wakeman is a passionate animal rights advocate). Writing from scratch in this idiom allows Wakeman to produce probably the most nakedly emotional tracks on the record, the signature traits (again, the steady motor, the climb to the high register) reflecting how much of himself he has put into these pieces. And I think it’s fair to say that the whole album – a heart-on-sleeve musical autobiography-of-sorts – wins through as an accomplished yet totally sincere attempt by the artist to communicate a true audio sense of himself.

Rick Wakeman’s ‘Piano Odyssey’ is available now on the Sony Classical label.

Meet the Artist interview with Rick Wakeman


Adrian Ainsworth writes for a living, but mostly about things like finance, tax and benefits. For light relief, then, he covers his obsessions – overwhelmingly music, but with sprinklings of photography and art – on the ‘Specs’ blog, which you can find at

Twitter: @adrian_specs

Adrian is a regular guest writer for The Cross-Eyed Pianist

 

 

 

 

life_cover_750x750_88985424452_enThis could be the best thing I’ve heard this year. A bold claim, I know, but listening to Igor Levit’s new recording Life (Sony Classical) literally stopped me in my tracks….

With four recordings already and glowing reviews wherever he plays, this latest offering – his first in three years – from German-Russian pianist Igor Levit was eagerly awaited. It’s very different from his previous recordings which have focussed on “big” serious works (the Diabelli and Goldberg Variations, Rzewski’s The People United Will Never Be Defeated, late Beethoven Sonatas). ‘Life’ is a classical concept album, a very personal existential reflection on life and death, prompted by the death of a close friend. Music has proven therapeutic benefits and Levit finds a way through his grief , though perhaps not a sense of closure, in a series of solemn, valedictory and deeply thoughtful works by Busoni, Bach/Busoni, Schumann, Rzewski, Wagner/Liszt and Bill Evans. There’s no flashiness here, no glittering runs or vertiginous virtuosity – that would be inappropriate. Instead we have a continuous meditative flow of music from Busoni’s Fantasie after J S Bach through the fleeting poignancy of Schumann’s Geister (‘Ghost’) Variations to Bill Evans’ Peace Piece, an unusual but entirely fitting work with which to close this wondrous recording.

Every note is considered, measured, poised but never mannered: there’s none of the pedantry other “intellectual” pianists tend towards in performance. This playing epitomises the maxim “through discipline comes freedom” – something I felt very strongly in Levit’s mesmerisingly intense concert of Beethoven’s last three sonatas at Wigmore hall last year. You could have cut the atmosphere – one of concentrated collective listening – with a knife, and Levit achieves the same palpable sense of presence, intimacy and profound communication on this recording. It’s as if you’re in the room with him, quietly observing, listening, almost without breathing, while he plays. He finds incredible delicacy in the quietest reaches of the dynamic range – technically hard to achieve and emotionally wrought – and the entire album has a compelling processional quality, felt most strongly (for me) in Liszt’s transcription of Wagner’s Solemn March to the Holy Grail from Parsifal, to which Levit brings immense control and a hushed, prayer-like quality to the magisterial architecture of this work.  The Fantasia and Fugue on the Chorale  ‘Ad nos, ad salutarum undum’,  the longest work on this 2-disc recording, is another glowing transcription, also by Liszt, demonstrating that music, like life, is subject to change. Isolde’s passionate Liebstod and Busoni’s poignant Berceuse pave the way for the final work on the recording.

Bill Evans’ ‘Peace Piece’ matches the solemnity and intensity of the rest of album but in its ostinato bass and delicate treble filigrees, so redolent of Chopin’s tender Berceuse, there is, finally, a sense of consolation. It’s beautifully played by Levit, as are all the pieces on this recording.

Highly recommended

 

 

Who or what inspired you to pursue a career in music? 

My father was a huge inspiration for me. He was a fine pianist and played piano the Charles Kinz stride piano style. Along with my mother, they had a concert party after the way and with the other members of the “Wakeans”, as they were called, used to re-live the shows in our tiny front room in Northolt on a Sunday evening. Around 1953, when I was four, I can recall climbing out of bed and sneaking down the stairs to listen before getting caught and being sent back to bed.

I just wanted to play the piano so badly, and aged five I was sent off to piano lessons with Dorothy Symes, and indeed stayed with her throughout my grades before going to the Royal College of Music.

My father encouraged me to listen to as many different kind of music as possible and to play as many different styles as possible. I owe him so much.

Who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career? 

There are so many – Dorothy Symes was such an inspirational teacher; being taken to see Swan Lake aged about nine and the same year seeing Lonnie Donegan (who in later years became a great friend and fellow Water Rat).

I loved Trad Jazz and especially Kenny Ball, who I also got to meet in later life. My father introduced me to Prokofiev’s ‘Peter and the Wolf’, which mesmerised me. Here was a story being told in music – that was really the moment when I knew that’s what I wanted to do: tell stories in music.

What have been the greatest challenges and pleasures of your career? 

The biggest challenge has always been people saying “You can’t do that“, which makes me all the more determined to do it, regardless of the consequences. I was told doing King Arthur on Ice was doomed to failure, and it is still the most talked about show I’ve ever put on!

Likewise, I was told it was ridiculous to take a symphony orchestra and choir on tour in America – red rag to a bull! I did it and it was fantastic! Every day brings new challenges and if you manage to overcome and solve them, that’s where the pleasure comes in.

Which performances/recordings are you most proud of? 

I would probably give different answers on different days, but these are the ones that come to mind today:

‘The Six Wives of Henry VIII’ as that was the first solo album and was hated by the record company who kept asking when I was going to put the vocals on!

Also ‘Journey to the Centre of the Earth’ and ‘King Arthur’ from the early seventies as well.

With my band, ‘Out There’ (originally released 2003) springs to mind as a very complex album where those around me really understood what I was trying to achieve.

The remakes of both ‘Journey…. ‘ and ‘King Arthur’ are very important to me as it now means there are records of the music to be remembered. Both of there were limited to the amount you could get onto a vinyl recording, so to do the full length versions was very important to me. I did the same with ‘The Six Wives of Henry VIII’ and added the three missing pieces to a live recording made at Hampton Court.

In recent years Piano Portraits has meant a lot tome for many reasons, not lease that it was my way of celebrating the genius and friendship of David Bowie. This has led to my brand new album for Sony Classical, Piano Odyssey, which ventures a stage further with piano variations of the music I love, with a string section and choir. A lot of time was spent getting this album absolutely as I wanted it and so has a special place in my “recording heart”.

Tell us more about your ‘Piano Odyssey’ album….. 

When I recorded ‘Piano Portraits’, it was purely solo piano versions of pieces I loved or had a connection to that had great melodies, and I rewrote variations on themes for all. I was really pleased with the outcome and the album did extremely well, making the top 10 for more than eleven weeks. I had decided against a second volume; however, because whilst there were a lot of other wonderful pieces of music that I wanted to do, none of them would work with just piano in the way I envisaged them.

However, it was ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ that started it all off again. Now working with the team at Sony Classical, I had wanted to do this originally but just couldn’t get it to work on piano alone in the way I could hear it. I kept hearing a string section and choir, and had a Eureka! moment one day when I realised this was indeed the answer – an album of piano variations of great music but with the addition of a small string section and choir.

I prepared a short-list of 40 pieces and eventually whittled it down to the 12 I really knew would work – and that included Bohemian Rhapsody, which I sent to my dear friend Brian May. He not only gave it his seal of approval but added a cameo performance of beautiful acoustic guitar.

‘Piano Odyssey’ is everything I set out to achieve and indeed has even gone a stage further than I thought possible.

What motivated your selection of the music featured on this album? 

Simple answer – melody. There has to be a great melody that allows variations without taking away from the original. There are pieces from The Beatles, David Bowie, Paul Simon, Liszt, Handel, Dvorak, yes and even me! There are also two original tracks that I wrote in memory of two wonderful moon bears which were saved from horrific bear bile farms, and as an Ambassador for Animals Asia, I am proud that we have save so many of these wonderful bears and celebrate them here. Both the bears – Rocky and Cyril Wolverine – sadly passe away. Cyril was my own bear and the loss was devastating for all of us who knew him. I wrote both these pieces surrounded by their photos.

Were there any special challenges in arranging the songs? 

To be honest, no. I have been doing this for many years, although never recording them like this. I also have a good team around me with the Orion Strings and English Chamber Choir, who know where I’m coming from musically.

Do you feel that progressive rock is a way to bring some classical sophistication to the pop world and, if so, are your achievements in some way striving towards leading an innovative, “parallel-classical” career? 

When I started in the late 1960s after leaving the Royal College of Music, there were real divisions within all music types, whether jazz, classical, pop, rock, folk, country, you name it. They all had their own identities and seldom met! I deliberately set out to fuse as much as possible and at first hit a lot of brick walls, but slowly started getting the message across, and today there are no taboos which is great.

With there being a Prog-revival of sorts, does you think there is potential crossover for youth audiences between the two genres? 

There already is and vinyl has a lot to do with it. Younger people are discovering vinyl and album covers and the information contained on them. Music is tactile and vinyl is bringing that back. Music now no longer has a date stamped on it. You either like it or you don’t. There is no specific age thing any more either – that side of things is very healthy.

Would you ever consider making a fully classical album? 

I have been asked to and the answer would have to be no. Although I occasionally turn to Mozart and Beethoven sonatas or plough through the Bach “48” for fun, it’s not what I would want to do, if I’m honest.

As a musician, what is your definition of success? 

Success is sadly always thought of in commercial terms, but for me it probably only comes after you have departed this mortal coil. In other words, if in 100 years’ time somebody on radio plays a piece of my music, then I guess I can say I was successful to a degree…

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians? 

Believe in yourself. Don’t be frightened of opinions and criticism from others, as long as they are qualified to give it (which 99% of them aren’t!). Most people who try and tell you what you should be doing do so because they can’t do it themselves (many don’t know a crotchet from a hatchet!), but occasionally the odd word of wisdom does get through: you just have to be able to spot it.

Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time? 

Alive please – and still able to play, composing and having music adventures.

What is your idea of perfect happiness? 

To be worry-free – so there’s no perfect happiness for any human being, I’m afraid!

What is your most treasured possession? 

My father’s upright Bechstein piano on which I learned to play and inherited when he died in 1980.

What is your present state of mind?

Jumbled! It always is – too much going on!