Shock: JD to become conductor

Here's the news you've all been waiting for. My career is about to undergo a radical transformation. I am going to be a conductor. And I don't mean buses.

I've been training secretly for quite some time. As you know, I started off with a music degree at a university which specialises in churning out conductors - even though it doesn't actually train them, there's a useful phenomenon that if you go there, you are magically endowed with the ability to wield a baton. Back in the 1980s, however, it never occurred to me that I might become a proper conductor with a proper orchestra. It just wasn't something you did if you were a girl. Now, though, everything has changed.

I've spent my whole career seeking ways to combine words and music. And what could be a stronger means to do that than using the former to order about the latter? So I asked a dear friend for some lessons...

It required courage, I admit. But then again, so does driving a car. You take your life in your hands every time you get behind a wheel, not because you can't do it, but because of all the other idiots out there on the road who think they can. Same thing with conducting. Now, don't get me wrong: I'm friends with many, many conductors and they are, in the main, wonderful people, intelligent, musical, creative and modest. But not all of them are. You have to keep reminding yourself: if such total plonkers can step up on that box in front of an orchestra, then so can I.

Of course, being married to an orchestral musician has proved handy, since at least he can tell me how not to conduct. One must learn, for example, not to be a "windmill", not to have one's mouth continually open, and not to be a traffic cop (though there are some resemblances with that process). I have a major advantage in that if I don't have to play the piano, I don't get nervous. And if you're conducting, you don't have to play the piano, or indeed any other instrument. It is impossible to play a wrong note. And if you forget something, at least the musicians know where they are, so probably nobody will notice.

Now I'm planning my debut, which will be on 29 March 2019 to take everyone's minds off Brexit Day. When we first moved to south-west London, there was a local orchestra called The Mortlake Murderers. It disbanded some time ago, but I am single-handedly reconstructing it from among friends, neighbours and contacts and we are going to do a smashing programme finishing with my favourite Beethoven symphony, No.7. In the first half, Tom will be the soloist in the Mozart G major Violin Concerto, and we'll start with Mendelssohn's Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage (in honour of our brave little island drifting off alone into the mid-Atlantic...).

With any luck, I'll be able to have some coaching with Vladimir Jurowski. His likely departure for the Bavarian State Opera in 2021, we note, leaves a vacancy at the top of the LPO...

In the meantime, I'm practising at home and I think the look quite suits me, especially the combination (which I believe is a unique inspiration) of tailcoat and pink flowery t-shirt. I'm reliably informed that I need to work on my actual baton grip. But I believe the pen is mightier than the toothpick.

[UPDATE, 22:46 - so some of you guessed this was an April Fool's joke, and you're not wrong. But I'm sorry it's not true. I'd have loved to be a conductor.]

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All for love: a new orchestra sets out

The UK's newest orchestra is off on its inaugural tour on 13 April. The Pro Youth Philharmonia is the brainchild of flautist and conductor Wissam Boustany and takes in a collection of emerging musicians in their twenties and early thirties. The method, says Boustany, is a bit unusual - see logo above. I asked him to tell us more...

JD: Why is the Pro Youth Philharmonia different from other youth orchestras? Please tell us about its USPs?

WB: We are not out to be different just for its own sake… but we have set ourselves up as a training/youth/professional orchestra for emerging musicians aged 22-32 and will tour approximately three times per year. There are some very fine training and youth orchestras around, of course, but we have pinpointed quite a wide definition of ‘youth’ and ‘’professional’ for ourselves, and central to our ethos is my ‘Method Called Love’, a distillation of 30 years of teaching and performance as a flute soloist. I believe that Love elevates any deed into a transformative experience - both in the way the deed is executed and in the way it is perceived - and this in not addressed enough in institutional education and in the profession. This is what is going to light up our music as well as our audiences hearts, as well as the educational outreach programme that we are in the process of activating. 

Simple, but powerful.      

As a flute soloist born in Lebanon, I will be bringing a special focus on Middle Eastern composers and soloists, over the next years. We are bombarded with some much negativity about that part of the world - I would like to facilitate inspired links and develop cultural ties that nurture talent and build opportunities, goodwill and trust between the UK and that part of the world.

JD: How and why did the idea for it emerge?

WB: In 2015 I was invited to conduct Poulenc’s Piano Concerto “Aubade” at the Australian National Academy of Music in Melbourne. This proved to be a transformative experience for me and my wife Shermine encouraged me to pursue conducting seriously. It is all in the breathing… I have a connection my breathing is at the root of my playing and will be the foundation of my conducting. I have been studying with the astonishingly gifted conductor George Pehlivanian in Madrid (how stimulating and refreshing it has been, to study again, at age 57!!). 

This new focus on conducting has also brought up such vivid memories from my days with Claudio Abbado and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe - Claudio’s approach, the combination of his his soft-spoken nature yet devastatingly powerful conducting have left a deep mark on me… and I believe the secret to Claudio’s success was in the way he chose to work with young people through the European Union Youth Orchestra, the Mahler Youth Orchestra and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe; this is how he built up his approach and his repertoire, and how he was able to preserve and nurture his musical and human passion.     

JD: How have you gone about turning the idea into reality?

WB: The simple answer: where love lives, so does empowerment and the Will to overcome.

I was lucky enough to meet Derek Warby, who had worked with EUYO and other orchestras. His knowledge and pragmatism, passion for music, understanding of the orchestral scene and the inner workings of the music industry have been invaluable. He is spearheading our campaign, as PYP fast  approaches its inaugural tour, as our Head of Marketing and Strategy (besides a lot more).

I also met Mathilde Agoustari when I performed with the Qatar Philharmonic Orchestra several years ago, when she was in charge of their Public Relations… Mathilde has been really instrumental in spreading the word about PYP, as our Head of PR/Communications and Outreach. 

I have been overwhelmed by the goodwill shown by many friends, supporters and colleagues, when they heard about the orchestra and the motivation behind it. Our Trustees Hussein Dbouk and Aleksander Szram, as well as  Nicky Goulder (Create Arts) have been a great source of information, advice and encouragement.

JD: What’s been the most challenging thing about creating it?…

WB: When a project like this is being born from scratch, you have zero reputation, so the tendency is for people to wait and see the result (or whether the project will happen at all) before they commit to supporting you, financially or otherwise. The risks of starting a venture like are enormous - financially, emotionally and creatively; but I have always taught my students that you learn in direct proportion to the risks you are prepared to take; so I am humbly walking the talk. 

Luckily, Derek Warby is by my side and has a great overview of the logistical challenges that we face every step of the way; this has helped us stay on track. After this first tour, organising subsequent projects will be much easier.

  
JD:...And the most exciting and rewarding thing?

Boustany and furry friend

WB: I have single-handedly auditioned every single musician (69 players on this inaugural tour). The human dimension of music, after all the hard and often lonely work, is very rewarding. I have been particularly proud of the auditions, because they were designed to be as empowering and conducive to creativity as possible. Candidates chose their own repertoire and improvisation was one of the key determining factors in revealing the inner potential of the musicians. 

On a personal level, I feel that my whole body and brain are undergoing a fundamental rewiring… for 35 years I have been channelling my creativity into my flute - I am now expanding and using my body and mind in a different way, to connect with people and the great symphonic repertoire, after having vowed never to play in an orchestra again, when I stood down from Chamber Orchestra of Europe in the mid 80’s. This whole process has woken me up and I even hold my old friend, the flute, with renewed love. 

JD: How did you choose the programme for the inaugural tour? It’s wonderfully challenging.

WB: Derek and I consulted on this.

The first choice was the Bartok Concerto for Orchestra. What a feast of colour, folklore and internal revelations. Emerging from dark internal depths, Bartok reaches into the external world, putting expression to the 'people's voice', revealing so much colour, optimism, sensuality and humanity - not to mention the convulsions of Nature. And what brilliant orchestration, giving each individual instrument it's voice and character, while allowing a cohesive universality to take root. 

I also love the Prokofiev Violin Concerto No 2 and am delighted that Stephanie Gonley will be our soloist… I am  seeing so many similarities with his great flute sonata. What an enigmatic combination of threat, wit, virtuosity, scintillating rhythm and utterly clever orchestration. He seems to know exactly what emotional symbolism each single instrument carries with it, which brings such colour and character to his music.

I was immediately fascinated with James MacMillan’s The Confession of Isobel Gowdie when I heard it and thought it would balance well with the other works. MacMillan’s chosen theme of the witch-hunt, although relating to historic Scottish events, is something that I think is very relevant to our lives today, as there is always some sort of ongoing witch hunt happening in the media… it seems to be a national sport, to isolate and prey on people who don’t fit with the established and accepted norms of society.  

JD: Where will it go from here - and where would you like it to go eventually?

WB: I need to start reaching out to composers and soloists from the Middle East, and to approach the big movers and shakers to support these projects. 

I also look forward to planning our first full season of tours for  2019 and beyond. We are conceived as a touring orchestra, so I really want to develop these within the the UK and abroad. Once the next tours are set up, I will want to consolidate our educational outreach programme, so that our “Method Called Love” can run rampant among school children, while involving our PYP members in this important dimension of what the orchestra does. We plan to initiate Art & Poetry Competitions in school, so that schoolchildren can voice their feelings about the state of our world - these poems will be recited in our concerts and the paintings will become the artwork for our poster campaigns. 

JD: What is the message you want it to bring to us all?

May love prevail.

The Pro Youth Philharmonia's inaugural tour begins on 13 April at Cadogan Hall, London, then goes to the Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford (14 April) and Victoria Hall, Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent (15 April). More details here.

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Children of the Stars

"There is no boundary of difference... different skin, different religion, or different culture - we are all children of the stars."

Here's a fascinating interview with the Korean composer Unsuk Chin, who has a major European premiere in London next week under the auspices of the Philharmonia Orchestra. She talks about her studies with György Ligeti ("He opened my eyes and my mind"), her compositional processes ("I need 3-4 years to get the idea clear") and the blend of science and art that has gone into this huge new work. She collected 150 poems first and finally selected 12-13 variously about the birth of the universe, humanity and eternity.

The resulting different songs/movements span centuries and continents, all of them exploring the idea that we are, essentially and all of us, the substance that comes from a star. Chin says here that she reads about astronomy every day and that it brings her "hope in this world". It's an optimistic work. "My dream is to perform this piece with mixed north and south Korean boys' choir - I don't know if it will be possible, but I have hope."

Is it the Big Bang? "Not that big," Chin smiles, "but I wanted to create...a very big sound with lots of power..."

Unsuk Chin's Le chant des Infants des Etoiles (The Song of the Children of the Stars) receives its European premiere on 15 April at the Royal Festival Hall, with the Philharmonia, the Philharmonia Voices and Trinity Boys Choir conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen. Tickets here.

And a nice long draught from the Glyndebourne Opera Cup

Samantha Hankey, winner of the Glyndebourne Opera Cup, with Dame Janet Baker
Photo: Richard Hubert Smith

You've heard about the journey home, so now here is a view from the inside on the Thing Itself, i.e. the brand-new Glyndebourne Opera Cup. I've written about it for The Arts Desk and you can find it here: https://theartsdesk.com/opera/glyndebourne-opera-cup-view-inside-0

Taster:

I was on a panel of six critics convened to choose the winner of a special ‘media award’ at the Glyndebourne Opera Cup on Saturday evening. What follows is therefore not a review, but rather a chance to chew over the concept and its highs and occasional lows. And you may be intrigued to hear that our panel and the main jury picked the exact same top three winners.

From its first season in 1934, Glyndebourne has been inextricably associated with the music of Mozart. Having decided to devote every edition of its new contest to the works of just one composer, Wolfgang Amadeus was therefore the natural choice for the inaugural event. Mozart suits young voices, as the competition’s founder, ex-Glyndebourne CEO Sebastian Schwarz, pointed out (all the finalists were aged 21-28). But also, as any professional musician will tell you, his music is the ultimate challenge. There’s nowhere to hide. His writing is so streamlined, precise and exposed that if performers are able to draw out its subtle shadings of meaning, with gorgeous tone and sincere emotional expression, you know about it fast. And if they don’t, you know about that too. It’s magic hidden in a minefield...

Read the rest here (£).


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Many a slip 'twixt opera cup and...er, East Croydon

On Saturday night I was honoured to be a member of a media panel, six critics convened to select the winner of a special award in the Glyndebourne Opera Cup. It was a wonderful event, and nice to see the gardens in early spring for a change, full of daffodils and primroses. Describing us and our task, presenter Chris Addison quipped: "That must be a fun room." You better believe it, buster - we were tucking into our sandwiches very happily, and reached exactly the same conclusion as the chief jury, but in a fraction of the time. We gave our media prize to the lovely American mezzo-soprano Samantha Hankey, who also emerged with overall first prize. I'm writing a full account of the evening at the moment and will post a link as soon as it goes live. 

What follows now is what followed.

Unfortunately Southern Trains had decided to do weekend engineering works that day, so the Lewes line was closed south of Three Bridges. The press office kindly agreed to provide the five of us who needed transport with a large taxi to and from Three Bridges station. 

Coming back afterwards, large taxi is late, but eventually turns up driven by cheerful if charmingly dim cabby, who treats us to a CD of Christian devotional songs from the 1970s twice through. After three hours of unadulterated Mozart, it's briefly refreshing; we could, of course, use some silence, but politely do not object. At some point the critic of the Financial Times notes quietly: "This journey feels longer than the one on the way down, doesn't it?" 

He's not wrong. "Oh," says cabby, "I missed the turning. Sorry 'bout that..." We go round a roundabout in a concrete wasteland for a second time, take a bumbly right turn across a carriageway on which a maniac is speeding towards us at what looks like 95mph, and pull up outside...Crawley station. But we don't want Crawley - the trains crawl. We want Three Bridges, whence trains go lickety-split to Victoria via Clapham Junction, and it's very nearby. Indeed, it's round the corner. There were signposts to it. Cheerful cabby can't find it. "Uh, that's where the satnav sent me... Dunno why I did that... I think it's just down here, let's go round this roundabout again." 

We do. We turn right. "Oh whoops, I think this was the wrong one..." - and, boing, we're back on the M23, with no turnoff before Gatwick, 'Amazing Grace' blaring out. One of us suggests going to Gatwick instead - it's only a mile away and there are more trains. We head for Gatwick...

...to find that the motorway exit, bless its cotton socks, is closed for roadworks. There isn't another for many miles. The deputy editor of Opera Magazine discovers on Google Maps that it will now take 26 minutes to get to Gatwick, despite it being 1 mile away, and it's only 3 mins longer to drive to East Croydon... 

Cheerful cabby, eye on meter, agrees to take us to the latter, as we can't turn round now in any case. A few miles up the A23 by a traffic light, there's a sign to Coulsdon station. Taxi screeches to halt: "Is it that station you mean?" No. The name's Croydon. East Croydon. 

We trundle through the backwoods of Surrey, which are quite extensive, to South Croydon. "Is it that station there?" No. That one's South Croydon. It's only just down the road from....

Full credit to the deputy arts editor of The Times, who is in the front seat, asserts his authority, finds the right turnoff and navigates us safely to East Croydon at long last.

Moral: never underestimate a bunch of music critics. And if your cabby puts on a playlist of devotional songs from the 1970s, exit the cab at once. Don't wait. Run. 


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