In an era when musicians (and in fact artists generally) are adapting to the current climate by presenting and performing online, I had the fortune recently to watch a streamed Wohnzimmer performance by cellist, composer and music-and-electronics exponent, Anne Müller.
Continue reading Different risks for the New Normal: a concert by Anne Müller
In these unusual times, we’re pleased to present a ‘virtual’ Music Scholars’ Lunchtime Concert as part of a re-imagined Summer Music Week.
The concert featured several Music Performance Scholars and Award Holders, who had each filmed themselves performing in isolation from their homes around the country. From Scottish piping to French art-song, nimble woodwind pieces and a song from Disney’s Prince of Egypt, a novel way of highlighting just some of the musicians that take part in our extra-curricular music-making.
With thanks to all the performers (and their accompanists!) who took part.
As a means of keeping you entertained / amused / company during lockdown, we’re delighted to present the Music Department Recommends playlist on Spotify this week – your essential guide to differing soundworlds during the current climate.
Each day, we’ve been adding a new piece for your listening pleasure, ranging from laid-back jazz to joyful Baroque, contemporary pop, big band swing or classic tunes. At the moment, Stevie Wonder’s ebullient Did I Hear You Say You Love Me is rubbing shoulders with tracks from Billie Eilish and The 1975, a tranquil summer garden-of-sound from Debussy, a track from Miles Davis’ legendary Kind of Blue album, a beautiful piece by Olafur Arnalds and more – today’s recommendation is the lyrical and mesmerising Strange Birds Passing for flute ensemble by John Luther Adams.
Wherever you’re listening, make sure you Follow our growing playlist as we share songs to entertain, relax, move or transport you somewhere new – the Music Department Recommends playlist is here for you!
If, like me, the music of Philip Glass was a brash, strident and hypnotic part of your growing up, listening to the forthcoming premiere recording of the reconstructed Music In Eight Parts throws open the door to your childhood, and immediately ushers in the familiar stark architecture of Glass’ soundworld that Music in Changing Parts, Music in Twelve Parts, the exuberant 1,000 Airplanes on the Roof and other works created for this impressionable teenager.
As soon as the recording began to play, I was back in my teenage years again, listening spellbound to Glass’ music that was utterly unlike anything I’d heard before, being a classical pianist and steeped in the traditional classical orchestral fodder. Glass’ bold, and at that time refreshingly modern combination of saxophones, voices and electric keyboards, brought an invigorating chamber ensemble sound endlessly turning in and around itself, creating an apparent aural contradiction between a sense of stasis with a slow process of incremental change, all topped off with a restless textural surface, that you don’t really notice if you’re not paying close attention; for me, it was (and still is) endlessly fascinating. I recall a schoolfriend yelling ‘This has all the appeal of listening to A DRIPPING TAP!’ in exasperation at my nth playing of Einstein on the Beach. I could see how this might be, but only if you weren’t listening properly.
And that’s what Glass’ music does best; it dances away on the surface, but if you engage with the unfolding process and the commensurate different rhythmic patterns that evolve, it becomes something completely beguiling. Sometimes, the rhythmic patterns become incredibly nimble, the music dancing on its feet, as the material ducks and weaves through asymmetrical patterns. (Around eight minutes in, it suddenly blossoms and becomes, well, funky, too).
Since the manuscript vanished after a handful of performances in 1970 (only surfacing again in 2017 at an auction in Christie’s), the piece has been reconstructed for the line-up of the Philip Glass Ensemble, the group formed by the composer in the late 1960s and dedicated to taking Glass’ robust chamber music to the masses.
And it’s a recording for the times, too; with performances of the work across Europe cancelled in the face of the Covid-19 crisis, the recording has been assembled from each member of the ensemble recording their part in isolation. Listening to the music unfold for the first time since 1970 under these circumstances, it assumes a greater, almost unstoppable momentum, powering ahead with a relentless force that declares that, even in these challenging times, the power of music will continue.
The premiere recording of Music in Eight Parts by the Philip Glass Ensemble is released on May 22 on Orange Mountain Music.
In the current climate, working from home has become the new norm. As part of an ongoing evaluation of new protocols, procedures and working practices, the Deputy Director of Music undertakes a rigorous assessment of one of the perils of working from home: lunchtime and the Lure of the Biscuit Cupboard.
The trouble with working from home is LUNCH.
On a normal working day, about five minutes before I need to leave the house, I’ll usually suddenly remember that I haven’t made my lunch, so I’ll scrabble around at the back of the cupboard for two or three slices of bread that fell down behind everything else some weeks ago, and which, since they aren’t developing sentient life or movable limbs, can still be classified as edible. I then hurl open the fridge door and look for something that can instantly be cast between the bread-slices to form a sandwich – sliced ham, grated cheese, a rack of lamb or something. Mindful of the need to maintain a balanced and healthy diet, I’ll grab a piece of fruit from a bowl on the window-sill, looking for the one in the least state of advanced putrefaction, and wash it under the tap; if it stays more or less in one piece without falling apart, it’s also classified as edible. Off to work.
Now, working from home provides a Whole New Minefield. I’m no longer limited to what I’ve brought into work with me, and suddenly the kitchen because a vast, seductive Ocean of Possibilities. So, yesterday, for example, I cast open the cupboard door and found a panini, which I subjected to the usual scrutiny and found it was indeed edible. Throwing wide the fridge door, I could take time actually to peruse the contents of the fridge and to start creating something relatively toothsome. Out came the jar of olives; I unearthed a block of mature Cheddar, rather than the usual child’s play-brick of plastic cheese. And lo – I beheld some paté! And relish! I therefore had time leisurely to construct a positive banquet of sustenance, resulting in a panini of such glorious magnitude that I had to eat it off the back of a lorry that needed to drive backwards into the kitchen – ‘This sandwich is REVERSING.’
And then, as it was still technically lunchtime and therefore mercifully free of any conscience-harrowing connotations of ‘snack,’ I attacked the biscuit cupboard with a feverish voracity that would have shocked anyone had they seen me. I fell foul of that awful moment where you open a packet of biscuits and then can’t fit them into the tin (the need to preserve foodstuffs during lockdown means I’ve become quite adept at finding Tupperware containers and tins to store opened food), and so say to yourself ‘Well, I’ll just have another one, so the packet will be able to fit into the tin,’ which OF COURSE means that any biscuit consumed under such a situation is obviously calorie-free. Imagine my surprise when I found the packet STILL didn’t fit, and I was required to eat MORE biscuits.
Well, Reader, let me tell you – the packet fits now, although admittedly into a much smaller container that I’d originally planned…
Then – coffee.
And afterwards, as I passed the fruit-bowl with its various offerings in differing states of dissolution, I was FAR TOO SATED to need to eat anything else.
Beware, Gentle Reader: lunchtime when working at home is fraught with danger. Resist the beguilement of the biscuit-cupboard: resist…
Continuing the series profiling new Music Performance Scholars and Music Award Holders at the University of Kent. This week, second-year violinist reading Biomedical Science, Jennifer Pang.
When I was seven, my primary school offered all students a choice of 3 instruments; violin, flute, or guitar. I chose the violin by chance, not wanting to choose the guitar like everyone else. Coming from a non-musical family, it was a big surprise to my mum when I kept playing year after year and it became a huge part of my life.
At 7 years old, I took time out of my lunch to have 20 minute group lessons until the end of the year when everyone else had quit and I was getting ready to take my grade 1. The following year there was no one else at the same level in the school, and therefore they did not plan further violin lessons except for beginners. My mum contacted the school to emphasise that it was not a very positive message to a child who had shown commitment and was enjoying music so much. The school compromised, giving me regular 10-15 minute lessons until I left the school 3 years later, having achieved grade 3.
Moving up into secondary school I finally got private lessons, Mrs Rose taught me from 8 years old through to grade 8 at 17 years old. During this time, she had introduced me to the High Wycombe Music Centre (HWMC), where I created music with other young musicians for 10 years. At HWMC I took part in many ensembles, working my way up from the junior string groups to leading the Senior string group and Symphony Orchestra. Here, I found my love for music and ensemble playing; I got involved with as much music as I could, from touring Budapest and Reykjavik with the Buckinghamshire County Orchestra, playing with the English Schools Orchestra and performing wedding gigs with the Cedar String Quartet. I cannot express the gratitude I have for all the teachers and staff who have encouraged and shaped me as a musician and as a person.
When applying for universities I knew that I wanted music to continue to be a big part of my life alongside a Biomedical Science degree. I applied to the University of Kent because I saw that the music department creates music to a very high standard, has its own concert hall and music scholarships! Obtaining a Music Award has allowed me to continue developing as a musician and to produce so much incredible and diverse music. At Kent I am enjoying being part of the Symphony Orchestra and String Sinfonia; and also playing in chamber ensembles to gig at the Law Ball, perform in Calais and play Peter and The Wolf for a children’s concert.
My favourite performance so far, has been playing and broadcasting the atmospheric music of Olafur Arnalds for an empty concert hall in a time of social distancing.
To keep you entertained during lockdown, why not join us for a screening on YouTube Live of a musical adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s classic tale following the adventures of Alice and a cast of wonderful characters ?!
This live performance, recreating a musical adaptation first written for the Victorian stage in 1886, was filmed in Colyer-Fergusson Hall back in February, given by the University Cecilian Choir, soloists and instrumental ensemble; students and staff from across the University community bringing Carroll’s much-loved tale to life for the first time since 1927. Carroll himself was closely involved in the original adaptation, writing verses especially for the production. The film will be premiered on the University’s YouTube Live channel on Friday 22 May at 7pm, and also broadcast at the same time on KMTV.
The cast includes a larger-than-life performance from third-year Drama student and Music Award holder Sophia Lyons in the title role; fourth-year French and Business Studies student and Music Award holder Matt Cooke as a wonderfully eccentric Mad Hatter and a curmudgeonly Mock Turtle; and a White Rabbit brimming with eccentric energy from second-year Robbie Frederick.
To whet your appetites, here’s the Mock Turtle’s aria, Beautiful Soup, in rehearsal, sung by Matt Cooke accompanied by a quartet of instruments arranged especially for the performance by Dan Harding.
Including an imperious Queen of Hearts, a dancing deck of cards and a mischievous Cheshire Cat, in a musical world filled with Victorian charm, step into the forest with us as we present the film of the performance on the University of Kent’s YouTube channel Live at 7pm on Friday 22 May.
Gather your family, friends, housemates, and take a trip into Alice’s world in an adventure for all ages.
Find out more about the production here:
https://gentomfoolery.wixsite.com/aliceatukc
Images from the production (c) University of Kent / Matt Wilson
Continuing the series profiling this year’s Music Performance Scholars and Award holders. This week, postgraduate MSc in Forensic Psychology and violinist, Melody Brooks.
It has officially gotten to the point where I have played violin for 2/3 of my life! Originating from a musical family (hence the name), music has always been a massive part of my life, and university has been no different.
After I gained my Scholarship as a first year (2016), I threw myself into the music department at this university. I joined the Symphony Orchestra and the String Sinfonia, and over the years have played for many smaller groups whenever I was needed.
Being a scholar at Kent has allowed me to fulfil many a musical dream. I always wanted to play in a quartet, and I was blessed to participate in three quartets (for the Law Ball in 2018, the scholar concert in 2019 and for the opening of a new building on the Medway Campus, 2018). I’ve even had the chance to play in a quintet (playing the works of Olafur Arnolds, 2019). I’ve always wanted to play in a different country, and have achieved this in Canada (with the String Sinfonia in 2018) and France (with the University of Kent Camerata, 2019).
I have also dreamed of doing a children’s concert (achieved by playing Peter and the Wolf last year and this year!) and play Handel’s Messiah (played in 2018), and was a part of the premiere of a newly composed piece (Between Worlds, composed by Anna Phoebe).
Alongside the extra-curricular music I did during my undergraduate degree, I also joined the Chineke! Junior Orchestra. This orchestra was founded by Chi-chi Nwanoku for primarily black and minority ethnic (BAME) teens and young adults, some of whom are on their way to (or already attend) conservatoires. I have played with them several times over the past couple of years, and will be performing with them at the Southbank Centre later this month (the 23rd February, 2020). It has been an honour to play with other (incredibly talented) people of colour, and to play the works of so many famous black composers, such as Samuel Coleridge-Taylor and Ignatius Sancho. I have also continued to play and sing regularly at my home church. I also had the privilege of taking part in a live performance of the albums Handel’s Messiah: A Soulful Celebration, as part of the choir. Not only was this a lifelong wish of mine, but allowed me to share a stage with what is perhaps the greatest male singing group of all time: Take 6!
Gaining the scholarship this year led me to achieve a dream I didn’t even know I had: leading the Symphony Orchestra. This is an honour, and has definitely been a challenge! My predecessors were so brilliant, and the thought of filling their shoes was daunting. However, it has gone well so far. The concert in December was simultaneously the most thrilling and anxiety-inducing concert I have ever experienced. Despite the heightened emotions, it was an awesome experience.
