Lauren Redhead

The Final Performance and the End of the Project in Grimsby

The date for the first performance of my piece, Grimsby Psalter, finally arrived on Saturday 28th April. After much anticipation, experimenting with the choir in rehearsals, researching Grimsby to find the material for the piece, working hard with the choir on the sound and on learning the music, and much discussion and reflection, this felt like a momentous event even as I approached Grimsby in the cold and the rain on Saturday morning.

The event was held in Grimsby’s central hall and I arrived to hear the choir rehearsing the whole programme, including my piece. My mentor, David Horne, was also there for the afternoon rehearsal and together we commented on how well the choir had got to grips with the music, and how great it was going to sound in the hall. I had some slight anticipation about the audience for the evening - would they like the contemporary piece that I had written? Would they find the subject matter as relevant as I had hoped? Before the concert I also spent some time talking to the BBC about the process and my reflections on it.

When the time came for the concert to begin, I sat nervously in the hall. Not only did I have the music to think about, but also the responsibility of introducing the piece to the (really quite large) audience in the hall. I had planned my introduction in advance, and here it is in full:

“When I found out I would be working with Grimsby Philharmonic Choir on a project as part of the Making Music ‘Adopt a Composer’ scheme, it meant the fulfilment of a long-held ambition to write for a large choir. As a young teenager I had gone with my parents to watch the premiere of a brand new work performed by Sale Choral Society and, although I now cannot remember the name of the work or its composer, I remember being impressed both by the contemporary nature of the music they performed and the performance of the choir as a group. As a result I had always hoped to make a similar work, but more than 10 years later had still not found the opportunity, until Grimsby Phil came along…

“Writing this piece for the Phil also gave me the chance to explore another area of interest: the history of communities and places, and its link with the identities of the people who live there. At the beginning of the project I researched the mediaeval, Victorian, and 20th Century history of Grimsby and found that there are many fascinating things about the town that many people in and outside of the North East are unaware of. I’ve written a little bit about these in the programme note, and much of the history has made it into the piece, so I don’t want to spoil the surprise!

“I have worked with the choir in order to develop the ideas in the piece, and try things out along the way. The music that I have written is somewhat different from the usual repertoire of the choir, but showcases all of the different skills and possibilities that they have as a group of performers. The dedication shown by the choir in learning this piece, as well as their skill and accomplishment in performing it, is evidence of the versatility of the choral society, their musical abilities, and their commitment to the music that they perform. For all of these things I am extremely grateful.

“For me this project has been a learning experience, but one in which I have been able to learn not just about the choral society but about the community that they live in and the individual stories of the people who live in Grimsby today and have done so in the past. This has shown me that this history, and the community, is something to be celebrated, and what better way to do this than by the occasion of this concert?

“I am proud and pleased to dedicate this work to the choir, and appreciative for what will be their excellent performance of it.”

The performance that I had heard of the music in the rehearsal had been the best performance by the choir so far. As a result I had high expectations, but even these were surpassed! The energy of the performance was shared with all in the hall, and the choir captured all of the textures, moods and atmospheres of the piece expertly. The audience reaction to this was extremely warm: not only did many people tell me that they had enjoyed the music and the performance, but that choir really communicated the local subject matter to everyone in the room and this encouraged them to share their own memories of Grimsby, and associations made through the piece, with me.

The local press present also enjoyed the concert very much, and gave us an excellent write-up, here.

I’d like to express my thanks to Susan Hollingworth, the choir’s conductor, and all of the performers who took part in the performance; there is nothing better than the performers themselves telling you how much they enjoyed being involved in your music, I’d also like to thank my mentor, David, who guided me on so many aspects of the project and helped me even down to small editorial details of my score. And I would like to thank Making Music and the PRS for Music Foundation for all of their input and for organising the project. This has been a wonderful experience for me, and I would highly recommend it to anyone who is thinking of applying in the future.

The Capitalist Cult of the Contemporary Composer?

In this post I intend to compare two events that I have attended, and to discuss some of the problems arising from them. In themselves they may seem to be isolated events, or the result of a specific phenomenon, but my reason for wishing to highlight this is that I believe they actually reveal some reasons to be concerned for the future for musicological research, or perhaps all arts research (or maybe all research - but I’m not informed enough about science to comment). The two events that I want to discuss are the celebrations of the composer Brian Ferneyhough in 2011 in London, and the linked academic activities, and the celebrations of the composer Conlon Nancarrow in 2012 (and in fact which are ongoing). Both events had a significant commercial element, and in many ways represent a significant step forward for the UK in promoting contemporary music outside of its usual audience. This, I believe, is a positive thing. It is the relationship with scholarship that I wish to critique here.

I am finding that being an academic is something which is increasingly politicised. Although in the past I would have recognised the relationship between academia and politics, I would have also imagined that some research might be taking place that was not influenced by, or interacting with, politics. Today I would acknowledge that all work as a researcher (unless it takes place in private, using private resources, and is never communicated to anyone) is a public act and therefore politicised by its very nature. And therefore I also realise that I am taking a political position in writing this post, but I at least feel comfortable in the fact that I am able to make that announcement, and endorse the political position I am taking.

In contrast to this, that which I would like to discuss here seems to me to be evidence of a political imposition in musicology, and one which is perhaps more difficult to resist or to criticise for a number of reasons. My position is that being honest about these problems from their outset makes them visible, and hopefully up for discussion. And these policies of openness and discussion should surely be at the heart of any research community.

I attended the beginning of the Conlon Nancarrow symposium at the Southbank Centre. I had my reservations about the event, mainly because I am suspicious of author-centred narratives and of putting any ideas or music on a pedestal. Despite this I tried to have an open mind, and wanted to be proven wrong. Nancarrow’s music potentially yields very many points for discussion and things that I have never even considered, and I was hoping that the symposium would give me an opportunity to consider those things. Overall, I found the day difficult and frustrating, after trying to engage with most of what was presented on a neutral level I found it impossible. I recognise that as an undergraduate student I might have found learning biographical details of Nancarrow and analytical details his works interesting and stimulating, but my final opinion was that the event did not sincerely promote the academic discussion or consideration Nancarrow’s music might imply.

I wrote a little about the Ferneyhough day at the time, and, although I was unable to attend the whole of the event, raised some concerns. Since the event itself I have been able to reflect on the further reports that came from it: the main criticism in the musicological community seems to have been that the speakers presented well-known and already-published positions (and so in effect were all known quantities - there was no danger of any ‘radical’ musicology taking place). This limited the academic scope and interest of the event. Nevertheless the event was populated by academics, composers and musicians (mostly male) with an interest in Ferneyhough, and there seemed some potential for interesting discussion amongst the delegates if not in the academic sessions.

For me the worrying trend of this type of event is revealed particularly with respect to the academic components of the events. The Nancarrow retrospective is a similar setup - a weekend of various musical events with a linked conference. Below, I’ll compare some important aspects of the two events to explain the problems that they yielded:

Where?.
The Ferneyhough symposium took place in Senate House, linked to the IMR (Institute for Musical Research). This venue is used for many IMR events and the location linked the event with a history of musicological investigation, although perhaps arguably positioned the academic investigations as separate from the commercial concerts.
The Nancarrow event took place on the Southbank and perhaps addressed the issue of bringing the academics closer to the actual event. The sessions themselves took place in a room at the top of the building at the Royal Festival Hall, thus keeping them safely put of the way of anyone who might stumble across them, or even realise they were taking place. Therefore, in effect these sessions were less ‘visible’ to the musical community at large than the Ferneyhough event was.

Price and funding?.
The Ferneyhough event was free. It was funded and well publicised by the IMR. Some catering and break-out space was available, and the day ended with a concert.
The Nancarrow event cost £15 per day. There was no catering (no-one was even offered so much as a cup of tea!) and compared with the Ferneyhough event the days were short with few speakers. The registration fee seems even higher considering one of the sessions on the Saturday was spent watching a film that was being offered free to the general public. I was given further cause to wonder how the registration price had been arrived at when it was revealed that the IMR had given financial support to the event, which in itself had been badly publicised (i.e. not at all).
This issue might seem an odd one to bring up, but in the current financial climate many people are seeing their research expenses diminishing or disappearing. Therefore value for money when attending academic conferences is an important consideration for those attending events, as it should be for those organising them.

When?.
The Ferneyhough symposium took place in the run-up to the weekend of concerts. It was on a weekday, which may have prevented some from attending.
The Nancarrow symposium took place on a Saturday and Sunday. However, it was scheduled directly opposite the free concerts in which all of Nancarrow’s studies for player piano were performed. A large number of potential delegates were probably lost to these, and indeed many who attended in the morning did not return in the afternoon, likely because they were attending the concerts. Furthermore, this clash suggests that the organisers of the symposium perhaps believed that the academic audience would be uninterested in the music they study, and therefore not tempted away to listen to the music (which is a little worrying).

Who speaks?.
I’ve already addressed some of the speakers at the Ferneyhough day, but it is fair to say that the speakers did cover aesthetics, historical positions, composition and performance with respect to Ferneyhough’s music.
The speakers at the Nancarrow day who had submitted papers offered some perceptual and aesthetic comments. Those invited (making up most of the small, almost exclusively male, audience) were primarily people who had known Nancarrow personally. While their perspectives are undoubtedly valuable, and should be documented, they do not make up the total of what can be known about Nancarrow, which seemed to be the assumption in the room. The discourse around the composer contained much repetition of words which should be considered to have little value in an academic conference: ‘genius’ came up repeatedly, and when any tentative suggestions for analysis or development of performance were asked, ‘What would Nancarrow have thought?’ directed at one of those who had known him, quickly shut down the conversation. Questions after the papers remained in the safe territory of ‘what software did you use to produce your musical examples?’ rather than straying into the dangerous terrain of academic critique.

(On the whole, Nancarrow came off rather well - a man interested in the experimental aspects of his work who would have been less than interested by the hero-worship and nostalgia that surrounded the conference.)

Conclusions

Its fair to say that not everything that was said at the conference was an utter disaster. My personal preference for aesthetics means that I most enjoyed Alistair Zaldua’s paper on the links that could be made between Nancarrow and Benjamin, Auslander, and Agre. (In this spirit of full disclosure I should also write that I know Alistair well). Charles Amirkhanian’s talk which started the day also set the scene well and chartered the territory in which a retrospective of Nancarrow in London had been made possible, as well as providing some interesting Nancarrow soundbites. And Trimpin’s explanation of how he came to use Nancarrow’s work and ideas in his own installations was also informative. But on the whole the lack of discussion and the narrow scope, particularly when considered as a development of the atmosphere at the Ferneyhough symposium, is worrying. It seems to me that some historiography of these composers and these events needs to be done in order to prevent the study of contemporary music and composers being limited in the way that it seems to have been this weekend.

But why should this signal that it would be limited? I’ll admit that just two events is a rather small sample, and that these are rather special or unique types of events at that. Other discussion on this blog shows I have been to many interesting and useful conferences, and often come away from them feeling inspired in my research. Some disappointing events are inevitable. But it is the commercial background in which these events are situated that worries me. In the current climate there is pressure from the government that funding for research should come from the private sector, and these events represent the only such types that I have experienced. Indeed, in particular the Nancarrow symposium seemed to mirror the government’s curiously negative view of academics: that they are out of sight, engaging in work of little consequence, and removed from event the events or objects that they are studying.

This blog is called ‘the capitalist cult of contemporary composers’ not just for reasons of alliteration: the succession of these retrospective events is evidence that contemporary composers and music have been found to be in some way profitable. I very much doubt that the Southbank would continue to host such events if they weren’t. And the inclusion of the academic components serves two ideals: first, it makes money (since I doubt it really cost £15 per delegate per day, plus IMR funding to host the symposium), and second it validates the event by promoting an academic legacy along the lines of hero-worship of the featured composers. I don’t question that composers such as Ferneyhough and Nancarrow are important and worthy of study, but my worry is that these events prevent the critical engagement an academic event should foster. To me, this shows that private, rather than public, investment in research can be in the business of preventing interesting results rather than encouraging them.

Let’s have more composer retrospectives, of course, but let’s have real academic discussion about them as well. The legacy of the 20th century won’t be damaged by engaging with it.

The final countdown to the concert in Grimsby…

Last night I attended a rehearsal of the Grimsby Philharmonic Choir for what will be the penultimate time before the concert on the 28th April. The final rehearsal that I will attend will be on the afternoon of the concert, so at that point the moment will be upon us and there will be little opportunity for any changes.

I was looking forward to hearing the choir singing the work, particularly since my mentor – David Horne – had attended a rehearsal before Easter and made a video which showed just how well the choir were getting on with the piece. Even though the work is tailored to the choir, it also has some very difficult passages, and all the singers have worked extremely hard to learn these. Even though I was feeling very positive and hopeful about what I would hear, I wasn’t prepared for just how great the choir were able to make the opening of the piece sound. The very opening phrases are designed to invite the audience in and to want to know more about the piece, and the choir performed this for me beautifully!

It was also great to hear some comments from the members of the choir that they were now able to visualise the piece as a whole, and enjoy the different aspects of their parts, as a result of learning the music through the rehearsal process, and this gave me a chance to reflect on how much I have enjoyed working with the choir as well. Hearing the piece in the rehearsal I even began to notice more things about the music than I remembered writing!

If you would like to attend, the concert will be at 7.30pm at the Central Hall in Grimsby, on 28th April.
Tickets are available on the door, or from the box office.

Is it ethical to write opera today?

Below is a script that I wrote to speak around at the Leeds opera conference on the 14th June. I’m looking at all sorts of issues which intersect with the general theme of music and power at the moment. These intersect with gender, ethnicity/nationality, institutions, and the way that art is made and received in society. Any issues of power have an ethical dimension. And so when asked to speak about opera today, and what important concerns there might be for composers today, these ethical questions seemed an obvious choice. This is a provocation - so intentionally short and designed to spark debate, although at the conference it seemed to make sense with the practice of all those present. This further confirms to me that these are important questions in contemporary practice.

The questions I want to address are: What are the ethical issues involved in writing opera?
If there are ethical issues does this mean that everyone shouldn’t be allowed to compose they way they want?
How can we tell from their practice that composers are concerned with these ethical issues?

Is it ethical to write opera today? This might, to some, seem an odd question. After all, why would it be unethical to write opera? There are many arguments made that place art and music beyond ethics. However, I think that those are naïve arguments: the decision to make art in a particular way is itself a political decision, the statement of an ideology. This is because by making and presenting art, the creative artist aligns herself with institutions and audience groups, even if these are of her own making (e.g. by self-publishing). So the question of whether creating opera is ethical in the present day is an important one (and I should make clear that I am addressing this question from the position of someone who has written an opera).

What are the ethical issues involved?

In answering this question, it seems very clear to me that it depends what is meant by ‘opera’. ‘Opera’ is a synecdoche for a huge variety of music, productions, attitudes, companies, and processes. But the historical connotations of the word are certainly problematic: for many the term ‘opera’ implies an ageing audience, a body of works aimed at a social elite, stuffy concert etiquette and a whole host of behaviours which result in the exclusion of new audiences, a lack of musical or theatrical experimentation, and (in the UK at least) the concentration of funding in London to further limit the kinds of experimental work which can be produced. Even where contemporary works are showcased, their attendance can be closely guarded which implies that opera itself is considered an art form for a particular social group, as the ticket prices for shows (and the limited performances in London) linked to the “investment” in contemporary opera for the Olympics in London this year seem to give testament to.

The financial implications of writing and producing opera also throw up some ethical issues. Writing opera is expensive in terms of creative hours, and composers and librettists are rarely compensated in line with the time spent writing and producing the work, whilst diminished funds from the arts council and other cultural projects means that institutions who can afford to commission opera are confined to reduced budgets and faced with large costs for performers, space, sets and equipment. Meeting audience expectations is therefore of much importance in order to keep these institutions running at all, let alone producing contemporary works. So are the institutions which make opera possible either forcing composers and performers to subscribe to an historical ideology, or else are they given no choice but to subscribe to that ideology themselves in order to be able to survive financially and to produce work at all? I think that institutions are not entirely to blame, although understating and working with these constraints is important for creative artists to produce innovative, and not merely commercial, works.

If there are ethical issues does this mean that everyone shouldn’t be allowed to compose they way they want?

Not at all.
But it means that since art is a public act, it interacts with the power structures that allow art to be publicly available, whether those are to do with funding or performance structures. And it’s important that the debate as to whether perpetuating those power structure is necessary, effective, or, indeed, ethical is equally as public.
For me, this links with the question ‘who is contemporary art for?’ Existing audience expectations may not be the best gauge for this, since art that is for ‘them’ is not developing either the reach and impact of contemporary opera, nor the genre itself. I, personally, believe that contemporary art has a duty to connect with audiences and react to society - a duty that is not necessarily fulfilled by meeting the demands of audiences. This doesn’t suppose a compositional style but it does suppose an engagement with the question. The word ‘relevant’ is often used here. Making opera relevant is not necessarily a case of searching for a modern storyline. But it is a case of searching for a direct communication with audiences that is not necessarily achieved by the distance between the audience and the traditional, staged, historical opera performance.

And so the recent contemporary compositional trend for opera seems counter intuitive: many postwar composers did not engage with opera as it seemed obsolete, or else only wrote operas at the peak of their careers when large commission fees were available. Yet today younger composers choose to write opera despite the apparent financial and ethical issues. Some explanations include that there might actually be more funding available for their works when they engage with other disciplines and arenas than just instrumental composition in the concert hall, and that the dramatic context of opera is attractive over the relatively static context of orchestral music. However, many contemporary works do not fit into the historical ideological model of opera that I earlier outlined, and this suggests that creative artists are actively changing the opera landscape. Indeed,this may even be their motivation for engaging with the genre.

How can we tell that composers are concerned with these ethical issues?

Composers today demonstrate that a rethinking of opera is needed, and that this rethinking is taking place in terms of the composition, production, and dissemination of opera. Indeed, there has been much debate as to whether opera is even the correct word to describe some contemporary works, due to their removal from the historical and ideological context of opera, and some composers use ‘music theatre’ or ‘music drama’ as a preference. The re-thinking of the opera-context includes new attitudes to the roles of female characters, to the involvement, placement, and interaction with the audience, a theatrical move away from Plato and towards more post-dramatic outcomes, and an articulation of the collaborative effort required in making opera with more focus on the company as well as the creators. It is to do with the re-thinking of the available power-relations between operatic subjects, between the composer and the musicians/company, between the performers and the audience, between the institutions and the works, and between established and new audiences.

This contemporary attitude suggests that many composers may have come to the decision that it is not ethical to write ‘historical’ opera today, since such works perpetuate attitudes which continue to diminish audience numbers and leave companies who produce works struggling for funding. Opera composers in the 21st century actively chose non-concert hall locations, non-conventional musical structures and ensembles, and use available media in non-operatic ways. The term ‘opera’ seems to have become a placeholder for works that are musical and dramatic, but aside from that cannot be readily predicted by a label. And in doing this, the works and their composers make clear that there is a debate about the power structures within opera (and, indeed, in classical music) to be had. When composers actively disengage with these power structures and produce their work regardless of them, they come up for debate.

So ethics for opera are a rethinking of the genre, a commitment to audience development on the behalf of artists as well as companies, in order to produce works that are relevant to contemporary society, and a rejection of traditionalist attitudes. In this respect, many contemporary operatic works seem to have little in common with the historical model that might be associated with the term.This consideration, and move away from simply reproducing the context and ideology of past works is the ethical consideration for artists. Most important is that opera seems no longer a genre that is considered by composers to be beyond ethical consideration.