From the technicolour fantasies of Disney to the anarchist trenches…

The London Sinfonietta’s Blue Touch Paper programme nurtures and promotes the next generation of composers and interdisciplinary collaborators by providing the context and space to develop new work. On Wednesday 16 May collaborative works currently being developed by 3 groups of composers and artists on the programme will be showcased in a works-in-progress preview event at Village Underground, Shoreditch.

Composer Steve Potter and writer/dramaturg Kélina Gotman have been working on 100 Combat Troupes, a music-theatre piece which stages the urgency and ambivalence of dreaming other possible worlds.  In the first of a series of blog posts ahead of the event Kélina gives us an update on the progress of 100 Combat Troupes

Paul Klee's Angelus Novus, inspiration for 100 Combat Troupes

24 March. 5.18pm: The first thing to say is that it’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m sitting out back in the newly-refurbished Crystal Palace Tavern (CPT, for short- I always want to call it the Camden People’s Theatre, even though it’s not), and Steve is slaving away at home working on the Rivers of the World sequence – Adam’s scene, the most difficult one.

We had a great session this morning, looking back over the script, which I revised – finally – after procrastinating on it for a week or two. Steve had some comments, and we more or less solved (I think) the Messiah sequence, the last scene. It wasn’t really clear what it was about: what the mood was, or what the point, was, really, either. I think we’ve figured out that it’s a coda, silent (no language), but playful. The actors will be doing very little: sitting at a folding card table, which we need to acquire, or find. Pulling out foldable chairs. Talking like old friends, gesticulating. It’s going to be shorter than we had thought. One minute, rather than four. And end in an 8 second burst of Balkan gypsy music, then nothing. It makes sense, after Adam’s wild scene.

I could say more, but I have 100 to 400 words for this blog post, so will move on to the other thing we figured out this morning, lest I try my reader’s patience, and that’s the Disney sequence, which I think Steve has totally nailed.  We had a rehearsal (or a workshop) with the London Sinfonietta on Monday last week, and I was concerned that the soundscape was too disjointed. There were all kinds of things going on, and it was going to be disruptive, and felt random. Kirstin has a huge, intense, monologue – much of it is gibberish (intentionally so), a childish princess-like patter, a grown-up girl’s fetish dreams of infinite girldom, the disaster land of Disney, and the music was going to make the scene too messy. Confusing. But Steve has found the perfect soundscape: we’re still using the sped-up Swan Lake, as per a momentary flash of inspiration from many months ago, but it’s more audible now; it’s also halting. Like a little girl refusing to grow up, not getting anywhere; the tune blasts for a few seconds, then pause, then starts again, a zillion times. Start stop, it’s perfect as a counterpart to Kirstin’s rapid-fire babble about Aibo (the robot dog), Dorothy, and other things, which I won’t get into right now. Let’s just say that she gets suddenly pissed off, swears at the two other actors, who have hit her (accidentally) in the head with a projectile. The trick was to get the music to turn, but without having it be so violent a shift that we would need 100 more rehearsals to get the timing right. Here, our stopwatch structure will allow Kirstin to fire off her scene (in exactly 2’20’’), while the musicians watch her for their cue – Steve was suggesting we ask David Hockings, the London Sinfonietta’s Principal percussionist, to watch for the shift, and then the music turns – subtly, but definitely, darker.

Next on the to-do list for the day: fire off the revised script to Kaite O’Reilly, who has offered ridiculously useful mentoring so far.  See what she says about the changes.

 Kélina Gotman, writer/dramaturg, 100 Combat Troupes

Five Questions with Andrew Watts

Andrew Watts, countertenor and soloist in In Portrait: Olga Neuwirth talks about Hommage à Klaus Nomi, his ideal musical collage, and who he’d most like to be for a day…

Countertenor Andrew Watts

On Saturday 11 February, you’ll be performing as soloist in Olga Neuwirth’s Hommage à Klaus Nomi.  Can you tell us a little about Nomi’s character and how this influences your approach to the role?

Taking on the persona of someone like Klaus Nomi is almost impossible. Unlike such things as Stars in Your Eyes on the television the role is in no way meant to be an impression of Klaus Nomi  (vocally or in a fashion sense!), it is more an evocation of the times and spirits of the period when Klaus Nomi was singing and performing.

My approach to singing this music is to treat it simply in a classical form even though some of the songs are based in the rock genre. Good singing along with a natural performance style is needed for these songs. The arrangements by Olga Neuwirth are incredible and full of musical nuances and detail.

Klaus Nomi used music to adopt a new persona.  If you could be someone else for a day, who would you choose, and why? 

I am fairly happy with being the person I am but if I were to become a person for the day I think I would like to be the President of the United States of America. I have become obsessed with the TV series The West Wing and carry it with me when away from home singing opera around the world. It is incredibly written and has a real insight into the working of politics in the US.  Being President would give me access in to the most secure building in the world.

Olga Neuwirth has said that she has been intrigued by Klaus Nomi since the age of 13 and “was always a fan of his songs and his personality.”  Which performer or hero, real or imagined, intrigues you?

I guess as a classical singer I am supposed to think of some other singer who has influenced me or who has inspired me. Most of the great singers have had some influence on me; I simply love the human voice. This is my healthy obsession. However if there was a person who intrigues me then I would have to say Diana, Princess of Wales. I had the pleasure of meeting her both publicly and privately and together with the rest of the world I still wonder what went on in her mind behind the smile and the gentle nature.

In Hommage à Klaus Nomi, Olga Neuwirth takes inspiration from 9 Klaus Nomi songs that were originally performed by a great variety of performers.  If you were to create your own musical collage of favourites, what songs would you include?

This list can be endless! Looking at my iPod to see what I listen to all the time, I would include the following; The Carpenters We’ve Only Just Begun; The Weather Girls It’s Raining Men, Elton John’s Candle in the Wind,  Defying Gravity from the musical Wicked This is the Moment from the musical Jekyll and Hyde, Isolde’s Liebestod from Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde, Whitney Houston’s One Moment in Time and anything by Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson.

And finally… in a previous period of his life, Klaus Nomi worked a pastry chef.  If you hadn’t become a musician, what would you be now?

Well I have done many jobs in my time before this music thing took off. I cleaned offices, put the jam in the middle of doughnuts in the local bakery, worked in the local grocers weighting out vegetables, worked in restaurants and pubs, played cocktail piano in a wine bar, and cooked pub food.  I often wonder if I had not been a musician what would I have actually been doing now.

Click here to watch Klaus Nomi on YouTube

And hear to listen to Andrew Watts performing Olga Neuwirth’s Five Daily Miniatures.

Shiva Feshareki reflects on Valentine’s Rhapsody

On Saturday 5 November the London Sinfonietta premiered a selection of chamber works by our Writing the Future composers.  After the event  Shiva Feshareki sent us this blog post about her thoughts on both the concert day and afterwards. Thank you Shiva!

The concert on Saturday 5 November was one of those strange, surreal experiences.  In my opinion, I had the country’s finest instrumentalists on stage ready to perform my piece Valentine’s Rhapsody.  So I was at ease… in that sense. The issue, I must confess, was the feeling of self-doubt.  You see, I had written an extremely personal and difficult piece emotionally, and it is dedicated to someone I love dearly – Valentine Davies – and who has (without exaggeration) saved my life.  I wanted this piece to show a transition, mirroring my life. This is what the piece is about and how Valentine’s impact changed who I am, and for the better.   My doubt was that, on a personal level, this is the most significant piece I have written.  Will it ever have that massive, heart-wrenching impact it had on me whilst thinking and composing it, but in performance? …to others?

I think the conclusion is that one shouldn’t over-think these things (something I have to remind myself every second of everyday).

A) I wrote a piece.
B) I quite literally translated an almost brutal auto-biography.
C) I was honest.
D) The performers respected that honesty.
E) It all represents this eventually positive journey into a short, purposefully understated piece.
F) It was performed better than I could imagine, and it had the opportunity to be heard.

First Conclusion: A+B+C+D+E+F = What more could I want?

Second conclusion: once a piece is written – it is permanent – it does not wither.  So the person the piece was written for will have a permanent reminder of how she helped me, and especially, helped me help myself.  And as for ‘Writing the Future’, quite literally I hope the piece lives on in the future (or at least, I hope that the score of it that I threw into the River Thames off the Embankment Bridge, drifts like a message in a bottle… at least in my thoughts and ponderings).

Thank you to the London Sinfonietta’s Writing the Future for supporting and promoting new music with the same relentless, unique passion as it takes for me to write the music.  This is a relationship that I will cherish, and will inspire me further, both musically and personally.

Click here to  listen to Valentine’s Rhapsody and other Writing the Future works premiered on Saturday 5 November.

 

The Return of Written/Unwritten

In June this year we collaborated with pianist Matthew Bourne in our Written/Unwritten, which involved collaboration between musicians from both notated and non-notated backgrounds.  On Friday 18 November Written/Unwritten returns, and this time we’ll also be joined by experimental percussionist Vladimir Tarasov.  Ahead of the workshops for this event, Matthew tells us a little about his current musical preferences, and reflects on his previous Written/Unwritten experience.

Back in June, you were listening to Shostakovitch’s String Quartet No.13, Peter Gabriel’s eponymous debut album and Ben E. King’s Stand by Me.  What’s on your favoured playlist right now?

Joanna Newsom: Have One on Me, Olivier Messiaen: Catalogue d’Oiseaux, The Fall: Totally Wired – The Rough Trade Anthology, Dirk Bogarde: Lyrics for Lovers

Tell us a little about your previous experience of working with the London Sinfonietta. Is there anything you might do differently this time?

Matthew Bourne in rehearsal

It was a great experience and I learned a lot from the London Sinfonietta players.

I sketched out some rough ideas and took them along to the workshops and we recorded the results. I then decided which sections would be kept or altered, worked on a new piece and finally ordered the sections.This time the line-up is roughly the same so I’ll be sticking quite closely to the original piece albeit a little shorter in duration…

You’re also to be joined by percussionist Vladimir Tarasov.  How do you think this might alter the process and end performance?

I have no idea! It’ll be fun finding out, though.


Check out our blog next week for an update following the first batch of workshops for Written/Unwritten.

Developing the Double Bass Concerto

Enno Senft, soloist in the world premiere of Dai Fujikura’s Double Bass Concerto on 5 November, talks about his close involvement in its composition.

Enno Senft and Dai Fujikura in rehearsal (image © Briony Campbell)

The Double Bass Concerto grew out of a close collaboration between Dai and I.  After  performing two of Dai’s  challenging ensemble pieces, Fifth Station and Blue Sky Falling, I was excited as well as daunted by the idea of him writing a bass concerto for me. We met at my house looking for inspiration for Dai’s creative mind. I first freely demonstrated the instrument’s more conventional characteristics- its timbre, resonance, harmonics, gentle dynamics, and colours in the middle register.  Then I moved to more experimental, extended techniques, for example treating the bass like a big guitar  (many taxi driver’s preferred description of the bass!), using arpeggio chords, fast tremolo and slap effects.

Dai’s lateral approach to the instrument encouraged me to get carried away with suggestions like changing the tuning of the instrument altogether, extreme tremolo effects on high treble harmonics (imitating an electric guitar) and playing both parts of the stopped string. I forgot in this process that Dai videoed all of this, but certainly remembered when the score of his first preliminary solo piece ES  landed on my music stand! This piece introduced many of the ideas that later became the material for the Double Bass Concerto.  Now I faced unprecedented technical challenges, partly brought about by myself!

Subsequently, we worked closely together to find realistic solutions which make musical sense and fit with Dai’s aesthetic language.  In some ways, the new techniques used in the Double Bass Concerto has meant that learning the concerto has been like learning a new instrument.

I believe that Dai has created a truly innovative concerto that tells its own story and well as realising the full potential of the solo double bass.

Enno Senft, London Sinfonietta Principal double bass

Click here to hear extracts of Enno and the London Sinfonietta rehearsing the Double Bass Concerto.