Music to my ears
What the classical world has been listening to this month
Amy Ní Fhearraigh
Soprano As a child, one of my earliest experiences of classical music was Disney’s Fantasia, and particularly the section telling the story of the dinosaurs accompanied by Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. Fast forward 15 years to music history classes at university, and I was initially baffled as to why I recognised the opening bassoon motif before putting two and two together. It’s become a beloved piece of mine – I love Stravinsky’s jarring rhythms and punctuation, and his style opened the way for me growing to love more unconventional music.
Though I love hard-hitting music, in my downtime I do need something a little more pleasant and uplifting. One of my favourite works is Brahms’s Liebeslieder Waltzes Op. 52, and especially
No. 6, which is such a delightful little piece – though very short and simple, it’s so gorgeous. I really don’t think you can beat the Deutsche Grammophon recording with Brigitte Fassbaender, Dietrich
Fischer-dieskau and all. These singers are the real cornerstones of the repertoire, and it is all so polished yet still joyous and fun.
Towards the end of my degree, I became obsessed by Shostakovich, and was completely in awe of how he used music to communicate what was happening in his homeland as well as cleverly divulging his political views. His Fourth Symphony has this wouldbe heroic but sarcastic moment – it’s brash and garish, and I find it almost wonderfully distressing. It’s so brave. My favourite recording is conducted by Rudolf Barshai. He knew the composer personally, so I feel my love of Shostakovich is in safe hands.
And also…
When I first saw the title of
Benjamín Labatut’s When We Cease to Understand the World,
I thought it was a self-help book so wasn’t keen. However, it is phenomenal. It deals with the very complex relationship between genius and madness, and specifically in the context of science and war. It’s written in a very accessible manner, however, and unfolds almost like a novel even though it is factual. It blew my mind and had me asking all sorts of existential questions.
Amy Ní Fhearraigh appears in ‘Least Like the Other’ at the Linbury Theatre, ROH, on 15-19 January
Timothy Chooi Violinist
I’ve been revisiting my childhood, and how and why I decided to take up the violin. Sarah Chang’s album Debut was a big inf luence on me. Sarah was nine years old when the album was released – I got into the violin at around the same age. I grew up in a fairly small town in Canada, and there weren’t many opportunities to see violinists, but Sarah’s debut at London’s Wigmore Hall was broadcast on the PBS channel. That was my inspiration to start playing.
I am loving Chen Jun Hua’s album of songs played on the erhu, a traditional Chinese stringed instrument, and in particular the track ‘Sunshine on Tashkurgan’. I am a huge fan of folk music from all over the world. After all, classical music itself is often a representation of native folk musics. I must admit that I had
I became obsessed by Shostakovich and in awe of how he used music to communicate
never really listened to Chinese classical music before, but this album opened my ears to a whole new world of music.
I’m really enjoying Michael Jackson’s Thriller album – and particularly the track ‘Beat It’. I think Jackson is one of the most amazing artists who has ever lived. When I first saw him perform, I realised that music could be so much more than just a song.
That’s when I grasped the difference between a musician and an artist. A musician plays the notes, but for an artist there is so much more: emotion, storytelling, atmosphere. The music is just the medium.
And also…
I’m obsessed with aircraft mechanics. I love catching up with the latest designs from Airbus, Boeing, Bombardier and others. I feel there must be links between the mechanics of aviation and music. Both start as a concept, then they get built (or rehearsed). After that, there is a lot of testing, learning and innovating before each one can take flight.
Timothy Chooi performs with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra in Liverpool (19 Jan) and Gateshead (20 Jan)
Elisabeth Brauss Pianist
I’m playing Bacewicz’s
Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra soon, and I’ve been listening to it a lot – not so much about learning my part, but more about understanding what is going on in the orchestra. It’s fantastic music, very original and full of colour and rhythm, but a very tricky piece. There is a great recording on Youtube by Jerzy Maksymiuk and Jerzy Witkowski which has the score to follow while listening.
I’ve also been listening on Youtube to Nina Simone’s ‘I Wish I Knew How it Would Feel to be Free’, live from Montreux in 1976. For me, it’s always great not only to listen, but to see her perform. When I see her, it teaches me something about freedom in music and the risks that are worth taking. She is just so incredible in that way and as a classical musician I really think I can learn a lot from her.
I was recently introduced to Konnakol, which is a kind of traditional Indian vocal percussion. I was sent a video of a duet by a young woman and man; I’m sure I must have listened to it 50 times already! There’s a lot of precision and concentration, but also communication through music; when you see them they are completely free and relaxed in their movement, but incredibly precise in their results. I really feel like I could learn from that.
And also…
I recently watched No Fear, Regina Schilling’s film about Igor Levit (below). She followed him for the past three years and while it was not planned to be a film about Covid, it turned out to be a document of that time. It shows how Igor deals with the situation, how he finds new concepts for concerts and a new motivation for going on stage. Elisabeth Brauss performs Grieg with the Hallé in Manchester (26 Jan) and Nottingham
(27 Jan)