My annual cri de coeur

Now, I realise that I wrote a post on this subject last year, and I don’t want to repeat myself too much (because it’s a sign of age); but my friend and class assistant David Waterman and I have recently suffered the annual torment of having to choose between candidates for our Easter class at IMS Prussia Cove, and I want to refine and enlarge upon the advice I gave last year for young musicians preparing audition tapes.

Our task is really pretty hopeless: we have to choose just a few participants from a large list, and we know that we’re going to refuse many fine players, with whom it would be a pleasure to work. That’s a given. But it’s doubly frustrating, because we know that it’s not a level playing field; and despite our best efforts, we cannot make it into one. Some players send edited recordings – from commercial CDs, even – of the highest audio quality, often with excellent orchestras; whereas others send ones that sound as if they were recorded with an out-of-tune upright piano in a basement kitchen. We both like to think that we can hear quality beyond recorded sound; but it’s mighty hard, and I’m sure we do miss it in some cases. It’s impossible! Recently, I played at a memorial service for the father of a friend of mine. I played the Prelude from Bach’s 1st suite; despite the fact that I’ve been playing it since I was ten, I worked hard for it, because I didn’t want to let down my friend with an unprepared performance. I do think that in the event it spoke to people, and that it went as well as I could have hoped. Afterwards, however, another friend played me a recording she’d made on her phone from the gallery of the church. It sounded awful! Even though, as I said, I don’t think it WAS awful – the phone distorted it. The point is that no way would I have got into my own class with that recording, just because of the quality. So my first piece of advice to anyone making an audition tape is to make sure that you have a fine audio recording. Some music schools offer this facility – hopefully most do, or will shortly (they should). Alternatively, in this day and age of widely accessible high-end equipment, there may well be someone you know who would do it for you as a favour. For anyone who just can’t afford or arrange such a recording – at least make sure that you’re not sitting on top of the microphone, or miles from it. And before you send off the tape, listen to it; there’s no way it’ll be perfect – there’s no such thing – but you have to decide, putting yourself in the listener’s shoes, whether it’s a fair representation of your playing. If it isn’t, try again.

Then – choice of repertoire: I still felt that many people made mistakes here.

1) Some people sent performances of etudes by Piatti, Popper, Paganini, etc. I don’t dislike this music – far from it; but I would never choose to work on it in a class, therefore it’s somewhat irrelevant for such a tape. (I may not be representative here; but I suspect that I am.) For such a class – or for a competition, or whatever – one tends to assume that the player can get around the instrument, so one doesn’t need proof in this form; it’s the personality, the approach to music, that are of interest – and that won’t be properly conveyed by etudes, no matter how well played.

2) Solo Bach is risky. If you feel that it is really your strongest area, and if you want to play it in the class, well: so be it. But if you’ve been taught, or have thought out, a special ‘theory’ about it and want to show that off – hmmm…perhaps not the best idea. I am not the only one, by any means, who gets put off by performances of Bach that go against my personal grain, even though I try to listen sympathetically. (I remember that on one of the very few occasions that I have been part of a jury – when I was in my 20s, I think – another jury member was Amaryllis Fleming, an older cellist who specialised in Bach. Every time an unfortunate young player would start playing a suite, her face would mould itself into a disgusted mask of disapproval, accompanied by a vigorous shake of the head. I try not to be like that; but I think that almost everyone reacts in quite an extreme fashion to Bach, no matter how open-minded we may try to be.)

3) If possible, bear in mind who is going to hear the recording. I noticed that a lot of people sent recordings of Schumann, about my passion for whom I speak constantly. Maybe a good idea in my particular case – although also perhaps a slight risk, since I obviously would have such strong ideas on his music. (Fewer people sent tapes of the Faure sonatas, though – a pity.) But many players sent recordings of contemporary works which I don’t know – plus little else; that made it really hard to judge the playing accurately. Of course, there is also the interest factor of hearing works one doesn’t know; but then the recording must be balanced with more familiar music.

Then – the rest: we always start by listening to the recording, before looking at the application forms; and the playing is what basically decides the issue of who will get into the class. But if there are borderline cases – which there often are – the forms become more important. The age (with some younger players, we have the feeling that they’ll have other chances in the future, so tend to go for older ones); the repertoire to be presented in class – I don’t want to be stuck teaching works which I don’t feel I understand; and – particularly – the recommendations. We get many, many recommendations from teachers raving about what spectacular progress the student has made under their (the teacher’s) guidance; we do tend to take those with the merest hint of salt… But in other cases, when the main teacher listed on the form hasn’t sent in a recommendation, that always strikes us as a bit odd. There may be all sorts of explanations, of course; but it’s worth trying to get your most recent professor to write something. And then, over the years, we’ve occasionally received so-called ‘recommendations’ actually discouraging us from accepting that student – sometimes in thinly veiled terms. That is mean, I must say; but it does give us an uneasy feeling – no-one wants a difficult person in their class. So – do make sure that you ask the right person to write on your behalf; and if possible, look at it, and make sure it’s encouraging (but not too exaggerated – that also engenders suspicion).

Well, that’s my extended re-apology to the many fine players whom, for whatever reasons, we’ve had to reject this year. But don’t be discouraged; we’ve made so many mistakes in the past – they’re impossible to avoid. And maybe bear in mind the above hints for the future?

On which note – a Happy, Healthy, Fulfilling and Creative New Year to all!