Meet the composer - Steve Marshall

The recorder world is such a varied one, with people who enjoy our instrument in many different ways - players, composers, makers and more. I’ve had the privilege of working with some wonderful musicians and I’d love to be able help you get to know them better too.

I’m starting this occasional series of interviews with someone I’ve known for over twenty years - the composer, Steve Marshall. I’m lucky enough to count Steve as a good friend, and it’s been an honour and a privilege to be the first recipient of many of his compositions and arrangements. I’m very grateful to Steve for taking so much time and care in answering my questions - I’ve learnt a lot from them and I hope you’ll enjoy them too!

Several of Steve’s compositions and arrangements have made it into my library of recorder consort videos over the last couple of years and I’m grateful for his generosity in allowing me to share the music with you. I hope knowing more about his approach to music may encourage you to explore them further - all of them can be found here.

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Please would you tell us about your background? Have you always worked in music?  

There have been three major threads in my life:

1. My love of mathematics from a very early age, eventually leading to a maths degree, and then to a career in finance.

2. My love of music beginning at around 14.

3. My love of a very special person. You may now all say 'ahhh'!  

I grew increasingly fed up that the time I could spend on music was being squeezed by a demanding job in finance, and so at the tender age of 50 I took a (very) early retirement. Ann continued paid work, while I launched May Hill Edition, composed like crazy, and tried to make some sort of living out of it.

A small selection of the music published by May Hill Edition - green covers for Steve’s pieces and yellow for those by Ann Marshall, who is also a prolific composer.

How did you start to compose?  

At school there were only four of us doing Art O-level, and only me doing both Art and Mathematics. We had our own small art room, and we were allowed to bring music tapes into our room, as long as we played them quietly. One day someone brought in a tape of an album by the jazz trumpeter Miles Davis. I had never heard anything like it before, and I was absolutely fascinated.  

Within a very short time, four of us started improvising music together (at home, not at school!), and soon after that I started to put some structure to the improvisations, unsurprisingly following the example of Miles Davis. For the rest of my time at school I continued to develop what the quartet was doing, and we ended up as a school partly-improvising big band (completely independent of the staid 'proper' music teaching at the school).  

That was what happened, but a very reasonable question from non-composers would be how could someone with no music background start improvising music, and putting structure to the improvisations? And I'm afraid that I don't really know. I could effortlessly come up with melodies, and appropriate chords and rhythms. And I hesitate to say this, but for a long time I assumed that everybody could do these things. I like to think that I was modest and self-effacing about these unearned skills, but I suspect that I often wasn't.

 

How (if at all) has your composing changed over the years?  

My compositions, beginning with those I wrote at school, have tended to be strongly influenced by the (diverse) music groups in which I was playing at the time. And hence by the musical styles those groups favoured, and by the composers writing in those styles. Let's make a tour of the music I have been involved with over the years – a fairly brief tour, I promise! 

At University, I was invited to join a jazz-rock band, writing their material and playing saxophone. Up to this point my music had not been conventionally notated, but I got the hang of it quite quickly.

Sometime later, I started classical guitar lessons, and soon turned up at a lesson with a guitar piece that I had written. My teacher said that it was good, but that I probably needed to do music O-level, which I did when I was 26, then taking A-level at 28. I particularly loved formal music theory. Around this time I began composition lessons. 

In my mid-thirties I was in a jazz band, a large choir, a chamber choir and an opera group. I cannot begin to understand how I could have fitted in all of these. And at the same time I was having jazz composition lessons, and composing for all of the groups with which I was involved. Yes, I even wrote a three-act opera, and this was in the days when all music was hand-written!    

When I was nearing 40, we moved to work in France. Before long I was playing in a pop group, writing the music for the expat pantomime, and singing in two choirs (sight-reading tenors always seem to be in demand). We also had an interesting 'storytelling group', for which I wrote the music. 

Ten years later, at the age of 50, we returned to England. I joined a choir and played in a jazz big band. And that was when I became involved in the world of recorders (I'll get to that soon). I also joined a group playing contemporary music, playable by amateurs. Again, I composed for all of these ensembles. 

I said earlier that I have composed for every group with which I have been involved, and so it is not surprising that my musical style is difficult to pin down, and that I am today rarely short of a musical idea. 

Finally, I was fascinated by a Postgraduate Diploma in Music, which I gained in 2015. It was a musicology degree, which did not directly involve composition, but it was most interesting and I learned a lot about music in general.

Steve conducting a recorder orchestra

How did you come to the recorder?

When we returned to England, we lived in a flat in Bristol for a year. My main instrument at the time was the saxophone – far too loud for a flat. I happened to have bought a tenor recorder many decades earlier, although I hadn't used it much. I dug it out, had a look on the internet, and found that there was some organisation called the Society of Recorder Players with a branch in Bristol, and they had a meeting the following day. The rest, as they say, is history.

 

Do you play other instruments too?

I have always been interested in instruments, have played some tolerably well, and tinkered with others. So I still have (and occasionally play) saxophones, classical guitar, vibraphone, Theramin (two actually) and bass clarinet. I also still sing. I did love playing the tuba for a few months, but I'm afraid that the time required to become a good player would probably be more than the time remaining to me!

Steve as soloist, playing the tubax (subcontrabass saxophone) with the Thames Valley Recorder Orchestra in 2015

As someone for whom composing doesn’t come naturally, I’m always interested to understand what drives composers to create. Do you tend to write new pieces spontaneously, or do you prefer to write to commission?

I usually write 'to commission', whether or not for money. Sometimes I write without a commission, but then I tend to have a group (or type of group) in mind.

I do occasionally write something just for myself, usually either (1) to explore some compositional feature (such as double fugue or atonality) or (2) to arrange a piece I like, especially when it is difficult music to arrange – the original may, for example, involve instruments that are quirky or have a large range.

One of the things I find overwhelming with composition is knowing where to begin. How do you start a new piece? Do you begin with a theme and see where it leads you, or do compositions tend to be fairly well formed in your mind before you think about putting pen to paper?

I start a new piece by trying to be clear about who is likely to be playing it. That gives me an idea of how difficult to make the music, what sort of music will find favour, and how long the piece should be.

I often spend some time blocking out what is likely to happen, especially if it's a more formal piece (such as a minuet) or extra-especially if it's a multi-movement piece. But even when blocking out, I never ignore a good tune that presents itself, even though I may eventually store it for future use. Sometimes I don't block out at all, instead preferring to welcome some tune that just pops up and – yes – I then see where it leads me.

Whatever my approach to developing a piece, I am in the fortunate position of having been involved in a wide variety of musical ensembles, and I don't need to wait long before some musical idea occurs. But don't be too impressed - you get pretty good at anything after more than 50 years of constant practice!

Incidentally, there is a little trick that I use quite a lot. When we are going somewhere in the car, and it's raining, that is a prime occasion for coming up with tunes and/or rhythms. Those windscreen wipers make a great rhythmic framework for dreaming up music, and that's why I always keep some manuscript paper in the car, just in case some timeless classic occurs to me.

 

I’d love to know if you have particular favourite pieces of music which you return to listen to regularly, or are you a musical magpie - always on the lookout for shiny new music!

I think that the answer is both. I have always been much more a composer and player than a listener, but there is music I listen to for enjoyment. For some reason, almost all of this music was written later than 1900.

I do have 'old favourites' such as the jazz-influenced and rock-influenced music of Miles Davis, Nucleus and Soft Machine. I have always liked Vaughan Williams, Holst and Bartok, as well as the Minimalists - John Adams, Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Philip Glass. I like some folk-tinged music, such as Fairport Convention, Richard Thompson and Joni Mitchell. I like the musicals of Stephen Sondheim.

But I also spend some time (usually around lunchtime) exploring music on YouTube. A lot of this music is undiluted pop music, my current favourite being by Adele. My YouTube musical adventures can take me anywhere, especially as I have the (perhaps odd) ability of being able to find music interesting, even if I don't like it. My dear Mum used to think I was crazy (although obviously she was completely wrong!)

 

How would you describe your own musical style?

The style in which I write my recorder music is influenced by many things, but it usually uses traditional harmony, or at least traditional jazz and rock harmony. I prefer friendly keys, so that my music is playable by a good number of players. At one time my rhythms were often jazzy, but I have reined them in somewhat since I started writing for recorders, again in the interests of playability for recorder groups. For example, I now severely ration my crotchet triplets!

I’ve played a huge mix of your music over the years - everything from solos and chamber music to large scale orchestral works. I’d love to know if there’s a type of music you get a particular kick out of writing? And what type of players do you most enjoy composing for?

What I get the biggest kick out of writing is music which is sonorous, beautiful and liable to be played well by groups of recorder players.

Deep down I do retain a slight preference for writing jazzy music. But jazzy music is rarely sonorous, beautiful and liable to be played well by groups of recorder players (the latter because jazz playing conventions are not familiar to most recorder players).

But this is no problem at all! There is a vast quantity and range of non-jazzy music still to be written, and I will be delighted if I can write some of it, and if friendly recorder players can enjoy playing it.

The joy when an ensemble plays your music just right!

Your music often makes prominent use of bass instruments and you’re frequently to be found sitting behind a contrabass recorder in ensembles and orchestras. What is it that draws you to the lower recorders?

I think there are three main reasons that I am attracted to the big recorders.

1. I much prefer experiencing music in terms of the lowest part, to hear how that part underpins the music. I'm afraid that high-pitched decoration doesn't do much for me.

2. I was able to buy these expensive (hence uncommon) big instruments, and so I am able to enhance the sound of recorder ensembles.

3. I am not naturally dexterous, and it's better to leave the whizzy small-instrument stuff to those who are! 

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As a photographer I often find I work best when I have creative limitations placed upon me - perhaps using just one lens or photographing to a specific theme. Is this something you use in your composing, or do you prefer to have a completely free rein?

In the words of Margaret Atwood 'The fact is that a blank page inspires me with terror.' That's a bit dramatic, but I know what she means. In any case, I love having creative limitations. And if I am not given any, then I make them up for myself. A recent commissioner of a piece gave me very few limitations, so I decided for myself that the piece needed precisely six variations on a theme, and that it was essential for each variation to comprise exactly twenty bars – I was much happier.

 

You’re such a prolific composer that I suspect the answer to this question will change with the passage of time, but are there pieces you’ve written that you would especially like to be remembered for?

I'm always pleased when I've written something that is a 'first' in the field in which I'm writing. So I'm particularly fond of my Recorder Concerto No 1 (the first for solo recorder and recorder orchestra), Prelude and Boogie (the first for a one-to-a-part chamber recorder orchestra) and Totally Tropical (the first for an eight-foot orchestra). But possibly above all I am a fan of my Elody Concerto – not only is it for solo recorder and recorder orchestra, but the solo instrument is the Elody 'electric recorder', AND one Helen Hooker played it brilliantly well at the world premier!

These are the pieces that I am most fond of, but I'm not all that concerned about how I would like them to be remembered – I won't be around to be bothered either way. 

As a recorder player, what gives you the most pleasure?

Broadly speaking, the most pleasure I get as a recorder player is when I play my subcontrabass  (i.e. contrabass in C). And the feeling is at its best when the recorder orchestra is large and my part is an octave below the contrabasses. The science of acoustics then makes itself felt, and the bottom end of the orchestra becomes rich and powerful. Terrific!

The single piece that gives me the most pleasure is my favourite piece of music in any genre - In C by Terry Riley. To be precise, I quite enjoy listening to a CD of the piece but, for me, the whole point of In C is the experience of playing it in a living-and-breathing ensemble. It satisfies everything that I could want from a piece of music – it has strict rules, but it requires a great deal of improvisation (which I love), and close teamwork between the players is essential. Over the years I have played it on the saxophone, and when I more-or-less gave up the sax in favour of the recorder, I assumed that my days of playing In C were over. But I'm delighted to say that it works really well on recorders too!

How do you like to spend your time when you’re not writing or playing music? Do you have any exciting upcoming projects you can tell us about?

I have always crammed an awful lot into my life, a cramming that is no less as I pass my 70th birthday. I am a keen cook, and I always have been. Related to that, my waistline kept on increasing, despite being an enthusiastic walker. A few years ago I finally overcame my weight problem, and wrote a book about how I slimmed down and maintained the large loss (for seven years and counting). Sticking to my own advice absorbs considerable time!

At the moment I am spending a lot of my life writing poetry and (particularly) drawing. I am working on a book that combines the two.

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Are there other people in the recorder world you’d like me to interview? Recorder makers, composers, performers? Do leave a comment below and I’ll see what I can do!

The Practice Files

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a love/hate relationship with practising at various times in my musical life. It’d be wonderful if we came fully formed to our chosen instrument, but the simple fact is it takes time to build up skills. In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell talks about the concept of needing 10,000 hours of practice at anything to become world class in that skill. He offers examples as diverse as Bill Gates’ computer programming skills and the Beatles’ time spent performing hundreds of concerts in Hamburg. This theory doesn’t take into account natural talent (which Gladwell notes is undoubtedly useful) but does reveal the importance of repetition in the process of honing any skill.

For most musicians the motivation behind practising isn’t to become world class. For some this is the aim, but the rest of us have other ideas…. Let’s take a look at some of them.

Why do we practise?

It’s important to have an understanding of your motivation when it comes to practising. After all, it’s usually a means to an end rather than practising for its own sake. These are some of the reasons I practise, but no doubt you’ll have your own motivations:

  • Improving my technique - for instance, speeding up a difficult passage or expanding my breath control.

  • To learn new repertoire - this one’s a big motivator. Life gets very dull when you perpetually stick with the same pieces of music.

  • Working on new skills. When I first went to music college I spent many hours improving my legato articulation, which in turn helped me to master double tonguing.

  • Preparing for a performance - this one’s uppermost in my mind right now, as I polish up tricky passages in readiness for a concert next week.

  • For fun! Yes, even practising can be fun and there are times when I’ll rip through unfamiliar repertoire just for the heck of it.

Always have a pencil handy when you’re practising and don’t be afraid to use it!

How to practise well

There are endless elements to practising, but if you want to make real progress the most important thing is the quality of your practice. It’s all very well endlessly repeating a passage, but if you’re not taking care to listen to what you’re doing with self awareness it becomes rather pointless. It’s easy for practice to be counterproductive if done in the wrong way.

Let’s look at a few of the strategies you can use to ensure your practice is of the highest quality:

How much practice is enough?

The simple answer is, it depends! A budding professional pianist, studying at a conservatoire, may need to do six hours a day - partly to learn the large scale repertoire, but also to build up the stamina necessary to perform big pieces by Rachmaninov, Brahms and others.

For an amateur recorder player, practising for six hours will probably leave you with very soggy instruments and diminishing returns! While at music college I regularly did 3-4 hours practice each day but, looking back, I realise I didn’t always practise efficiently and could probably achieve the same results in less time now. If you reach the end of an hour’s practice and can see improvement in the piece you’re playing that’s a good result. Quality of practice is just as important as quantity.

Practise efficiently

If you’re juggling working life with recorder practice it can be difficult to achieve everything you hope for. If you find you run out of time, try to practise in a more focused way. On days when you’re short of time, perhaps zoom straight in on the bits you find difficult and save longer run throughs for days when you have more time.

Don’t try to take on the whole world at once

Always listen critically as you play and be sure to stop and sort problems out as soon as possible. Rather than trying to work on huge quantities of repertoire, sometimes challenge yourself to really master just a bar or two with polish so the gains you make really last. Then you can return with confidence at the next practice session and add to that progress.

Are you working towards a deadline?

If you’re preparing for an exam or a performance that’s when you really need to knuckle down and practise effectively. If you don’t have a deadline in the near future don’t feel bad if you have off days - we all have practice sessions where nothing goes quite as planned!

Keeping motivated

Motivation is so important - without a clear desire and sense of direction it’s easy to get downhearted and lose your way. If you find yourself flagging, bear these points in mind:

Looking for new inspiration? Why not explore working from facsimiles of historical notation?

Don’t be afraid to try new things and explore. This might involve working on a different technical skill or reading through some unfamiliar repertoire. Have fun, trying something new and don’t be afraid to make a mess as you explore!

Don’t keep flogging a piece until you feel it’s perfect. Remember, perfection doesn’t exist - at least not for human beings! Sometimes you’ll reach a point where you have achieved all you can with the technical skills you currently have and that’s absolutely fine.

If you hit a wall with a piece of music, don’t be afraid to put it to one side for a while. Even when you stop working on something the music will continue to process in your subconscious. Countless times I’ve returned to a piece I worked on previously, only to find it’s improved in the intervening months - partly because my technique has improved through working on other things, and partly because it’s continued swilling around in my subconscious!

Ten tips for better practice

I’ll cover lots of these topics in more detail over the coming months, but here are ten quick ideas to help you focus your practice more efficiently.

  1. Warming up. Don’t neglect this element of practising. Just as an athlete warms up their muscles, you need to limber up your fingers, awaken your diaphragm for deep breathing and relax your throat to make a truly beautiful tone. A few minutes spent on the fundamentals of technique can make a huge difference to the progress you make in what follows.

  2. Scales and arpeggios. As a teenager I was a teacher’s nightmare - I hated scales with a passion and always left learning them until the last week or two before an exam! It was only as an adult I really learnt to appreciate what working on these simple patterns could do for my playing. If you’re not working towards an exam you don’t need to practise them in every key - instead pick the ones with keys which feature in the music you’re practising. Do you find them hard to memorise? Play them with music instead - at least then you’ll recognise the patterns when they appear in real music!

  3. Choose repertoire strategically to focus on specific skills. That might be reading up an octave, playing music with a minim pulse or getting to grips with a new size of recorder. Pick a piece where you can really focus on one thing rather than trying to multitask all the time.

  4. Don’t spend all your time at the bleeding edge of your capabilities. Sometimes it’s helpful to select a simple piece and focus on playing it with real polish. A slow melody gives you time to think about the beauty of your tone, or to concentrate on the quality of your finger movements.

  5. Record yourself so you hear your playing as a third party. If you have a smartphone use the voice memo app to record a piece you’ve been working on. You’ll be amazed at the things you notice which slip past unheard while you’re in the throes of playing!

  6. Keep a recorder out at all times (a plastic instrument is handy for this). If you have a particular weakness, pick the instrument up every time you pass by and spend 30 seconds working on whatever skill you’ve selected. This could be as simple as playing clean low notes, maintaining a relaxed throat or picking confident high notes out of thin air. Doing this several time a day can be a really good way to hone good habits.

  7. Find a practice buddy. Then you can share pieces and explore duet repertoire. You’ll learn a lot by bouncing ideas off each other, and responding to one another as you play together. Challenge yourselves to work on different things and be honest about flaws you see in each other’s playing. You’ll each have different strengths and weaknesses.

  8. Practise little and often. A short practice session (maybe even just a few minutes) will often be more effective than one big splurge once a week. Regular repetition of skills brings swifter progress. For many years I set myself the challenge of taking at least one new photo every day. Even on busy days, when I took just a handful of photos, this taught me something new and my photography skills improved more quickly than if I’d just got my camera out for holidays.

  9. Find a routine. Think about how you work best elsewhere in life. Do you achieve the most in the morning? Then set aside a little time at the start of the day to practise, so it’s done before you get distracted by other jobs. Or maybe you prefer your practice to come at the end of the day as a respite from the stresses of life. There’s no single correct answer.

  10. Structure your practice time. Good habits are developed through consistency and thoughtful repetition. Try building a regular pattern into your practice sessions - perhaps five minutes’ warm up, a selection of scales & arpeggios, followed by more detailed work on repertoire. This will help you build your technique efficiently.

Playing with others can be a great way to mix up your practice routine

Do you have to practise?

There’s no getting away from the fact that practice really does help you improve as a player. However, there will be times when you just want to get on and play. Many years ago a member of my class at a course boldly told me that she never practised. For her, playing with friends at her local Society of Recorder Players branch was enough and she had other ways she wanted to spend her free time at home. Who am I to say that’s wrong? Sometimes we all need some downtime, and if you have periods when you take a break from formal practice that’s fine!

Finally, remember this….

By definition, as an amateur musician you play the recorder for love rather than for a living. So your practice should also be a pleasure, not a chore! Yes, have clear aims for your practice when you want to really make progress. But equally, don’t be afraid to have fun too. Even the act of romping through some unfamiliar music in a rough and ready way will bring benefits and will blow the cobwebs away!

What are your practice conundrums?

In the coming weeks and months I’ll return to some of the points I’ve covered here, to help you become a more skilled practiser. Lots of you have already sent me suggestions and requests, but if you have a burning question please don’t hesitate to leave a comment below or drop me a line via email, and I’ll build them into my future blog posts. Equally, if you’ve got a top practice tip you want to share, please do leave a comment below - let’s see if we can all help each other!

Composer focus – Georg Philipp Telemann

Who’s your favourite recorder composer? Are you a Baroque aficionado, or a fan of contemporary music? One of the things I love about my work is being able to help the musicians I meet discover new music and to enable them to play familiar pieces better. From time to time I’ll take a look at composers and the music they’ve written for the recorder, making suggestions for recordings you may enjoy along the way. For the first of these occasional posts I decided to begin with someone who played the recorder himself and wrote effortlessly for the instrument – Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767).

I’ll concentrate today on Telemann’s solo recorder sonatas, but our favourite instrument features in much more of his music so I’ll return to that in a later post. Even if you don’t often play solo repertoire yourself, I encourage you to read on as I hope you’ll discover something new and I’ve chosen lots of wonderful performances for you to listen to.

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Telemann may naturally spring to mind as a great composer to us, but he hasn’t always enjoyed universal popularity or been viewed with such esteem. By the nineteenth century he was dismissed by many musicologists as a polygraph – writing too much music, with quantity outweighing quality. The 1911 edition of Encyclopaedia Britannica referred to him very negatively in comparison with Bach and Handel, talking about "the vastly inferior work of lesser composers such as Telemann". Damning words, but if the writer of that sentence could have spoken to Telemann’s contemporaries, he’d have heard of a man whose musical expertise was very highly considered. He knew both J.S.Bach and Handel well and became godfather to Bach’s son, Carl Philipp Emanuel.

Telemann was self-taught in music and, like many 18th century musicians, was a multi-instrumentalist, playing the recorder, flute, oboe, violin, viola da gamba, double bass and other instruments too. His family made it clear they wished him to follow a different career, so initially he went into the law, later gravitating back to life as a full-time musician.

He was certainly prolific, composing over 3000 works – over three times the output of J.S.Bach! Sadly around half of these pieces have since been lost, but that still leaves us with a vast and varied repertoire. He loved absorbing different influences, bringing French, Italian, German and even Polish national styles into his writing. Composition evidently came easily to Telemann – his contemporary and friend Handel, once jokingly said that he "could write a church piece in eight parts with the same expedition another would write a letter".

The largest part of Telemann’s working life (1721-1767) was spent in Hamburg, where he was employed to write music for all five of the city’s churches. It’s reputed that his salary was about three times what Bach was paid for a similar role in Leipzig so the city evidently appreciated his talents. In 1722 a search was made for a new Kantor at Leipzig’s Thomaskirche and Telemann was first choice for the job. Ultimately Hamburg city council wouldn’t release him from his duties there, so he had to decline the job and the post was filled by Bach – although apparently he wasn’t even the second choice for the job!

Musician and businessman

Not only was Telemann a wonderful composer, but he was also a canny businessman. He made a point of pursuing exclusive publication rights for his works, setting an important early precedent regarding music as the intellectual property of the composer. Between 1725 and 1740 he published more than 40 volumes of music, which were widely distributed across Europe. One of these publishing ventures is particularly relevant to his recorder output as we’ll see later.

The recorder sonatas

It was common for Baroque composers to write sonatas which mention the recorder in their title pages. With many, they were aimed at as wide a market as possible, often listing the music as being suitable for two or three instruments, often a combination of recorder, flute, oboe or violin. Telemann did this too (for instance his Sonata in F minor can be played on recorder or bassoon) and no doubt this broadened his sales opportunities. But one gets a definite sense while playing his sonatas that the music was really intended for the recorder, using the full range of the instrument and playing to its strengths. In contrast, Handel’s recorder sonatas are beautiful, but they rarely utilise the higher notes and would just as easily sit on the flute or violin. In contrast, Telemann, as a recorder player himself, explores the instrument’s possibilities more fully and even specifies particular articulation in some works.

Telemann’s recorder sonatas come in three collections (plus a lone sonata which stands alone), numbering nine in total. There are other collections too, such as the Methodical Sonatas, originally composed for flute, which can be stolen by recorder players. But ‘borrowing’ flute repertoire usually requires transposing the music up a minor third (common practice by 18th century recorder players) and this can compromise the ease of playing because you sometimes end up in less comfortable keys. For the purposes of this blog post I’ll concentrate on the ‘pure’ recorder sonatas, but if you’re looking for further music to inspire and stretch you I also recommend the Methodical Sonatas. Each sonata begins with a slow movement which shows both the plain melodic lines and Telemann’s own florid ornamentation. they’re a wonderful lesson on the extremes one can explore while embellishing Baroque music and contain some exquisite music.

Der getreue Music-Meister

In 1728 Telemann came up with the idea for a music periodical – the first of its kind. Every two weeks he would publish a new ‘Lection’ or lesson, containing freshly composed music.

The title page is inscribed thus:

“The faithful Music-Master, who intends to supply all kinds of musical pieces, as much for singers as for instrumentalists, for various voices and nearly all customary instruments, and also moral, operatic, and other arias and TRIOS, DUETS, SOLOS etc. SONATAS, OUVERTURES, etc., and also containing FUGUES, COUNTERPOINTS, CANONS, etc. hence almost everything which occurs in music, intended to be played according to the Italian, French, English, Polish, and as much serious as lively and entertaining manner, every 14 days in one LECTION by Telemann.”

Der getreue Music-Meister stretched to no new fewer than twenty five editions, published during 1728 and 1729. Telemann showed a streak of publishing genius here, including a variety of single movements in each edition. This meant that if you wanted to play a complete sonata you had to keep up your subscription to collect all the movements!

The first piece in Telemann’s Der getreue Music-Meister is the Recorder Sonata in F

Dotted through Der getreue Music-Meister you’ll find four solo sonatas for recorder, as well as Telemann’s wonderful ‘Girlfriends’ trio sonata (two recorders and basso continuo) which depicts women from classical history.

Many recorder players will start their explorations of Telemann’s recorder music with the Sonata in F major, which is only modestly challenging. For those who’d like to try playing this sonata with accompaniment, but don’t have a tame accompanist, I recommend looking at Tabea Debus’s Continuo Lines website where you can download performances of the three movements at different tempi. Tabea is planning to gradually expand the variety of repertoire available so do have a root around and you may find some other sonatas you’d like to explore with virtual continuo.

The F major Sonata is perhaps Telemann’s least demanding from a technical standpoint, although it does require a little courage and positivity to play the top C (an octave higher than the one just about the treble stave) in the final movement. It’s here you see Telemann thinking as a recorder player himself - Handel would never have dreamt of using such extreme notes. But Telemann knows this highest note is appropriate as it occurs at the climax of the movement.

Sonata in F major, performed by Erik Bosgraaf

The Sonata in C major is a favourite of mine, and was one of the first pieces of Telemann’s I learnt as a teenager. Here you really get a sense of the composer’s familiarity with the recorder, exploiting the high register for climactic moments in the music. Telemann also includes articulation marks throughout the sonata, some of them quirky, but always stylish and perfectly suited to the instrument. The final Vivace is a real musical firework, with energetically leaping arpeggios and flurries of demisemiquavers which sound very virtuosic. Of course, Telemann innately knew how to write sympathetically for the recorder so these whizzy passages lie beautifully under the fingers.

Sonata in C major, performed by Hyowon Lee

Perhaps the least well known of the recorder sonatas in Der getreue Music-Meister is the Sonata in B flat major. Unusually, this work is written as a strict canon, with the bassline following the recorder part at a few beats distance. In some hands such strict canonic writing would limit the possibilities of the music, but Telemann uses just as much variety and creativity as in his other sonatas.

Sonata in B flat, performed by Clas Pehrsson

Finally we have the Sonata in F minor, which Telemann suggests as being for recorder or bassoon. Here he ventures into a much darker soundworld, opening with a deliciously dramatic and chromatic Triste. The Allegro and Vivace movements are some of Telemann’s most finger-twisting, and a good grasp of flat key scales and arpeggios is a must if you’re to feel at home in F minor. It’s worth persevering though, as being at ease with this music will free you up to explore the dramatic possibilities of the music.

Sonata in F minor, performed by Erik Bosgraaf

As I researched this blog post I learnt it’s not just recorder players who pilfer music from other instruments and I couldn’t resist sharing another performance of the F minor Sonata with you - this time impeccably played on the trombone by Stefan Schulz!

Essercizii Musici

Telemann continued to explore the possibilities of publishing mixed collections of chamber music later in his life, and around 1739 he came up with Essercizii Musici. This collection contains two sets of twelve sonatas for one or two instruments and continuo, featuring combinations of recorder, flute, violin, oboe and viola da gamba, alongside a series of suites for solo harpsichord. Essercizii Musici includes two solo sonatas for recorder which, I think, are among his best.

In the Sonata in C major Telemann experiments with a fluidity of writing, shifting seamlesslybetween Adagio and Allegro tempi. Unusually the lilting Larghetto which follows is in F minor, offering a brief moment of serenity before the fireworks recommence in the final Vivace.

Sonata in C major, performed by Pamela Thorby

The second recorder work in this collection is the Sonata in D minor – my favourite among Telemann’s solo sonatas. This is Telemann at his most daring, with immense drama, big contrasts of dynamic and rapid mood swings.

The opening lines of the D minor Sonata, showing Telemann’s daring use of dynamics

Many a time I’ve programmed this piece as the finale of a recital (a role it fulfils perfectly), only to wonder what possessed me when I remember how much energy it demands at the end of a long concert! Erik Bosgraaf captures the drama perfectly in this performance, particularly with the seamless transition into a positively operatic Grave.

Sonata in D minor, performed by Erik Bosgraaf

 

The Recorder Sonatinas

Published 1731, Telemann’s two Sonatinas for recorder were part of a collection titled Neue Sonatinen für Clavier, Violine, Flûte trav und Flûte à bec. For a long while the bassline for these sonatas was lost, but a few years ago a complete manuscript of the same works (this time presented as violin sonatas) was discovered in Dresden. This discovery made it possible to perform the Sonatinas asnthe composer intended, although they are still less commonly heard than Telemann’s other recorder sonatas.

Both these works begin to look ahead, musically speaking, with a style which hints at the Galant – that transition between Baroque and Classical – especially in the effortlessly elegant slow movements.

In many ways the Sonatina in A minor feels like a close sibling of Telemann’s other minor key sonatas, exploring virtuosity and sinuous chromatic passages.  

Sonatina in A minor, performed by Stefan Temingh

The Sonatina in C minor is another piece which seems somewhat operatic to me, with contrasts of mood and unexpected shifts of harmony.

Sonatina in C minor, performed by Maurice Steger

 

Sonata in F minor

This final sonata is something of an outlier, and can be found in a single manuscript at the Bibliotheque du Conservatoire in Brussels. It’s less dramatic than Telemann’s others and perhaps feels like a more ‘generic’ Baroque sonata. That said, I do have a fondness for the opening Adagio, especially in this beautifully expressive performance by Saskia Coolen.

Recommended editions

There are countless editions of Telemann’s recorder sonatas, so I won’t go through each in turn. If you want a good, clean, complete edition you can’t go far wrong with Bernard Thomas’s Complete Original Recorder Sonatas published by Dolce (DOL124). Hortus Musicus publish a good edition of the sonatas from Der getreue Music-Meister (edition number HM6) and I’d recommend the Amadeus edition of the two Essercizii Musici sonatas (BP2052).

Of course, if you want to explore this wonderful repertoire before buying a published edition, it’s worth heading over to Telemann’s page on IMSLP and typing recorder into the ‘Search category’ box halfway down the page for copyright free editions.

Facsimile editions of both Der getreue Music-Meister and Essercizii Musici are available and both are quite easily read by modern eyes too. Both collections are published by Musica Repartita – MR250 for the former, and MR251 for the latter.

Further listening

It’s been a pleasure to explore the many recordings of Telemann’s Sonatas while researching this blog post and I’ve discovered some wonderful performances which I’ll keep returning to. Here are a few of my favourites:

  • Telemann: The Recorder Sonatas – Erik Bosgraaf & Francesco Corti (Brilliant Classics) Wonderfully dramatic performances and you can see videos of Erik playing most of them on his YouTube channel too.

  • Telemann Recorder Sonatas and Fantasias – Pamela Thorby with Peter Whelan, Alison McGillivray, Elizabeth Kenny & Marcin Świątkiewicz (Linn records) Pamela’s performance of the Essercizii Musici C major Sonata is wonderfully organic and the Fantasias are a lovely bonus. The continuo team is a mix of cello, lute, harpsichord and organ, creating great variety.

  • Telemann Recorder Sonatas and Fantasias – Frans Bruggen, Anner Bylsma & Gustav Leonhardt (Apex) These feel a little dated in places now, but worth exploring as in their time they were some of the best.

  • Telemann Sonatas No.1-7 – Saskia Coolen, Margriet Tindemans & Peter Watshorn (Globe). I particularly love Saskia’s spacious approach to the Affettuoso of the D minor Sonata. 

  • Telemann Solo and Trio Sonatas – Maurice Steger, Continuo Consort & Naoki Kitaya (Claves) – a real showman and it’s a joy to hear some of Telemann’s exquisite trio sonatas here too.

  • Telemann Cantatas for soprano and recorder – Stefan Temmingh, Dorothee Mields and continuo (Accent). A particularly lovely performance of the A minor Sonatina alongside cantatas and trio sonatas which all feature the recorder.

If you’ve enjoyed this romp through Telemann’s recorder sonatas please do let me know in the comments below which other composers you’d like me to explore. The recorder’s repertoire is enormously varied and I hope these posts may help you discover music, familiar and unknown, for our favourite instrument.

Likewise, if you have favourite editions of these works or other recordings you particularly enjoy do tell us about them in the comments below.

The Technique Zone - Are you sitting comfortably?

The new year is traditionally a time for making resolutions, often with self-improvement in mind. It might be a promise to get fitter or to eat less chocolate, or maybe an assertion that you’ll practise more and improve your recorder playing. If you find yourself making the latter resolution every year this new series of blog posts is designed to help you. 

The Technique Zone will be an ongoing series devoted to different aspects of recorder technique. I don’t have all the answers, but hopefully my tips may help you to better understand what you could do to become a better player.



How to use this series

It’s easy when you’re filled with new year enthusiasm to promise yourself you’ll work on every aspect of your playing this year. After all, the elements of recorder playing – breathing, tone production, articulation, fingering etc. – are all interlinked. However, if you wish retain some sanity I would warn against this! Instead, take a few minutes to think about your playing. Which elements of technique do you find hardest? Be honest about your weaknesses. Pick one area to focus on and hone for a while before you then move on to tackle something else.

We all know how difficult it is to multitask. Trying to work on too many things at once brings a distinct danger of doing nothing really well. Instead, take time to really polish one aspect of your playing – your tone, for instance – to the point where the good habits you’ve learnt become second nature. At that point you can consider another area of your technique, safe in the knowledge that you’ll maintain the good habits you’ve already built up while learning something new.

Alongside the Technique Zone I plan to run another series of posts, devoted to the thorny issue of practising effectively and efficiently. But more on these in due course….

The subject of this first Technique Zone post will be posture and remaining relaxed while playing, so let’s get started….

Let’s warm up

Photograph by Zoltan Tasi

It’s easy to throw yourself into practising without a second thought, filled with enthusiasm to make immediate progress. Don’t neglect the process of warming up first though. A runner would never begin their training with a high speed sprint. Instead, they’ll start with a gentle jog to warm up. Likewise, a gymnast or ballet dancer will do some stretches to limber up their muscles, ready for the demands they’ll make of their bodies. Even cats stretch when they wake up - they must instinctively know it’s good for their wellbeing!

Playing a musical instrument may not seem quite as physical as running a marathon or dancing a jive, but its repetitive nature can be equally damaging over long periods. It’s easy to get caught up in the music you’re practising and before you know it an hour has gone by, leaving you feeling tired and stiff. Instead, take a few minutes before you begin to stretch, making sure the key muscles you need are warm and relaxed. Tension is one of your biggest enemies and you’ll always play better when you’re relaxed.

An excellent resource for this is a sheet of warm ups published by the British Association for Performing Arts Medicine. Why not print a copy to keep in your recorder case for reference?

Before I move on to talk about posture, can I also urge you to take regular breaks whenever you’re playing. This is important whether you’re practising alone at home or playing with others. Sitting still for too long takes a huge toll on our bodies. It’s important to get up, walk around and stretch for a few minutes every half hour or so. Your body will thank you and your concentration levels will benefit too.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Most of us do much of our playing sitting down, especially when rehearsing with others. If you generally sit to practise I encourage you to sometimes ditch the chair and stand for a while if you can. Standing restricts your breathing less, encourages you to move more often, increases blood flow around the body and will help your concentration too. Give it a try. There’s no need to ban yourself from sitting entirely, but it’s good to change things up from time to time.

Having said all that, a lot of what I’m about to say is equally applicable whether you’re sitting or standing. But let’s take a moment to think about the part of our posture which does change when we sit – our lower body and legs.

Setting good foundations

If you’re sitting down, please stand up for a moment and consider your lower body posture. You don’t need a recorder for this – just your body and some self awareness. You might find it helpful to stand in front of a long mirror if you have one.

Stand as though you were about to play the recorder and look down at your feet. Are they close together or spread far apart? Move them into different positions and note the effect this has on your stability and balance. With your feet very close together your core muscles have to work harder to maintain your balance. Remember, you use these same core muscles to control your breathing, so you don’t want to overwork them.

Now move your feet a little further from each other – about hip width apart – and see how much more stable you feel. While you’re there, spread your feet even further apart and note the way your upper leg muscles then have to work harder.

While you’re standing, consider your knees. I know you don’t use your knees to play the recorder, but if you have them locked and stiff that makes your leg muscles work harder, increasing tension. Instead, keep them slightly soft so you’re not stiffly locked in position.

Please take a seat….

Now we’ve set the foundations, let’s sit down and consider the effect this has on our balance and posture.

When you play sitting down do you use the back rest of your seat? In many places recorder players meet to rehearse we’re provided with cheap, moulded plastic chairs. Heaven knows who such seats were designed for, but I’m pretty certain it wasn’t the human form! If you sit back in many of these chairs it’s almost impossible not to slouch. Instead I encourage you to sit forward a little on your seat. You don’t need to be perched on the edge, but leave a little fresh air between your back and the chair so you can use your body’s own balance mechanisms.

Now you’re sitting down, keep your feet about hip width apart and place them beneath your knees, so you have a right angle at both your knees and hips. Note how this gives you a feeling of stability and balance. Now try tucking your feet beneath your chair or stretching them languidly out in front of you. Both of these actions deprive you of balance, don’t they? Tucking your feet under your seat tips your upper body forwards, while stretching the legs throws you backwards. Either way, you have to engage your core muscles (the ones you’ll be using to breath and blow) much more to maintain an upright playing position.

Bring yourself back to that balanced position – feet beneath your knees, with right angles at knees and hips. Now gently rock your upper body back and forth a little, gradually reducing the movement until you come to rest in the centre. Think of the Weeble toys made for children from the 1970s and you’ll have an idea what I mean. If you’re of the wrong generation to recall Weebles you can see what I mean here!

When you reach the centre you’ve found your ischial tuberosities – your sitting bones. You’re now sitting in a balanced way, as nature intended. By doing this you minimise the work the muscles in your back and core need to do.

Let’s return to the back of your seat again for a moment. If you can sit back and use the backrest for gentle support while sitting well, that’s great, but remember this isn’t possible with all chair designs. I almost always sit forward on my seat while playing because doing so puts less strain on my body than fighting a badly designed chair. Don’t forget you can always relax back into the chair during rests!

If you’d like to see a visual demonstration of the ideas I’ve just talked about this short video may be helpful:

Find a balance between relaxation and sitting up straight

We’ve all been told at some point in our lives (often by parents or school teachers) to, “Sit up straight!” But just how straight should you be? If you actively try to straighten your back you’re almost certainly going to end up with tense, sore muscles after a while. Our spines have their own natural curves which we shouldn’t attempt to expunge. Instead, try a method often espoused by Alexander Technique teachers. Imagine a thread running right along your spine, through your head and out of the top of your crown. Feel this thread gently lifting you, so you feel taller, but without straining to do so. Sitting well should use as little effort as possible, while avoiding being so relaxed that you slouch!

Head up, chin in, shoulders down!

It’s very easy to get into bad habits with your upper body while playing the recorder. We naturally feel an instinct to reach for the mouthpiece, stretching our chin forward. When we get tired and tense our shoulders will rise and in moments of stress (such as that tricky bit with all the accidentals!) we forget to check our posture.

Use a mirror to observe the position of your shoulders when you’ve been playing for a while. Now roll them in a circular motion, back and forth, dropping your arms at your sides, so gravity pulls their weight gently downwards. Are your shoulders further from your earlobes than they were a few moments ago? I bet they are! While you’re here, are your shoulders back and inline with your body, allowing your shoulder blades to form a V shape? Or maybe they’re rounded and pulled forwards. If you’re not sure, try rolling them forwards and see how much more strain that puts on your upper back muscles. A physiotherapist who used to treat my back would often say, “Shoulders back, boobs out!” to remind me to maintain good upper body posture. Now I realise this phrase only works for 50% of the population, but gents can try “shoulders back, chest out” instead!

Finally, think about the position of your chin. We spend too much of our lives today with our heads down over computers and mobile phones, often sticking our chins forward. The average human head weighs 5 kilos, so sitting with your head stretched forward puts enormous strain on your neck, often resulting in tension and headaches. As someone who has an unusually flexible spine and neck I’m frequently painfully aware of this fact because my natural vulnerability to overextension.

Try instead to tuck your chin in and keep your head lifted rather than bent forward. Doing this not only allows a freer path for the air passing through your windway when playing your recorder, but also helps you avoid tension headaches and knots in your neck and shoulder muscles. It may be you need to lift your music stand a little higher to encourage a healthy head position when playing, although I’m aware this can cause problems seeing the music with certain types of glasses.

Next time you play your recorders, try to be more aware of your head, chin and shoulders, focusing on keeping your chin tucked in, shoulders low and relaxed. Most importantly, make sure you always bring the recorder’s mouthpiece to you, rather than stretching your body towards it. This is particularly important for bass recorders and larger.

Knick basses or those with crooks have lots of points of adjustment and don’t overlook the way you support the recorder either. A sling can be helpful in taking the weight of the instrument, but maybe try it slung diagonally across your body if it causes discomfort when hung around your neck. Another option is a spike attached to the bottom of your bass, so the floor takes the weight, rather than you. With bigger basses make sure your seat is at the right height to allow you to play comfortably without having to actively stretch to reach the mouthpiece.

Are you now sitting more comfortably?

All the tips I’ve shared with you today are things I’ve picked up during over forty years of playing, as I’ve learnt to be comfortable in my own body. None of them are groundbreaking concepts, but they are easily overlooked.

When music making is your passion it’s easy to get caught up in the moment, neglecting your physical wellbeing. We spend many hours of our lives making repetitive movements. This can be damaging, but it needn’t be if you simply think about what you’re doing a little more.

How to practise what you’ve learnt…

Practising good posture shouldn’t be something you only consider when playing your recorder. Instead, make a point of sitting really well for some time every single day. OK, there will be times when you just want to lounge languidly on the sofa, and that’s absolutely fine! But find moments in the day when you’re doing something simple (maybe while you’re eating breakfast or as you sit on the platform waiting for a train) and consciously check your posture. Find your ischial tuberosities, drop your shoulders, lift your head and take some deep, relaxed breaths. Doesn’t it feel marvellous?! Try to bring this habit into your practice time too. Maybe follow some deep, relaxed breathing with a few minutes of long notes or a simple folk tune where you can think about how you’re sitting without the distraction of other technical challenges.

 

Have you picked up other useful tips on maintaining good posture while playing? If so please do share them with us in the comments below so others can benefit too. I’d love these Technique Zone posts to become an interactive resource where we can all learn from each other. In the meantime, keep relaxed and tension-free and I’ll see you again soon in the Technique Zone! 

Knowing me, knowing you….

January year is a time when we look back at the old year to take stock, as well as looking ahead to the new year stretching out ahead of us. My musical activities over the last year came about because of the Covid-19 pandemic. While this wretched virus has done its best to wreak havoc, for me it’s had one huge upside - meeting you! Of course, I already knew some of you personally before this all started, but it’s been a huge pleasure to get to know new names and faces, through the gift of your emails, cards and letters. Of course, I do most of the talking in our ‘conversations’, writing to you every 14 days. But I really look forward to finding your side of the conversation waiting for me in my email inbox. It’s been a joy to meet some of you in person and I’ve made so many new friends - thank you.

To start the new year I thought we’d continue the spirit of getting to know each other. Much of what you’ve learnt about me so far has been about my current musical life, so I figured I could share some more of my backstory, musical and otherwise. Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a full autobiography, but merely a few (hopefully) interesting and sometimes quirky glimpses into my life. I’d love to learn more about you too, so please do read to the end and get in touch.

Where it all started…

I grew up in West Sussex, on the south coast of England and, aside from my college years, I remained there until we moved north to Essex in 2013. It’s ironic really – my parents moved to Sussex in the 1960s from Essex, and I’ve now followed my roots back again! It’s been a big adventure moving away from my home territory, and without it I’d probably still be teaching in schools and wouldn’t have met you!

One of my favourite places in my home county of Sussex - the village of Bosham

My start on the recorder

Like many children of the 1970s I started playing the recorder with the rest of my class at primary school. I began at the age of seven, led by my teacher, Mrs Cureton, who I naturally assumed was an expert on the instrument. It was only when we met again many years later that she confessed she’d only been a couple of pages ahead of the class! When it came to shifting from descant to treble recorder, there weren’t enough treble recorders to go around, so I was entrusted with a sopranino instead. Now that was either a very foolhardy decision, or perhaps someone had realised I was the one least likely to make a screechy sound on this shrill instrument of torture!

My final year at primary school brought me the opportunity to play another instrument. I really wanted to play the flute, but the teacher was oversubscribed so I plumped for the clarinet instead. Moving to secondary school I continued to dabble with the recorder, playing in the school ensemble, but the clarinet had become my main instrument. It wasn’t until the 4th form when my music teacher, Mrs Lloyd, asked if I fancied taking a grade on the recorder as she was entering some of the other girls for exams. I thought, “Why not!” and started working on the pieces. This was the moment I saw the light and realised that not only was the recorder a ‘proper instrument’, I actually preferred it to the clarinet. From that moment I was completely hooked, and the rest, as they say, is history…

I never intended to be a professional musician

Through my school years I enjoyed music and loved the gang of friends I’d made through music making. But I never had any intention of being a professional musician. Naturally, school careers advisors warned against trying to make a living through music, so it simply never occurred to me that it was even a possibility. During the 1980s the WISE campaign (Women in Science and Engineering) was launched so I was encouraged to consider careers which followed that route. For a time I had ideas about becoming a physiotherapist or radiotherapist, but music continued to play a big part in my life. By the time I moved on to the local sixth form college I had decided to become a music librarian, hoping to work in this field with one of the big orchestras. Fortunately, my parents could see how much I enjoyed the practical element of music making, and they encouraged me to go to music college rather than following a purely academic music education at university.

My first wooden recorder came via an unexpected raffle win

Sitting on my motorbike in my parents’ garden

At the tender age of thirteen I helped my Mum man one of the stands at an event organised by the local police to raise awareness of safety when riding bikes. The day included a raffle, so my Mum bought a ticket and put my name on it. You can imagine the conversation that evening when we got a phone call from the police asking to speak to me… It turned out I’d won first prize – a motorbike! I repaid Mum the fifty pence for the ticket and claimed my prize, which I couldn’t yet legally ride! With no use for the bike, we sold it and a couple of years later that cash paid for my first wooden recorder – a rosewood Moeck Rottenburgh treble. The recorder is well past its best these days, but it holds such happy memories I’ve never had the heart to part company with it.

Magic musical moments don’t always come where you expect them…

The most joyous experiences in music making are often the ones you don’t see coming, which leave you soaring on a cloud. Playing in an exciting concert can keep me awake for hours, on an adrenaline high. But sometimes those highs come when you’re least expecting them.

About a decade ago I conducted a playing day with the Suffolk branch of the Society of Recorder Players. We finished the day with Steve Marshall’s Sinfonietta No.2 – a piece for three equal choirs of recorders. It finishes slowly and quietly, and players often lose control, rushing the moment. On this occasion though the massed players (about 50 people) played an absolutely blinder, performing the final run through with enormous poise and musicality. As we finished you could have heard a pin drop as the perfection of the moment sank in. It was one of those once in a lifetime experiences I know I’ll never replicate. As I drove home afterwards I recall grinning like a loon and it left me on a high for days!

I once gave a concert to 350 people and an eagle owl

Strange, but true! Anyone who lived in southern England in 1987 will no doubt have vivid memories of the great storm, which felled millions of trees and did enormous damage to homes and businesses. A wildlife centre near Chichester was damaged by the high winds and during the night an Eagle Owl escaped its enclosure. It subsequently spent many months living in the environs of Chichester Cathedral, feeding off vermin in the cathedral close.

One evening in February 1989, as the west doors opened after evensong, the owl flew into the Cathedral and refused to be captured by the vergers. By chance, the following day, I was due to give a recital there, so my audience of 350 was augmented by one more, of the feathered kind. Fortunately, Oswald (he was christened so as he’d flown in on the eve of St Oswald’s day) slept through the whole thing, perched in one of the arches above the lady chapel. One can only imagine the chaos that would have ensued if he’d chosen to exhibit his six foot wing span by flying down the nave mid-concert!

A few days later, he’d become hungry enough to be tempted down by a tasty morsel and was finally returned to his aviary at the sanctuary. Oswald’ adventure was subsequently immortalised in a children’s book by the actor and director Patrick Garland. I’ve since given several more concerts in Chichester Cathedral – all of them to even larger audiences, but sadly none of them had feathers!

A more recent concert in Chichester Cathedral. A packed audience, but none with feathers or talons!

The adventures of a magazine cover girl

I’ve had the honour of appearing on the cover of The Recorder Magazine not once, but twice. The first time came in 1993, when the magazine was relaunched by Peacock Press, just after I’d left college. The photographer Robert Carpenter Turner was tasked with the job of finding a photogenic recorder player to appear on the inaugural cover and somehow he found me!

Thirteen years later one of our crazier Parnassian Ensemble publicity photos took pride of place on the cover, to celebrate the release of our CD. The shot selected featured the four of us lying on the floor, with our feet up on the harpsichord and, because I was closest to the camera, my legs take centrestage! Needless to say, this isn’t a photo we use in our publicity much, but it was huge fun to create, as I think you can tell from our expressions!  

I’m a photo addict

If you’ve been a subscriber to Score Lines for a while you’ll already know I’m a keen photographer from the photos I share with you each week. However, you may not know the true extent of my photographic addiction…

One of my most recent photos, taken in Peterborough Cathedral

Back in 2007 I started a blog as somewhere to share my photos. By the end of 2008 I was sharing at least one new photo every day and decided I’d keep doing that for a year. My training as a musician told me if I practised regularly I would improve. Why shouldn’t that also be the case with photography? Sure enough, after a year I was making better photos and was thoroughly hooked. I decided I’d miss my daily dose of photography if I stopped so I kept going…. for ten years!

In 2018 I decided the need to find a new photo every day was limiting me, so I took the decision to free myself of that requirement and just take photos when I wanted to. I still use my camera most days, even now, but I’m able to be more experimental, trying different styles, such as the pinhole photography I’ve sometimes shared with you in Score Lines. If I’ve learnt one thing from my photography addiction though, it’s the fact that regular practice really does make a difference, whatever skill it is you’re trying to acquire!

With a little help from my friends…

Music making is almost always a matter of teamwork and nowhere is that truer than when you’re making a recording. I’ve been involved in a few recording projects over the years, but there are two I’m especially proud of. In 2009 Steve Marshall persuaded me I really should record a CD and the result was Helen and Friends. Featuring a wide variety of music, from solo unaccompanied repertoire to consort pieces and a performance of Steve’s Concerto No.2, which he composed specially for me. Lots of my friends appear on the CD, including the Phoenix Recorder Orchestra. Here’s one of my favourite tracks from the CD for you to listen to straight away. There’s another track over in my Members’ Area for Score Lines subscribers to download and keep.

If you’re not already a member, why not subscribe to Score Lines here and you’ll receive immediate free access to my exclusive subscriber videos, sheet music and much more.

Encouraged by the experience of recording my own CD, when the Society of Recorder Players asked me to produce a CD of music in memory of Brian Bonsor I leapt at the chance. In collaboration with Brian’s widow, Mary, I chose a mix of his music then set about recruiting a handpicked ensemble of players who I knew could learn and record the music without needing vast amounts of rehearsal time. I’ll be forever grateful to the friends who agreed to take part in the Bravo Bonsor! project, for giving their time and talents so willingly. Musical teamwork at its best.

The need for speed

Over the months I’ve shared photos from a huge variety of places, but some of my favourite locations to shoot are places which are home to fast cars. I grew up watching motor racing with my parents, as well as attending events at the motor circuit at Goodwood. There’s nothing quite like the smell of the mineral oil used in old cars and the roar of an engine to get the heart beating that little bit faster!

Fortunately, Kevin is also a petrolhead so we love spending summer days attending car shows and race meetings with his beloved 1965 Mini. I adore old cars in particular and I have even been known occasionally to pass up the opportunity to play my recorder in favour of a weekend watching the action at the Goodwood Racing Revival!

Wheel to wheel action on track at Goodwood

Of course, speed doesn’t have to happen at ground level. Over the years Kevin’s love of old aircraft has also rubbed off on me. I relish the challenge of photographing them in flight, even if I can’t always remember their names. This May, as a belated celebration of a significant birthday we both had in 2021 we’ll be taking a ride in a North American Aviation Harvard, a WWII training aircraft, in the skies over Bedfordshire. Naturally, I’ll share a photo from the day with you after the event!

The very aircraft Kevin and in which Kevin and I will be taking to the skies - named ‘Wacky Wabbit’!

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So now you know a little more about me – some of it musical, some of it not. Now it’s your turn… Why not get in touch to tell me something about yourself – it could be how you came to recorder playing, or maybe something completely unrelated to music.

While you’re there, do let me know what you’d like me to write about here on the Score Lines blog in 2022. I’ve got lots of ideas, but I’m always open to suggestions. At the moment I have some longer term themes in mind which I’ll cover over several posts, including technique tips, practice methods, repertoire and some interviews.

But what would you like to read about? You may have ideas I haven’t even considered yet? This blog is for you so the more information I have about you and the things you’d like to learn the better I can tailor it to your needs. All you need to do is leave a comment below, click reply to any issue of Score Lines or ping me a message via my contact page. I’m already looking forward to seeing my inbox contains next time I check….