Making the case for contemporary music

In his masterly book A Concise History of Western Music Paul Griffiths explains that “The past is not a path we and our predecessor's have travelled but a labyrinth, and a labyrinth forever in flux”. Concert planners usually view the musical past as a narrow path that must be followed closely, and as a result they produce predictable programmes that overlook the many riches hidden in the labyrinth of music history.

So how wonderful to see the King of Hearts in Norwich departing from the familiar narrow path for its Autumn Festival, and challenging performers to explore the musical labyrinth. This Journey Across Time provided fascinating perspectives. Not only was it a rewarding musical experience, but it was also very enlightening to see how both audiences and performers responded to the challenge of musical diversity.

The Festival started rather unpromisingly with a recital by violinist Catherine Macintosh and harpsichordist Maggie Cole. These performers are no strangers to contemporary music, and played two works by Stephen Dodgson, including his Inventions which are dedicated to Maggie. But, despite this, the music was presented in a strangely detached way, rather like being introduced to a teenage relative with body piercings. But perhaps it wasn’t just the contemporary music. The Bach and Biber in the programme were rather like being introduced to an elderly relative with a taste for Agatha Christie. Not the most vibrant of starts, and not helped by empty seats. Teenagers with piercings may be the norm outside in Norwich's Magdalene Street, but sadly they are a lot less popular in the King of Hearts.

No lack of spark in the lunchtime Bach from King of Hearts’ regular Carolyn Gibley. There may have been a capacity audience, but her Journey Across Time stopped at 1750, apart from one singularly inappropriate pastiche item. I know Carolyn is quite upfront in her preference for eighteenth century harpsichord music. But a work such as John Palmer’s Koan from 1999 would have taken us much further into the labyrinth than P.D.Q. Bach.

Different strokes for different folks, and both The London Handel Players and Jane Chapman proved just how rewarding exploring the labyrinth can be. Bohuslav Martinů’s Promenade for flute, violin & harpsichord from The London Mozart players showed that twentieth century music need not be feared, while, in the same concert, Rachel Brown’s performance of a work for flute and tape by Barry Guy eased the King of Hearts into the age of electronica.

Either by luck or good planning Aude Gotto had left the best to last. Jane Chapman (photo above) fears nothing in contemporary music. No tokenism or apologia in her harpsichord recital, which went for the jugular with music by Gyorgy Ligeti, Tōru Takemitsu, plus a first performance, with the composer present, from Jeremy Peyton-Jones who is right there in the labyrinth as a colleague of John Cage. Those that chose the competing television coverage of England losing the Rugby World Cup final instead of Jane’s recital missed a real opportunity to celebrate.

The concerts by The London Mozart Players, Jane Chapman and others were a triumphant endorsement of the vision of a Journey Across Time. I really don’t feel that in 2007 I should be making the case for contemporary music. But the empty seats at several of the concerts suggest I should. If you only feed children baby food they never develop proper teeth, and can’t move on to a nourishing diet that allows them to grow. There is too much baby food in today’s concert programmes and radio schedules. Contemporary music is the aural equivalent of the spicy Hungarian goulash served in the King of Hearts restaurant after Jane Chapman’s inspirational recital. More please Aude.

(c) Bob Shingleton 2008, first published in the newsletter of the King of Hearts Centre for people and the arts winter 2007 newsletter. Related articles:

* Contemporary music - I really enjoyed it! - link
* More of Martinu's music please - link
* Brand new music for harpsichord - link
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More of Martinu's music please

Very successful mixing of old with the new at Norwich's King of Hearts last night in a concert by the quartet of musicians who make up the London Handel Players. The programme included J.S and C.P.E Bach, Handel, Leclair and Barry Guy's admirably uncompromising 1985 "Whistle and Flute" for flutes and eight track tape which was played by the flautist it was written for, Rachel Brown.

But the highlight of an outstanding concert was Bohuslav Martinů's 1940 Promenades for flute, violin and harpsichord, with its angular rhythms and sparkling writing for the harpsichord. A little known gem, and one that had me revisiting some of the many Martinů recordings in my collection.

My love for Martinů's music was sparked by Václav Neumann four LP set of the symphonies with the Czech Philharmonic on Supraphon which dates from the late 1970s. When the CD age dawned I bought Bryden Thomson's Chandos set of the symphonies (now deleted) with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. But sadly that set doesn't have the Slovak 'edge' of the Neumann records, or is that wonderful analogue sound on the Czech LP pressings?

There is much other wonderful Martinů. The Cello Concertos are under-rated, while the Field Mass and opera The Greek Passion are both masterpieces. (The Greek Passion is based on Christ Recrucified [1951], a novel by Nikos Kazantzakis, which opens up another path). Two personal favourites among Martinů's orchestral output can be found on an Erato double CD, the Double Concerto for string orchestra, piano and timpani, and the sublime Frescoes of Piero della Francesca. The Erato CDs are now deleted (which is probably a measure of how far Martinů has fallen out of fashion) but you can still find them.

2009 brings the fiftieth anniversary of Martinů's death. Hopefully this will mean more Martinů and less of some other composers. Meanwhile the King of Hearts' innovative Autumn Festival continues in a few minutes with more Bach, and on Saturday evening Jane Chapman's harpsichord recital includes music by Ligeti, Takemitsu and Jeremy Peyton-Jones, as well as by Rameau, W.F, Bach and Haydn. Thank goodness some concert promoters are still prepared to take risks.

My photo shows Martinů (right) with the American composer Frederick Jacobi and comes from an excellent article by Anton Wagner.

Now download some other Czech delights here.
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Contemporary music - I really enjoyed it!

Aude Gotto writes: When the King of Hearts’ Gallery in Norwich first exhibited my personal collection, composed exclusively of works by living artists, I wrote in the introduction: “This is the collection of someone who didn’t like contemporary art.” A reassurance for the public who generally feels wary of anything "contemporary”, with some reason, it has to be said,in the light of the Turner Prize and other such highlights of the “art world.”

The same wariness applies to modern music, because of what has been termed the “squeaky gate” school, which makes a concert more of a headache than a pleasure. However, I have come a long way over the years, discovering that there are many talented artists and musicians who use a contemporary idiom to express themselves in ways that are both beautiful and arresting, and who are worth making the effort of opening one’s mind to new forms and harmonies.

Indeed we have had quite a number of contemporary works performed at the King of Hearts: the memorable Messiaen recitals by Peter Hill were the initial foray into a world of sound very different from baroque; in 2000 we celebrated the millennium by the commissioning new works, among which the most rewarding was David Bedford’s Quartet, bringing together Piers Adams on recorder, Simon Dinnigan on guitar, Gary Cooper on harpsichord and Tatty Theo on baroque cello. This proved eloquently that a modern composer can write for period instruments with charm and imagination. I was encouraged in the adventure by the comment of an older lady who was a regular attender, and who exclaimed at the end of a concert: "I was rather worried about this contemporary piece and not looking forward to it, but, do you know, I really enjoyed it!”

As far back as 1994, the adventurous harpsichordist Jane Chapman gave a recital which brought together baroque and 20th century music for the instrument; this was quite a revelation, and the reason why we are having her again this year! So we arrive after this rather long preamble, at the theme of this article, the Autumn Festival at the King of Hearts, in Norwich.

The title, Journey across Time, conveys the purpose, which is to cross over barriers, and present music written in the last hundred years as well as baroque favourites. There is an emphasis on Bach and Handel played by some of your favourite performers, so you will no be stretched all the time! But in each concert contrasting contemporary or at least 20th century pieces are included.

The most avant-garde work is a piece for flute and pre-recorded tapes by Jeremy Peyton-Jones, a premiere for the King of Hearts. I trust that flautist Rachel Brown, for whom it was written and who was keen for an opportunity to play it, will present it with her usual musical sensitivity so that we will enjoy the novelty. Another feature is the use of period instruments, such as baroque violin and particularly harpsichord, by modern composers. Stephen Dodgson writes lovely accessible music, Ligeti has toe-tapping rhythms in Hungarian Rock and Takemitsu creates dreamy Japanese harmonises on the harpsichord.

Full details of Journey Across Time from the King of Hearts website, On An Overgrown Path will be there. And stay on the 'old and new' path with Bach and modern technology
Image of 'Boaz Wakes up and finds Ruth at his feet' - original lithograph by Marc Chagall from Aude Gotto's personal collection. Any copyrighted material on these pages is included as "fair use", for the purpose of study, review or critical analysis only, and will be removed at the request of copyright owner(s). Report broken links, missing images and other errors to - overgrownpath at hotmail dot co dot uk

Into Great Silence

“In these letters I have often taken you on my holiday journeys: India, California and Venice. This time it is more of an inner journey which I would like to share. I write under the powerful impression of the film Into Great Silence, which depicts life in the Carthusian monastery of the Grande Chartreuse, in the French Alps, where the monks live mostly in solitude and silence. Some of you may well have seen it, so I will not describe the film, rather convey the feelings and reflections which arose out of it for me. Let me only say that I think it is a masterpiece of photography and film making, quite apart from being a profound experience which has transformed my life in many subtle ways.


In a world where strident noise, frenzied activity and constant stimulation are the daily diet, a film in which hardly anything happens for nearly three hours, with no dialogue, no commentary and no music (except Gregorian chant), is a considerable challenge. However, the queue snaking down the road in front of the Playhouse in Norwich on that winter Sunday afternoon was a striking manifestation of the thirst for something different. Everyone was surprised by this unexpected turn-out, not least the Cinema City staff who struggled to cope. And from start to finish you could have heard a pin drop.


A slow pace, images remaining on the screen for what seemed like minutes, a very strong sense of rhythm – the passing seasons made a counterpoint with the regularity of monastic life, its alternation of solitary prayer, study and community, punctuated by bells – created a spell. In the silence, the natural sounds of everyday living: echoing footsteps in stone passages, large wooden doors opening and closing, chopping wood, cutting cloth, drawing water, and plainchant singing, took on a particular poignancy.


I was struck by how unnatural our lives have become; in this monastery, daily activities are still closely connected with nature and all materials are natural: stone, wood and cloth; vessels are made of clay, tin or wood, not a sign of plastic! Walls are bare, objects are starkly simple and few, but there is not a trace of ugliness. I felt that these men, who live enclosed with no possessions of their own and very few choices, were maybe more free than us, who battle daily with a multiplicity of external possibilities (how many brands of biscuits on the supermarket shelves?) and believe that freedom is to have exactly what we want.


And I reflected on the power of silence, emptiness and the space between things. I have often noticed that what makes a great musician is the ability to breathe, to pause, to hold a note suspended. The inexperienced player tends to rush through, to get the notes right. But without the silence, there is no real music, just a dead sequence of sounds. Silence creates rhythm, and cycles, without which there is no life: as the old wise man in the Bible puts it: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; there is a time to be born and a time to die; a time to break down and a time to build up; a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.”


Without the pauses, the breathing space, the in-between times, there is no harmony, no creation, no unfolding of life. It is not by chance that language has the expression “a pregnant pause”. All creative change needs this space for reflection, this empty time when the old way of being is no more, and the new is not yet. We ignore this at our peril, and our culture, which constantly rushes into action, does not seem to be able to produce any viable, durable change, only vacillation between extremes.”

Aude Gotto writes in the Spring newsletter of the King of Hearts Centre for people and the Arts in Norwich. Into Great Silence is released on DVD in the UK on May 23, and on October 23 in the US. Now read Aude writing about India.

All the stunning images are stills from the film by director Philip Gröning. Any copyrighted material on these pages is included for "fair use", for the purpose of study, review or critical analysis only, and will be removed at the request of copyright owner(s). Report broken links, missing images and other errors to - overgrownpath at hotmail dot co dot uk

The essence of India

Photograph Steve McCurry

Having just returned from 2 weeks in this extraordinary country, I felt that a glimpse of its warmth, scents and colours would perhaps brighten some dark days. I first visited the subcontinent in 1963, touring round the world with my father. I was just 19, and the done thing was of course to go overland with a backpack, but I wasn’t going to turn my nose up to the offer of 2 months in Asia in comfortable hotels! The shock of discovery of another world, where a huge number of people lived with completely different standards and values than those I had grown up with, was one of the significant experiences of my life. I remember feeling with great clarity, on the streets of the holy city of Benares, “the West has lost its soul”.

Amidst the chaos of bullock carts, rickshaws, bicycles, goats, dogs and cows, the riot of colours and smells and the cacophony of truck horns, bells and assorted shouts, I somehow felt at home, and did not resist much when an eager shopkeeper draped me in a sari and exclaimed how well it suited me. Nearly twenty years later, I returned, not as a tourist, but as a pilgrim to the shrine of Meher Baba, the holy man who has given the King of Hearts its inspiration, its name, and the friendly face on its sign.

Photograph Steve McCurry

Since then, I have visited about a dozen times, and the feeling of belonging has remained. India is a country of paradoxes and contradictions, symbolised by its constant contrasts: in the streets of the bazaar, the stench of rotting garbage is suddenly replaced by heavenly fragrances of sandalwood and frangipani; religion is expressed by frozen superstitious rituals and fanaticism as well as refined scholarship, sublime poetry or deep devotion. Deep spirituality and rampant corruption rub shoulders everywhere.

Even though Western influence is rapidly transforming the cities, in rural areas there is still a sense of timelessness and grace; women wear the sari and carry great brass pots on their heads with elegant poise, and the men, slight and dark, greet you with a hand on their heart or joined hands with the traditional “Namaskar”. The site where Meher Baba is buried is a hill on the Deccan plateau, from which the view extends in every direction. A sense of peace pervades the immense space, in spite of the many noises, whistle of a steam train, bird calls of all kinds, shouts of children playing cricket, and tooting horns. Diesel trucks, lavishly decorated in bright colours and tinsel streamers, rattle over the bumpy road producing clouds of smoke. “Horn Please” says the completely unnecessary inscription on the back.

Photograph Steve McCurry

At the bottom of the hill lies a small shrine with a charming story. It belongs to the cook of Queen Victoria, who, having served the Queen for many years, declared that he must now return home to serve God. The Queen accepted regretfully and gave him a purse of gold, which he threw in the river as soon as he arrived back in India, to adopt the life of an itinerant sadhu. He gathered quite a following and one day, led his disciples to a deserted, arid spot outside the city of Ahmednagar, and told them that this was where he should be buried. As they remonstrated, saying: “Master, how will we tend your shrine in this out of the way place”, he replied: “You don’t know what you are talking about. A very great master will come to live here, and the dust of his feet on my grave will be enough to honour it.” Some years later, in 1923, Meher Baba established his headquarters on that very spot, and the saint’s prophecy was realised. Such stories carry some of the essence of India, which remains under the current varnish of materialism, and I believe cannot be lost. Aude Gotto

This inspirational article was written by Aude Gotto. The wonderful music making at the King of Hearts in Norwich, and the beautiful harpsichords made by Alan Gotto have been featured several times On An Overgrown Path, and Aude Gotto is founder and Director & Artistic Manager of the King of Hearts, and her husband is Alan Gotto.

In March there are some very exciting things happening at the King of Hearts. On Saturday 25th March the Tudor building will host a display and demonstration by Alan Gotto of virginals, spinets, harpsichords, clavichords, and square pianos. Keyboard players are invited to bring their own music to try out the instruments.

And on the following day (Sunday 26th March at 11.00am) there is A Morning with Mr. Bach, with harpsichordist and actor Geoffrey Thomas playing and acting the great composer's music and life. Both events should be wonderful, more details from The King of Hearts web site.

Image credits - all from photographer Steve McCurry, his online gallery is unmissable. Image owners - if you do not want your picture used in this article please contact me and it will be removed. Report broken links, missing images and other errors to - overgrownpath at hotmail dot co dot uk
If you enjoyed this post take An Overgrown Path to Messiaen stars in early music festival