2 weeks to go...

With only two & a half weeks left to the performance, I feel like I’m in the ‘end game’ of my preparations – as I should be by now!

I’ve recently finished yet another trip through the 102-page score, checking and amending my annotations. I have to stand 2-3 feet from the score I play from – it has to go behind the vibraphone, plus I have to move around to reach the other instruments. And the tablet I’m playing from is just slightly smaller than A4. The result is, Feldman’s occasionally scrappy handwritten score is often hard for me to read, and I’ve needed to put my own notes all over it.

I’m using different coloured highlighter for each instrument (red for vibraphone, green for glockenspiel and so on). The time signature changes pretty much every bar, so I’ve reinforced that visually with a light blue shorthand. I’ve written in many of the pitches in purple (at a distance, it’s not always clear which lines the notes are written on) and I’ve gone over the many repeat marks in red. And I have to change sticks repeatedly throughout the piece depending on which instrument I’m playing at the time, so all those changes are marked in with little diagrams!

The result is colourful, clear, and easy to read - for me, at least!  I’ve come up with the system over a series of refinements, changing things after each rehearsal and again during my practice. On the whole, I’ve simplified and reduced the markings as I get to know the piece better - after all, too much ‘extra’ writing on the page can be distracting. But it’s hard to know how I’ll feel after 3 hours of concentrated playing, and how much help my poor addled brain (and eyes) will need.

I’ve found the whole process of writing and rewriting my annotations to be incredibly useful. It’s pushed me to consider the fine detail of the piece and the inter-relationship between instruments in ways that I can miss when practicing at my instruments. I’ve picked up on more of the compositional detail & noticed more clearly the way the patterns of notes gradually evolve and recur, and I feel like it’s helped all the information settle into my brain just as much as my actual practice has. It’s been a really important part of learning the piece on a practical level, as well as helping to get my head inside it creatively.

And an added bonus is that it helps me to spot where Feldman made mistakes in his notation, and correct it for him. You’re welcome, Morton!

-Adam B

Preparation

The thing I’m finding hardest about learning For Philip Guston is concentration. 3.5-4 hours of absolute focus feels quite daunting! The performers really can’t let their mind drift during the piece, as although there are some sections where a soloist will emerge for a period while the others pause, the interplay of complex rhythms and awkwardly grouped repeats is non stop. The physical endurance of the piece also affects concentration - it’s hard not to get drawn into thinking about how to shuffle in your seat to get more comfy, or to feel desperate to stand and walk.

Preparation feels vital to all aspects - setting the stage so that you are comfortable, instruments are in reach, and sight lines are good will all be essential. Allowing thoughts to come and go without being pulled to think about what is coming next or something you missed is a practise I’m working on. Meditation might help, along with a physical warm up before each session. It is a quiet, solemn masterpiece, and requires great discipline. We’ve decided not to do a complete run until the day, but will have done a split run in the week leading up to the performance. Like marathon training (I say, as if I’ve done one!), we intend to use the adrenaline of the performance to assist!

Keyboards

Photo credit: Agata Urbaniak

Adam Swayne -

For our performance on November 2nd, alongside the Friends’ Meeting House’s resident Yamaha piano, I’ll be playing a Scheidmeyer 5 octave celeste.

In our 2016 and 2018 performances of Feldman’s “Crippled Symmetry” I was playing a different metallophone. This was a dulcitone, a rare instrument in which felt hammers strike tuning forks instead of the metal plates of the celeste. That particular dulcitone was beautifully restored by Michael Gamble, and is now resident at Sussex Downs College. 

The celeste and the dulcitone were both developed in the second half of the nineteenth century and with similar motivations. The celeste was created in Paris by the harmonium builder Auguste Mustel (celeste meaning ‘heavenly’ in French), and the dulcet tones of the dulcitone were invented in Glasgow by Thomas Machell. 

The dulcitone is much softer than the celeste, which isn’t really a problem for Feldman. However, the range of “For Philip Guston” is larger than “Crippled Symmetry”, so it’s essential that we source the correct instrument for this performance.

Despite its frequent use in orchestral music, the celeste is also quite rare, and ensembles often compete to hire them on busy weekends. Many balk at the fees and prefer to arrange instead for a usable sound sample on an electronic keyboard in (for example) the opening of Harry Potter or the final movement of The Planets. The ability to easily raise or lower the volume can be particularly useful in these situations!

Nevertheless, for this substantial and mesmeric work, the effect of delicate metal sounds across the ensemble – from tensile piano strings, to flutes of different sizes, and aluminium bars of glockenspiel and vibraphone – called out for an authentic and glistening celeste. And that’s what you’ll hear. 😊

In terms of what you’ll see, keep a look out for my legs stretched across the sustaining pedals for each instrument. Ensuring a comfortable seating position before we begin will be essential!

P.S.

Incidentally, my favourite use of the celeste (apart from in Feldman of course) is in the song “Everyday” by Buddy Holly. 

*Competition Time* - anyone who can fully identify all the other sounds featured in that track will win a free ticket to our Brighton performance at 14:30 on 2nd November 2024, at the Friends’ Meeting House

Photo courtesy of Agata Urbaniak

Getting started

Adam B -

It’s been a long time coming, but Adam, Helen & I have now actually started rehearsing For Philip Guston. But one of the issues I keep on dwelling on is how to actually rehearse it. Starting a new piece of music is usually easy enough, but this is unlike anything else I’ve come across - it’s just so long.

But for me, its length is one of its attractions. I find long-duration and/or repetitive music to be really fascinating. It creates an experience that can’t be had any other way. Whether you approach a long piece as a form of meditation, an exercise in deep listening, or the chance to wallow in an ambient texture, the journey through the piece is always unique and the silence when you finish never sounds like the silence before you start.

But needless to say, the length also brings its own distinct problems. You can’t just play through it, and its really hard to get a sense of the overall shape of the piece – or even whether the piece can be said to have an ‘overall shape’ in the first place.

All the musicians play from the same score, which is 102 pages long (we’re all playing off tablets which makes the page-turns a lot easier, though we mustn’t forget to charge them!). To get started, we chose three sections to work on - roughly 10 pages each from the beginning, middle and end logically enough! Between them, they include some representative textures & types of material, and allow us to try out a number of different approaches to counting, cuing & coordination.

They’ve also given me plenty of ideas about what sort of markings might be helpful to write in directions on my music, and what sort of info I’ll need to be aware of in performance.

The music is incredibly difficult to play together, although sometimes very easy to play on your own. But it is amazing how quickly it starts to sound like Feldman. His music is so distinctive, it really doesn’t sound like anyone else – you definitely couldn’t improvise this!

It’s a long, long piece and we’re at the start of a long road to learn it – but it’s already being incredibly rewarding. Roll on November 2nd

Broken Line Trio

A brief introduction to this page - Broken Line Trio, which is Adam Bushell (percussion), Adam Swayne (piano) and I (Helen Whitaker - flute), are continuing our love affair with performing Morton Feldman’s epic trios, we’ve decided to embark on a new project. In November 2024 we’ll perform For Philip Guston in Brighton (details coming soon). We’re going to post about our journey of learning the work and reflecting on the experience as we go! - Helen