R is for Rubato

The Master class with Jorma Panula in Ruse, Bulgaria is now entering its second week. I have enjoyed the first week enormously, the freedom to discuss problems and technique with ones colleagues and peers doesn’t come around frequently for conductors, we are solitary beasts.

I have taken the podium three times, each has been different in its way and it is the opportunity to discuss the sessions with Panula and the other participants of the master class that makes this experience unique. All the conductors are very sympathetic, there is no bitchiness or jealousy and comments are freely exchanged and discussed. Whilst there are no cliques we do mix and discuss matters mostly with the colleagues who are sharing the same hotel. The group I am staying with are very open, honest and helpful. It has been enlightening discussing my sessions with them and I try to contribute something meaningful to theirs.

My first session was on the 4th movement of Mahler’s epic 3rd Symphony. The piece lasts about 90 minutes, the first movement taking over 30. The 4th movement is very slow and features a low female vocal solo. It is not that difficult to play once all the parties know what they are doing, but can be frustrating whilst everyone is learning. Before I went on the orchestra were getting a little restless and the chat level was rising. When I got to the podium my first priority was firmly but politely to put a stop to this. Those reading this who know my rehearsal technique will know that I like to be in control, and that when I need to establish this I do it with my voice. It’s loud! The orchestra were soon persuaded to pay a bit more attention and we got some useful work done. I was not particularly happy with my conducting, but I established a good relationship with the singer by giving her time to be expressive when she needed it (in my experience this is the quickest way to a singer’s heart).

After my 15 minutes were up I left the podium reasonably satisfied but annoyed that I had made a number of small but basic mistakes with my beat. The singer seemed happy but disappointed that we couldn’t finish the movement, Maestro Panula made a few comments but seemed satisfied. I had got my first appearance over and done with, and several of my colleagues congratulated me.

My second appearance on the podium was to do the 5th movement, this also features the alto singer but Mahler adds female and children’s choruses to the mix. Several of the conductors wanted to have a go at this movement but no-one wanted to go first and this slot refused to fill. I work with choruses all the time, I have four children and I used to teach. I felt that I could also use my (now infamous) voice to get them going. Up I stepped.

The choruses were in the hall with the orchestra for the first time so I knew that they would need some encouragement. This was given in the form of firm direction and careful rehearsal, once again I used my voice at full power and the results were obtained. The kids, who of course were shy and unsure opened their mouths after a while and the “Bims” and “Bams” started to ring through the hall. At the end of my time one of the organisers of the course came straight up to me, shook my hand and congratulated me on a good job. “That’s the way to do it”. Some of the other conductors were not so sure, and worried that I had frightened the children. They didn’t sound frightened, but I was concerned about this. I had made a small joke at one point, and I could immediately tell that about two of the children spoke good English as they laughed before the translation had filtered through. I saw one of these young ladies passing so I gently enquired about whether I had been a bit OTT for them, “No, not at all, you did very well!”. But nevertheless I took notice that some of the adults thought I was a bit too aggressive with the youngsters.

I was discussing this session with one of my colleagues, and was deciding what to do in my next. There were still problems with wind intonation in the first movement so I was wondering whether to spend some time sorting this out. My colleague suggested that I had already proven I could rehearse and sort out problems; it was time for me to do some music. This was a very kind and helpful suggestion and I was very grateful for it. My favourite movement in Mahler three is the 6th, the Adagio. I decided to take this on.

I had already heard several people rehearse this and I felt that something was still missing. Mahler is not played frequently in Bulgaria and we could all tell that the orchestra did not know the piece at all. The 6th movement, which is passionate and very beautiful had not yet reached the state where it really had begun to live, so I would try to see if I could get it going.

What I had noticed in particular is that no other conductor had tried to get any sort of rubato in this movement. Rubato is when a phrase is stretched or compressed in time to make it more expressive, singers use it a great deal and one of the challenges of opera is to get the orchestra to follow a singer’s rubato, Mahler was a great opera conductor and Richard Strauss commented on his rubato so I felt justified in taking this approach to his orchestral music. I set myself the task of putting as much rubato into the movement as I could. Even if it didn’t work musically it would be fun to try to get the orchestra to follow my beat as I pulled and pushed the music around.

I expected to have to stop in the rehearsal and correct things, and I did not want to get to the end as I wanted to save the brass player’s lips. The end of the movement is a series of D major chords played fortissimo. I started the movement and immediately started doing some outrageous rubati, the orchestra cottoned on fairly quickly and within a few minutes they had learnt to expect me to pull every phrase around. I kept going and before I knew it the end of the movement was approaching, it arrived and the brass seemed willing to play so I got to the end and we played the thundering D major chords and timpani blows with great style.

The orchestral gave me a brief round of applause at the end and I descended the podium quite satisfied. I was immediately congratulated by another member of the organising team and one or two of my colleagues. I said “I got through it in 20 minutes, it must have been really fast!” One of my colleagues replied “Sometimes you must let go of the written notes and let the emotion take over” and another said “No, not fast, moving.” I was quite pleased at these remarks and was feeling quite content and a bit pleased with myself.

I was just about to re-enter the hall to listen to the next rehearsal when I realised that I was feeling a quite odd, I left the hall and was walking to the foyer when I became quite overcome and didn’t know what to do with myself. I found a quiet corner, sat down for 20 minutes and gathered myself together. I do respond emotionally to music, I have been very moved in the past by performances I have conducted of Mahler’s Kindertotenlieder, but I have never been taken so completely by surprise before. I had no idea that I had become so emotional.

I tried to think back to the rehearsal and realised that for large sections of my rehearsal I had no recollection of the music, however much I tried I could not remember how it had gone! Later that day I had a video session with Panula, I expected to find much of what I had done to be over the top, and this was indeed the case. I commented at one point “There is so much rubato it sounds like opera” and Panula said at another “Not bad for film music”. But at another he said “This is love”, found the comment at the front of the score pointing out that Mahler had said of this movement “What love tells me”. While I’m sure Panula thought that much of what I had done was unnecessary he seemed pleased with other bits and pleased with my orchestral control.

The following day I asked to see the video of this session in full, and watched it with great interest. The passages of which I had no recollection sounded OK, and the video prompted memories of several gestures and technical details, but even now I cannot properly recall much of what happened. I must have been completely “in the moment” a phrase which I have previously dismissed as meaningless.

I must like this music more that I thought.