James Strecker Reviews the Arts

Raphaëlle Photography

James Strecker: If you were asked for 50 words for an encyclopaedia to summarize what you do, or have done, in the arts, what would you say?

Hannah French: Hannah French (PhD. MMus. BMus. LRAM. ARAM.) is a Musical Butterfly: Broadcaster (BBC); Researcher (Eighteenth Century and BBC Proms); Critic (BBC Music Magazine); Performer (Baroque Flute); Public Speaker (Pre-concert Talks, Festival Lectures, Listening Clubs); Educator (Children’s Music Classes, Undergraduate Music Degrees, Music Appreciation Classes); Collaborator (TV Historian, Music Consultant).

JS: What important beliefs do you express in or through your work?

HF: That the history of music is a living tale of musical people having experiences that everyone can relate to in one way or another. I aspire to be the portkey.

JS: Name two people, living or dead, whom you admire a great deal and tell us why for each one.

HF: Both dead, and both unjustly famed for being wives of great men:

First, pianist Natasha Spender; the ‘omnicompetent wife of one of the 20th century’s most famous poets’. I worked for Natasha for a couple of summers, predominantly transcribing her late husband’s diaries. But the labels do her little justice as the true artist she was in her own right. Over the long summer evenings, she taught me a huge amount about life in the arts: from dealing with love and loss, to adapting your dreams. She performed at the first televised Last Night of the Proms, and planted the seeds of my obsession with the Proms – she was the one who taught me that the mark of a successful achievement is the realisation it’s become an obsession.

Second, soprano Anna Magdalena Bach; the second wife of the composer Johann Sebastian. We have to read through so many lines to catch sight of her, but despite that there is much to admire. A professional singer (doubtless performing Bach’s spectacular secular cantatas at the Court of Cöthen), she managed a huge musical household and continued her career – but to what extent we’re unsure as of course history neglects women. Her manuscripts and notebooks prove her talent – but no, I don’t believe she wrote the Cello Suites.

JS: How have you changed since you began to do creative work?

HF: I don’t remember a time when work wasn’t creative. I performed from a young age, chose creative subjects throughout my education, devised my own courses to teach undergraduates for over a decade at the Royal Academy of Music (London, UK), and now freelance in various fields as a musicologist. I would say that since I began broadcasting, I feel I’ve found my creative home and my own voice, which has brought renewed confidence and inspiration.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

HF: I’m a workaholic perfectionist caught up in a disabled body. I have Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and wage a daily battle with pain. But this can bring focus too.

JS: Please describe at least one major turning point in your life.

HF: Two major turning points stand out for me now:

The first was in my last year of school. I was told, very loudly and in front of a full room of 18-year-olds, that I’d never make it as a musician as I ‘couldn’t hack making mistakes’. It was mortifying, but has driven me. I’m still working on dealing with making mistakes.

The second was a long embrace with my husband Paul, under the beautiful Victorian Christmas lights of my home-town of Leeds (UK) on 12 November 2014. It’s like a gleaming moment in time. Minutes earlier I’d passed my PhD viva. The day before I’d been in the studio at Radio3 pre-recording my first proper feature reviewing newly released recordings. That week I’d finally made some progress with my health and mobility. I was pregnant. It was the start of a new chapter in taking control, personally and creatively: I had choices and new aspirations. I haven’t looked back.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about what you do?

HF: There’s no line between work and pleasure. I love that. But sometimes I crave silence, or Netflix. And I’m NEVER finished, it’s just simply time to stop and have a G&T.

JS: How and why did you begin to do creative work in the first place?

HF: I sang before I spoke.

JS: What haven’t you attempted as yet that you would like to do and please tell us why?

HF: Write short stories – because there are too many musical things I want to do first.

JS: What are your most meaningful achievements?

HF: In terms of meaningfulness, being a doctor of music has nothing on a doctor of medicine. But music is medicine for the soul, and the most meaningful achievements are those when you make even a fleeting difference to someone’s life. There’s little so rewarding as a child singing back a tune or finding a rhythm, a student realising why things that have been instinctive all make sense, or an adult discovering that a musical experience can change the way they feel about themselves or the world. It’s powerful alchemy.

JS: What advice would you give a young person who would like to do what you do?

HF: If you think you need a plan B, you are chasing the wrong profession, but be prepared to adapt plan A. And celebrate small victories.

JS: Of what value are critics?

HF: I sit on both sides of this, being one and being subjected to them. Everyone is a critic whether they choose to voice their opinions or not. But critics are not just about criticism and these days when there are so many platforms for anyone to review pretty much anything, we’re returning to seek out cultural gatekeepers and a trusted voice. Ultimately the value of critics lies in the collective fascination with one person’s opinion, on one day, of one performance.

JS: What do you ask of your audience?

HF: To tune into BBCRadio3 with an open mind and an open ear.

JS: What specifically would you change about what goes on in the world and the arts?

HF: Manners. Seriously. The world over, and through every walk of life. Manners make you stop and think for a split second. If there were better manners on the road, I would arrive at my destination in a better frame of mind. People feel valued and appreciated when they are thanked. Please goes a long way in affecting change. It’s the same in the arts. It has to be genuine and we are all responsible.

JS: If you could relive one experience from your creative life, what would it be and why would you do so?

HF: A recent one: February 2016. I was introducing a brilliant performance recorded live by the Dunedin Consort and John Butt of John Blow’s ‘Venus and Adonis for The Early Music Show on BBC Radio 3.
I’d previously been a guest on various radio shows, but this was my first time hosting. The script was relatively brief, but I’d agonized over it. It felt like a real responsibility to craft something meaningful and a chance to do something I’d aspired to for such a long time – I really wanted to get it right. Having always performed or spoken in real time, I didn’t expect the process of studio recording to feel as creative as it did and I loved it. It was one of those days when the producer who had booked me was ill so another stood in at the last minute, but that turned out to be a very good thing. In that short time, he helped me glimpse the art of broadcasting and I was hooked. I left Broadcasting House on cloud nine.

JS: Tell us what it feels like to be a figure who is presented somehow in the media. What effect does this presence have on you?

HF: I’m new to the media, and not remotely recognizable. However, I’ve already realised the benefit of having a professional photograph which says what you want it to be about your character – especially if people only hear your voice. I’m really grateful to photographer (and soprano) Christina Raphaëlle Haldane, for teaching me this and taking my photo.

JS: Name two places you would like to visit, one you haven’t been to and one to experience again and briefly tell us why.

HF: Jerusalem has been on my must-visit list for years. I suppose it’s the allure of experiencing the historic crossroads of culture, religion, food etc, but I would return in a heartbeat to the summer sun of Tuscany, with my family and a big pile of books.

JS: Please tell us about one or more projects that you have been working on, are preparing, or have recently completed. Why do they matter to you and why should they matter to us?

HF: I’m currently researching and scripting an edition of The Early Music Show (BBC Radio3) which I’ll present for broadcast at the end of January 2018. It’s about the Vingt-Quatre Violons du Roi, a string ensemble resident at the French Courts of Kings Louis XIII, XIV, and XV. They are responsible for the orchestra as we know it today thanks to their organization, make-up, performance practices, and repertoire. We refer to them ever-so often in passing, but many specifics are still lost in the mists of time.

It matters to me that we take time to unpack even the things that we think we know about; there are always surprises. I hope that the finished product of an hour-long Early Music Show gets the grey matter going and whets the musical appetite for more. Ultimately, I want people to ask more questions.

Why should it matter? Because knowledge matters. Artistic knowledge enriches, and it’s a collective task. I couldn’t put it better than Tom Stoppard in Arcadia: “We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind.”

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you work. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

HF: I get depressed every time music education is labelled non-essential, or an add-on for privileged kids. The enormous benefits from both the art and science of music have been proved time and again, but it seems that’s not always enough to keep music in the core curriculum. My heart sinks when I learn that national music organizations hold courses in school holidays of private (fee-paying) schools, thus excluding state school students and fostering the perception that classical music in particular is elitist. It’s not, but that attitude can easily trickle through society.

On the flip side, I have hope when initiatives are put in motion that have very real, incredibly positive effects. Take the BBC’s 10 Pieces. In its third year, the concept of school students exploring the context and construction of a manageable, hugely varied, set list of works through online resources and live performances energises and simply makes music accessible. There’s very, very rarely any need to dumb down classical music. It just needs the right platform.

JS: Finally, what do you yourself find to be the most intriguing and/or surprising thing about you?

HF: There was time when I rode a horse through a McDonald’s drive-thru. Regularly.

JAMES STRECKER: If you were asked for 50 words for an encyclopedia to summarize what you do, or have done, in the arts, what would you say?

KRISZTINA SZABÓ: I stole this from my own website bio, but I think it answers the question appropriately! “Krisztina Szabó, Hungarian-Canadian mezzo-soprano, exemplifies today’s modern singer. She is vocally versatile, possesses excellent stage prowess and paints vivid character portraits on both the opera and concert stages, and is well-known within Canada as a passionate interpreter of new music.”

JS: What important beliefs do you express in or through your work?

KS: I’m not sure what beliefs I necessarily express through my singing. I try to infuse each performance with as much honesty of emotion as I can while being faithful to the text of the piece and the intentions of the composer.

JS: Name two people, living or dead, whom you admire a great deal and tell us why for each one.

KS: I had the honour of meeting Maureen Forrester as a young child in the Toronto Children’s Chorus. She was a true Canadian icon – an incredible voice with an international career, but down-to-earth, warm, easy, with an amazing sense of humour. I admired her so much, and the more I learn about her, the more my admiration grows. She had an extraordinary career, a large family and still managed to be kind and generous to everyone she encountered. I think that says so much. And I greatly admire Barbara Hannigan, Canadian soprano and conductor. To witness her evolution as an artist has been truly remarkable. She is fiercely intelligent, unbelievably open and daring as an artist, ambitious, talented and has remained thoughtful and generous as a person and colleague.

JS: How have you changed since you began to do creative work?

KS: I honestly can’t remember a time when music was not a part of my life, so to say when it “began” is a challenge… being a musician, being a singer, simply has always been who I am. I have always thought, and I now tell my students, what a gift it is to be a singer because it’s a lifelong journey, always evolving and changing, and it provides a unique opportunity for self-exploration. I feel like my evolution as a singer and as a person have gone hand in hand.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

KS: There are many challenges to living life as a self-employed classical singer. The three things that leap to mind are health, financial stability and loneliness. As a singer, if I am not healthy, I cannot sing, and therefore will not be paid. There are no “sick days” for singers – you can either sing or you can’t. Consequently, I have figured out how to sing through illness and, (knock on wood), in 20 years of singing professionally I have yet to have cancelled anything due to illness. But, that comes at a cost – singing through colds, singing after having spent the night in emergency with food poisoning, singing with a slight fever… all this is taxing physically as well as mentally. And the paranoia about staying healthy can be all-consuming – ask any singer what their regimen is for staying healthy, as well as for dealing with illness, you will find that they have quite a comprehensive answer for you! As for finances, when every year looks entirely different from one to the next, depending on what contracts have been booked, it is extremely challenging to find any sense of stability, and sense of peace about what the future holds.

And as for the loneliness… as I write this, I sit in a hotel room away from my husband and daughter, contemplating the next few weeks I will spend on the road, and the contracts in 2018 that will take me away from my family for at least 4 months of the year. I am fortunate to have a husband who works in the arts, and understands and appreciates what I do, but it is challenging to have a family life when there is so much time spent apart. And though the other singers and musicians that I meet on gigs are often lovely people, a lot of my time is spent doing exactly what I am doing right now… sitting alone in my hotel room. I just read a quote today from renowned mezzo-soprano, Felicity Palmer, that sums up the challenges of being a singer: “You need to look at whether becoming a singer is a life or death issue because if it isn’t, it’s a tough kind of life.”

JS: Please describe at least one major turning point in your life.

KS: The most significant turning point I have had in my life I would say happened while I was in university. I began my studies as the University of Western Ontario (now Western University) as a piano major enrolled in the Music Education programme. I had plans on being a high school music teacher. My strict Hungarian father had reservations about this plan – he had hoped I would be a doctor or a lawyer, so doing this degree at all was a challenge to begin with. I met my voice teacher, Dr. Darryl Edwards, while at Western and began taking singing lessons with him on Saturdays, outside of my degree programme. I had always sung, but had never taken a private singing lesson until I met Dr. Edwards.

In my second year of university, I began having what I would say was an allergic reaction to playing the piano – my hands started crack and bleed when I played. I had to defer my jury that year. It was sometime during that time that I realized that I would much rather be a voice major, so in third year, I changed majors from piano to voice. But it was in 4th year university, that I began to really question whether or not I wanted to be a music teacher at all. Performance opportunities at the university presented themselves, and something in me clicked. It was like I knew who I was when I was singing on stage – it somehow felt like I could finally express the truest version of myself… and it was an addictive feeling. I went on to defy the wishes of my family, and defy the expectations of pretty much everybody else that an Education major would be able to make a career as a performer, and I abandoned the plans to go to Teachers’ College. Instead, I threw myself off the metaphoric cliff into the unknown abyss by saying to myself and the world: “I want to be singer”.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about what you do?

KS: I don’t really think “outsiders” understand what a complicated set of challenges I have to face as a singer trying to make a life and a living as an artist. As I mentioned, there are no sick days, there is very little (except a little bit through unions) in the way of a pension plan. My life looks entirely different from one day to the next – this is not necessarily a bad thing, but does not make for a sense of calm and stability. Performing makes for adrenaline highs and lows that are very taxing on the body. Being a singer and having a family is extremely challenging – having a child at all was terrifying because I thought that perhaps it meant that I would no longer be able to have a career, that I would thought as “not committed enough” because I dared to have a life outside the career.

I have to learn a crazy amount of music. I have to be impeccably prepared for each contract in hopes that the company will not only like me, but that they will like me enough to hire me again. I have to get up in front of people and open up my soul sometimes when I’m not well, or facing personal challenges – for example, when my father passed away, I was in the middle of an opera contract and had to sing that final show. I face constant criticism, I have to hustle to get work, I have to make sure to stay relevant as I age in an industry that increasingly values youth and “the next superstar”. It must seem like a very strange and bemusing life to an outsider!

JS: How and why did you begin to do creative work in the first place?

KS: Like I said, being a singer is just who I am. As a child, I sang all the time around the house, and teachers at school noted my singing ability and often put me forward for solos at school events. In Grade 3, my teacher sent me to audition for the Toronto Children’s Chorus, which really began my more concentrated involvement with singing. And around the same time, I had begun piano lessons. Once I was more formally involved with music, it became my life.

JS: What haven’t you attempted as yet that you would like to do and please tell us why?

KS: I would love to sing the role of Octavian in Strauss’ opera Der Rosenkavalier… it is a dream role of mine, and it would be lovely to have that dream realized one day!

JS: What are your most meaningful achievements?

KS: Personally, my most meaningful achievement is of course my daughter. Professionally, being able to say that I have been singing professionally for 20 years – and that I’m not done yet! – is my most meaningful achievement.

JS: What advice would you give a young person who would like to do what you do?

KS: I have been asked by young singers for advice on this matter, and I respond by first telling them my story. I tell them of the challenges I have faced, and the joys as well. I tell them what people told me “If you want to do anything else, do it. But if singing is absolutely the only thing you want to do, then go for it.” I tell them that they will get advice/criticism/feedback from pretty much everybody and his brother, and that it is really important to find your own voice, listen to your own instincts and know what is true, what is right for you.

JS: Of what value are critics?

KS: Nothing stings more than bad review or a review that doesn’t even mention (shock! horror!) your performance. Some of my colleagues do not read reviews because they say: “If you believe the good ones, then you have to believe the bad ones.” I am masochistic and read everything – also, one has to put the good reviews on one’s website! I really have to remind myself that a critic’s review is simply one person’s opinion – sometimes I read reviews of performances I have seen myself and totally disagree with what has been written. But reading my reviews has definitely toughened me up, and made me come to peace with how I feel about my own performance, who I am as a singer and what I have to offer.

JS: What do you ask of your audience?

KS: All I ask of my audience is to be open to the experience of what they are about hear and see. And maybe pre-open those candy wrappers and turn off their cell phones! Oh, and also, please don’t look at me with a look that is totally disgruntled and/or bored… I can see you and it’s very distracting!

JS: What specifically would you change about what goes on in the world and the arts?

KS: Well, there is so much I would change in the world – there is so much going on right now, frankly, it’s overwhelming. But with the recent happenings in Hollywood (i.e. the Weinstein case), it has made me think about women’s place in society and in my career specifically. Its time that women were truly valued as equals to men, that women were paid the same as men, that harassment was not something I have to teach my daughter to expect to happen to her.

JS: If you could relive one experience from your creative life, what would it be and why would you do so?

KS: If I’m being greedy, there are many experiences I would love to relive. But the one that pops to mind from recent memory is singing The Woman in Erwartung at the Canadian Opera Company. It felt like the culmination of years of hard work, singing a role that was an absolute gift in an amazing production I had long admired, with a company that has nurtured and supported me from the beginning, doing it in my own home-town. It was a sweet moment that I would happily relive.

JS: Tell us what it feels like to be a figure who is presented somehow in the media. What effect does this presence have on you?

KS: I’m not sure how “presented” I am in the media. I do my work, its get reviewed, and when companies are looking to promote shows I am in, I will obviously do any and all the publicity. I don’t really think about that too much. Its odd when someone recognizes me – I like to think of myself as a working singer and I’m always surprised if someone knows me from my work.

JS: Name two places you would like to visit, one you haven’t been to and one to experience again and briefly tell us why

KS: I am still dreaming of a Caribbean vacation at some point in my life that has yet to happen – sun, sand, beach and a little time off would be lovely! Iceland was on my bucket list, but my family and I went there last summer, so I can cross that off. Hmmm… I would like to go to Japan. It seems like an incredible place, and I’ve always been fascinated by Japanese culture.

JS: Please tell us about one or more projects that you have been working on, are preparing, or have recently completed. Why do they matter to you and why should they matter to us?

KS: Last week, I was in Montreal with Ensemble Contemporain de Montréal singing Ana Sokolovic’s Pesma. As I write this, I am in rehearsals with Arion Baroque Orchestra for a concert for the Montreal Bach Festival. After this, it’s Messiah season – with Vancouver Early Music, Newfoundland Symphony Orchestra and Toronto Symphony Orchestra. And in the new year, the first half of the year is dedicated to British composer, George Benjamin – first singing with Opera Philadelphia in his opera, Written on Skin, then débuting his new opera, Lessons in Love and Violence, at the Royal Opera House in London, England. I must admit that I am excited about all of it – I love the variety of music that I get to sing – from Bach to contemporary – and I love the people I get work with… its all quality music-making with talented musicians, from small ensembles to large orchestras.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you work. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

KS: A few years ago, it seemed like there were a lot of opera companies and orchestras going under which felt very disheartening. But I feel like there is a new movement in music – of doing smaller projects in unique venues…companies like Tapestry Opera and Against the Grain Theatre (Toronto) who are revolutionizing the music scene by, as AtG writes, “presenting classical music in innovative ways and in unusual venues.” This movement excites me – the hunger for classical music is not gone, it is perhaps transforming. I for one am excited to explore this transformation, as an artist as well as audience member. And this does not make large operas or orchestral experiences less relevant – I think these more intimate experiences will serve to spark and feed new audiences, build a new following and get them excited about classical music so that going to an opera or orchestra concert will be a natural progression of that excitement.

JS: Finally, what do you yourself find to be the most intriguing and/or surprising thing about you?

KS: I don’t that I’m particularly intriguing! Maybe the most surprising thing about me is that I consider myself an introvert. Performing in front of a large audience is completely natural. Talking to people is not so natural!