Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Conversations with Joseph Flummerfelt

I was excited when I heard this book was being published in 2010; conductor interviews/bios/memoirs are among some of my favorite things to read. It is divided into six parts: The Early Years, Philosophy - The Crossing, Preparing for Major Conductors, Thoughts on Composers, Choral Sound, Conducting, and Culture, and Conclusion. It is an an interview format; the content of the book is based on conversations between Donald Nally and Joseph Flummerfelt.

Flummerfelt's earliest musical influences were his mother, who taught him piano, and the church, for which he played music for during his youth. Following this, he went to DePauw University for his undergraduate, and then worked at Purdue. Following that, he worked with Elaine Brown in Philadelphia with the Singing City Choir, and did graduate study at the Philadelphia Conservatory of Music.  Other major influences included Julius Herford and Roger Wagner, as well as Harold Decker (University of Illinois). The quote that struck me from the first chapter was one from Erich Leinsdorf, who said, "The art of conducting is knowing when not to conduct." Flummerfelt was discussing how during his work with Elaine Brown he felt that her "penchant for constantly making the music exciting rarely allowed it to simply hover," which caused him to recall this quote. How true I believe that it. It is a quality I have observed in other conductors; you can tell they have let go of the sound. I am often guilty of overconducting, trying to micromanage, trying to keep together and bring forth everything I can. Flummerfelt said he tells his students "while the conductor generates flow, ebb can only be allowed to happen."

Chapter 2 covers the influences of Boulanger. I am always fascinated when reading stories from those who studied with Boulanger. Flummerfelt describes his first day, being blown away as she played the first prelude from The Well-Tempered Clavier, while the students were to record the root movement. He spoke of how Boulanger understood the importance of letting the composer’s voice shine through. Indeed, a reminder as to who our first obligation belongs.

The next early influence discussed Robert Shaw. The interesting thing about the discussion is how Flummerfelt speaks so candidly about how he came to reject some of Shaw's beliefs, and how he thought Shaw's music making changed almost for the worse throughout the years. Flummerfelt recalled a specific conversation early in his career:

"We were discussing a certain piece, and I asked him about the meaning of the text-the text's relationship to the music. He looked at me and said, "I think that's gobbledygook." I was just devastated."

I think Flummerfelt's thesis on Shaw was that he had such a gift, such power inside, that he became fearful of it, and as the years went on, his performances lost the spontaneity they had early in his career. He also felt that Shaw had too great of a reliance on cross-beat, cross-bar phrasing, which Flummerfelt describes as "leading into every beat by weighting the weak part of the preceding beat."

Flummerfelt in no way diminishes Shaw as a great figure of the choral art; he just makes very interesting observations about the path of his career. The final influence discussed is Menotti and the Spoleto festivals. I didn't realize how wide a variety of art forms the Spoleto festival covers, so this was an interesting read.
Chapter 5 and 6 cover "The Crossing," "the perfect alignment of cognitive and intuitive that allows art to happen.” In essence, these two chapters are about balance. First, the balance of the vertical and horizontal aspects of the musical line, realizing that there are times when the vertical nature of the line is more important than the horizontal. The most important part of the concept of ‘the crossing,’ however, is the idea that our intuitive and cognitive must be balanced. That often we get too much caught up in the technical, and fail to open our bodies and our gesture to the moment. This opening up, this vulnerability, I believe is what we all long for as musicians. I think it’s also would equate to what Weston Noble calls the ‘special world.’ Flummerfelt believes at the core of this experience is the breath, and that much of his conducting instructions centers around getting students to understand the breath.

Parts III and IV (chapters 7-14) covers Flummerfelt’s thoughts on major conductors he had worked with, as well as his thoughts on a variety of 20th century composers. The number of names discussed in these 50 pages is simply too much to summarize. The discussion on conductors covers Bernstein, Boulez, Mehta, Giulini, Masur, Abbado, Muti, and Levine. The discussion on composers covers Stravinsky, Barber, Britten, Copland, Schoenberg, Messiaen, Glass, Adams, Berg, and Penderecki, among others.

Parts V and VI (chapters 15-18) covers choral sounds, conducting, culture, and also conclude the book. Flummerfelt discusses the influence of Frauke Haasemann on the Westminster program as well as on his own personal philosophy of voice building. It was also interesting to read how Haasemann was so supportive of Flummerfelt during the beginning of his tenure at Westminster when he was facing opposition from certain faculty members.  Flummerfelt also discusses how devoted students and faculty were to Williamson and his sound, and how he went about the process of moving Westminster to a different concept of tone.
When finally asked what he wants his legacy to be, Flummerfelt states he hopes that he will have led some to discover their “innermost humanity.” That, in essence, is what much of this book is about – a legacy in the profession discussing his thoughts on the choral art and how to achieve the musical moments that have caused so many to believe in its power.

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