Season 09/10 sees the world premire of a percussion concerto by one of the most well established composers ever to approach the medium – Einojuhani Rautavaara. The concerto came to exist as the result of my interest in this composer’s mesmeric and expansive  style, which combines immediately discernible romanticism with an air of adventure and the mysterious. Such works as “Cantus Arcticus” and “Angels and Visitations” were at the forefront of my mind in approaching him about the idea of a symphonic work for percussion and orchestra. I felt that the repertoire could benefit hugely from his  reflective dynamic, and whilst I have enjoyed recent success with the boisterous and the clamorous, it would be interesting to invest in a less obvious and in many ways more experimental collaboration.

The result, to be debuted in London, Rotterdam, Tampere and Baltimore this season in a collection of premieres is a concerto of very great intensity and scope. The opening orchestral tutti, which returns twice more in the work at key moments, has a wonderful Sibelius-like sweep and sets up what remains throughout to be a harmonic language that is rich, exotic and evocative. Working at the piano with the full score at present, I am constantly charmed by the unexpected, the glowing chord substitutions and the tenacious bass notes which so pull at the superficially simple 7th chords perched atop. I’m very excited too by his ambitious use of the percussion; I have spent weeks getting to grips with the closing section of the first movement which requires me to play in constant alteration tubular bells, crotales and marimba, which will result in one of the strongest and most sonorous passages yet to feature in a percussion concerto.

I’m also thrilled to be presenting my own cadenza in this concerto; about two minutes in duration it takes a variety of harmonic and thematic elements from the concerto and develops them as best this percussionist can, having some fun en route and finally some reflection of his own at the end to link the music back to the final minute or so of the piece. (Studying the score also left me with an interesting observation, in that Rautavaara’s harmonies occasionally take on those of Balinese Gamelan music, so my cadenza also reflects that overlap too).

I urge all those in proximity to come along to these concerts and engage in what will be a fascinating re-thinking of the percussion concerto; this is am extremely stirring piece of music and one not to be missed at this, its very first stages of presentation where the excitement will be especially keen.

I look forward to meeting you at London’s Royal Festival Hall as well as any of the other venues in question throughout the course of this season…

Best wishes, Colin.

Last month saw my first visit to South America, a tour which had long excited me as I have always harboured a keen desire to see that part of the world. Colombia, Bogota specifically, was a wonderful place to make that arrival. My work was with The National Symphony Orchstra of Colombia, one of the most exciting ensembles I have ever played with. There was a true sense of occasion to the project I was involved with, which daringly presented Jennifer Higdon’s “Percussion Concerto” to an audience largely unfamiliar with contemporary music. The media really picked up on the event though, and I was kept busy with numerous television and radio interviews, whilst flattered by a whole page in El Pais! Struggling earlier in the season to get 1/3rd attendance for certain classics of the repertoire, we were thrilled to sell the concert out and I was overjoyed with the reception the work received. Further amusement and satisfaction came at the interval when I sold out of the 50 Cds I brought with me to “maybe” sell – Colombia has numerous new Dave Maric fans now!!

After the concert I was invited by one of the bass players to join his band Azultrabuco and have a shot on the timbales!! Now, timbales are truly one of the great percussion instruments, and I have always wanted to play them in a salsa band of any ilk, so to get that chance “Live in Bogota” was one of my life’s most exciting moments. The guys in the band were brilliant at keeping me right and very generous to allow me to be part of their amazing music. So infectious and so brilliant – please preserve me from every hearing the generic dull throb of bland pop music ever again, which seems to be everywhere now, but gorgeously absent in places like Bogota.

The city itself was a spectacular place to visit, with terrific, humble and energetic people, amazing culture, and delicious food and fruit juices at every corner. A career highlight on every level. Thanks to all…

Colin.

Ha-ha. Caught! Red-handed. Recently, whilst showing two splendid friends from the Minnesota Orchstra round London during their European tour, I am asked to clarify my position upon using the phrase “right up in my grill”. With teasing incredulity, they question the authenticity, perhaps one could even say the veracity behind my use of this phrase in their company, indeed in that location. Much merriment ensues. However, upon reflection, I feel compelled to share this learning experience, by publishing the following caveat:

“My fellow Britishers – 20p’s worth of advice for 10…Do not seek to casually absorb the American vernacular. It will come back and bite you on the ass.”

That aside, adventures continue apace, with a searingly and subtle world premiere in Kurt Schwertsik’s new marimba concerto. “Now you hear me, Now you don’t” is the modest title behind this most charming yet capricious of pieces. Gorgeous melodic lines scamper along, whilst the harmonic language rears its pointed, rebellious fangs. A true treat for the ears, ear candy – dare we mention that word…fun!?! And as ever the beloved and beautiful Scottish Ensemble in full flow – one of life’s greatest rewards, and world champion interpreters of Stravinsky’s “Apollo” as well!

Preparation has also begun for Einojuhani Rautavaara’s new concerto, for premiere in the Autumn with the London Philharmonic. Robust and thrilling, this concerto will be a very intense and absorbing work. My continued good wishes and respect to Mr Rautavaara, who, having just turned 80 continues to compose such generous and great music.

But now, gearing up for a long US trip, I travel there with re-newed caution as to what extent I should/can hope to integrate into their spoken-word culture. Yessir, this Limey is mighty proud to be returning to your home soil!

Or something…

Colin.

I’ve always been fascinated by Iceland. The very name, more than many, does appeal to the pictorial imagination. As a young boy I had a giant jigsaw of the map of Europe, each segment an entire country, and I would always put Iceland into position last(with all due reverence I hope), carefully, into its oceanic surroundings.

In reality, the country had me stunned this week; curiously enough, an initial observation recalled my visit to the(also volcanic) Hawaiian  island of Kaua’i. In my more exaggerated moments I even pictured myself, most romantically, as having stumbled into some gloriously powerful Nordic point of re-connection. By the sea once more, among the elements, gripped by some ascending ancestral instinct!! Furthermore, I was surrounded by the most striking looking people I had ever seen, who with breezy confidence often choose to accentuate their already intoxicating features with eyewear of near-radical obscurity. Kindness too, on display, mingled with a real sense of fun and some of the healthiest kind of civic pride I have ever encountered(UK – please oh please take note).

It is, of course, troubling to see a citizenry have recourse to surround its own Parliament building, hammering out a “Rough Music” of protestation with the implied naming and shaming of the politicians within. In this context then, let the country take further inspiration from its own Symphony Orchestra, whose full-throttled strategy to battle the ecconomic crisis includes, next week,  their first ever performance of Messiaen’s “Turangalila-Symphony”.

The highest rewards of my working life come about through the invigoration of cultural exchange. As such, it was very fine to re-connect with Icelandic composer Askell Masson, whom I last saw when I was only just old enough to meet him in the appointed London pub. It was an especial thrill to join forces with Portugese percussion magician Pedro Carniero for the first time too, as we put together Askell’s double concerto “Crossings”. With the orchestra refering to us as “The Twins”, the percussion section had us firmly under thier wing, and being largely Dutch, suitable quantaties of Jenever were seen to in lovely homely surroundings – gezellig. The excitement peaked perfectly for our concert, with the orchestra’s enthusiasm for the music re-inforcing the vitality of the moment.

Certain readers will also be pleased to know that I’ve also had a right good bath this week! Not least of all at the Blue Lagoon; and it really is very blue by the way! As stomach-chruring as this image will be to yet others, do take the time required to picture me wallowing in the white mud and steam, a harmless back-stroke in occasional operation…

“The inevitable night-out”, a fait accompli according to even “Lonely Planet” did also occur, and my thanks to the good people of Hotel 101 who chipped in for a very merry time of it! Their Mojito Royale(a regular Mojito enlivened by a sloosh of champagne!) is indeed a splendid thing. And yes, I did order the Whale meat with Fois-Gras at The Fish Market, and yes, it was excellent!

My thanks and best wishes once again to all for such great times – further visits to your beautiful country are already much craved, and intended…

Best, Colin.

I have just finished  Samuel Johnson’s  “A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland”, a book I read with great gusto. The style is  brilliant! I am not equipped to attempt any kind of elucidation on how it can be that such collected understatement can project such abject eccentricity, but thought at any rate that the following extract would be useful to share…

“The Scots, with a vigilance of jealousy which never goes to sleep, always suspect that an Englishman despises them for their poverty, and that to convince him that they are not less rich than their neighbours, are sure to tell him a price higher than the true. When Lesley, two hundred years ago, related so punctiliously, that a hundred hen eggs, new laid, were sold in the islands for a peny, he supposed that no inference could possibly follow, but that eggs were in great abundance. Posterity has since grown wiser; and having learned, that nominal and real value may differ, they now tell no such stories, lest the foreigner should happen to collect, not that eggs are many, but that pence are few.”

I’m sorry, but that is just a riot!

Apologies also,  to a highly tolerant group of air passengers who recently put up with my transatlantic guffawing, the source of which is now revealed…

Colin.

Well I never. I turn up – unawares, minding my own business – at Eindhoven’s International Music Festival “TROMP” this month and return home with fledgling rockstar credentials!!

To explain; I was to perfrom with NY string quartet Ethel in the world premiere of Steve Martland’s “Starry Night” for marimba and quartet, as part of the openeing concert of the Festival. This infact we did, as prescribed, and with suitable grit and graft too. Less expected was my invitation from Ethel to join them in their ensuing set with rock legend Todd Rundgren on the far from quotidian medium of rock ‘n’ roll drum set! I confessed to not knowing any of the music but chimed alarmed goodwill toward the proposed endevour. We had a cursory run over the “charts” on the morning of the “gig” and then soundchecked with the “man hiimself” just a couple of hours before “doors”.

So, post-Martland we all duly downed our de rigour tequila shots and ran on stage to let it all happen. And what a great experience for little old me!! Fantasitc it was, holding down the beat as best I could with the Ethels grooving away and Todd strumming, singing and screaming. He even encored with the “Lord Chancellor’s Nightmare Song” from Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Iolanthe”. Gulp! And I was highly tickled by his onstage and highly unprintable apraisal of my drum kit skills, such as they were…thanks Todd!

Now; Martland’s “Starry Night”!!! A terrific new work from Steve and one I look forward to playing many many times. It was a fascinating thing to, later in the week, be involved in the finale of the Tromp International String Quartet Competition when I had the chance to play the work with each of the finalist quartets. Steve also commented on how wonderful, interesting and rare it was to have a new work played three times in quick succession, each time by a different ensemble, and in this case with six different nationalities contributing! Many congratulations to the Heath, Callino and Amaryllis Quartets who were such stars and so wonderful for me to perform with. It was also fantastic to spend time with Steve in the country where he studied and has so many great connections(Gerard Bouwhuis a redoubtable example!)…

Until soon,

Colin.

October 2008 saw two pleasingly twinned “firsts” for me, which in combination could construct a new Quadrathalon of sorts. The event in question would consist of playing three different concertos performed in as many days, followed by a thirteen mile run. For those keen to take part, may I wish you the very best in finding the relevant resources to do so. For my part, I wish to continue the intended angle of this post, which is to thank all concerned for the fantastic opportunity I recently had to play three great percussion concertos more or less all at once in St Louis, and to follow it up with my first ever half-marathon upon returning to London.

David Robertson invited me to close out his first season as Music Director of the St Louis Symphony with three performances of James MacMillan’s “Veni, Veni, Emmanuel” in May 2006. A geyser of creative energy, he launched his idea at me over dinner one night of inviting me back to play three different concertos, over the course of a standard set of symphonic concerts. I held sway but I was rather bowled over; this would indeed be a challenge for all concerned and require careful consideration for repertoire and rehearsals. So of course, I accepted on the spot.

The result was the triple-bill “Currie x 3″ at Powell Hall earlier this month. I was delighted at the final choice of repertoire, namely Steve Mackey’s “Time Release”, HK Gruber’s “Rough Music” and Christopher Rouse’s “Der Gerettete Alberich”. Each work requires a very different set-up for me, and extensive re-shuffling of equipment was required as the rehearsals progressed. It was highly interesting for me to engage with this sheer volume of music(the dress rehearsal consisted of running through each piece one after the other) and the whole experience gave me a terrific mental boost.

One of the biggest demands turned out to be the scheduling of Steve’s concerto, which at 10.30am meant a serious challenge to get warmed up in time, and for me, practice at 6.45 that morning on stage. “Time Release” is beautiful and touching music, and it is my job amongst all the beauty to conceal its vast technical demands. I try to keep it as natural and easy as I can, and this was a great performance where I felt free to explore the work’s many charms. I first played the Gruber in 2001, but have since only performed the work on two other occasions, so was delighted to be giving the US Premiere of a very under-performed work. I know the composer well and he is a fabulous creative genius, unstoppable in all his lovable eccentricity. I got a huge buzz from this version and especially reveled in the meltdown and mayhem of the final movement. The Rouse was just a dream; I have played it many times this year and so it was wonderful to have it to look forward to as the finale of the triple. I believe we may have risked roofing at one point, Chris will be especially pleased to know!

The orchestra were simply staggering. Their good humour and zest for the project inspired me immensely. It took considerable bravery to apply such confidence to each concerto as they did, and I got an enormous amount of energy from them. Robertson was conducting each work for the first time, but, as ever, he made it so easy for me to do my bit. In fact, many things worked so well and were such fun, that several smirks had to be suppressed.

I also very much enjoyed the city, and a week of glorious late Summer weather. My father Iain made the trip and we had many a great time on top of the whole musical adventure, including at least one farcical detour. For those of you who know the characters involved, this may not come as an overwhelming surprise…

Back in London, on October the 12th I ran the Royal Parks Half Marathon, on Team UNICEF. It was my first one, and I have already signed up for another(Hastings on December 14th). Using the Albert Hall as its Start/Finish I particularly enjoyed the aspect of running around a central London WITH NO CARS, and was chuffed with my time of 1 hour 40 mins. I had a good portion of 7-minute miles in the middle of the race but found it tricky in the hot weather and felt at one stage that the 11-mile marker would never appear. It was however an enjoyable way to round off a very particular  Quadrathalon, which I may never have the opportunity to repeat. Having said that, just wait until I can tell you what Robertson has me doing with St Louis next year!!

Best wishes, Colin.

This entry goes somewhat behind the scenes of my new season, to divulge some of the (perhaps) more hidden excitements which it contains…Of course, I’m looking forward to several more renditions of Jennifer Higdon’s explosive concerto(Phoenix, Cincinnati, Edmonton, Seoul, Dublin, North Carlolina etc) and various orchestral debuts for me with the MacMillan concerto(notably with the Royal Flanders Philharmonic in Antwerp and the De Doelen Hall in Rotterdam) but this season will also see new works and new collaborators. Of exceptional interest to me is the opportunity to be working with British pianist Nicolas Hodges, with whom I played Stockhausen’s “Kontakte” at this year’s Proms. This Autumn we take on Harrison Birtwistle’s coruscating “Axe Manual”, and with musical audacity put it alongside Joe Duddell’s “Parallel Lines” in a Wigmore Hall recital. Those in or near London, mark down the 24th of October for visceral sounds in graceful surroundings!

My valuable relationship with American conductor David Robertson continues in a thrill-seeking vein this season, with “Currie x 3″ at the St Louis Symphony Orchestra. I look forward very much to taking the stage in three different works in as many days with one of the hottest conductor/orchestra combos of the day(with my father Iain, who is coming on the trip, cheering from the sidelines!)…This will be a challenging event for all the performers concerned and it will be great to be sharing the experience with such a supportive group.

November sees the premiere of Steve Martland’s “Starry Night” for String Quartet and Marimba, which looks like an epic, judging by the recently downloaded pdf of the 57 page score. I first met Steve 13 years ago and it will be excellent to have this new piece to add to my 4tet and percussion repertoire(which took such a boost last season with the Goehr premeire “Since Brass, nor Stone…”)

Also new is Kurt Schwertsik’s Marimba Concerto “Now you hear me, now you don’t” whose title refers to the way the Marimba lines emerge and recede from the String accompaniment. It will be terrific to get a run of seven concerts at the premiere of this work and great to be with my native Scottish Ensemble once again.

Of course, no season is done until Hakan and I get together, and after two really fine concerts last year(San Fransisco and Bruges) in which we really felt that we had finally cracked the programme, I’m in the blocks for more this year with concerts in the UK and Germany, including a muscular premiere from Joe Duddell.

So, I hope that offers a little personal slant on the season ahead and I look forward to reporting more as it progresses. Once again, thanks to all of you who do stop by at the site and for your variously amusing and thoughtful emails which you occasionally send my way…

Best wishes, Colin.

A set of 15 questions has recently been put to various artists (including some friends of mine like Lauma Skride, Dave Maric, Alison Balsom, and The Pavel Haas Quartet) and can be viewed at www.tokafi.com Below is how I responded. The site is quite diverting and it is interesting to see the variety in approach to some of these questions/challenges.
Hi! How are you? Where are you?
Hello! I’m on a train to Cardiff, to start rehearsals for a BBC Proms concert with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. This year has been very busy, but I am in good spirits and looking forward to a family holiday at the end of August.

What’s on your schedule right now?
I have two Proms this season, which is a great thrill. I LOVE playing at the Proms. Two works I have never played before; Messiaen’s “La Transfiguration” and then Stockhausen’s “Kontakte”. I suppose I’m especially excited to be doing the Stockhausen. When I was 12 I photocopied the score and used it as wallpaper in my bedroom, so when I got the music in May, the unusual notation was strangely familiar to me. It has been fascinating to learn this work and I have developed a huge admiration for it. After that, I have my debut with the LA Philharmonic to look forward to, on August the 12th.

Can you still remember the first time you heard a piece of classical music?
Not the very first. But as a live event, I do remember hearing Stravinsky’s “Firebird” very early on with the RSNO. Later, aged 13, hearing “Le Sace du Printemps” would set me on the path I currently enjoy walking down.

What was the deciding moment, which made you want to become an artist?
Artist….well, it was not obvious that I would be a percussion soloist. Despite any level of talent or flair, this career path is generally not open, at least not on any grand scale. So I studied hard to be an orchestral player, and for years combined occasional concertos with a percussion duo and freelance orchestral work. It was a great time, and it could have stayed like that, but things hotted up for me in the past six years or so. I’m very grateful for all the opportunities I do have, and getting presented with exciting concerts to play is still such a thrill for me.

What’s the hardest part about being a musician and what’s the best?
I can struggle somewhat with the highs, then lows after a performance. I get extremely energised by my performing, which is also very physical, so often feel at a loose end after a concert. But the more concerts I give, the easier it is to deal with this. I also get bad jet lag. Sometimes I wake up and have absolutely no idea where I am or what it is I am playing that day. All this is offset by having a creatively and intellectually inspiring skill set which I am effectively sponsered to travel the world to develop! I also relish meeting many great people in this business.

Do you consider it important that more young people care for classical music? If so, how, do you think, could this be achieved?
This is a very large topic. I do wish that contemporary music could have a bigger audience, in the way that other art forms seem to find so much easier to attract. I think some damage has been done in this area which we are still not only suffering for but also continuing to perpetrate. Elitism should only be used in the selection of music, and not in its presentation. I try to do my bit by being open to meeting audience members and giving post and pre concert talks. I also am careful about what I play and who I approach for new pieces.

How would you rate the importance of the internet and new media for classical music?
I’m not sure I fully understand the full implications here. However, music is essentially a live event, so if new media and the internet can be used to attract bigger crowds, then great.

With so many different recordings of a particular piece available – how do you keep yours fresh and different?
This probably doesn’t apply to me! One thing that I do enjoy so much about what I do is that in creating many new pieces, I get to give the first impression. Some of the concertos I have premiered have been taken up by others, which is always fascinating.

What constitutes a good live performance in your opinion? What’s your approach to performing on stage?
A good performance must be “real”. No falsities or flashiness will attract me. Clarity, balance, a fine sound and some kind of strength (of confidence) will all be important. I always try to play my very best, but because of the huge technical demands and the annoying logistical booby-traps involved in playing solo percussion, I have had to learn to accept that things don’t always go according to plan. However, I do require that when I go on stage I at least have the potential to play everything “perfectly”.

What does the word “interpretation” mean to you?
I’m with Stravinsky on this one! I dislike the notion. But confess that it is inevitable that no two performers will have an identical slant. What really matters is being able to justify every single musical choice you do make.

How do you balance the need to to put your personal emotions into the music you play and the intentions of the composer?
If anything, it is my job to put the emotions of the composer into the performance and not the other way around somehow. Were one to give a particularly intense version of some piece or other, a composer could maybe comment “Wow, I didn’t know I had that in me!”. That would be a very great compliment.

What’s your view on the relationship between musical education and classical music?
Again, shark infested waters here, but I am all for a gigantic increase and re-focusing of a broad musical education in our schools. I fail to see even remote disadvantage in immersing our youngsters in the greatest artistic legacy in the history of human thought.

You are given the position of artistic director of a concert hall. What would be on your program for this season?
I am interested in presenting early music alongside modern magic. So, this could lead to some odd parings, maybe Gesueldo and Andriessen let’s say, but I think it could work. And – I must declare an interest here – I would definitely include Simon Holt’s new percussion concerto “a table of noises”!

How would you describe the relationship with your instrument?
This question has raised a smile at least from me, so it can’t be that bad…! Frustrations in the practice room can usually be vented in front of several thousand people over the course of any normal week, so I do my therapy sessions in public you might say. I find the marimba and other tuned instruments exasperating at times, as you are at the mercy of haphazard chance quite often as there is no sense of touch on the instrument. But I adore performing and am an incurable percussionist. I love the diversity of the art form, in sound and style. There is nothing to compare to it!

Have you ever tried playing a different instrument? If yes, how good were you at it?
I had a wonderful piano teacher aged 13-17, who helped me enormously. I found the instrument itself quite difficult, but I loved the sound. We had a gorgeous Steinway at home which my Grandfather bought for us, and I enjoyed my practice. At my “peak” I could play through Debussy’s “Estampes”, but dread to think what would happen if I tried to play that music now! I’ve always liked the French Horn and the Bass Guitar too.

May 2008 saw my debut with the excellent Malaysian Philharmonic under the baton of my good friend Paul Mann. It was a beautiful opportunity to play a concerto that remains very close to my heart, Joe Duddell’s “Ruby”(premiered in 2003). Only the third(and fourth!) time I’ve played the work, I was struck once again by the unusual subtlety the work contains and I was very inspired by both comments from fellow musicians and the strong audience reaction.

The work traces a three movement form, with the first movement providing a variety of music, alternating between “Flowing”, “Dancing” and then finally “Mechanical” sections. The work’s heart is definitely the central slow movement which builds to a huge and intense climax before floating agilely away. The third movement is more vivacious, and via some real fireworks it proceeds to superimpose many of the themes from the earlier movements in a robust, then quietly accepting conclusion. Another element that I enjoy and  think is extremely effective for the music is that I play the entire concerto from memory, which is not always possible.

I’m really proud of this concerto. I think it is unusual, and perhaps rather oddly under-stated, yet it is unpretentious and serenely honest somehow. Its beauty lies under the surface. I haven’t had the pleasure of playing it quite as often as I would like, so having recently re-visited it I wanted to post this note and promote its virtues as I hear them.

And for anyone willing to book me to perform it, I will be happy to explain the title…!

Best, Colin.