Nicole Forsyth, violist from Ironwood, was the pre-concert speaker for the last Musica Viva Young Professionals event.

She shared some great insights into chamber music and gave me permission to share some of them here. Her talk was longer than the snip-its below, but these were some that I found interesting.

Chamber music seems like a rarefied art form – but it’s actually not.

Anyone, playing any instrument, in their bedroom, in their lounge, with one or two other people – that’s chamber music – perhaps with the exception of air guitar – or air bassoon (look it up on YouTube!).

Things like string quartets and piano trios generally start out as fun groups – music students getting together to read their way through the old favourites – Mozart and Beethoven Quartets, Arensky and Rachmaninov Trios, Brahms Sextets, Mendelssohn Octet, Schubert ‘Trout’ Quintet.

Lots of summer music camps and festivals feature afternoons and late evenings of free time – put classical musicians together in one place with a library of music and some free time, and chamber music reading will ensue, usually in combination with good wine and food. Unsurprising that some of the best chamber festivals in the world are held at wineries! (such as the Huntington Estate Music Festival)

Development of chamber music

The piano trio and the string quartet are two of the fairly standard combinations of chamber music, which developed during the mid 18^th century. Chamber music, was initially designed to be played in a chamber (drawing or music room) rather than today’s modern concert hall. In the early to mid 19^th century chamber music moved from private concert room into the public space of the larger concert hall.

Early chamber music in Sydney

For a private chamber music space in early Sydney, think the front drawing rooms of Vaucluse or Elizabeth Bay Houses, and for a mid 19th century public chamber music space, think what is now the fabulous Belgian Beer Café down on Harrington St or the Art House Hotel on Pitt St. One of Sydney’s earliest public concert spaces was in fact a pub – Barnett Levey’s Theatre Royal was attached to his pub on George St. The first public concerts in the 1820’s, with tickets sold to all comers – who fought, drank, cat called and were generally more unruly than you’ll ever hear in a modern concert hall – were held in the Tap Room of Barnett’s pub. Think of a chamber music concert with the audience as wildly enthusiastic as you might see for the headline final act of the Big Day Out, and you begin to see the importance and relevance of new, unheard and incredibly exciting new compositions to a 19th century audience.

Mendelssohn bewailed the fact that Viennese audiences of his lifetime were unfamiliar with Mozart and Beethoven, such was the aesthetic for new work during this period. Western art music only gained its museum piece reputation during the 20th century. Perhaps we’ll be seeing the end of this particular aesthetic as well, as concerts in the 21st centurybecome an exciting ‘cabinet of curiosities’ once more – new work and old mixed together, informing each other, and making new connections across time.

Interested in learning more about chamber music?

Musica Viva have selected 3 concerts from their 2011 season to be included in the Young Professional program. This program is for professionals new to chamber music wanting a friendly introduction. The night starts with a talk and drink at 6pm, followed by the concert starting at 7pm. If you’re going, then introduce yourself to me!

I’ll continue to post segments from the pre-concert talk here so you can still feel a part of it.

While I was at the Huntington Estate Music Festival there was (obviously) much discussion about the music and performers (as well as the wine and other random topics).

I took my own notes that formed a personal list of ‘awards’ from the festival:

• Perkiness – Genevieve Lacey (recorder)
• Emotional – Stefan Heinemeyer (cello)
• Expressive face – Lars Ulrik Mortensen (harpsichord)
• Would love to hear again – Ray Chen and Dene Olding playing Eugene Ysaye’s Sonata for Two Violins in A minor.
• Was great to hear – Ross Edwards‘ String Quartet no 2, ‘Shekina Fantasy’ played beautifully by the Goldner String Quartet. Commissioned by grandpa, Ken Tribe, and played by his favourite string quartet.

That said, there wasn’t a performance that I didn’t enjoy hearing. Carl Vine‘s music direction sent us all on a journey over the 5 days. The performances were connected with ‘In Conversation’ sessions before the evening concerts on Thursday, Friday and Saturday [pictured]. It was great to hear the musicians talk about their lives.

While some of the concerts were broadcast live, some will also be aired on ABC Classic in March 2011.

The wonderful John & Irene Garran

The Huntington Estate Music Festival has been going for over 20 years in Mudgee. For much of the last decade it has been a collaboration with Musica Viva. It was my fourth Huntington Festival, but my first without my grandpa, Ken Tribe.

Grandpa died in July 2010, at the age of 96. Like many, I lost a mentor and mate.

After the first Huntington Festival I attended, I wrote about my grandpa being a mentor. I was prompted to write it after having several people say that he was their mentor. I got grandchild jealousy. He was my grandpa and therefore my mentor first. However, I then discovered that he’d been a mentor to many of these people for longer than I’d been alive. I felt a need at the time to put in writing some of the business lessons I’d learnt from him, so I had a record of it, more than anything else.

After the second Huntington I attended, I wrote about the feedback cycle that they have in place, because it was great to see a business having an obvious feedback cycle (download as part of our set of articles on the feedback cycle). Regardless of whether they did it the same way this year, or whether I thought the survey they’ve used in the past could be improved, what I still saw is them actively seeking feedback, formally or informally; making improvements and adjustments by putting the ideas in place; then communicating the changes made back to the audience. A full feedback cycle. The audience appreciated it.

There was a public celebration of grandpa’s life at Angel Place – where some of his favourite musicians played some of his favourite pieces, and some of his favourite people spoke about him with the Deaf Society signing (another of his passions). Several concerts have been dedicated to him and segments have been on radio. But… it was at Huntington that I emotionally said good bye to him. He opened my mind to the beauty of a festival of chamber music amongst a small group of people that shared the same passion. When I first went, I didn’t think I would enjoy 5 days of chamber music. After it, I decided that I enjoy festivals more than individual concerts.

At times it was surreal not having him sitting next to me with his wise commentary of the music and the range of people that he’d talk to chatting to us in the breaks. I met great people without him there. Huntington is wonderful like that. Two of those people were John Garran (@JohnOfOz) and his wife Irene [pictured]. John wrote a wonderful blog post about grandpa in July and it was great to meet him in person. I created my own new memories.

In the last 15 years, I spoke to grandpa about almost every concert I attended, whether he was there or not. If he wasn’t there I’d ring afterwards and talk about the concert. What I liked, and didn’t. He’d talk about when he’d heard those pieces of music being played, or surprise if he hadn’t heard them (this was quite a rare occasion).  For the last four months I’ve still had those conversations in my head while listening to live performances. At first I’d think about what I’d tell him when I call after the concert, and then realise that I can’t have that conversation any more. That is when the tears would start. This included hearing the New York Phil play at the Lincoln Centre and Atos Trio play at Angel Place in Sydney.

This Huntington gave me the opportunity to convert those mental conversations to monologues and random ‘wish you were here’ thoughts. I still miss him. I still hear his voice pop into my head. I’ll never forget the impact he has had on my life. More than anything, I hope he can still live through me by the profound impact that he’s had on how I live, the ethics I operate by, the approach I have to business and way I think. I know that others feel the same way.

One of my favourite conversations with him was when I shared a story and then said I haven’t told anyone that. He said, isn’t it funny how you tell a grandparent something you haven’t told your parents. I replied: and grandparent tells his grandchild something that he hasn’t told his children. He replied: touché.

I was so blessed to be able to share so much with him. I saw his faults, but I don’t have a bad memory about him. Almost every interaction had a piece of ‘gold’, that now almost feels tangible – I can hold them and carry them forward.