This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2013/feb/28/michael-tippett-david-robertson

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
If Michael Tippett were alive, he would still be challenging us today If Michael Tippett were alive, he would still be challenging us today
(7 months later)
Before my arrival in the UK in 1976 to study at the Royal Academy of Music – at the tender age of 18 – my knowledge of Michael Tippett's music was slim. Growing up in sunny Los Angeles had not prepared me for the wealth of British music that suddenly engulfed me like a huge sea surge. At that time, Tippett was just one new name among many. I played some of his pieces in the orchestra, heard many others in concerts and on Radio 3, and was intrigued by the sounds I heard: those incredible, angular, kinetic rhythms, which seemed nearly to drown any sense of pulse, the almost mircroscopic lyricism in those rapidly scurrying figures, and above all, the incredible clear-eyed emotion, a total avoidance of sentimentality. My first year in London was just coming to a close when Tippett's opera The Ice Break had its premiere at Covent Garden. I heard many opinions voiced about the man and his works: what subjects he felt were acceptable, his aesthetic ideas, stylistic choices and overall standing. It was clear that his output rarely left one indifferent.Before my arrival in the UK in 1976 to study at the Royal Academy of Music – at the tender age of 18 – my knowledge of Michael Tippett's music was slim. Growing up in sunny Los Angeles had not prepared me for the wealth of British music that suddenly engulfed me like a huge sea surge. At that time, Tippett was just one new name among many. I played some of his pieces in the orchestra, heard many others in concerts and on Radio 3, and was intrigued by the sounds I heard: those incredible, angular, kinetic rhythms, which seemed nearly to drown any sense of pulse, the almost mircroscopic lyricism in those rapidly scurrying figures, and above all, the incredible clear-eyed emotion, a total avoidance of sentimentality. My first year in London was just coming to a close when Tippett's opera The Ice Break had its premiere at Covent Garden. I heard many opinions voiced about the man and his works: what subjects he felt were acceptable, his aesthetic ideas, stylistic choices and overall standing. It was clear that his output rarely left one indifferent.
It is nearly 30 years ago since I first met Tippett in Israel, where I was conducting his Third Symphony with the Jerusalem Symphony Orchestra. It was an experience that changed my understanding of his music. We spent a little over a week together. Tippett was fascinated by people and places, when we toured around he was constantly asking questions. His macular dystrophy caused him to look at things very intently and, although he had difficulty focusing on the small print of a musical score, his descriptions of landscape made it seem as though he was constantly looking at a painting by Turner. He could be very funny, and it was wonderful to see how gracious he was if he made a mistake in rehearsal. Near the end of the symphony is a gnarled bass line in which each bar is a different length. Tippett couldn't seem to get it right and so the players all started counting in a low chorus. His music suddenly sounded like Pink Floyd, and the whole orchestra – including Tippett – burst out laughing.It is nearly 30 years ago since I first met Tippett in Israel, where I was conducting his Third Symphony with the Jerusalem Symphony Orchestra. It was an experience that changed my understanding of his music. We spent a little over a week together. Tippett was fascinated by people and places, when we toured around he was constantly asking questions. His macular dystrophy caused him to look at things very intently and, although he had difficulty focusing on the small print of a musical score, his descriptions of landscape made it seem as though he was constantly looking at a painting by Turner. He could be very funny, and it was wonderful to see how gracious he was if he made a mistake in rehearsal. Near the end of the symphony is a gnarled bass line in which each bar is a different length. Tippett couldn't seem to get it right and so the players all started counting in a low chorus. His music suddenly sounded like Pink Floyd, and the whole orchestra – including Tippett – burst out laughing.
He had brought a number of his scores with him which he generously gave to me. I would go back to my hotel room and pore over them, then pepper him with questions about a different one each day. It was amazing how much music he knew, not only from the classical canon but from popular music as well. The only genre he seemed incapable of enjoying was the music of Native Americans (for which he politely apologised to me as a Yankee).He had brought a number of his scores with him which he generously gave to me. I would go back to my hotel room and pore over them, then pepper him with questions about a different one each day. It was amazing how much music he knew, not only from the classical canon but from popular music as well. The only genre he seemed incapable of enjoying was the music of Native Americans (for which he politely apologised to me as a Yankee).
I attended a number of talks he gave on his music. I knew that he was a pacifist, but the impression left by his standing to practically shout his answer to a taunt, disguised as a question, remains key. He was asked how his pacifism could have helped the Jews who were being murdered by Hitler. He stood up, shaking: "I would have taken them all in!" he roared. "I was ashamed by my country and that we were simply watching while these people had nowhere to go!" I knew this kind of passion from the music, but this was the first time I ever saw this same fervour in defence of humanist principles by a "classical" composer.I attended a number of talks he gave on his music. I knew that he was a pacifist, but the impression left by his standing to practically shout his answer to a taunt, disguised as a question, remains key. He was asked how his pacifism could have helped the Jews who were being murdered by Hitler. He stood up, shaking: "I would have taken them all in!" he roared. "I was ashamed by my country and that we were simply watching while these people had nowhere to go!" I knew this kind of passion from the music, but this was the first time I ever saw this same fervour in defence of humanist principles by a "classical" composer.
What struck me was Tippett's firmness of resolve to speak of problems confronting us, but not to blame. He fundamentally understood the crooked timbre of humanity. He knew that music might be powerless to change politics, but that it could effect seismic shifts in people. He struggled personally with the questions surrounding society and the value of art. The wonder of it was that he wrote music that was asking for the kind of patient, careful listening associated with classical music while addressing subjects that could easily be dismissed as not being appropriate for such a musical discourse. It is a major strength of the Third Symphony that it poses the question: "Yes, Beethoven is indeed beautiful, but can we listen to the Ode to Joy and not be aware after the 20th century's bloodletting, and the 21st century's new ability to terrorise, that the only Brotherhood of Man we will have is the one we ourselves are responsible for?" The message of A Child of Our Time has a relevance just as searing today when we look at what is happening around the world as when the work was begun on 3 September 1939 – the day Britain declared war on Germany. If he were alive now he would be writing new works that would continue to challenge us well beyond the concert hall.What struck me was Tippett's firmness of resolve to speak of problems confronting us, but not to blame. He fundamentally understood the crooked timbre of humanity. He knew that music might be powerless to change politics, but that it could effect seismic shifts in people. He struggled personally with the questions surrounding society and the value of art. The wonder of it was that he wrote music that was asking for the kind of patient, careful listening associated with classical music while addressing subjects that could easily be dismissed as not being appropriate for such a musical discourse. It is a major strength of the Third Symphony that it poses the question: "Yes, Beethoven is indeed beautiful, but can we listen to the Ode to Joy and not be aware after the 20th century's bloodletting, and the 21st century's new ability to terrorise, that the only Brotherhood of Man we will have is the one we ourselves are responsible for?" The message of A Child of Our Time has a relevance just as searing today when we look at what is happening around the world as when the work was begun on 3 September 1939 – the day Britain declared war on Germany. If he were alive now he would be writing new works that would continue to challenge us well beyond the concert hall.
I miss Sir Michael and wish he were here today. He would love finding out about El Sistema, about the grassroots, about the Congolese all-amateur symphony orchestra in Kinshasa. He would be delighted to hear about the community in Paraguay making classical instruments out of the trash lining their streets.I miss Sir Michael and wish he were here today. He would love finding out about El Sistema, about the grassroots, about the Congolese all-amateur symphony orchestra in Kinshasa. He would be delighted to hear about the community in Paraguay making classical instruments out of the trash lining their streets.
Tippett understood the power of music with a vision that was as inspiring as it was boundless. He would still be fascinated and asking questions.Tippett understood the power of music with a vision that was as inspiring as it was boundless. He would still be fascinated and asking questions.
David Robertson conducts the BBC Symphony Orchestra in Tippett's Symphony No 3 at the Barbican on Friday 1 March. This performance opens the BBCSO's complete Tippett symphony cycle at the Barbican.David Robertson conducts the BBC Symphony Orchestra in Tippett's Symphony No 3 at the Barbican on Friday 1 March. This performance opens the BBCSO's complete Tippett symphony cycle at the Barbican.
Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning.