Future Perfect

I'm planning what to do with this website next. As you can see, there is a variety of material here now, some of it old and in need of work, all of it in need of unification and a good trim.

Everything is going according to plan; I have had a lot to work on but it is succeeding. I haven't mentioned anything about it before, because who wants to know about what might happen? Few people would be interested and even fewer would believe it. It seemed to me to be better just to get on with it and tell you later. This may explain a certain lack of information that the more discerning of you may have noticed around the place.

Today I went out for my walk but was tricked by the sun which now disappears much earlier than formerly (and only very recently), so it was a lot darker a lot sooner! I didn't get lost but I certainly had to walk further than I was expecting...

So the sun is getting further away...some may doubt that it shall return, most accept it as obvious. What would our ancestors have thought? And our descendants?

Anyway, the point about this time of year is that the light does appear to disappear, and during that time there is no particular guarantee that it will be back. It gets cold and dark and all the goodness of the earth hides itself away in dark places. But if everything goes according to plan, guided by the Cosmic Gardeners' responsible hands, the light will soon return and shine on new things peeping out of the earth.

It's the same with many things in life. My work is just one case of that.

Everything is always beginning and being made again, but from time to time we can step back and notice that - something really did happen! The year turns interminably but at each resting point we have the chance to take stock of what we have achieved - what harvest we have brought in. If you don't like the harvest, it's time to plan for the next one. What will you change?

We can't escape change, but one thing we can do is direct it. And that is exactly what I am attempting to do. I hope you will be interested to see the results!

Love from Philip

The Magic of Words

Words have a magic all of their own.

They can tell the truth. But you must test for yourself if it is true, because words can also twist your mind to embrace a lie.

Without words, many things would be different. Would a rose smell as sweet if it had no name? Or even sweeter perhaps?

Today I want to mention the magic of the written word. That is something important to take notice of.

There is one particular thing that written words can do that we sometimes find difficult.

Written words can remember things.

When you write a to-do list, or your list of goals, you are using the magical power of written words to change your reality.

Because the words are helping you remember and helping you direct your energies in a certain way.

They're not just words.

To-Do Lists and Goals Lists are important for this reason.

When you need to remember a goal that you want to achieve ten years from now...you can check the list every day and it will remind you even though you could forget without help. The world gets very busy and things try to deflect you from your preferred course. This is when your list could help.

If you need to remember who you were ten years ago, you can look in your diary. People change - sometimes deliberately - and if you have made any improvement, it is often difficult to see that. So it's good to have something to compare it to, a bit like the height marks on the frame of your kitchen door. When you were six, you were this tall. Now look how much you have grown!

But if you are planning to grow a certain number of inches, or the spiritual equivalent, then you need a similar kind of aid to plan your course. Memory is, of course, the thing that will do this for you. But when you are beginning, as I said, it is sometimes rather hard to remember in the face of a lot of confusion. So that's when making lists comes in useful.

Things you need to do. Things you want to do. Things you have to do. Things you wish you could do? Things you need to learn how to do. Things you have never done. Places to go, people to see, things to do. Things to say. Things to sing. Music to play. Games to play. Games to win. Battles to fight. Enemies to befriend. Friends to take care of. Flowers to grow. Children to meet. Your success is here. Plan it now, by saying one thing: I will do a little more each day, and I will do it a little better each day.

You can make a list if you want!

"Modern Music"

Yesterday I attended a lecture-recital on the piano music of Haydn given by Andras Schiff at the Wigmore Hall. He played quite a lot of the music (an early Capriccio in C major, F minor Fantasie, the last Sonata (E flat major)) and talked us through the harmonic movement, pointing out what harmonies were a surprise and in what way. It was very gentle and quite amusing for a typical Wigmore audience which is of course very music-loving and intelligent as well as, it has to be admitted, rather conservative.

I was disappointed by one of his comments, which was directed against "modern music". He was expounding the virtues of the wonderful way Haydn returns to the home key after all his excursions and surprise moves in the wrong direction, and said that's the thing that bothers him about contemporary music - that it never arrives home after it has begun. It wasn't a terrible comment, but I wasn't too impressed by it, and certainly not by the way he knew he could say that to this audience and be sure they would go along with him, and even find it amusing.

Do you think one day we will be able to have music in concert halls?

Yes, just music - sounds that mean things. Not "our music not yours" or "of course this music is some of the greatest ever composed (because it has existed for hundreds of years and hasn't hurt anybody since then)".

It's an interesting point that the very conservative repertoire often is some of the greatest music ever composed (it seems to me) but there are certainly plenty of gaps where other great music has been omitted, and where living composers do not have any comfortable place. Or at least the ones with the comfortable place are just lying around in comfort, not writing anything of any note.

England is unusual because it has a very conservative part which, while it inhibits change, succeeds in preserving (conserving) some things that, if we didn't have them, we would be much the poorer for that. So even though I don't like these remarks about "Listen to all the wrong notes! How silly it sounds" and so on, I don't actually mind too much. But one day they will appreciate that you can see in all directions out of the windows of your house, not only the directions you already know about.

There is great music now, and has been since the last officially great music was written (when was that, 1910 or 20? And even a lot of that is sometimes considered a bit modern, such as Ravel). I don't mind at all that we are taking it slow with the new repertoire choices. We could have a fast-moving all-changing society and it might not be long before we lose the good parts.

Yes, at the Wigmore hall you, like Volvic mineral water, must be filtered through volcanic sand for 15 years until you reach the required level of purity. Except it's more than 15 years.

But if we can stand the test of time, then we can wait a few years for the music-lovers.

Don't be scared, audience! It's just that we have some more things you can love.

Today at the ROH

This morning, thanks to a friend of Gabriel, I attended the final dress rehearsal of Verdi's Il trovatore ("The Troubadour") at the Royal Opera House. It was first performed there on 10 May 1855, eight days after its world première in New York - that's 154 years ago! It's still going strong.

Conducted by Carlo Rizzi, directed by Elijah Moshinsky, the cast included Roberto Alagna! (Manrico) and Dmitri Hvorostovsky! (Count di Luna) as well as excellent performances from people I did not know previously, particularly Sondra Radvanovsky as Leonora with some super pianissimo high notes and Małgorzata Walewska's well-characterised Azucena, who eerily and ambiguously inhabited the vocal range between female and male.

I had photographers in front of me but other than that it was the strongest cast I have seen in an opera, and my seat was in the sixth row!

I was lucky to see it.

Verdi is extremely good at his job. (He still is).

Just as the lighting designer (Mike Gunning) illuminates certain important areas, Verdi points out certain areas of the voices, supporting them and reinforcing their lines as if the orchestra is the canvas supporting the colour. The orchestra is always contributing to the feeling, but it's in such a subtle way because often the propelling phrases are so archetypically musical that you don't notice they are there. Not like a melody that you will remember and sing yourself, but like little cells of notes that are almost pre-musical.

Verdi supports the voices in this way, but most of all he supports the drama.

That is his achievement.

(And some good ensemble pieces with three or four things being sung at the same time!)

Thank you Mr. Verdi.

Thank you all!

The Hobbit (Film)...?

I was just thinking about what I thought was Peter Jackson's upcoming film adaptation of Tolkien's story "The Hobbit". I was going to begin: "So they're making a film of The Hobbit". But they aren't! They are nearly making a film of The Hobbit. The original plan was to make it then go on to film the three episodes of The Lord of the Rings all at the same time. But that was a long time ago. It seems there are problems about a number of things, particularly who owns the production rights, who owns the distribution rights (not the same people, I think, unfortunately), and a law suit which has apparently offended New Line Cinema and made them vow never to use Peter Jackson for anything ever again...so I hear, at least. I don't know what is true, but it seems there is some trouble with this project getting off the ground.

So is it still worth writing my thoughts about the music for this film? Of course! Let's go!

Now, The Hobbit is a good story. It's a very good read. I always feel with Tolkien that it is somehow offensive to "right-thinking literary people" because it is a little bit naïve and doesn't subject its literary form to any radical exploration or expansion. Yes, it's not Finnegans Wake. Well those imagined opinions undoubtedly have some truth to them, but you could also say that since Tolkien goes back to the sources he knew so well - the Sagas, Eddas, poems and prose of Northern Europe which are our surviving mythological and legendary heritage - and since he tries to make a real story like stories used to be told, maybe that is a radical thing to do, in a way. But it's true that it's not avant-garde. It's rather conservative in that it wants some things to remain a certain way. Certainly in The Lord of the Rings the peaceful way of life of the Hobbits living in the Shire is threatened by the "development" and "progress" that comes out of the land of Mordor. It may mean several things but one is certainly that rural life is threatened with extinction by the Industrial Revolution. Plus there is world war, too - I'm sure people have looked into all this in plenty of detail.

So anyway, it's not a great work of modernist fiction, but I will include it as an important work of modern fiction because whatever is good or bad about the writing, the idea and its world have found many ears eager to hear more. It's a good story, like The Three Musketeers or a James Bond novel. I mean it's a GOOD story - I'm praising it, not belittling it!

All of which is not to complain about the book, but to examine why I feel I should be slightly embarrassed to be discussing it in public. Well, I'm not. It's a proper story, so there. Ha!

The Hobbit is fun because you can read it in a day (if you have all day). There are plenty of excitements, some spooky bits, some magic and comedy too. And plenty of escapism if you enjoy reading about home comforts. The Hobbit, it seems, is a homely creature who enjoys his bit of supper. Often more than once!

I was thinking about the music for this projected film. I imagined it would be in the mode of The Lord of the Rings, which I feel is an extremely strong score (from Howard Shore). Its use of Leitmotiv (a theme for each character or thing, so you can see how they are interacting in the story, associated most with Wagner - very appropriate for a legendary story about a ring) provides a great way to unify all three films, almost as good a unifying factor as Peter Jackson's brain, which must be enormous to have made all three films at the same time!

On the other hand, once you have your motifs worked out, not much has to change. Because Wagner operas are mythological, they are supposed to be beyond the scope and compass of mortal time, so time gets stretched out. There is climax, or course (see Isoldens Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde) but time is a bit flattened out. So maybe leit-motifs prevent a more natural flow of musical events? Maybe, maybe not. Anyway they definitely made the right choice for those three films.

But the embarrassing moments for me are: the "Happy Shire" music, intended to be antic and comically endearing, but rather annoying for me, and the songs.

A big song in a film (or "movie", as they are called) is normally a signal for you to go out and buy the record (or "CD" as they are called). Yes, it is a marketing opportunity, almost a moment of "branded content" - entertainment that is actually selling you something. But if the song has a dramatic purpose, that's different. If not...why is it in a film? Do they stop the story to say "buy Simpson's Shock-Absorbers"? Yes they do. It's called product placement. However, that doesn't happen all the time.

But it's the little songs I'm worrying about here. Why do they go wrong? In fact, musical examples of "real music" in films go rather badly - look at Mr. Holland's Opus! The Piano! Dear me. Supposedly examples of great music and would be fine on the soundtrack but not when you take the same level of musical discourse but expose it on a completely different level.

I'm talking about songs because there are quite a lot in The Hobbit.

Far over the misty mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere the break of day,
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

has potential (could still be ruined though) but

Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates -
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!
...So, carefully! Carefully with the plates!

could go badly wrong. You see, musical music (as used in an opera by someone who is intending the music to carry important meaning) has a great emotional and expressive range which includes comedy as well as more serious thoughts. But "background music" (which film music is not when it is one of the characters in the story but which it easily can be) doesn't have much range. It can illustrate or echo what is happening on-screen, but it needs more wide possibilities of expression, obviously, to express more things. Bad examples go like "Aha there is something nasty happening me better make loud noise bang bang!", but in a good example you hear an added level of story. Maybe it would be more dramatic with quiet music. Or no music. And so on.

So the score needs to be thoughtful, but it should think on a different level when the music gets exposed and we are asked to listen to it as "real music" in the story.

You have to think carefully, though, because a film score mostly can't have quite the same depth as music on its own in a concert, because film + music is the totality of the offering, each playing its part which should add up to 100%. But that's about good partnerships. When person X is doing something important, person Y should try to help...perhaps even by doing nothing.

Style is difficult for songs in a film because one assumes the audience has a very limited imagination of what songs should sound like. Songs are...well, anything from pop music, or "a folk song". What is a folk song? Why it's Irish of course!

Yes why does it always have to be Irish? Come on, you've got more choices than that! Or could it perhaps be because most films are aimed at the USA? Where there are a lot of people who think of Ireland as "home"? Or the home before this home? Could be.

Yes there are perhaps limited references to work with when you want to engage with the audience, but I still think you should give it a try. People are more intelligent than you might think. Still, they have to sell the picture. I understand.

If The Hobbit has embarrassing aspects, then they may extend to the film version too...and that may include the songs. Let's wait and see.

But Tolkien wasn't embarrassed, and neither are the fans of the stories. You have to get into the world to learn how to show people what it looks like. Being intelligent about it doesn't mean it has to sound "clever". It just will take people there, that's all.

I'm sure it will TURN OUT FINE!

The Language of Music

It's hard to explain impossible things to you.

But the reason one person writes to another is that there is something he needs to tell that person, something which he thinks the other person doesn't know. The only problem is that when a fact is an unknown fact, it is hard to understand. In fact it may be impossible to understand - it will take a lot of problems and hard work to finally see what it was. Sometimes, indeed, you can't just tell someone the answer they need, because they won't understand without actually discovering the answer for themselves. That's why we have symbols like mazes and spirals. Labyrinths were popular in ancient art. Popularity comes when something resonates with many people, no matter what the intention behind it. In this case, the Labyrinth is a journey you must follow until it is solved - there is not normally a short way through.

The Labyrinth is a part of the ear, too.

When we hear music we can identify patterns. Without them, it would probably be noise. But as long as we can fit the sound to a pattern we feel there is some sense behind it. We keep creating possible patterns to fit to the stimulus, trying to find a match for one or more templates that we have stored, or creating a new one based on the incoming material. So although I said we try to find a fit, really we are creating the pattern that we hear. The sound is what it is, but the pattern is our own. Listen to noise and see how soon you start to hear words. They may not be there as such, but we are looking (listening) for them.

So we may find there is sense at the first hearing of a piece of music. That depends on what experience we have. Whatever the case, we will try and we will find something. But you might end up saying, no, I just couldn't make anything of it. Like the ladies in the Wigmore Hall who laughed at the 'wrong notes' in a Webern piece - which was written in 1899! I was there, you can believe me.

There are "dissonant" cases where the music is too different from the listener's internal templates and antagonism results. Of course, the dissonance is not necessarily a question of some dissonance in the music's harmonic idiom - I was referring to the dissonance between what they are hearing and what they might expect to make sense, or what they have heard before and got used to. But on the whole the music one hears is mostly more or less familiar - you tend to recognise it as music, and more particularly as "our music". Statistically we are more likely to hear music we already recognise, of course - because statistically we will stay in more or less the same place.

Recognition comes then, somewhat or a lot. You can tell there is a loud bit coming up because it starts getting louder. It started quiet so you know it will be quiet for a bit. Or after learning a bit more, you know that if it is quiet, it might stay quiet or might SUDDENLY get loud. You start to learn what the options might be. And if you know a bit about music you might here where the harmony is going. You might recognise the sort of "subject" the composer is thinking of. Of course there is not a subject, it is music not words, but there are associations and special patterns we notice. It might be something clear like the sound of a bird (the cuckoo in Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony) or something ambiguous like the sound of water or wind in a Schubert song. It might be a topic like "military" (Chopin Polonaise) or "exotic" (Debussy Pagodas) or "academic" (Handelian fugue in Mozart or Beethoven). Whatever it is, you learn, and then finally you understand. It can take repeated hearings to get there though - although most do not try after the first attempt. And sometimes there is no attempt! (What are the chances of success there I wonder?)

All of these insights come with practise and understanding. Some come with learning and knowledge.

They say that a child's mind is a clear mind. They say a child will see the obvious when everyone else convinces themselves otherwise or trips themselves up in tangles of thought and blind guesses. That's why there is the famous story of The Emperor's New Clothes. Maybe it's funny, I don't know. I'm sure no-one believes it could ever really happen. But that's the shock you get when you realise it's happening all the time. Look at what people are doing around you now. A little or a lot, helping or un-helping, but they are certainly taking a lot of different approaches to the maze of their life. Certainly the mazes are different, but can all the people be right? The child says: I thought you had to get to the centre. (Does that mean it is easier than it seemed?)

Yes, you try to hear some sense in the sound coming in. But we are in luck, because the person who created it all - the composer - put sense in at the beginning. So we are in with a fighting chance!

I am convinced that we can understand music purely by paying attention to what the composer has put in it. That's the approach I took when I wrote about Evryali, and it's how I try to understand music on a daily basis. The significance of this is that it doesn't matter how much you know before you get started. Knowledge came down to us because other people noticed things; that means we can notice them too. But it will take a long time if we try to understand the knowledge AS WELL as the music. That's two jobs, you see. Fortunately I have tried to understand the music, afflicted with only a slight knowledge of the technical processes involved. (That's not a joke, I really don't know much!). That's why I'm here today to tell you where to look.

The first time I noticed something important about music was in a Mozart symphony last year. It wasn't a good performance (maybe that's why I noticed it). The symphony was called "The Jupiter", but I don't think that matters because I don't like the "I know it all" approach to music: Ah, The Jupiter, yes, of course. Beethoven's second Razumovsky Quartet, yes. Opus 106, a masterpiece. It does annoy me rather, you see this is talking about music without mentioning the music. Perhaps it is not talking about the music? I know it's helpful to use labels so we can know what is being discussed, but these are the names on the filing cabinet. They are the names on the files. They are not the contents of the files. Inside are lovely golden sounds without names. Songs without words that sing in my heart.

I forget exactly what it was in that Mozart symphony. I think it was a movement in the harmony. I realised he was doing something really funny, moving somewhere no-one could have predicted. I wondered why no-one was laughing. I think it was because they were hearing "A Mozart symphony" - the one in their heads, perhaps. You don't need Sherlock Holmes to tell you that the best Mozart symphony comes from Mozart, not from us. By some twist of fate, that was actually what I was hearing. Yes, no incompetence on the part of the conductor or players prevented me from hearing what the composer had put into the music. It was all there, and it always is in any piece or performance.

Music is highly cultural, you know. There is a lot to learn about. But as it happens you don't particularly need to learn any of it. If you are responsible and care about the music and why it exists then I think it won't hurt to try learning a bit. But you have to listen first.

I listened, and I am now telling you this:

A master composer knows his job and tries to get better at it.

The best composers didn't stop when they had had enough, or when they thought they were good enough. They continued changing.

In these cases, the golden secret inside centre of the music was what led the creator - it was what they were trying to communicate! In the other cases, the composer got tired and his forms started writing themselves, though there could still be flashes of inspiration. It could never dry up completely (some music leads me to doubt this but it is true)

The secret was called ecstasy. Did the composer want to be a composer, or could he not stop being a composer? "Ecstasy" is a word that means being outside yourself. What is outside? Whatever we don't already know. Other people. Other places. Other ideas. Mistakes. Answers. Genius.

Whatever you think about music, I think we all have to agree there is some kind of vision involved in it. Someone wants to communicate something, and that is their vision. It can be predictable, clichéed, or previously impossible - a surprising thing of brilliance and power. With skill, the vision becomes clearer.

That vision is present in every part of the work, and through the opposition between the parts we can appreciate what it is. (The word for an arrangement of parts is composition)

You won't at first know what a piece of music is saying. It's important to remember that it isn't saying anything. As long as you can say it in words, you are not there. You can talk about it but you have to live it to see it.

With repeated slow careful exposure to music you can learn to feel what it really is. Your mind is not understanding it, your heart is not feeling it, but these senses may be involved.

Remember what I am telling you: it is real. Music is real. There is a real reason for it. It is not something in a book or on a CD, it is something outside you, coming in. Also remember that if you were lost in a labyrinth, you might forget your journey. The outside might seem dark and unfriendly. Think then of what it's like to find the way through the maze. Find the end, and you see you were the one who had gone outside. Really the music is inside. People who don't listen are stuck outside. When we hear it truly, we are all joined up again. Or starting to be.

Primo Levi was in a prison camp. Then he sent us a message through his books so that the world would change. James Clavell was in a prison camp. He did the same. He did a good thing too, because he loved the people who imprisoned him. That is how he was set free. Any others who still hated them were still prisoners, weren't they? And Ronald Searle was in the same camp. He had to carefully hide his drawings while he was there. He sent us messages too.

There is a well-known analogy that life is like a bird flying through a lighted hall. It is light for a moment, then it is dark again. That's silly, because although I can see what it means, I think they are looking at it from the wrong side. Think what the other birds are thinking. Wot is that bird doing stuck inside that dark hall when we are all out here?

I spoke of prisoners because when we are stuck or lost, what we need most is a way out. Sometimes it is all we can do just to survive. There isn't much sign of life outside the prison. But one day a message comes.

To understand the message is all we need to do.

It is not obvious. But it is there. If you can love it, then you are hearing it.

This is the language of music.

Crown Clowns

The Crown Jewels of England are well known. I suppose they are the number one thing in this country to try and steal. Or, you could just admire them at the Tower of London without resorting to crime, which, after all, does not pay.

We had some other Crown Jewels, but one of our Kings (John of England) lost them. Yes, he lost them! He was near the bit of sea known as The Wash, and they got washed away. Deary me.

Then Oliver Cromwell took over many years later. He was not a King but a "Protector", and what he was protecting us from was Kings, among other things (he also protected us from theatre, Christmas, and fashionable haircuts). Having examined the record of one previous head of state, we can be glad Oliver was also protecting the Crown Jewels (which obviously need a lot of protecting, particularly at high tide). However, he didn't do a very good job, because all that is left of the Jewels of that time is three swords and a spoon. And you try fighting with a spoon. Possibly this is why he stopped protecting us, gave up and a big nest of Kings started growing again as Charles II returned from France where he had been visiting relatives for some time. Now that the English had resolved to stop cutting off the heads of Kings etc, it was safe to return and start thinking about new crowns and so on. Crowns are known for being uncomfortable, but let me tell you, you'd be glad of the feeling as long as it meant you still had a head to keep the crown on.

Right, who's going to lose the Jewels next? Oh, and have you looked behind the fridge?

Paderewski's Parrot

Paderewski had a parrot. He got it in New Zealand. It would scratch at the door when he was practising. Then when it was let in, it would perch on his pedalling foot. At certain moments it would exclaim,"Lord, what beautiful music!"

I read this in The Paderewski Memoirs. There is no mention of the parrot on the Internet, which is why I had to tell you the story myself. If you ask me, there is something wrong with people. Fancy not knowing about this parrot!

Weather, oh!

I have been checking the weather forecast for a few weeks.

Always it says that in two or three days the temperature will go up higher by a few degrees.

Then when the day arrives, nothing has changed - in two or three days the temperature will go up higher by a few degrees! Oh, why do they torture me so?

But, as you know, the weather is not predictable over longer than two or three days on the whole.

Seemingly the weather forecast is entirely predictable!

Rain is good but I do prefer the sunshine. Which I am unlikely to see in London very often!

Where else should I go? Any suggestions? You could form a Philip Howard Escape Committee. Those who want me further away, send in the name of a suitable place. Those who want me nearer, write in with the name of the place where you live.

I wonder where I would end up like that? Anyway, I know you are too polite to make suggestions like that. You will just have to wait and see.

Now, which way is the sun going? I should follow that.

I heard that Alexander the Great went to see the Greek philosopher Diogenes. Diogenes lived in a barrel and was lying down next to it when Alexander came. He said to Diogenes,"I am ruler of half the world. Whatever you ask of me, it shall be done. Now what do you wish?" and Diogenes said please could you move a bit to the right, you're blocking my sun...

You know, a barrel rolls. It must be a good way of following the sun. I wonder if that's a possibility?

What did the barrel have in it before Diogenes? Wine? Fish? Heraclitus? It makes all the difference to the internal ambience.

But I guess the sun is always the same, eh? When you can see it.