INTERVIEW | Shiyeon Sung | "music really is about getting in touch with one’s emotions directly"

In conversation with Shiyeon Sung
Interviewed at Royal Festival Hall, London on 15 June 2018.
 

Shiyeon Sung, © Yongbin Park

When conductor Han-Na Chang fell ill days before the concert celebrating the cultural exchange between the UK and Korea, it was to Berlin-based Shiyeon Sung that the Philharmonia Orchestra turned. Following my interview with Sunwook Kim, the soloist of the concert, I conversed with Sung the morning after the concert at a café nearby the Royal Festival Hall. We talked of her transition from pianist to conductor, the conductors that inspire her, heavy-metal music, the issue of form in conveying music, music critics, and on the possibility of a distinctly Korean style of music making, of many other themes.

Below is the transcript of our conversation kept in chronological order, translated from Korean. The content is left largely unabridged in attempt to maintain the spirit and flow of the actual conversation. If some inconsistencies are detectable, I take them as being an essential character of human conversation.

My review of Sung’s concert with the Philharmonia and Sunwook Kim can be found here. My interview with Sunwook Kim can be found here.

I.

Young-Jin Hur (YH): Good morning. I heard you arrived in London two days ago. How are you finding the city?

Shiyeon Sung (SS): I’ve been to London numerous times before. Three years ago, I made music with members of the Philharmonia Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall for a series of concerts called ‘Music of Today.’ However, it is the first time conducting the full orchestra. For this reason I may have been a bit nervous last night (laughter).

I was contacted about yesterday’s concert last minute, in the midst of concert schedules in the south of Germany. As soon as I learnt of my appointment as substitute conductor, I rushed into London with just my bags and scores. The notice was so short that I worried I would be underprepared for the concert. I won’t lie, I was excited but nervous at the same time.

YH: Does this means you didn’t have much time to rehearse?

SS: We had two and a half hours to rehearse yesterday before the concert.

YH: That’s incredibly short!

SS: Yes. In Germany, we are typically given three days to rehearse excluding dress rehearsals. So yes, one can say there wasn’t enough time. Normally the orchestra and conductor need time to understand each other’s beat… the rehearsal time from yesterday was all that was available to us.

YH: Do you think the connection you built with the orchestra during last evening’s concert can positively feed into your concert tonight (Note: The same program with identical musicians was scheduled to be played at the Marlowe Theatre in Cantebury in the evening of the interview)?

(both laugh)

SS: Each hall has its own unique atmosphere, acoustics, and audience. It is difficult to promise that the mood of one concert can spill into another.

YH: So you are saying it is difficult to predict the mood of a concert?

SS: Yes. Speaking of myself, I can never predict my biorhythm until I am on stage (laughter). The biorhythm of each of the musician will ultimately also influence their performance.

II.

YH: I read that you played the piano before you became a conductor. What inspired you this transition?

SS: When I played the piano, I had a feeling that I wanted something more. In school, I used to download many albums and videos of concerts. It wasn’t that I didn’t go to concerts. I lived in Berlin for some time, and if I had missed the Karajan era, there was Abbado at the Berliner Philharmoniker. But coming back to the story of downloading, I used to download concert clips of famous conductors, and I was especially keen on conductors from the mid 20th century, especially Furtwängler. Conducting seemed to be liberated from the solitary struggles of a pianist. I especially admired the energy involved in conducting an orchestra. Conducting felt like something I had to do in my lifetime.

I had no prior experience nor knowledge of conducting, and to make matters worse, I wasn’t even proficient in any of the orchestral instruments. I heard that here in Europe, it is usual for conductors to gather experiences from a young age working with smaller ensembles. My move to a conductor precluded any of these privileges (laughter). One can say it was a case of pure willpower. There were many around me who spoke against such career advance of mine, but I stood by my decision nonetheless. The whole situation certainly had an absurdity to it, now thinking about it.

(both laugh)

YH: Isn’t it the principle of life that if one truly tries, things will eventually come together (laughter)? In any case, I think you touched upon some interesting points. Even though we have renowned pianist turned conductors, such as Myung-Whun Chung, I would venture to guess that it is seemingly more natural for a string player to become a conductor than a pianist. After all, a string player would have an intrinsic understanding of one of the key instruments of an orchestra.

SS: I agree. Isolation is very much part of being a pianist. Unless a pianist is dedicated to chamber music or enjoys accompanying roles, it is easy for him/her to spend much time locked in his/her own world.

There are many advantages of a conductor being trained as a pianist, however. For example, I have always been attentive to the multiple lines of thoughts and the architectural outline of scores. I suppose this owes to the characteristic of the piano as an instrument. The piano can convey complex expressions more than other instruments when played alone, relatively speaking.

YH: Yes, I can see that. On a related note, I have come across the news that pianist Sunwook Kim, with whom you are having the series of concerts with the Philharmonia this time, is studying to become a conductor. Do you give him some advice on how to conduct?

(both laugh)

SS: None at all. In fact, Kim has expressed in many of his interviews that conducting has been a dream of his from a young age. Given the international reputation he has built as a pianist in addition to his incredible talent, I have no doubt he will be able to fulfil his dreams once he truly pushes for it.

Shiyeon Sung, © Yongbin Park

III.

YH: You mentioned earlier of your admiration of great conductors from the past, and mentioned Furtwängler. Are there other conductors that have caught your eyes?

SS: I tend to prefer conductors who are no longer alive. These include Carlos Kleiber and Claudio Abbado, for example. I don’t feel close to authoritarian conductors, because I think conductors should inspire and collaborate.

YH: In comparing the music made by authoritarian conductors and non-authoritarian conductors, can you notice a difference in the sound that is produced?

SS: Yes. When describing the sound of the Berliner Philharmoniker, for instance, people often say that the sound fostered by Karajan is different to that of Abbado, the successor. Karajan had an ability to generate a sound that he specifically had in mind, rather than allowing the musicians to voluntarily express themselves. In terms of arousing inspiration, Abbado made music by encouraging communication between the musicians. During rehearsals, Abbado would ask musicians to listen to each other. At the end of the day, while there are conductors who like to push for their ideas to every detail, there are others who, by asking musicians to listen to each other, admire how the various individualities can be “melted together” in harmony.

YH: One can say that there is something quite natural in the latter?

SS: Yes, one can say so. I consider it a misfortune I was not in Berlin in the right years to experience Karajan’s soundworld in the flesh. Based on anecdotes, people say that the sound of the Berliner Phiharmoniker changed drastically since then. With Sir Simon Rattle, we have another distinct sound, needless to say. The variety of orchestral sonority may depend on the orchestral musicians themselves, but one simply cannot ignore the role of conductors in forming an orchestra’s sound.

IV.

YH: I would now like to ask you a number of questions that go beyond the realm of classical music. When people outside of Korea think of music and Korea, they often think of K-pop rather than classical music. Do you have any thoughts on this? Do you listen to K-pop yourself (laughter)?

SS: Yes, K-pop has indeed gained an international reputation of late. In my childhood, it was rare that any form of popular music was played in our house. Maybe it is because of such background that I never felt close to K-pop. That being said, in my teenage years, I listened to a lot of heavy metal. I think I listened to heavy metal as a symbol of revolt (laughter). Apart from this digression, I cannot say I found much interested in other genres of music outside of classical music. So one can say I sought the extremes in music.

(both laugh)

Of course it is inevitable to avoid K-pop in Korea, since so many people including friends listen to it. Here’s the interesting thing. When I catch glimpses of K-pop abroad, I get nostalgic about Korea. Whenever I visit an acquaintance who lives outside of Korea and the acquaintance decides to play K-pop, a wealth of memories arise. It is hard to ignore such personal impact. Still, I don’t know K-pop well. I did hear that it has quite a reputation outside of Korea these days! Is it really so?

YH: Yes, I think so, at least compared to any other non-Western popular music. I am sometimes asked if I critique K-pop if I simply present myself as someone who dabbles in music criticism. If I may compare K-pop against classical music, both types of music stimulate certain emotions in the listeners. But they stimulate distinct emotions that are different to each other.

In any case, it is refreshing to hear your anecdote of how you listen to music. I, too, spend endless hours listening to great conductors from the past. Also, I used to be very much into heavy metal too in my teens! Related to this, were there heavy metal bands you were particular fond of during your years of revolt?

SS: One cannot take out the “Mecca” of heavy metal, Metallica!

(both laugh)

YH: Incredible! I used to love Metallica. I was quite into the whole thrash metal scene, so I spent many hours listening to the likes of Megadeth, Slayer, and so on.

(both laugh)

SS: Oh, you’ve chosen the cream of the crop!

YH: This might come as a strange question. In classical music, do you think there are composers who evoke the moods and techniques of heavy metal?

SS: Hmm… It is something I’ve never considered before. Would you include all genres and eras of classical music?

YH: Yes. How shall I put it... the reason I ask this is because you implied earlier that classical music and heavy metal represent two extremes. But it occurred to me that when we look around, it is surprisingly not uncommon to encounter people who like both heavy metal and classical music. So I was curious if there might be an intrinsic link between the two genres, generally speaking.

SS: That is true. Could it be that in both cases, there is a sense of catharsis?

YH: Yes. I also think the ideals of both genres share a sense of sobriety and perhaps a sense of structure that keep what we might call “schmaltzy” or “sentimental” at bay. It is an overt generalisation I admit, but these were some explanations I could think of off the top of my head.

(Note. In describing what both heavy metal and classical music might share, I used a Korean word that directly translates as ‘hard’, ‘durable’, or ‘physically tough’ that implies a certain rigidity or coldness. On second thought, I am concerned that this characterisation is far from satisfactory. For instance, the sensual sonorities of Debussy’s works, the limping waltzes of the Strauss family, or the scintillating theatrics of Mozart’s operas are anything but rigid. Furthermore, how common is it for people to denigrate artworks they do not favour to being “sentimental”? Many questions arise, before one can even begin to answer the question of what commonalities classical music and heavy metal have in common. Is there such thing as a generic characteristic of classical music or heavy metal for that matter? Is there any objectivity in the claim of sentimentality in art? In what ways do individual preferences shift perceptions of art and the language used to describe art?)

SS: That may be so. Whatever the case is, both genres of music stimulate the senses, even if they might not trigger the exact same type of emotion. Both types of music have the ability to awaken what is inside. For example, I think people listen to K-pop and jazz because they evoke what is common. Heavy metal and classical music, on the other hand, is about the exploration and stimulation into the unknown.

YH: That’s a very novel thing to say.

SS: But returning to how classical music can have elements of heavy metal, I will give an example that can sound utterly bizarre, and I can imagine how people will judge me for this (she starts humming a rhythmic theme).

YH: Ah, that’s the Scherzo of Bruckner’s 9th symphony! It is a coincidence that Anton Bruckner is a specialty of mine! In fact, I often see a certain link between the music of Anton Bruckner and heavy metal. If you didn’t bring up Bruckner just now, I would have brought him up anyway! If people who listen to Bruckner like listening to heavy metal too, this might not be an accident (laughter).

SS: Isn’t that a bit too strong of a claim?

YH: Perhaps. Given my background as a researcher in psychology, I think I enjoy looking for patterns in human behaviour. For example, it would be most interesting to look at how heavy metal fans react to the music of Bruckner and Mozart. I am not suggesting that one composer is better than the other, but I believe that both composers may evoke different qualities of emotions generally speaking. My intuition is, of people who like heavy metal, there may be more people who enjoy Bruckner’s music than those who enjoy that of Mozart, for example. Bach would especially be an interesting case. I cannot see Bach’s music not being liked by heavy metal fans.

SS: I agree. There’s something quite extreme in Bach’s music. In terms of the mood, Bach’s music is also quite serious and philosophical. These moods can be associated with heavy metal, I think.

V.

YH: It is clear that you’re well versed in various forms of music. Beyond music, is there a type of art you particularly like?

SS: I enjoy paintings. Living in Berlin, there are many galleries and exhibitions to go to. I also enjoy watching films. That said, I cannot say I take part in art forms that are out of the ordinary.

YH: So these are occasional hobbies that you take part in when you have free time?

SS: Yes.

YH: Are there any specific genres of paintings or films, just off the top of your head?

SS: Since late Romanticism is the era I feel most at home with, I feel attracted to Impressionism and works that are rich in colour. I don’t think my preferences changed throughout my life. I’m fond of the likes of van Gough and Chagal. When it comes to films, I tend to like the classic ones rather than, let’s say, science fiction. Overall, I watch a wide range of films.

YH: I see. I have always been fascinated in how different forms of art can interact with each other. When it comes to music, I often think of the quote that “architecture is frozen music.” Given your profession as a musician, I was thus curious whether you also feel a certain affinity toward architecture in any way? For example, when you look at cathedrals, is there something musical in them?

SS: In the sense that the creation of large buildings require hard labour and meticulous planning, I see a link between architecture and other art forms. But whether music and architecture are linked together in the manner you presented, I cannot say. Maybe I say this because I am a musician. For me, music transcends everything including other genres of art (laughter). I am sorry for such a simple answer. I haven’t really thought about these issues before.

(both laugh)

YH: I can understand. Even Goethe who said the earlier quote about architecture and music, was only an enthusiast of music after all, not a professional musician. Maybe people without musical backgrounds think of perspectives on music that musicians have rarely considered, just as much as the opposite is true.

I should also add that I think the reason Goethe said this quote was because of all genres of art, music and architecture appear to stand out in terms of having form without content. Here we have two art forms that are clear in their structure thus form, but that which lack a verbalisable narrative, in other words, content.

SS: Yes, I can see that. Every piece of music has a clear form. At the same time, we don’t go to concerts to admire the forms. In architecture, one can directly be moved by physical form itself. When it comes to music, I doubt that people sit down and analyse musical forms during concerts, of, for example, what the structure a work has and how these structures interact with each other. On the other hand, people listen to music to feel emotions.

YH: Yes, you are correct. When you conduct, you surely have to consider the structure of the work, right?

SS: Yes, of course. Still, we don’t discuss the technicalities of form too much during rehearsals. If we do, we can discuss how a theme should develop through its multiple variations and presentations throughout a piece. But that’s about it. I cannot imagine that most musicians are interested in the technical structures of a work. Although one can indirectly grasp the form through multiple playing or listening, I think music really is about getting in touch with one’s emotions directly. So this links to what I said earlier, that music is entirely different from any other art form. In any case, it is a fascinating question you asked about music and architecture.

(both laugh)

VI.

YH: Since we briefly skimmed over the relationship between writers and music, I would like to ask a question concerning music and writing. As a performing musician, what do you think of music critics?

SS: I think music critics have always existed where music was. When new works are premiered, for example, it is necessary that these works are evaluated professionally. Music critics would inevitably play a big role in the lifeline of a composer (laughter). As a conductor, I learned that while it is true that one has to listen to everyone, it is not necessary to take in everything that is suggested. When I read reviews, I try to understand what the writer thinks of other conductors and orchestras in general. With this in mind, if I agree with what he/she wrote, I feel there is a need to take the critique seriously. If there is a criticism or advice toward my performance, I try to accept their thoughts in order to develop my future performances. After all, I don’t think I will stop learning in this profession. However, if the critic has a musical understanding that is entirely different from mine, so for example if his/her assessment goes in the entire opposite direction of what I had intended, I don’t feel the need take in those opinions too seriously. I would read the writing and simply think, “well written!”

An important aspect to all this is the fact that music is incredibly subjective. It is difficult to define music, and everyone has their own set of preferences. One cannot satisfy everyone. At the same time, I can imagine that critics have worked countless hours to be in the position they are in. They would have learned and listened to so much music. What they’re doing is admirable to say the least.

(both laugh)

How did you get into music criticism?

YH: Music has always been a part of my everyday life. Besides, as a PhD student, writing is something I am expected to do regularly. That’s what made me think that I would like to start writing about music. In the beginning, I started with CD reviews and long essays that linked music with the likes of literature, fine arts, and philosophy. More recently, I decided to capture the unique atmosphere of concerts in music by dedicating myself to concert reviews. From this summer onward, my plan is to interview musicians. Through these interviews, I want to understand the lives of musicians and what they think of the arts in general.

SS: So this is not your main profession?

YH: No.

SS: And you’re doing all this out of pure passion?

YH: Yes. I tend to be fatalistic when I reflect on why I do this. After all, I am not doing this for the money or any other person’s request. I took part in meaning-giving activities my whole life anyway. When it came to music, I wanted to do things properly and systematically. Being in London, a city where we are always surrounded by music, I just couldn’t throw this opportunity away.

SS: I guess this means you go to numerous concerts? What did you think of last evening’s concert?

(both laugh)

YH: I thought the performance of Grieg’s piano concerto was impressive. It was a joy to hear the chemistry between the soloist and the orchestra, especially of how the orchestra didn’t overpower Sunwook Kim’s piano in any way. I also noticed the prominent timpani and woodwinds, which gave a good definition and colour to the music.

SS: Is Grieg played often in London? In Germany, it is not the case.

YH: I cannot say I have seen Grieg’s music too often in London. The last time I listened to the piano concerto was during a BBC Proms concert maybe 4-5 years ago.

It is somewhat surprising. I think the British have always shown much sympathy toward Scandinavian and Nordic music. Maybe it has to do with the weather, I don’t know, but I think the British sentiment suits the sentiment of this part of the world. Sibelius is a classic case. I cannot imagine there would be another country outside of the Scandinavian and Nordic countries that play Sibelius more often than here. It was Karajan who introduced Sibelius into the musical landscape of Germany, but I don’t think Sibelius really caught on there.

SS: Not at all. The music by Sibelius is quite rarely played all around the world.

VII.

YH: If we look at conducting styles especially from the 50s and 60s, there seem to be distinct national styles. One can, permitting a bit of liberty, speak of typical Russian or German styles of conducting. In light of this, do you think there is such thing as a distinctly Korean style of conducting?

SS: I don’t think so. Korea does not have a long history of classical music, especially when it comes to conducting. It is only in recent times that Korean universities started teaching conducting systematically. After all, these so-called national styles develop with education. At the moment, even universities that teach conducting as a subject are not many in number. Nowadays, young Korean musicians aspiring to be conductors can follow the lines of the likes of Hun-Joung Lim (Note: Last year, Lim released a landmark Bruckner symphonies cycle with the Korean Symphony Orchestra, under Decca Korea) and Chi-Young Jung in places like Hanyang or Sookmyung Women’s universities. Slowly, the number of young conductors are increasing, therefore. However, I cannot say I know too much of Korea’s education system when it comes to conducting, apart from the fact that Korea doesn’t produce as many conductors as other countries. Perhaps having an increasing number of professional orchestras may also help, because orchestras can exist when there is a conductor.

When we come to the question of what a Korean style of conducting could be, I think many people will associate this with the achievements of Myung-Whun Chung. Still, the style that Chung conducted when he was young is different to that of now. There may be those who try to imitate Chung’s style, but at present, it is difficult to characterize a conducting style that is uniquely Korean.

YH: Perhaps the nature of the question relates to my own Korean identity. Given that I lived most of my life outside of Korea, I often wonder what it means to be Korean, in terms of what the national sentiment is. I firmly believe that a national sentiment, assuming that it exists, is closely linked with how art is created in that nation. For example, I often think of the multi-layered emotionality of the Han (한) sentiment (Note: According to Wikipedia, Han refers to “a collective feeling of oppression and isolation in the face of insurmountable odds, the overcoming of which is beyond the nation's own capabilities. It connotes aspects of lament and unavenged injustice.”). It is quasi-Japanese in the sense that there is much focus on a certain inevitability of lament. At the same time, Koreans are also known for their untethered hedonism of Heung (흥), which I find is very uniquely Korean, distinct from neighboring countries. So I was curious how these sentiments could be portrayed in music making music. For example, I think Korean cinema is very good in portraying both sentiments to their extremes. Koreans produce films that are deeply poetic and stoic, but also films that go over the top in terms of emotional expressivity.

SS: Indeed Koreans can be expressive and emotional. However, when I did conducting masterclasses in Korea while I was still at the Gyeonggi Philharmonic Orchestra, I always had the impression that young conductors were too much by the textbook. One could joke that this is the true Korean style of conducting (Note: Sung’s comment is a twist on Korea’s rigid and formulaic education culture).

(both laugh)

SS: I think when it comes to conducting, there is only so much we can learn from others. One can teach how to beat. However, like singing, conducting is a skill that requires the use of the entire human body. Thus it is difficult to construct an equation of how conducting works. It is really about how one is in touch with one’s own bodily rhythms in portraying one’s ideas to a group of musicians. In Korea, students seem to focus too much on learning how to beat by the rhythm. Perhaps this is a reason why Korea is struggling to produce conductors. Still, I do not want to be so pessimistic. There are young Korean conductors who are conducting abroad as we are speaking, some of whom are producing good results in major competitions. So there is much hope.

YH: Thank you. I will conclude with one short final question. What are your future plans?

SS: I started a new life in Germany 3 months ago, after leaving the Gyeonggi Philharmonic Orchestra. I would like to continue conducting in Europe and solve problems I was not able to solve while I was in Korea. Ultimately, I would like to find a personal space where I can develop further. When I say personal space, I mean that I would ideally like to find myself in a chief conductor position of an orchestra. That is the goal.

YH: Ah, I see. I wish you all the best of luck.

SS: Thank you.

Shiyeon Sung, © Yongbin Park

My review of Sung’s concert with the Philharmonia and Sunwook Kim can be found here. My interview with Sunwook Kim can be found here.

Young-Jin Hur
@yjhur1885