INTERVIEW | Trevor Pinnock | "music has to be a human expression, but it's a very disciplined human expression"

In conversation with Trevor Pinnock
Interview on 24 October 2024

Trevor Pinnock, © Gerard Collett

Recordings are an important ingredient in expanding one's global audience, and the prolifically recorded Trevor Pinnock, a founding figure of the historically informed performance (HIP) movement, is no exception. Yet Trevor's own words about his recordings - "I’d prefer to leave those recorded performances as a memory, you know – just like a live performance... recordings are not a sort of testament to your beliefs in how things should be done. It’s just a moment in time" - suggest that the artistic value of a performance (as it were) does not depend on whether the performance takes place in a studio or a live (unrecorded) setting. Ironic, then, that an artistic reputation should be so closely tied to recordings when they are only a small part of a musician's larger artistry.

Speaking with Trevor after his day-long rehearsal with the Academy Chamber Orchestra of the Royal Academy of Music - which I had the joy of partially attending - was a pleasant and informative affair. There was always something to learn, be it Trevor's empathy for various musical performance traditions, his emphasis on disciplined human expression, or his knowledge of when to interrupt an orchestra during rehearsals and when not to. All this was discussed in a warm, congenial atmosphere.

Yet once we touched on the idea that recordings are merely a moment in time, it soon dawned on me that this recorded conversation, too, was just another fleeting moment in the vast sea of time. A 30-minute interview -  a concert of social exchange, if you will - is by no means adequate (nor is any interview) to capture the essence of a great musician. The text below, then, is a memory of a brief moment - just as Trevor characterised his recordings - but one that undoubtedly highlights the human behind an ongoing musical legacy. 

Below is a transcript of our conversation. Minor edits have been made to improve readability.

Please note that the present interview is part of an interview series on the music of Anton Bruckner. See also interviews with Mandred HoneckJukka-Pekka SarasteKazuki YamadaPaavo JärviEdward Gardner, and Semyon Bychkov.

[Note. All interviews on the website are approved by the interviewee or manager prior to publication.]


I.

Young-Jin Hur (YH): Welcome. Thank you so much for making time today.

Trevor Pinnock (TP): Thank you for having me.

YH: I had a great time attending the last hour of your rehearsal, where you rehearsed Mendelssohn's Third Symphony. Perhaps this is a good place to start the interview. How did the rehearsals go and did you achieve everything that you wanted to achieve during the afternoon?


TP: We've had wonderful, concentrated rehearsals. I have a group of very fine musicians here at the Royal Academy of Music. But because we’re in a training institution, the orchestra that comes together is not an orchestra which is already established and works together all the time. So we have to make an orchestra from the beginning, to find a way of working together, breathing together, and finding unity. We work enormously hard to do this.

YH: Given your vast conducting experience, is there something you do in particular in these situations?

TP: A lot of this happens on the unspoken level – a lot of it has to do with breathing and listening… so the idea in the rehearsal is that music should become the primary language of communication. Only after that, sometimes things need to be clarified in words. For example, for people to know exactly what’s going on in the score, I might say, “Let’s listen to that passage without the first violins. Let’s play it only with the winds.” I’m actually thinking of a passage in the Brahms piece we rehearsed earlier. Once we played a certain section in the Variations on a Theme by Haydn with only the winds and lower string, the structure became very clear. Once we put the first violins back in, everything fitted perfectly and the ensemble became perfect. So the music itself gives us answers, not lots of talking.

YH: When you work with an orchestra that consists of young musicians, are there some perks you notice? For example, is there a sense of freshness or a sense of occasion that you don’t get in more experienced orchestras?

TP: Of course, they are students, so they are really eager to learn. They’re so eager and very motivated. And my job as a conductor is, of course, to motivate them even more. It’s a very interesting way of working. While I motivate them, what I ultimately want to promote is the notion that listening to each other is absolutely necessary. When an orchestra really listens and has the confidence as an orchestra, the phrases can take a lovely flexibility. The music is filled with humanity. For me, this is preferable to being an autocratic conductor who demands this and that note-by-note. In my view, music should happen organically.

YH: Would you say you adopt a laissez-faire kind of leadership?

TP: Well, yes… except that it’s not really laissez-faire. This means that I have to be right at the centre of the music-making process and we all have to find the centre together. So it means a very strong leadership, but one that gives the musicians space to make the music for themselves.

YH: Of course – that makes sense. And the way you take on this leadership is to encourage the musicians to listen to each other.

TP: Yes. Listening is always key.

YH: I must admit, though… perhaps this betrays my inexperience of being an orchestral musician but when you say that musicians should listen to each other, do you mean this in the sense of, “Hey, can you hear the tuba at the back?” I’m curious what you exactly mean by musicians listening to each other.

TP: It means that you have to be aware of the musicians around you and who you are playing with. Sometimes you have to be aware that there is another part of the music which you may not hear very clearly. In this case, you have to follow Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s advice: “If you cannot hear it, you imagine it.” And that brings a very special way of focusing, being there, and playing your part in the music.

YH: I see.

TP: Playing music is different to other disciplines in some ways. That’s to say, our whole education system is very much geared up to us explaining the analytical process of our decisions. That’s really a waste of time in music-making. There are some things we have to verbally clarify very clearly in music, but we understand much more music if we do things through music. So listening is at the heart of this process.

YH: In other words, while we cannot completely ignore some technical aspects of music, music is much more than that.

TP: Yes. That’s why musicians have to have very disciplined training to know what they are playing. But in order to really make music that’s breathing, you’ve got to trust and let go of the technicalities rather than obsess about it.

[Note. The dichotomy between technicality and intuition has also been discussed in my conversations with Paavo Järvi and Maxim Vengerov.]

YH: That makes sense to me. Is this a mindset you have always had since you first started your career as a conductor? Or this is something that evolved over the years of experience?

TP: This is the mindset of an older man, I have to say (both laugh). It reminds me of when Bernard Haitink once commented, on how as a young conductor, he did far more than he did as an older man – far more gestures… showing everything. As a young man, you feel that showing everything is something you have to do, and you see young conductors with absolutely brilliant, virtuoso displays of conducting – sometimes which helps the music but sometimes which doesn’t help at all necessarily. In general, as conductors get older, they become more selective with what they show and implicate. These are ways to build trust with musicians.

[Note. In my conversation with Kazuki Yamada, we reflected on Seiji Ozawa's views on big gestures of conductors.]

 

II.

YH: Are there any things you’re particularly selective about these days?

TP: You’re selective about when to give very positive beats – which excites the attention of the orchestra – and when not to go on beating in a way that only gets in the way of what the musicians are doing. If there is a strong sense of pulse that is set up – unless you want to change it – the musicians are able to hold it. They’re intelligent musicians. So, I’ve learnt over the years that sometimes too much gesture gets in the way of the music.

YH: Do you sometimes listen to your old recordings and you think, “Oh, I was trying to do too much”?

TP: No. Mainly because I don’t listen to my old recordings. Your recordings are there for other people to listen to (both laugh). Most of those recordings... the majority of recordings I did with the English Concert... I conducted while playing the harpsichord at the same time. And that’s a very special and remarkably effective way of working with musicians.

YH: When you say that you don’t listen to your recordings, is there a particular reason for that?

TP: How shall I put it… you’ve spoken to a lot of musicians. Do you ask them this question? If you do, did you ever find one musician who says, “Yes, I listen to my old recordings”?

YH: Of the people I asked this question to, no one ever told me they listen to their old recordings (YH laughs). But I saw some musicians choosing their own recordings when choosing their desert island recordings in the radio programme, Desert Island Discs.

TP: Really?

YH: Yes.

TP: Well… I’d prefer to leave those recorded performances as a memory, you know – just like a live performance. A performance is only a moment of time. Whether the performance is good or not very good is another thing – recordings are not a sort of testament to your beliefs in how things should be done. It’s just a moment in time.

[Note. In my conversation with Sunwook Kim, we discussed the ephemerality of live performances.]

TP: Well, today, I’m conducting pieces that I’ve conducted quite a bit before. But it happens that I didn’t conduct the Mendelssohn Scottish Symphony for 10 years and the Brahms for 20 years. It’s very interesting to see slight differences in performing these pieces during the time that I’ve gotten older.

YH: I was actually going to ask you about this. When we think of Trevor Pinnock purely through recordings, listeners don’t often associate you with the Romantic music you are playing tomorrow. So I was wondering whether the performance of these two pieces is a new practice or whether you did perform Romantic music often when you were younger, but just did not record them.

TP: Of course, when I was busy with the English Concert, I didn’t conduct much Romantic music. But I was still always doing some guest conducting and was for a time Music Director of the National Arts Centre Orchestra in Ottawa. During my time as Music Director there, we did a very broad range of repertoire. And so, the Romantic repertoire is quite known to me – it feels in my blood.

YH: Right. What made you return to this repertoire after such a long break?

TP: Oh, there can be a lot of different reasons. Here at the Royal Academy, my decisions also take into consideration what we think would be good for the orchestra. My choices of performance are discussed with people working in the Royal Academy. You know, we have to train an orchestra to do repertoire that musicians will be often called upon to do when they go into the profession. The Mendelssohn Scottish Symphony is, of course, very often played in public and orchestral players should know how to play this piece. The Variations on a Theme by Haydn by Brahms, on the other hand, is programmed not so often as the Mendelssohn piece. But it’s an extraordinarily difficult piece to play, and so we thought it would benefit the players to have them play this piece.

YH: I see. As a slight digression, may I ask what is so difficult about the Brahms piece?

TP: Oh, there are many difficulties. The variation structure of it is not always easy to bring off. It looks as if it should be a very simple piece, but actually it’s not. Musicians have to know what’s going on in the score and it requires very careful rehearsing.

From a conductor’s perspective, I think that quite a number of conductors would not like to perform this Brahms piece because it doesn’t develop like a symphony, where there is a first half and a second half – sometimes with repeats. There’s not a lot to do as a conductor. There’s not a lot to do expressively. What you have to do, however, is to build considerable trust with the orchestra and be very clear at certain moments and have the orchestra very confident about what they’re doing.

And then it’s also about finding the moments where we have to take the music to a magical place, and you have to set the musicians free to do that. So we worked on that this afternoon. I’m sorry you weren’t there in that bit of the rehearsal because we did a wonderful Grazioso variation which the orchestra played really beautifully, except it was quite ordinary and very professional. So I spoke to them and I invited them to make a special sound, to play just a fraction softer, finding the right phrases and staying in that magic place. When the orchestra did play in that way, that was incredibly beautiful. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.

When the orchestra set up the beautiful sound, I didn’t rehearse the whole movement again – I set down the baton and said, “This is absolutely what I wanted – let’s do that tomorrow. Let us set up the piece like this – let us take the journey and find out what happens.”

YH: And so you will not rehearse this section again at all before the concert?

TP: I’m not sure whether we’ll rehearse this section again. Today we certainly worked in so much detail on so many things – having found the magic sound, I didn’t want to work the orchestra because it’s only so long you can inhabit magic and it’s more likely to happen in a concert than in a rehearsal. And somehow if the magic happens too much in a rehearsal, it’s rather a waste - the chances are, you think it’ll come in the concert and it doesn’t come.

(both laugh)

YH: I suppose you can’t drill in magic. You cannot practice special moments.

TP: Yes. I have invited them and they found out what sound they can make. I judged it was better to leave people with the sound and say “Let’s take that journey.” I must say the orchestra really became cohesive during yesterday’s rehearsal and we worked on that very hard this morning, making them even more cohesive. Now, there’s a fine collectivity in the sound of the orchestra.

 

III. 

YH: It is interesting that we are talking of this idea of musicians playing collectively, which I feel is another way of saying that musicians are playing whilst listening to each other. I wonder if you had the time and opportunity to also bring in some of your musical philosophies during these rehearsals. Of course, you are one of the founding figures of the historically informed performance (HIP) movement. Given that you’ve done such wonderful work in this area, do you try to also implement a bit of these things into the Royal Academy orchestra? Or are you solely focusing on getting the basics right with the orchestra?

TP: It depends on the work, situation, and the orchestra. Luckily, I’m old enough to have complete comfort with different ways of performing. With this orchestra, I am, of course, informed by certain things of the historical background, especially by the fact that Mendelssohn and Brahms both have tremendous heritage from the past, which is clear in their compositions and their discipline. 

But sometimes, I explore sounds that are quite foreign to historical instruments. I generally have this orchestra playing with vibrato…not necessarily very much, though. Flexibility is key – sometimes we take it out, sometimes we add more for expressivity, but that’s with more vibrato than certainly Mendelssohn would have used in his time. I think vibratos are still tasteful. So I can quite comfortably inhabit different camps.

YH: That’s a wonderful answer. I am very impressed by the flexibility – we often try to portray things categorically but there’s always a place to be flexible.

TP: What’s really important is that whatever we do, we have to make music that, to us, feels honest to the composer and that we could present to the composer.

YH: Is beauty an important criterion as well?


TP: Yes, sometimes. However, beauty is not the most important thing. What is most important is that the music has to be a human expression, but it's a very disciplined human expression. And sometimes we also have to think about the age and environment in which the music was made. For instance, when we were playing the slow movement of the Mendelssohn symphony, I was trying to get a deeper sound in the violins – not more vibrato but more centre in the sound. I wanted more dark chocolate in there and I recommended 85% dark chocolate in the centre of the sound (YH laughs).

Then they made a beautiful sound, but it was expressive in the wrong way. Those phrases of music, beautiful tunes by Mendelssohn, have to have a huge amount of feeling. But Mendelssohn lived at a time and in an environment in which it would somehow be totally disrespectful to the people around if you showed all your feelings. It would be somewhat dreadful and out of taste. So we have to, I think, combine. That’s what I worked on with the first violins, to have this huge emotion underneath and a sound that could show this, but also not show everything. We live in an age where everything is shown and written about in a sort of disgusting way.

This reminds me... one of the benefits of working with my Japanese orchestra, which I love so much, is that they’re unlikely to do things over. If anything, I have to encourage them to show more emotions. Over the years, we’ve discussed how music is a safe place to show everything that we feel. Sometimes, I find that here in the West, there certainly can be too much shown in the music, which doesn’t feel right to me in music of certain periods - like Mendelssohn’s period. He was quite strict but very emotional – you have to combine the two.

YH: So much of musical expressivity seems to be about finding the right balance. It doesn’t seem to be very easy to achieve this.

TP: Yes, it’s about finding the balance. This is the thing of responding to our musical gift and musical instincts. Everybody will have a different sense of balance and in the end, I suppose there’s only really one important rule and that is to be honest to yourself in your response to the music. And then that’s the joy of having completely different interpretations of the same basic material.

 

IV.

YH: You talked about instincts. Do you think your instincts have changed over the years? Or are these things that cannot be really self-assessed?

TP: I hope I’ve learnt to be clearer about what are good instincts and what are not so good instincts. And I certainly feel more comfortable in trusting my instincts. I have a sort of checking procedure – I have an imaginary telephone line to the composer. Say, Bach… actually, I never dare phone him, he’s much too frightening. But Mozart and Haydn are both fine to talk to (both laugh).

Suppose I am playing a solo piece and I’d want to add in some fabulous and lovely ornamentation. I’d telephone Mozart and I’d immediately know whether this was a product of my ego or whether it was something suitable to the music. So we have to have little checks that we put on ourselves because sometimes we want to do something for the wrong reasons, but at other times, we should be bold to do something… even something that the composer hasn’t written in that way. You think, “Look here, could I play a passage like this?”, as if the composer is living today, and say, “Wouldn’t it sound fine like this?” In certain places, both the composer and I would agree, saying, “Yes, that’s a very fine idea.”

YH: So that would include going against the score sometimes.

TP: Well, it’s sort of doing more than the score is asking, which normally you should always be careful about. But sometimes, you should certainly be free to do so or certainly be free to discuss it with the composer, saying, “My musical instincts are telling me that this phrase could expand like this or it might be better like this – what do you think?”

YH: That’s a very imaginative way to make musical decisions. Now, because I did say earlier (before the start of the interview) that we will be discussing the music of Anton Bruckner, I think it is time I  steer the conversation in that direction. Have you ever thought of phoning Anton Bruckner?

TP: Well, I haven’t telephoned him since the time when I played an arrangement of his Second Symphony here at the Royal Academy. I had some access to him through having listened to his music and being in St. Florian. The Second Symphony showed his intense love of Schubert. It’s so Schubertian in its writing and so classical in musical structures – extremely disciplined and well-educated. So this opened up a way for me to enter Bruckner’s musical world.

I must admit, I don’t often conduct big, big orchestras, which often accompany Bruckner’s music. I more often conduct large chamber orchestras, like the orchestra I am working with at the Royal Academy. So my access of playing Bruckner’s music is not so assured (TP laughs).

YH: May I ask how that project came about in the first place, back in 2013?

TP: Well, you know, the Royal Academy and I have done a number of things following the idea of Schoenberg’s private society concerts in Vienna. The idea behind these private society concerts was a mixture of things. But in essence, they would take big works and arrange them down for a smaller ensemble. As composers, I think they were fascinated to see the workings of these compositions. There was a particularly successful arrangement of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, which I had also recorded with people at the Royal Academy. So following on from that project, we took another project where we asked somebody to arrange Bruckner’s Second Symphony. Since that time - and we’ve done other things, too – we had some wonderful arrangements of Bach keyboard Partitas, for example.

YH: I suppose there was a selection of pieces you could have arranged into chamber orchestra form, but you went for Bruckner. Was that decision anything to do with your personal fascination towards Bruckner at the time?

TP: No, it was a suggestion of the principal here, Jonathan Freeman-Atwood. He suggested to me the idea of playing Bruckner’s Second Symphony. I took interest because it’s a piece that is very rarely performed. And so this was how the project started. I can see that you’re a passionate lover of Bruckner’s music.

YH: I don’t know if “lover” is the right word, but, yes, I am quite partial towards the composer (YH laughs).

TP: I noticed with some other interviews. You seem to always ask about Bruckner.

(both laugh)

YH: Yes, indeed. I talk about Bruckner even more than usual nowadays given that this year is the Bruckner year.

TP: That is totally understandable.

YH: We are now reaching the end of the interview and I’d like to conclude with one question. So, you have a remarkable career as a conductor, chamber musician, and, of course, as a harpsichordist. 200 years later, when people look you up in books and websites, which of the three would you like to be described as?


TP: Oh, just a musician. A simple musician.

YH: Okay – that’s perfect. I’d like to thank you very much for your time.

TP: It’s a pleasure.

 

Trevor Pinnock, © Gerard Collett



Young-Jin Hur
@yjhur1885


© Where Cherries Ripen / Young-Jin Hur