Flautist Sally Walker. Photos by Miranda Lawry.
In my life I feel incredibly privileged to work with so many wonderful musicians like Sally. She’s amazing. We went to school together and then she skipped off to Europe and played with some of the best orchestras in the world (Leipzig Gewandhaus, Berlin Philharmonic...). I was so amazed that she said yes when I asked her to play one of my little tunes on my album I was flying. Wow.
Anyway, I asked her some questions and she gave me some remarkable and moving answers...
Five Questions for Sally Walker
1. I've known you since we were both 12 years old, growing up in suburban Canberra. Since that time, whenever I think of you, you have a flute in your hand. I have this notion that your instrument chooses you, not the other way round. Is this perhaps the way you feel about the flute?
Hi there Sal. Hmm…I remember you on the organ, on the bassoon, of-course on the piano, running off to do ballet and already accompanying choirs. It is really special to have known you since we both wore pig-tails and now to have recorded your exhilarating piece together.
I agree with you…somehow you know the instrument is there waiting…I know for me that my first music teacher, the brilliant Judith Clingan put a flute in front of me after some years of recorder/voice/Kodály /Musicianship. I played one note on it and it immediately felt very right. The funny thing is that after that beginner’s luck, I spent a whole music camp week subsequently trying even to make a sound! I just couldn’t do it. I held so many long notes in front of the mirror, trying to get the angle of the embouchure right, and remember the reflection of my mother and the flute tutor curdling in the mirror as I became dizzy. So, I had to wait a year (and I was physically too small for it to be wise choice at that stage) and was given a plastic fife. I really wanted to play the flute and so waited this very long year and then began learning. If this was not my instrument, I am sure I would not have had this patience.
2. Your flute has taken you to the other side of the globe and to play with some of the greatest orchestras in the world like the Berlin Philharmonic and the Leipzig Gewandhaus. What is the attraction for you to the orchestral repertoire?
I just love it. What attracts me? The richness, the sounds and textures, the dynamic power as well as subtly of colours and the feeling of excitement of being a small part of an enormous, multifaceted organism. The feeling of being lifted to another dimension. I started to write down some favourite works and composers…the symphonies of Beethoven, Brahms, Mahler, Shostakovich, works of the French impressionists, then the requiems, masses, overtures, accompanying concerti… it is impossible to try to make a list; there is just too much great orchestral music to mention. I also love how playing in orchestra brings people together and forms a sense of team.
The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra in particular was extraordinary, not just because of its musical level and integrity but also because of its history. This is an orchestra that J.S. Bach founded, which Mendelssohn and Brahms conducted and in DDR times before the wall came down, had very little contact with the western world. This is the city in which the revolution to bring down the wall, began.
Many of my former colleagues told me moving stories from these times…of the Monday protests, of being interrogated at home by the Stasi before tours, of losing relatives to defection or worse, without a trace. Also of the closeness and community that communist times brought; not having telephones, having to barter and share as resources were limited and being an elite group that was allowed to travel into the West and taste bananas (there were none available in the former East Germany). That they lived through this time together has given them great solidarity and I felt this warm, enveloping support even as an outsider. Anytime I was sick, several people would call, some might turn up at my door with oranges or offering to take me to the doctor. The purity, sincerely and intensity of music making there is like nothing I have experienced elsewhere. When the doors close for rehearsal, it is almost a spiritual experience that everyone shares. I was very aware, both then and now, of how precious it was that I could be a part of that.
3. We've worked a few times together on contemporary works with new music ensembles like Halcyon. Sometimes this music can seem a bit frosty and academic to an outsider. What would you say to encourage a novice to give this fabulous repertoire a bit of a go?
My advice would be to keep an open mind, a sense of adventure and to do some sleuthing before hand. I heard Steven Isserlis play with Connie Shih in a wonderful recital two nights ago and he said that the one contemporary work on the program (Lieux retrouvés, Thomas Adès) was Connie’s four year old daughter’s favourite piece on the program. I heard other children saying this too. I notice when we have had young children listen to very complex contemporary music in our audiences, they are very open to it. So, I wonder what have we lost? What has changed with age or education? Perhaps have we dulled our sense of adventure and a certain receptiveness to new sounds? Are we only warming to certain sorts of melodies or harmonies?
For me, a great thing about playing contemporary music is that – on the whole – the composers are still alive! You can see them, ask questions, watch how they work, what they eat, which other fascinations they have. Often they attend premieres and audience members can come and talk to them afterwards. Sometimes they talk about their works beforehand. Conversely, last week, I did a recital with a beautiful quartet by Franz Danzi. I can hardly find any information about him or the piece and this is so frustrating.
Even if the composers are not present at a concert, usually the program notes (and I know ensembles such as Halcyon put a lot of thought and effort into them) are excellent. I try to get to a concert early so that I can read the program notes ahead of the performance. It reminds me of when a high school teacher put on a recording of Penderecki’s “Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima” with no context as an experiment. Many were unable to access it. The teacher then explained the title as well as the subject matter and upon a send listen, there was a much more appreciative response.
I just remembered, there is a contemporary music ensemble in Freiburg (Germany) called "Ensemble Aventure”. Aventure is the french word for “adventure”; isn’t this wonderful? Perhaps this is the way to approach this repertoire.
4. The piece we recorded together, Road Trip, is about a weekly commute I used to make to work as an accompanist at the Newcastle Conservatorium. You continue to maintain a sizeable teaching studio there and every time I hear about what your eclectic students are up to, I'm so impressed! Do you feel it's important to encourage your students to pursue a wide variety of different music making activities?
Tricky question. Although my immediate answer is a resounding “Yes!”, I am also aware that if a student wishes to have an orchestral career or enter international competitions, this is a very serious pursuit with much to accomplish in a competitive path and there are only so many hours a day for practise. When I was doing these two things, I simply could only focus on the music at hand, which was very demanding. For students who wish to follow this plan, I need to teach in a particularly organised way.
However, as you have experienced from our flute class, the students have varying individual goals. I just try to accompany them on what their inclinations are and avoid restricting them. The course in Newcastle has become very open and flexible in recent years with many students very clever in experimenting with a number of different music making activities. If I reflect on just the last two years, some of my students have been playing: Klezmer, Argentine Tango, Baroque Flute, Indian Venu, South American Quena, Celtic wooden flute, performing flute whilst dancing, improvisation, flute and technology effect units…many are composer/performers… Perhaps the two most visible presently are Jennifer Hankin who plays with a terrific ensemble called “Vanishing Shapes” . She is adept with many forms of folk music, can make the piccolo sound like a Quena and often uses a head-joint which plugs into amplification. Then Sarah Monk plays with the "Tone Camerata”, which was selected for the New Music Network’s Mini Series and do interactive visual arts/music installations/performance art and have an Indian Carnatic singer, a Brazilian Berimbau-player amongst them, making a unique sound scape. None of these were things I covered in my formal studies!
I am glad that it is not the ambition for all of them to become professional orchestral players due to the limited number of job opportunities. Having said this, some are focussed solely on orchestral and standard recital repertoire, but learn vicariously through listening to the others and vice versa. They are very supportive of each other and I am really happy about this.
5. The profile of classical music here in Australia is quite different to what it is in Europe. Some might think you mad to leave that behind. What's the best thing for you about working in the classical music industry in Australia?
I feel very connected to both places. Each year I lived in Europe, I came back to Australia and did concerts or classes. Now I live in Australia and return to Europe each year and do concerts or classes. Just the ratio of time spent in each continent has altered. Australia is my home and I missed it when I was away. When I made Australia my postal address again, I felt ready to have my own class at a tertiary level. I knew that at least two of the scholarships I had won had a condition of later imparting the knowledge gained overseas to Australians and I needed to honour this.
It is true that that profile of classical music in Europe is extraordinary (and there is substantially more government funding for the arts) and it is something I try now to help my students experience. I would really love for them to view the organ that J.S. Bach put his fingers on, to visit Mendelssohn’s house and gaze at his water colour paintings, to see the harmony exercises in Mozart’s house, to hear a mass in Notre Dame and experience a European winter.
I teach them in a way that I think will help them pass the entry auditions and can help with logistics in getting there/starting anew. When I went, I really had no idea at all and haphazardly dived head-first into the experience, making many mistakes (not helped by my suitcase not arriving for a week when I first landed mid-winter). Very luckily, Prof. Andrea Lieberknecht accepted me into her class and helped me enormously with literally everything, for which I am very grateful. Six of my students have gone onto study in Germany (one was even accepted by my second Professor, András Adorján – a very proud moment for me) and most of them are playing professionally now.
For me, the best things about working in the classical music industry in Australia is the level of innovation and the people. Maybe because we are a newer country, we don’t feel obliged to adhere to decade or century long traditions (although I love some of these traditions). Australians don’t seem to be inclined to pigeon-hole themselves and programming reflects this with enormous inventiveness. Most performances I have played in during the last year have referred to larger literary, artistic or historic themes; the level of collaboration between the arts is enormous. In Australia, I have already collaborated with actors, photographers, dancers, wine-makers, film-makers and writers (as well as musicians of course) and am open to see who else approaches me. I am constantly impressed by the level of drive and ingenuity of many small ensembles and individuals here who survive on little to no funding with their highest artistic ideals keeping them inspired.
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