Competition on the Scales

The Sydney International Piano Competition of Australia, (SIPCA), has arrived and while listening to every note that has been either coaxed or demanded from the keys, I've been weighing up the pros and cons of competition.

"Music competitions are meant to identify the strongest young players and contribute to the establishment of their professional careers but are they necessary and do they really turn out the best performers?" This is an interesting question, and you'll find it at the Classic FM SIPCA website, (click on the title of this blog for the website link)

I've been looking forward to this prestigious competition all year, and I had not really thought about why until I came across the above question. I think one of the resons for all the excitment is the promise of all these young aspiring pianists coming to one place and providing a smorgasbord of entertainment and musical exploration. I love the fact that competitions entice contestants from all over the world to participate and consequentially bring their own culture with them to the stage through their music.

On the issue of whether competitions are a necessity in the development of future careers, I think they can be a starting point and a helpful key in getting yourself noticed. However, I do not believe that winning a prestigious award constitutes a definitive pathway to becoming a renowned and inspired musician. Music, for the most part, is a visceral expression of life. I believe it is the inexplicable need to express the varied elements of the human condition through music, that creates and nutures the true musician.

This process can take a whole lifetime, and it is inspiring to listen to both young and more mature performers, as you can get an idea of how interpretations evolve and change with the aquisition of life experience.

In weighing up competition, it is also necessary to think about all of the elements involved that are not so conducive to bringing out the best performances. 1. The pressure to play in a way that will impress the panel and ultimately win you a prize, rather than presenting personal interpretations of the compositions through the pure joy of making music 2. The thought that "I can't afford to make one glitch, because the person in front of me made no mistakes", or in other words "unnecessary noise". 3. The chance that you could come across a negative critique of your performance which throws you off. 4. Rivalry between competitors (although from what I've heard, the contestants for SIPCA were generously supportive of last minute changes in scheduling due to delayed flights). 5. Delayed flights.

So, where does competition lie on the balancing scales for me? Just now I'm listening to a fantastic performance from a pianist who I would not have heard of if it were not for SIPCA. However, the end results will hold little importance to me. In other words, "the competition" is meaningless, as what is important to me is the music being made and how it speaks to me in the moment.

Divine Heights

Chanted echoes hover over the cavernous space while solemn artefacts age quietly by the wayside. The eyes lift to the high ceilings and the mouth exhales silence. But not a prayer escapes. Not here, in the old turbine hall.

Yesterday I spent an invigorating day on Cockatoo Island being challenged and uplifted by the contemporary art installations for the 2008 Biennale of Sydney. There is much to discuss after seeing such a variety of work. However, I was most affected by the juxtaposition of the divine and the profane.

Walking through the old turbine hall, I felt as if I was entering a sacred space; a sense that was heightened by the haunting sound installation by Suzan Philipsz. The rusting remnants of equipment used by the men who used to inhabit the space told their stories and it was as if the place had conserved the spirit of shared toil.

In stark contrast, a work consisting of historic graffiti in the shipyard bathrooms proved that many of the workers held less than honourable ideals. This was not Vernan Ah Kee's only contribution to the exhibition. For the Biennale, Ah Kee has created 12 magnificent charcoal and pastel portraits.

"The drawings inhabit the space as an Aboriginal and 'human' presence. On gazing at the oversized portraits, the viewer experiences a sense of discomfort, as the confrontational act of the stare...is strongly felt"

Having been previously confronted by these extraordinary drawings, I was overwhelmed by revulsion as I entered the bathrooms and saw the racist, sexist and derogatory remarks scrawled all over the walls. Alone these works provoke visceral reactions, yet together this was powerful art; work that points the finger and delivers the evidence.

It was the return journey to Circular Quay that turned my musings towards the approaching mayhem of World Youth Day. As we successfuly pulled into the quay, a group of exuberant Italian visitors broke out into songs of praise. I could not help but smile at their joy and at the thought of the multitude arriving in Sydney to embrace a shared expression of their belief.

Faith is a pure foundation for spirituality. How sad it is that cracks appear in the walls when those held high abuse their power and scrawl their profanity over the lives of the innocent.