Sound from the Well of Silence

Listening with an open mind is, for me, the source of all truth. But in order to listen, we first need silence—within ourselves, and of course also in the physical world. Either we create it, or we learn to recognise it.

What does this mean for us in Baroque music?

Breathing

Music breathes—so what matters are the moments between the notes, between the phrases. This comes much more naturally when each note has a shape—what we call messa di voce. This is not a fixed shape, but rather any expressive, interesting shaping of the tone. When we focus on giving each note a shape, our concentration becomes so complete that no other thoughts are possible. In this way, we come close to a kind of meditation.

Acoustics

It is important that we sometimes practise and perform in good acoustics—for example, in a beautiful church or a large hall, the kinds of spaces in which Baroque music was originally performed. Of course, practising at home in detail is essential—it is the foundation—but we should not lose sight of the bigger picture. The acoustic in which we play is part of our instrument, and we must learn how to use the resonance to let the music breathe, so that the audience can fully perceive its effects.

Ensemble

Because in Baroque music we play without a conductor, and almost always with at least one bass instrument, we are above all chamber musicians, not soloists. We depend on one another. This means that our ability to sense musical impulses from others and respond instantly—almost instinctively—must be highly developed.

For example: how do we begin together without a conductor? In my experience, when everyone shares and feels the moment of silence before the first note, the ensemble begins together naturally, without hesitation. The same applies to phrasing: when everyone knows where we want to “breathe” and listens for that moment between phrases, communication happens automatically. Musicians look around, listen deeply, and respond. This is, for me, communication without words—a far more effective form of musical communication. Ideally, very little talking is needed in rehearsal.

Playing together

For me, playing together—in music and in life—is at the heart of everything. If one truly wants to understand music, and especially Baroque music, one needs other people. This music was written to express words and affects—human emotions and experiences. It is about people—and people breathe, are sometimes irregular, and are not machines.

Human beings have the ability to feel and enjoy silence, and to use it as the ground from which music can arise. To do this together is the essence of art. In this way, music allows us to communicate with one another in a special, almost meditative way—and perhaps even to come closer to the magic of music, and to our best selves.