Стивън Гарднър е ирландски композитор на съвременна класическа музика, ниша, до която по неговите думи малко хора успяват да се докоснат днес. В началото на април тази година Стивън беше част от двайсет и второто издание на Международния фестивал за клавирна музика ppIANISSIMO, в рубриката Композиторски портрети. Радвам се, че той откликна на молбата ми за кратко интервю, което проведохме по електронна поща. С него си говорим за музиката и вдъхновението, за пътя му до композирането, за впечатленията му от концертната му вечер и от българските музиканти, както и за следващите му проекти.

Stephen, how did you start writing music, how did you become a composer?

I started to play the guitar in my early twenties. I joined a band, then took up classical guitar, then theory. I went to university aged 26. Realising I wasn’t that great at the guitar, I did what most honourable failures do – took up composition. I continued with it after postgraduate studies at The University of Wales.

Is there a musical tradition in your family and was it hard to find your own voice in music?

Yes, but I ignored it until my twenties. I didn’t even know there was an orchestra at my school. My father taught piano part-time, and was a church organist and choirmaster. My brother Paul was a gifted prodigy on the piano. I found my voice later. I must have been absorbing stuff subliminally.

How does music happen to you, how does a tune come into your head?

Tunes aren’t too much to the fore in contemporary classical music. I usually hear what I want to write in my head. I learned to train my brain to assemble sounds. I do sometimes stumble on a ‘tune’ or two.

Is there a work of yours about which you can say 'Oh, this one surprised me'?

Not really, but for the large orchestral works, I often say ‘Did I write that?’

You also compose choral music, The Savior Must Have Been a Docile Gentleman for example. Is composing for a choir different than composing for an orchestra?

For me, yes. I tend towards the more lyrical in my choral writing. Sometimes just using the white notes, as in the above. Harmony plays an overriding role. I search for more mystery too.

I assume your works have a plot – I had the honour to listen to Two Guys Walk Into A Piano Bar and in this work especially I can distinguish two different plot lines. How do you construct the different „characters“ and musical parts that create the polyphony in your works?

A plot might be pushing it a bit too far. ’Two Guys..’ is more of a development of two guys sparring and interacting with each other – a self perpetuating scene. The polyphonic nature of my works is the most interesting and rewarding. Particularly in the orchestral works. I’m keen on ‘structure’, especially for the larger works. And..I can often hear a whole work in a matter of seconds.

Your first commission as a composer was for the Ulster Orchestra – Wanting, Not Wanting (1992), a reaction to the Northern Ireland conflict. Do you think music still has the power to change the world we live in or has it, after the technological boom, turned into something we can listen to only for pleasure? Do you think about music as an act of resistance, as a political act in the broader sense?

I would never consider anything that I write being remotely world changing. I’m in the business called show. The above work was a personal response to people being killed in a Betting shop. Contemporary classical is a niche area, so few will access it. However, I do believe politically orientated music comes in waves. Have, for instance, any of the anti-war songs changed any conflict? I doubt it. Have war requiems prevented future wars? Unlikely. It’s probably important to compose around these themes, as a means of expression and release. And, it’s satisfying for all creators to have listeners deriving similar feelings.

And while we’re at it, another question: One of your tunes is dedicated to Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani girl, who was shot and almost died as a response for her activism. Her rebel act brought her Nobel Peace Prize and she is now a hero who has survived a murder attempt, and keeps doing what she does, namely fighting for education rights. Do you think this can bring real change in her society and in society as a whole?

Now then, the wonderful and inspiring Malala. She ‘has’ been world changing, and an inspiration to millions, not least the many girls wanting an education. Societies will change because of her, and many others. My composition was a celebration of that stance.

I heard a tune on your website, called Malone Lives, and it’s easy to guess it is a response to Malone Dies by Samuel Beckett. I also know that in 2018 you finished a big project titled Ulysses Extended.  So I’m curious, how does literature inspire your works and where do you see the relation between literature and music, considering they have different languages?

Well spotted on the ‘Malone Dies’ front. The work was commissioned to launch Dublin’s Culture Night. Molly Malone is a symbol of Dublin. We were in a recession. So, the title was a play on rebirth and Sammy (my favourite writer). It uses the Molly Malone tune, and is almost accessible. I also wrote ‘4 Beckett paragraphs‘ for choir and ‘More Pricks than kicks’ for orchestra.The Ulysses work was interesting because we took the text and extended the words into other sounds, both vocal and instrumental. It was workshopped over several months. I wrote a basic score, then we improvised around that. As for the relationship of ‘languages’, that is part of the challenge. Ulysses is often beautifully musical in itself, and therefore begs the question ‘Why ruin it?’. It’s another form of music that composers want to create. The languages can be similar. Even reciting some of Ulysses can be impossible without forming a musical phrase. Then, of course, there is the rhythm, lyricism, structure. Literature and music often make good buddies.

I can’t help asking you about traditional Irish music, which is world-famous and loved very much after the great success of the Riverdance and Lord of the Dance shows. I heard an excerpt from your string quartet piece titled Jigs and Reels. How does the rhythm and the time signature of the reels and the jigs inspire your works?

When Bill Whelan changed the rhythmic pattern of Irish traditional music, it gave it a new lease of life. He had done it with Planxty, but, more famously, with Riverdance. So, in the past a tune might have gone diddily diddily diddily diddily. Whelan morphed that into Diddilly diddily deh deh deh. That one riff is the defining ‘riff’ of Riverdance. There is still much beauty and richness in the more traditional formats. I sometimes dip into it. I’ve included snippets and abstractions of Irish Airs in several works. The first prize I won was for a diddly dee development called ‘Last view of Sam Curlick’. The judge said he could see the representation of a wake for Sam Curlick.

You came for a second time in Bulgaria as part of the ppIANISSIMO Festival and composed the The Clockwork Soldiers especially for the festival. Tell me the story behind the title, the idea that inspired you.

I‘d seen a short film which included clockwork soldiers wonkily walking their way. That was it. Music formed right away. This would be great for ppIANISSIMO, I thought. I had flute, clarinet, violin, cello and piano to work with. I was going to have a ball, and hopefully create a quirky and fun piece.The performance was magnificent.

In my opinion, although I’m not a musician, your music is difficult to perform. Did the Bulgarian musicians give something new to your music and how was your work with them?

My work is often difficult to perform, in terms of speed and complexity. The Bulgarian musicians well amazing. They had many rehearsals, for months, before I arrived. That is a bonus. The standard of musicianship was extremely high. But, above all for me, it was the energy, drive, commitment, and apparent pleasure with which they performed that added to the best performance of my chamber music that I could have hoped for. There was a musical conversation going on. Exactly what I wanted. And, they shaped the music in interpretive ways I hadn’t even imagined. That’s the perfect marriage. I was very touched by it, and they were a great bunch to work with. They could take the piss too, which I like.

And, of course, what are your next projects?

I’m currently working on a project similar in format to the Ulysses project. This time the theme is the gift by the Choctaw people towards Irish Famine relief. It was a remarkable gesture, especially considering they were fleeing and destitute themselves. The musicians, apart from the experimental singer, are different. Percussion, wind instruments and Cello add to the brew. A bowed Waterphone will feature. The poetry is by a Choctaw poet LeAnne Howe, and an Irish poet Doireann Ni Ghriofa. Doireann is a wonderful poet, and a possible heir to Seamus Heaney. Some of her lyricism is truly beautiful.

Then I’ll be doing a more conventional work for piano and Cello.