Writings on Music - Gareth Farr: an interview

INTERVIEW

Note: this interview originally appeared in a significantly abbreviated form in the journal 21st-Century Music.

Gareth Farr was born in Wellington in 1968. He studied composition, orchestration and electronic music at Auckland University and was a regular player with the Auckland Philharmonia and the Karlheinz Company. Further study followed at Victoria University, Wellington, where he became known for his exciting compositions, often using the Indonesian gamelan. He played frequently as part of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra before going to the Eastman School in Rochester, New York, where he graduated Master of Music.

At 25, Gareth became Chamber Music New Zealand's youngest composer-in-residence. Since then, his works have been performed by the NZSO, the Auckland Philharmonia, the Wellington Sinfonia, the New Zealand String Quartet and a variety of other professional musicians. Gareth Farr is recognised as one of New Zealand's most important composers.

For more about Gareth Farr, go to his website.

I interviewed Gareth on a late afternoon in Wellington, in the windswept neighborhood of Owhiro Bay on the Cook Strait. Also present was Erica Challis, a writer and horn player for the Auckland Philharmonia. Gareth was relentlessly present during the interview, bringing the flamboyance, fearlessness and energy of his compositions and cabaret performances into the interview, which has been preserved here almost in its entirety.

TG: *So now that I've got you at my mercy, I want to know...
GF:  Absolutely. (roars) Whatin'ell you wanna know?!!?
TG:   ...why you never answer your e-mails.
GF:   Oh, that's not the worst of it - I haven't even answered the fucking telephone in a few days. This is panic time of year!
EC:   What are you doing? Is it...?
GF:   Always. March.
EC:  Is it Beowulf?
GF:   That was a bit of a bugger. And it's finished now.
EC:   Oh, you did it.
GF:   Oh, yeah. And I apologize in advance [to Erica as a hornist for the APO].
EC:   I warned Nicola [first horn]. (laughs wickedly)
GF:   (sheepishly) Umm. It's gonna kill them. It is Going to Kill them.
EC:   Us. Us. Us.
GF:   (chuckles) Not just the horn section! You should see the string parts.
EC:   Who's conducting it, do you know?
GF:   I haven't a clue - I don't even know when it is!
EC:   Neither do I - I don't know a thing about it. Are you sure this commission exists?
GF:   That would be a bugger, wouldn't it? Spend three months of misery, and hear them tell me "Oh, I think you must have misinterpreted something we said.." (to TG) It's this crazed piece that I've just written for them [the APO], and I was determined that it would be exactly what I wanted it to be, and not some Celebration Piece, with Pacific Island Drums - as I'm getting really sick of doing all that sort of stuff (laughs)... No, fuck it - I was going to write something 100 percent what I wanted to do. So it turned into this sort of underwater fight with this sea monster. I found this translation of Beowulf - and oddly enough, it's just been retranslated, so it's rather timely
EC:   Yeh, it couldn't be better.
GF:   People will understand what the hell it's all about. A Great, great theme for a piece - a HUGE monster, and an epic Battle - so the piece is just insane.
TG:   So it's a tone poem, and not a setting of the text?
GF:   It is, it is, in a way. I mean I always used to say I'd never write programmatic stuff - But. I think that's a load of bollocks - I think I love having visual images to go with things - even if they are just to make an interesting program note. And I think this one is a little more descriptive - I put a little bit in where the sword hits the plates on the side of the neck and just goes (makes horrendous scraping sound with hard palate)... It is so loud, and so bombastic... And here's the other thing: (puts on an innocent sing-song tone) "oh, we can ask that nice boy Gareth Farr to write us a nice little tune, with those nice little Pacific rhythms...ohh, what the fuck is this?!?" (chortles wickedly) Oh, well. SORRY, GUYS!!!
TG:  So I was going to say, "You'd think they'd know better by now," but evidently...
GF:   Well, I think the Rangitoto was a bit of a shock (looks askance at Erica)...
EC:  Yeh, well...
GF:   ...but I always come up with horrible stuff for you guys, because Queen of Demons was an APO commission, and that...
EC:   No we're not going to be horrified, we'll just say "Ooh, ooh, hard, ooh, gotta practice!"
GF:   Yeh, well, but that's nothing compared to what the [New Zealand] Symphony [Orchestra] does. I only just found out that the APO is coming down for the festival. That's great, I think that's wonderful. Has that ever happened before?
EC:  Yeh. Ages ago.
GF:   There's huge competition - competition verging on bitterness between the three orchestras on the North Island - and I think that it's such a wonderful thing to welcome an Auckland orchestra into Wellington, rather than go (in a stentorian tone aghast) "You cawn't do thaht!" Anyway, enough about you, more about me!
TG:   How does that complicate your role as a commissioned artist? The sense of competition? Or does it?
GF:   Well, not with [the APO] so much, because it's never much of a reality as they're always so far away and that's why we like them. The [competition between] NZSO and the Wellinton Sinfonia, however, is interesting; because that's two orchestras basically fighting over the same city - and the same players, and certainly the same audience; one of them saying, "well, we're the national orchestra, and you're only a Wellington orchestra;" and the other one saying, "piss off, we've been here for longer than you!"
TG:  "We're the City orchestra."
GF:  "We represent Wellington.."
EC:  "Bugger off and play in the provinces where you should be..."
GF:  "Yeh, go and play in Tamaranui on the main trunk line.." (quote from unsufferably old New Zealand pop song) And I've had little, little, little problems every now and then. When I did the orchestral CD, the Wellington Sinfonia were actually going to take me to court... (giggles incredulously) ...because it was going to be a CD of all of my orchestral music, recorded by the NZSO. However, Ruaumoko, which is a piece I really, really, really wanted, my most recent piece that I was the most happy with, was commissioned by the Wellington Sinfonia. And they had an exclusivity clause, which probably wouldn't have bugged them if had been any other group than the NZSO. But it was the fact that it was the Symphony recording it within the year of the exclusivity... It was going to be released well after a year, which was the contractual thing, but it was the fact that [the NZSO] were even going to use the parts within that year... And it turned into a bloody awful fight... Yeh, it was a pain. But, well on the whole, no.
TG:   It's not such a big deal for you.
GF:   Not really, not really.
TG:   I noticed that you tend to write a lot of orchestra pieces, and maybe that's just what I'm seeing because of the visibility factor. I mean, I'm all the way in San Francisco, and orchestral pieces just naturally attract attention, because there's just so much money invested in them.
GF:   Right.
TG:  But it really seems, even from looking at your list of works in the SOUNZ catalogue, that you've really focussed on orchestral music, especially in the past five or six years.
GF:   Yeh. I have - every now and then I think I'm incredibly lucky to have given that opportunity, because I remember very clearly from when I was studying at Eastman, in lovely Rochester...
TG:  Oh it's beautiful there...
GF:   (guffaws) Especially right now! (in February) The students there that were my age, postgrad level, had lots and lots of workshops to give them the opportunity to hear one of their pieces played by orchestra, because chances were, none of them had ever been in that situation. And [by that time] I'd had pieces played by youth orchestras and the APO and the Symphony, and I still felt that I was at a stage where I would hear the piece and think. "oh god, I'm learning so much about orchestration, shit, did I make a mistake there!" And I can't imagine how you would become a very good orchestral composer without hearing your music again and again and again and again and again, and just constantly [refining]. With the opportunities that most young composers have, I really think that it's almost impossible to become a good orchestrator. I mean, I think that orchestration is one of those things that you really can't learn in a classroom. It has been trial and error for me, and I think a reason that those kids overseas didn't have [many] opportunities is that there are just so many people vying for the same position. An American composer of my age is in a position that I just don't have any experience of...it's SO TOUGH! I mean, I really couldn't believe it. And it's not easy here because of the fact that there's less competition: of course that means that there's less funding, less interest, everything's on a smaller scale.

But I think there are huge things in my favor, definitely, having come from Wellington. You end up meeting people you would never have met in the same situation in the States, or something, because really big soloists come to New Zealand... Evelyn Glennie, for example, asked me to write a piece. If she'd come to even Australia [we may not have met]... It's just so easy in this country, because there are so few people, it's just such a small group and everything's much more intimate. She went out to the pub with us afterwards, and we were chatting away, and she'd heard about my music and me to write her a piece. "Yeh, sure... When d'ya want it - tomorrow morning??!? (laughs) I'll start on it now!" So that's happening this year - and that's another orchestral piece. Apart from all of that - getting opportunities and being lucky and getting [commissioned] - I love writing for orchestra, and it's a real hook. I think it's a lot to do with wanting to get it right, and hearing things and thinking "Damn! I can do better than that. I really stuffed that up," or something. Or thinking (reverently) "Oh, wait a minute!" Because it's such an endless realm of possibilities of different textures.

It really is infinite. I'm starting to play around with my home studio at the moment - slowly add little bits, and buying toys like this (points at TG's MiniDisc recorder) and really starting to wrap my mind around electronic stuff and how equally infinite that is, because I've never done anything like that. I've always been a one hundred percent acoustic composer - and if I can find the On button, I'm doing really, really well. (moans theatrically) "Where is the button, ooh, how do you make it go? Just give me some presets, I don't want to deal with all of the [programming]..." No, no, I'm just getting started.

I think this latest one [Beowulf] will be a lot closer to what I really like. And also, it's massively inspired by Christopher Rouse, who was my teacher at Eastman, who writes the most stupendous, insane orchestral music. He's a fantastic orchestrator, but it's music from another planet. (laughs) It's very violent and forceful and I always liked that. It pushes the the realm of orchestral music to the extreme. I don't think I got that far - I wanted to outdo him, but I don't think I did.

TG:   Well, I do notice that your pieces are marked with an extraordinary amount of energy. For instance, in "From the Deeps Sound the Great Sea Gongs" I was amazed that the piece was as long as it was without getting boring, even though it was basically a percussion piece and the orchestra was jamming along with it. Somehow things just kept moving along and the sense of suspense was kept up all the way to the very end.
GF:   Fantastic. Well, I'm glad you think that. APO just did it again...
EC:  That's the recording [I sent to TG]... Or, no?
TG:   I had the live performance, where the audience goes crazy at the end.
GF:   Excellent! Because what I was about to say was that was specifically one of the pieces that I listened to and thought, (wearily disgusted) "ah, man, I've bollixed it up!" Because I felt that the large part of the tone poem - it was commissioned to be the same shape and length as "Also Sprach Zarathustra..."
TG:   (laughs)
GF:  If you want to play "Also Sprach Zarathustra," why don't you just play it and leave me well in peace?! I totally went way outside anyway, because they wanted a really short fanfare at the beginning, you know, real "2001" [A Space Odyssey] stuff - and in the big tone poem I ended up with a ten minute first section, which I thought was more useful, and it has been. It's been very useful. But the second half... When I started to listen to the recording, I was just [saying to myself]"Oh, SHUT UP!" It got so lost in the middle. As you say, it's a bloody long piece, and I think it was the first time I structurally had to put together a piece of that length on such a focussed subject. And it really was: I couldn't go too far from where I'd set myself up. And I really liked what I had done at the beginning of that second half, with all the swirly stuff and the almost Ravellian things, and I didn't seem to be able to keep it going. Then it turned into Wagner, then it turned into Shostakovich, then it turned into bloody Mahler, even. At one point I was going, (gritting teeth), "Oh god, Gareth, why didn't you just stay where you were, it was quite a nice idea..."

I think that's a general problem with composers; not changing your mind every ten bars or so. That's what students do, and I always used to do it terribly. I would end up with a piece with forty different ideas in it and none of them developed. So I revised the hell out of it, I think it's the biggest revision I've ever done. I was really happy when the APO said, "Yeh, sure, that's fine, send us up some new parts." Because I didn't know whether they might say, "Oh, we really don't want any more work, putting together a whole new set of parts," and they were cool with it. It was such a relief to hear it in rehearsal and think, (sighing) "Oh, that's better." It's nice to have the opportunity of fixing up the past. (laughs)

TG:   The other nice thing about that piece was the sense of outrageousness. I don't think that you were trying to be funny, necessarily; but there's this sense of cockiness and exuberance, and just a little bit of breathless hilarity...
GF:   I know exactly what you mean, and I don't think I do that in a contrived way. I like extremity, I really do. Partially [in the case of Sea Gongs], you got the fact that the first ten minutes was performed by itself in the premiere, and then I had a little while to finish off the second part, (mutters quickly) not well enough, obviously. And I though, "well, I've got the audience for ten minutes, and chances are, this is going to be the only contemporary piece that they hear - this month maybe, this year maybe - it might be my only chance to entertain them. I don't want them to miss it. I don't want their minds to wander and start thinking about what they had to do [after the concert], or look at the program. (slyly) To a certain extent, I think that's what I do in person as well. I do tend to be kind of bombastic and loud, and I think it's very much to do with being eager to make an impression. Certainly, in large groups of people, I tend to be the exactly same way.

It's the way everything comes out; if I want to make things get out there and grab you by the neck, usually it astonishes me how over-the-top it comes out. The idea of the drums was definitely a rock-drummer thing. I wanted it to look like the way rock-drummers set themselves up: this sort of huge display of testosterone...

TG:   (laughs)
GF:   ...And it is funny, absolutely funny, because I, on the whole don't take myself really seriously, however, I'm 100 percent behind it. I think that's genuinely what I want to do but sometimes... I remember listening to a string quartet of mine, and I deliberately put really silly things into it, as if I were having a conversation, la-la-la, bla-bla-bla, and just sort of go PPPPHHH! from out of nowhere. I think that sort of thing's really funny! I hadn't really heard it before, because I hadn't gone to the rehearsals of the New Zealand String Quartet, and I was just pissing myself laughing and laughing. People were looking at me with horror! (incredulous dismay) "Wha..? Eh..? Is he having us on or something? Is he serious? How can he laugh at his own music?" And the music was like, "deedleedleedlup, deedlup, deedlup, bup, ppppphhhhh!" like really stupid Shostakovich! - only it was just me being very, very silly. And you're not allowed to do that in classical music. "You can't laugh! This is serious music!"
TG:   Even here?
GF:   Oh, totally, totally. It's very strange. And I think that sense of humour is one of the most important things. I think some of this I've just written for them [APO] may terrify the shit out of people, but some of it is very funny. I've got this bit where the whole orchestra goes RRRRAAAUUUUGGHHHH! (roars like enraged elephant seal) RRRRAAAUUUUGGHHHH! And that's ridiculous! (laughs) It's a horrible monster's scream, and I'm sure I'm going to laugh my pants off when I hear that. (to Erica) You be looking out for it, now, you hear?
EC:   Yeh, yeh, I can't wait.
GF:  Yeh, but you won't be laughing. You'll be going (makes alien spaceship sound) VWOOOP! VWOOOP - LOODLOODLOODLOODL!!!
EC:   War-whoops. Excellent.
GF:   Aww, it's full of war-whoops!
EC:   Yayy. (laughs)
GF:   Start somewhere down there and end on a top C.
EC:   Do you care about that top C?
GF:   No, no, I care about that VWOOOP! (laughs) I was going to put a little arrow, "highest note possible," but just go up there. It's funny, because in Rangitoto, there was this (rips up on the pitch) DOODLOODLOODUP, DOODLOODLOODUP, DOODLOODLOODUP! And it's written (glissandi instead of portamenti) DODODODODODODODUP, DODODODODODODODUP.
EC:   We're getting better at looking at them [and figuring them out]...
GF:  Such concentrated looks! No, actually, I wanted it to go ROOOP, ROOOP! (laughs) Don't worry about those notes! No one else is! Um.

(momentary silence settles, then everyone laughs)

TG:  You answer questions beautifully! That's really great! So I came so totally unprepared to New Zealand. I had some commissions of my own [that kept me distracted], so I don't even know what to ask you - so let's wing it!
GF:   Absolutely. I don't think anything you would do would prepare you for New Zealand!
TG:   Yeah, that's the impression I've been getting.
GF:   It's a funny place. New Zealanders are travellers; we're very well known for just getting up and buggering off. It's like, "I'm tired of being on a little island, let's go see this one over here!" I think also we've grown up knowing that we're not the world. That the world is the thing that you see on the news on the telly, in the papers; and a huge part of what we see as being that world is America, definitely. And there's a fascination about going over there. Or Britain [which] has been the stereotype for New Zealanders, though I think recently it's to the States where all the students have been going. It's not a shock for a New Zealander to go to the States and find out that it's not quite what they thought, that it's not like a sitcom, and it is a world of extreme diversity, which you don't see at all: you see white middle-class America on telly, and that's what we know.
EC:  But we always hear traveller's tales, right, that New Zealanders have come back and told us?
GF:   Yes, exactly, so we're sort of prepared for anyway. It's one of those things, like when you ask a New Zealander to do an American accent: they can do it. I mean, they might do a horrible one, or a really over-the-top one, but ask an American to do a New Zealand accent, and of course they can't: they don't turn on the television and see a New Zealand programme. A lot of people don't realize how different it's going to be. If we didn't speak English, I think it would be easier for people to cope with the differences, because they'd be expecting them. (growls) "Oh, it's a foreign language, everything will be different!" But as it is, you have to think. The general personality of people is very different, I think.
TG:   Yeah, it is, absolutely.
GF:   I get along with Americans really well, however, I must say, I've never dealt very well with (chuckles with chagrin) British people. I just can't do it! I don't know what it is! Well, I do know what it is! (laughs) They're bloody repressed! It's like, "Oh, pull your thumb out of your arse and wake up!" The only attitude that will absolutely drive me insane is (voice becomes deadly calm and superior) "We don't do that." I got that so many times, whether it was a spoken thing or just a look. In London, it was: (does "the look" for a few seconds, then says)"We don't do that here." Ppppphhh, fuck that, I'll do whatever I like!
TG:  That's one of the things that I noticed about New Zealand; it seemed to me that they had gotten over [all of that]. This is the American avant-garde stereotype of what Britain is like: if you've ever even touched, or even been in the same room as an electric guitar...they'll never take you seriously again! As anybody: a concert pianist, a composer, they don't even want to know your name. Is that true?
GF:   (roars with laughter) Does a bass count? I used to play one as a teenager.
TG:  A bass guitar, yes.
GF:   Yaaayy! I am very proud that I will never be taken seriously in Britain! That'd be right. And if you know that amps don't go up to "11." No, I think that's absolutely true, and I think we've inherited a little bit of that here…

I think one of my favorite experiences is going to a nightclub...for many reasons. (wiggles eyebrows suggestively) "Hawhawhaw." But also I think that some of the most exciting percussion music being written in the last ten years is techno club music - it's entirely percussive. It's all electronic, but there's some really interesing stuff being done, and I'm doing a little bit of that myself. Look, I don't have a bloody clue what the attitude is towards me in general [amongst New Zealand composers]. I think that I've managed to put myself into a pigeon-hole - which it isn't at all, it's completely un-pigeon-hole-able - because there are so many things that they're all scared of. They're all terrified of the drag thing.

I do think that the classical music scene in New Zealand - and I'm not sure that it's a "scene" at all - is very conservative. I know that academically it's as conservative as you could ever imagine. There's a way that you should approach music as an academic. For a start, I've never, ever wanted to have anything to do with the university system, after spending ten years as a student. I used to think "What the FUCK am I doing??" I was halfway to a doctorate at Eastman, and [I realized] "I don't have any interest in doing a doctorate." At that point, the only reason I wanted to be in the States was because the drag shows were so much fun; we were doing them twice a week.

TG:   You could have been "Doctor Farr.."
GF:   Doctor Lilith!! (laughs) That would have been great at the drag show! The only drag performer with a fucking doctorate.
TG:   But not a Doctor of Drag...
GF:  No, not a doctorate in Drag, no... I pretend that I have a diploma from the School of Drag... But the Master's was a wonderful thing to do, not because of the degree. At all. Certainly because of the exposure to the teachers I had there. I mean, that was fantastic. A couple of academic things did me a little good there, like learning how to do harmony and counterpoint properly, because I was usually such a lazy bastard with it.

No, it was generally good. But apart from that, it was the experience of going overseas and finding out what the world's all about. And that was a HUGE change for me, it was a huge step in my career. I didn't need to go any further than that, because it wasn't an academic thing in the first place. The only paper I've done towards that degree was an ethnomusicology paper [in] which I managed to [examine the subject of drag]. It was a great course; the ethnomusicology teacher at Eastman, Lynn Koskoff, is as mad as a snake. She's a wonderful woman. We were doing this paper called 'Ritual in Music' and we were talking about rituals and Catholic religion and African religions and all sorts of things, and well, how there's sort of like a real dictionary meaning of how rituals go. It's reasonably generic: there's often a shaman, they often go into a trance, they're often leading a group of people into some sort of ceremony. I thought, 'this is amazing!'- every single thing I read about it, sociologically speaking, I could draw so many analogies to a drag show! And I was thinking, 'I've got to do it, I've got to do it!'

And I said, 'Do you think I could do the paper on the drag show?' And she said, 'That's fan-TAS-tic!' And look, I mean, if you look at it technically, there's no difference. And she LOVED it. And I thought, 'I'm doing a doctorate in music, and I've managed to do my fucking first paper on drag! RRRH!'

Actually, I still really like it as a paper. I think I want to look at it again and take it a bit further, [especially] the whole aspect of a drag queen going into a different personality. I interviewed a few of them and I [asked], "OK, JUST,- out of drag, if I put you on stage, what would happen?" The response was, "Oh, forget it." No self-confidence, nothing. A different person.

I don't think I share that with any of them, because I think I'm... a little bit...(dissolves into laughter.)

TG:   You're not putting it on.
GF:   No, I don't think I am. I don't think I turn into a different person with a frock on. A very common question that I'm asked is, "Is Lilith a completely different person?" Well....Yeah! Because of the fact that visually for most audiences there is no similarity at all and I try to make it as far from me as possible. And also... Lilith can get away with things that I can't get away with! [Lilith] can go and slap some cute guy on the arse, and he's not going to say anything because there's this seven-foot-tall drag queen behind him. [Gareth Farr's] not going to get away with something like that!

Anyway.... (goes into Scots accent) Ehh,, I got a bit off the topic a liddle bit din't I? Talking about academic stuff....

TG:  …you were talking about the ethnomusicological ramifications of drag.
GF:  Yeah yeah. Even then I was kind of off the topic.
TG:  Well, you were talking about your doctorate; that's OK.
GF:  I've had a couple of interviewers say that I was so frustrating to transcribe! [They] get home and start listening and think, "You didn't finish that story..... oh never mind, you'll probably come back to it.... NO! Didn't finish that one either, you didn't finish that one...."
TG:  Well, it's interesting that, of the composers I've interviewed so far, their interview styles seem to follow their composing style a little bit. (Laughter ) Don't take that as....
GF:   No! I won't! I reckon that's a study in itself!
TG:  Well, I interviewed Eve de Castro, and she was extremely disicplined and brilliant and incisive, and then I interviewed John Psathas -
EC:  No, she digressed and digressed and digressed,-
TG:   Yes, she did, that's true, -
EC:   - in an incisive and brilliant way -
TG:   - but [the digressions] were episodic. John had this real groove and rhythm to his voice....
GF:  Babe! He's such a babe!
TG:  ....and you seem to be following some of your tendency to explore different areas... along the same road
GF:  That is one of those really fascinating things that no-one will never ever know about themselves, because you never talk to yourself! I think that you can't avoid writing music like you speak. I haven't really thought about this much, but...

But then again on the other hand it's one of those things: it depends on whether you write music absolutely straight from there (touches his chest) and I think you've just talked to two people who do. They're two of my favourite New Zealand composers without a doubt. And David Downes. He is, I think, the most under-rated New Zealand composer ever. He's fanTAStic! He's written a lot of music for Michael Parmenter, who probably has the biggest dance company in the country. I was going to say 'the States!!' (laughs) Oh, where am I?
That's an amazing colour behind you, by the way!

EC:  That's why I was lurking around behind you. I was looking at that sky.
TG:  I've got a good backdrop as I grill you here!
GF:   And he wrote a piece for 'Strike!' percussion ensemble just recently.
EC:  Are you playing, by the way?
GF:   No! Oh, in the Festival?
EC:   No, just generally.
GF:   Yeah, I'm going to be playing with them. I'm not officially part of the group but it's nice to...(slaps some rhythm with the palms of his hands) keep drumming. Keeps me in shape.

But um, yeh yeh yeh, John and Eve - that'd be a really interesting study, I think. So many things I want to study! I'm just going to have to wait til I get sick of music and I'm 86 and I've got nothing better to do.

TG:  You can go over your old basement tapes.
GF:  

Exactly. I kept an answerphone tape from Rochester. I just found it a little while ago. (laughter) It was a wonderful thing to listen to!

(Looks out window) It's getting really purply out there! Wow.

TG:  So, we seem to be coming to the recapitulation here, back to New Zealand composers and which ones you like. Bring us back into the main subject [which] is why you like them? If you can put it into words...
GF:  I probably could - on a very basic level in that their music grabs me immediately and I do see that as being an important part of entertainment. At the risk of sounding like a dreadful commercial jingle-writer, I honestly think that especially with an orchestral piece, you've been given the opportunity to entertain that group of people for ten minutes, and by God you'd better do it properly! Because you will not get that chance again, that orchestra won't do that piece again, and if they do you're bloody lucky. If you've written a piece [that's] designed so that after hearing it 20 times [the listener thinks], "Oh, there's an interesting thing....oh, you know I'm quite getting the hang of this piece now!" [then] you've completely fucked up. Completely. [Especially] if your piece is not going to be recorded and often they won't be. I was criticised a quite lot for some pieces - 'Sea Gongs' and 'Te Papa'- in that they were seen as being a little unsubtle. A little obvious - instead of artisticness, going for a real sort of showmanship. Liszt as opposed to Chopin. Whatever.
TG:  I don't know. I mean, what's unshowy about Chopin?
GF:  I mean, exactly! That's true.
TG:  You're not tortured!
GF:  No. Or if I am, I hide it well! (laughter). (demurely) My response to that was:..... Fuck off! (laughter) And then my second response to that was: I'd been asked to write a piece for the fiftieth anniversary of the Symphony Orchestra, and that was 'Sea Gongs;' and that really did have to make people feel good.

One of my favorite parts of DrumDrag, my drag show, is the stand-up comedy bits. I love them! I think there is nothing more gratifying or terrifying than doing stand-up comedy. The gratification you get from a whole crowd of people wetting their pants laughing at some dumb thing you've just said is wonderful, and it's because of that absolutely instant response. I think it's not necessarily the humour that's the key to what I like about that. It's the response. It's like talking to somebody that just goes (blank look for a few seconds). I'll last about ten seconds, if I'm not getting any response from them. Which is why there are good interviewers and bad interviewers. There are people who can't get me to talk for longer than 30 seconds, there really are! (laughter) I get very monosyllabic, 'Well, do you want me to talk or not?' A backhanded compliment there.....

TG:  You're welcome!
GF:  Those pieces were very specifically designed and if I had written an academic piece that was designed so that when you analysed it, you'd discover something wonderful about some series of notes....(laughs) John doesn't do that! Eve doesn't do that! John goes for excitement. I reckon John's music is a lot cleverer than mine....and I reckon that John is a lot cleverer than me too!! (camps) "Eee, dat's Greeks for ya!" I think that often John puts a HELL of a lot of work into his pieces. Actually I think that John and Eve put more work into their pieces than is appreciated by the audience, which is where entertaining yourself while you're writing the piece comes into play. Otherwise I'd be bored writing music.

We're just very different. We have very different styles. John's music, it can completely overwhelm you because it just seems to be an endless source of [ingenuity]. He doesn't repeat himself. Never! I do. I love repeats. I love getting stuck in a groove. (laughs) That's got to be a personality thing as well.

And Eve, Eve is also a very visually dynamic person. She wears really bright clothes - she'll turn up wearing a BRIGHT pink beret or something - and she's a graphic artist as well, you know, she is interested in that. And I think that if there's anything you can do to excite those people during that period of time, you've got to do it. And that's visual stuff as well.

What can you do? [If] an orchestra asks you to write a piece, you can't build in a whole visual display with it, because they haven't got the budget for it and they'll yell at you.! And that was a sneaky trick of mine, to have the drummers really be a visual part of that. And it's a very different experience listening to Sea Gongs on a tape than it is watching it live, just because of that. I made sure the drums were way up on risers and there's this huge line of rototoms gleaming silver. The drummers don't do anything for the first minute and then they do a big cymbal roll, 'oh look!' Even in bloody any old classical symphony percussion part, usually the percussionists sit down and don't do anything for a long time, and then often they'll all stand up together to do the big climax, and someone's going to go 'tang!' and someone's gonna go 'boom' and someone's gonna go'ksssh,' and it's not really that interesting. But nevertheless, the slight flicker of movement from the percussion section and the whole audience is like 'gasp!' (laughs) 'Are they going to do something?' And it's '- Oh cool, that was cool!' Then back to the music. And it's the only time that anyone ever moves onstage. Nobody else does unless the horns are sticking their bells up in the air or something. WHOOH!

TG:  Or swinging back and forth like Motown.
GF:  Exactly. And I love that! I love what ever you can get away with as far as movement goes. There's a whole choreography to percussion that I'm just starting to really work on now. I did a ballet: it was three percussionists in these huge towers which sort of had ladders up the side and things that they could climb on - very Stomp-y actually. It ended up being nothing like Stomp whatsoever but it looks quite Stompy and it was inspired by that jungle-gym type approach to percussion which I like... and ten female dancers. It was all choreographed by this fanTAStic choreographer, Shona McCullough. And I had sort of been thinking that in general multi-percussion setups are really interesting, because I was always the one doing those pieces in my student years, they'd be the really crazy ones.

Eve wrote this fantastic 'percussion all over the place' piece [for Strike] with these huge white screens behind me. At certain points in the score there was a little pause mark and I turned around [where] there were three pots of paint in primary colours, and I just picked up a brush and [went] 'Whhhhhshh!' on my screen. It was specified that it had something to do with what I had just done rhythmically and the great thing was that it actually made a sound, as well. So there was this little bit that had the two metronomes going at different speeds, 'tu-tu-tu-tu-tu' and the temple blocks, 'po-po-po' with the paintbrush....and the ....Oh! The very opening of the piece is 'BRRWAAAAH!!!!' y'know, huge sort of thing, and then just 'pwkkkwh!' a bright-red stroke, and people were just like 'Fuck, that's amazing!' cause you actually associate all of those strokes with [musical moments]. You'd remember what I'd done and they stay in the air, they sort of stay there throughout the piece and the great thing is you end up with two paintings. Which you can give to people in the audience.

EC:  Rolf Harris!
GF:  It's terribly Rolf Harris isn't it? It's called 'Conundrums.' (groans and laughter) Yay for Eve! Eve's got a sense of humour too, that's another reason why I like her. But......(assumes 'posh accent) the point of that being......(goes into Glaswegian accent) Eeyooh, 'e's forgotten wha he were talkin' aboot!
TG:  You were talking about how choreographed -
GF:  Oh right. I remember a lot of times people would come up and say, 'Look, it was a fantastic piece, it was so exciting, but....I love watching you just desperately RUNNING to get to one instrument!!!'[In] the whole physical nature of a [percussion] piece, that's exactly what happens. I mean, it's choreographed, it has to be, or you just won't get to that instrument in time. And so I was thinking, 'What if you deliberately put instruments awkwardly far apart, to make the absolute most of a movement?' Because you could play a piece, (quietly:)'tin-tin-tin-ki-tu,' no.......but if you put them apart, then you've got (reaches wide and strikes) that, that, that!....I thought [of] three guys doing that in synch - or not in synch, in canon or whatever, - there's so many visual things that you could do with that...
And there's a group of percussionists here, some of whom I've taught. They're around about my age - and they are just such fantastically dynamic percussionists. They were just perfect to try out this to try this sort of stuff out on, because they're all really really fit, really enthusiastic, and stunningly beautiful. So I made this sort of setup that really wasn't that many instruments but it covered all of the different ways that you could reach out, to the point that there was a gong that was WAY beyond their reach, and they all had to leap up at the same time and hit these tiny little Chinese gongs...

I mean, it's an amazing sight, but it's very very funny. Especially in canon.....(demonstrates) [The piece] was a first experiment into that area. It's got a lot further to go. In fact Murray, the guy who runs this percussion ensemble, has totally taken it on as his mission in life (which means that I don't have to do it now and I can get on with writing something else). It's good, I've found a keeper of the, whatever, the choreographic mission, and he's doing great now. He's written a piece called 'Cube' which uses these 3mX3m scaffolding cubes - really really big, basically one of them would fill this room - and the inside of the entire cube is covered with percussion instruments. It's an extension of 'Vixen' which was my piece. But it's more extreme - hanging upside-down from things and really climbing up onto it and I think going even further in the dance direction than mine. Mine was just kind of arm movements and things.

TG:  That reminds me of Evelyn Glennie because she's so dancy when she's performing.
GF:  Absolutely. And that was one of the things I loved about watching her....knowing that I was going to be writing a piece for her. Bare feet, I love it! I thought that was fantastic: because of the fact that it made her so stealthy onstage. It was just like she could sneak around and not make a noise. And I thought, 'This piece HAS to be something about moving around onstage.' So it's like this big journey from the percussion section.....leaving home basically. It's a journey from the percussion section out into independence. So she starts off as one of the percussion section, right in the middle, and she's wearing marching drums which sort of form part of the row of drum. But then she leaves it and moves forward, and docks amid a little percussion station a little bit further forward... and takes the drums off eventually and goes and does a marimba section, and finally there's this big romp at the end, right at the front of the stage.

My first idea was that she would have bells on her feet because she was just so good at walking onstage and that's so hard for most musicians - just to walk across the stage.... 'Oooh, everyone's looking at me!' It is very hard to walk across the stage. I remember even having to go and play second timpani in the middle of a piece (and it was just bloody Elgar or something ridiculous!) and it was so difficult to do. It's like, 'OK, I know people are looking at me' because that, if a percussionist moves, the whole audience is wildly excited, something's going to happen.

Oh, she's very good at it. Very good. She just does it very slowly, she knows people are watching her, she knows she's gorgeous - she's wearing PVC pants, for Christ's sake!

TG:  Well, one last thing. [A question that represents] the 32 pirouettes right at the end, and that is: Does this sense of motion tie in to your interest in working with Maori artists? Or do the two have nothing to do with each other?
GF:  They're bound to have something to do with each other. Two things: I can't say that I've ever really pushed myself into that area, or a Pacific Island music area. I just happened to be in a situation where I was [available for it]. And certainly, I stayed there, because I just love it. But I do think there's something very visual about Maori performance and Cook Island performance and the like that's such a profoundly exciting live experience. It's not intended for recording, it's not intended for appreciating later on on your own, it's all about live energy, and I LOVE that, I love that so much. And I think also there's a whole lot of things that Maori performance groups do that are absolutely visual: you know, all the facial features. And [there is] this thing that they do in a group, if there's one performer out the front... the whole group just goes like that (points hands at the ground, palm forward, twiddles fingers) and it's just to keep the visual energy going. Or spiritual energy, or whatever it is. But it's fanTAStic, it's very subtle. I can't remember what it's called; wiri, I think. It's great. It's this wonderful subtle thing that keeps this shimmering thing going.

And....it does [have something to do with my development], I'm sure it does. Not consciously, I'm sure, but of course all those things (lapses into Scots accent) go to make up the strange character that I've turned out to be!
TG:  Well, [we were able to] contact you finally because you were doing this show for [the New Millenium], and you were working with Black Grace at the time. I was wondering how that experience was? I guess you were doing some sort of extravaganza or something like that?
GF:  The extravaganza was enormous. I didn't actually have anything to do with Black Grace in that particular occasion. I haven't worked with them yet! I know the guy who runs it. It's inevitable that sooner or later we do something together. It's just that they're Auckland, I'm Wellington, that it's really hard to [interact geographically]. But I know most of the people in the group and they are fanTAStic.

But this extravaganza was beyond any proportion I have ever been involved with before. It was just HUUUGE. The guy who produced it and I have just put in an application for an opera because I think he's the only person who has come close to doing something that I consider to be what I would want an opera to be. No holds barred, AT ALL. You know. Not a producer saying 'OK, that might be all right for an event in the park, for the general population, but this is ART music we're talking about here, something ... (makes rude sound and gesture) If I want lasers and fireworks, I'll have them!! He had these HUGE BEASTS, coming up onto the stage, like HUGE, walking out into the audience, like giant moas and wetas. It was fucking amazing. And we in the percussion ensemble were suspended probably 100 feet in the air on a crane in a metal cage with pyros going off and the orchestra playing and....it was just fantastic. He's a wonderful guy. And so we've GOT to get that going because that will be the SCARIEST opera ever!

 

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A Conversation
with Gareth Farr

By Thomas Goss