Deana Luchia talks to acclaimed composer Sir John Rutter about carols, choirs and the need to get music into schools...
I‘m glad to report that Sir John Rutter – composer, conductor and a choral music legend who is intrinsically associated with Christmas – genuinely loves everything about it.
“I really do enjoy Christmas myself,” he smiles over Zoom, his eyes shining beneath, dare I say it, Father Christmas-like eyebrows. “It’s the time of year when the voices of politicians are briefly stilled and we can turn our minds to things that really matter – family, children, being together, harmony, peace.
All the things we would like all the time in our increasingly disordered and unhappy world. We can’t have them for 365 days of the year, but we do need that little oasis of calm.”
© Nick Rutter
We are talking in September, and even Christmas fanatics like me have yet to give the festivities much thought. But John, just back from conducting a 1600-person choir in Mainz, Germany – “It was heartwarming to see such a massive cathedral full of eager singers” – is already planning the concerts he will conduct in December.
This year he has two at the Royal Albert Hall, one at Guildford Cathedral, two in Stockholm, one in Oxford and another in Cambridge. At 79, he’s as much in demand as ever, his inbox always full of invitations.
“I want my Christmas concerts to be the very best they can be. It’s often the only time of year people get to listen to a choir. We try to capture the essence of the season. I take them very seriously,” he says.
Composer and arranger of dozens of carols over the decades, he wrote his celebrated Shepherd’s Pipe Carol while still an undergraduate at Cambridge.
Nick Rutter
What is it about Christmas that inspires him?
“It’s the high point of any choir’s year,” he beams. “In my junior school chapel choir we rehearsed for weeks for our end-of-term carol service, and our parents came and they waved at us and we tried not to look embarrassed. The music we sang is forever associated in my mind with that happy time of year.
“Music is what makes Christmas perfect for me. It’s a little glimpse of the world as it should be.”
John’s longer choral works – including his Gloria, Magnificat and Requiem – are performed around the globe. A great advocate of the power of choirs, he established his own – the Cambridge Singers, created formally in 1983 – to record his compositions and arrangements.
“It’s the same kind of excitement you would get in a sports team,” he reflects. “I was absolutely hopeless at every kind of sport and I really didn’t care who won. But I do like being part of a team, which is what a choir is. A highly skilled and coordinated team.”
We chat briefly about Sir Antonio Pappano, whom I’ve just seen conducting the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican. John describes him as “masterly” and “cheerful”. He’s also a very physical conductor, known for his vigorous arm movements.
Alex MacNaughton
John Rutter conducting a 'Come and Sing Day' at the Cadogan Hall Photo from: Alex MacNaughton 22C Highgate West Hill, London, N6 6NP 07774 839 660 alex.macnaughton@virgin.net Vat No. 722 764 5
What kind of conductor is John?
“I tend towards the exuberant, too,” he says.
“I keep telling myself to be a little more economical with my gestures, but I never quite manage it, as I get carried away. Some conductors play up to that. The great Leonard Bernstein was significantly more exuberant when the cameras were on him than when they weren’t.
“Conducting is quite draining though. It’s physical, it’s mental, it’s spiritual and it’s emotional too, because if you’re conducting a very emotional work like a Rachmaninov symphony, or Mahler, that emotion has to flow out of you into the orchestra.”
Surprisingly, perhaps, John does not come from a musical family.
“I don’t think my parents knew what they got with me,” he says, describing how one primary school report noted: ‘John sings well if he sings softly.’ “I was a bit overenthusiastic even then!”
Nor was his passion just for singing.
“There was an old upright piano in our flat in London, left by the previous occupants. One day I lifted the lid – I was four or five – and it was like someone had given me the key to a magical garden. I could actually create these sounds all by myself. I just thought: ‘This is wonderful; this is a world I want to be a part of.’”
Nick Rutter
Fortunately, he was encouraged by Edward Chapman, Director of Music at Highgate School, who told pupils that composition was normal; that musicians compose. It was the kind of affirmation which, much to John’s regret, children rarely receive at school today.
“Music lessons should be front and centre,” he insists, “because music enables so much else. It’s been proved that children exposed to music do better in other subjects. In a choir you learn leadership, teamwork, confidence and professionalism; the importance of doing a job well. Those who devise our curriculum don’t realize the good it does. Budgets are tight and music is regarded as a frill. In fact it is anything but.”
His own in-tray, meanwhile, includes finishing a piece for the Cambridge Singers to record in January. He talks about a “framework of discipline”, but downplays the extraordinary talent it takes to compose his beautiful choral works.
“I like to think that St Cecilia [the patron saint of music] is up in heaven, filling her sack with fairy dust and flying around the earth to look for composers in trouble. When she finds one she feels sorry for, she sprinkles some of that dust and then flies off to help the next one.
“I’ve certainly written music for which she can’t have been anywhere near me. Some pieces turn out better than others – it’s not a process you can control. It’s like turning on a tap when you don’t know if you’re going to get a trickle or a flood – or nothing at all.”
Whether Cecilia visits him or not, however, he still composes most days.
“I go to my little secret composing cottage near my home. Nobody knows about it and I can’t tell you where it is,” he smiles. “I don’t get disturbed there.”
As for his beloved Christmas, he is usually exhausted by the time it arrives. Time to let the shepherds pipe up.
“On Christmas Eve I love to listen to the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s College, Cambridge, or to go to my local cathedral in Ely. Christmas wouldn’t be complete without sitting back and just listening to someone else. All I have to do is enjoy it.”
