Welcome to Con Fuoco – CutCommon’s interview series with emerging artists in Australia.
Louis Nicoll is a Melbourne classical pianist studying his third year of a Bachelor of Music at the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music. Louis started playing piano at a young age – and was probably pretty good – but he stopped playing at the age of 12 to make more time for video games. When he was 15 he started piano again and won the 2012 Williamstown High School Performance Award and the Williamstown High Instrumental Music award. In 2015, as he was gradually phasing out video games, he was principal piano for the Melbourne Youth Orchestra and a contestant in 3MBS’ The Talent competition. The following year, he was the sole recipient of the Bill Burrell Memorial Scholarship. When he isn’t practising, Louis likes to read, teach, walk his dog, and worry about not practising.
Louis was awarded the Melbourne Youth Music Perpetual Trophy in August. He’ll perform with the Melbourne Youth Orchestra (formerly MYM) on September 11.
Your all time favourite piece of music?
There are many pieces of music I like, and I change my mind all the time, but I’ve loved Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring for many years. It’s an exhilarating and enthralling piece of music, and to me it offers a window into understanding and listening to his later works, and many other works of the 20th Century. The more I listen to it and see it performed, the more my opinion of it changes. It just seems to get more and more interesting the more I think about it.
Most memorable concert experience?
A very long time ago, one of the first ‘classical’ concerts I ever saw featured Sibelius’ incidental music to Shakespeare’s The Tempest, played at the Melbourne Recital Centre. I remember feeling for the first time genuinely stunned and impressed with the way the music unfolded, and the thrill of seeing the music made live right in front of me. I also remember after about half an hour I felt bored and wanted to go home and play video games or something—my attention span is thankfully a little longer now.
Biggest fear when performing?
In summer, or hot weather, I’ve been known to get unexpected blood noses. I live in constant fear of a performance on a hot night ending abruptly in a nasal bloodbath, and am plagued by visions of a gorily decorated Steinway & Sons concert grand after an uncontrollable bout of adenoidal ichor. A memory lapse is also scary, but is at least preventable.
Best piece of musical advice you’ve received?
I’ve been given many great pieces of advice by many people. My teacher, Benjamin Martin, has always offered me great insights. There are so many things he’s said over our time together that have shaped and defined the way I think about performing and playing music that I find it very difficult to talk about any one piece of advice I’ve been given. I can’t really imagine how I thought about whatever I was being advised on, before I’d received the advice!
I often remind myself of what I was told when I was worrying about preparing for a university exam— Ben told me that if you can make an examiner sit up in their chair, cock an eyebrow, or think ‘huh, I liked that’, then you’ve succeeded and done the best you can do. That isn’t about being controversial, it’s just about communication and sharing something special with someone. That’s something that I always try to remind myself: performing is about communication first, and getting notes right second.
How do you psych yourself up for practice on a lazy day?
Practising is often difficult. When I began to take piano and practising more seriously, I started having a lot of conversations about ‘effective’ and ‘ineffective’ practice – the importance of taking breaks, challenging yourself, creatively exploring your repertoire and so on. This kind of discussion and reflection on practice, while of course very important, would often leave me feeling inadequate about my practising techniques and habits. I often found myself guilty of practising but not really thinking or engaging with what I was doing. However, I’ve come to realise that while good practice is better than bad practice, bad practice is better than no practice. If you’re in the middle of a ‘lazy day’, and you believe your practice is going nowhere, and you believe that you’d be better off doing something else, realise that practice works whether or not you believe it’s working. I think it’s crucial to interrogate your practice only so far, and that sometimes (particularly for me at about 3 or 4 o’clock) it may just be better to think less and practice more.
Most embarrassing moment on stage?
I played a Liszt etude at a concert once and invited a few of my friends to see it. I think I wasn’t really ready to perform it – I was very nervous and made a lot of mistakes. I guess I’m supposed to say more about it or make at least an interesting narrative about the experience, but because it’s embarrassing I’d rather not think about it, and pretend it never happened.
What’s your favourite post-gig activity?
Think about what went wrong.
What are you most proud of in your musical career so far?
Performing Liszt’s Totentanz at Deakin Edge with the Percy Grainger Youth Orchestra was wonderful. Many of my friends and family attended and I was so lucky and pleased to be able to share a piece that I loved with all my favourite people. It felt like my birthday, except not in November.
What do you love about making music?
Different things, and it changes all the time! I think when I was younger, I just liked how it felt to play the piano, and how satisfying it was to learn and play a piece well. I still derive that enjoyment, but as I got older I connected with and felt inspired by the emotional content of the music I was playing, or with what I believed to be the ‘meaning’ of the work. Now, I always try to communicate what I believe is the meaning and the content of the piece to an audience. I know it’s cheesy, but I think if I can impress or move even one member of the audience, then I feel I’ve succeeded. I love making music the most when an audience member approaches me and says that they just really enjoyed it, and I can tell they mean it. Similarly, if a friend or supporter messages me after I play something, even weeks after, and just asks what the piece was because they want to listen to it again, I know they’re thinking about it or my performance and that means a great deal to me.
What’s your ultimate goal?
I guess it’s something I’m still figuring out. Right now, I think I want to share the joy and pleasure I get out of music with other people, and that can be in performing or teaching or just talking about it. I’d also like a long and fulfilling career without even one public blood nose to my name.
Follow Louis at www.facebook.com/louisnicollpiano
