BY NICKY GLUCH
I was 19 and heading overseas to study maths and philosophy. But everywhere I went, I seemed to be drawn to music. Whether it was watching Avi Avital perform in the rain in Berlin, or trekking out in the heat to see a chamber concert in Jerusalem, I was like a bird following a trail of musical breadcrumbs.
I had spent seven months abroad, and towards the end I ended up living next to a music centre. The crowds of people arriving for the weekly concerts made me question whether I had given up too soon on my dream career: to be a conductor.
I returned to Sydney and set about trying to find out how one does just that: become a conductor. I imagined something orderly, a set course in which one could enrol (and indeed, for the fortunate few, there’s a masters degree at the city conservatorium) but that wasn’t to be my path. Rather, I found myself following another trail of breadcrumbs.
This trail led me to a granny flat in Dover Heights. There, my teacher taught me the basics of beat patterns, stance and score preparation. Whilst in Waverley, I worked with a local choir. And it was wonderful but after a year it was time to spread my wings. That was when I discovered the world of the conducting workshop, the first of which took me to Melbourne in the summer of 2016.
In the 40-degree heat, I took the tram from St Kilda to the City to immerse myself in a world of Beethoven and Stravinsky. A month later, I rugged up to walk across London’s wintry streets and learn the art of ballet conducting (or as much as you can in one weekend). Unlike the birds, in summer, us Aussies fly north.
I began to see that each teacher had his or her own methods to teach us a common vocabulary. I loved learning to refine gesture to affect sound, to find a way to express what makes something music rather than just notes on the page.
For a few days or a few weeks, we become allies
Hence, in July, my trail took me to the tropical clime of Miami Shores. The woman at check-in was flabbergasted at how much my roller bag weighed. ‘What yo’ got in there, bricks?’ she asked. ‘No – music,’ I replied, explaining to her that I was the musician without an instrument.
At the Miami Music Festival, I met a variety of minds: analysts and interpreters, the studious and natural talents. I learnt as much from my peers as I did the tutors. But it was a learning that took place outside the classroom. It was in conversation at breakfast, swimming down at the beach, sharing a beer. And it’s this camaraderie that makes conducting workshops addictive. We are taken from our isolated worlds and thrust into companionship, pushing ourselves to learn and working towards a common goal. Of course, in the real world, we’d be competing against each other. But for a few days or a few weeks, we become allies.
My breadcrumb trail has recently taken me to Berlin; called, as I was, by the opportunity to learn from a pedagogical great. There, I had my first experience working with a professional orchestra, and it was exhilarating. At the end of the week, we were given the privilege of conducting the Berlin Sinfonietta in concert.
Now, at the start of a new year, and back in Sydney, I am waiting to see where the path will lead.
This bird is hungry.
About the writer
Nicky Gluch left the world of medicine for the one thing she loved more: music. Following undergraduate studies at the University of New South Wales, she joined the Sydney Conservatorium and in 2015 completed a Graduate Diploma in Baroque Flute. Now a masters student, Nicky wishes to pursue a career in conducting. To this end, she has learnt privately from Julia de Plater and attended several conducting workshops, studying with Luke Dollman in Australia and Andrea Quinn and Colin Metters overseas. In 2016, Nicky was the Assistant Conductor for Rockdale Opera’s production of The Bartered Bride following a year as Assistant Conductor with the Eastern Sydney Chamber Choir. Nicky is also a volunteer at Fine Music 102.5, for whom she presents weekly programs and writes monthly articles.
Portrait supplied. Featured image: Leosia Niezgodka/Flickr BY CC2.0.
