BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
At 5 years old, Rose Riebl first learnt the keys of the piano.
At 11, she started studying with Australian National Academy of Music then-director Frank Wibaut.
At 14, she was accepted into Vienna’s Universitat Darstellende Kunst Wein.
Now, Rose is back to work her magic with Australian audiences – and you’ll be one of the first to watch. This composer-pianist today launches the world premiere of her video Interlude, right here on CutCommon.
Read the interview, then watch the premiere.
Rose has studied at ANAM and the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, performed in New York and London, and has started to venture into the world of composition for film and television. Here’s what she’s all about.
Rose. First of all, congrats on a beautiful piece of music. How’d the idea come about?
Thanks Steph. I’m never quite sure how musical ideas come about – usually they find me rather than the other way around. I think this one grew out of the single repeated note. When I started this piece, I’d just finished playing the prelude from Bach Partita No.1, which finishes on a B flat; and I just stayed on that note, repeating it until the harmonies and melody sort of emerged of their own accord.
Listening to your work, it’s repetitive, paced with a level of restraint, and has mesmerising sustain. I would sum up your musical approach as sensitive – to our ears, to the instrument, to the composition. Talk us through how you would sum up your approach.
What a lovely thing to say! Thank you. I’d agree that my approach is repetitive; sort of a defining feature of most minimalist, contemporary neoclassical, ambient music. And I guess I feel that restraint is important because it makes the climactic moments more exciting.
I think my approach to playing comes out of many years playing classical music, which requires sensitivity; my approach to writing is much more free – I let my fingers/intuition lead. I’d say it’s instinct and a love of story telling.
What made you want to use these textures and achieve this identifiable ‘sound’? It seems your inspiration may stem from composers such as Pärt and Glass?
Pärt and Glass are definitely inspirations, as is Max Richter, and Nils Frahm. I like how [Frahm] disrupts lyrical melodies with something unexpected; almost aggressive. Of course, having played classical composers for the last couple of decades, they’re inspirations too: Chopin (especially his left-hand melodies), Rachmaninov, Bach, Debussy.
I don’t have a simple answer to what’s behind my writing, or why I want to use the textures I do. I do know that when I write, I’m influenced by memory, landscapes, and feeling – more than trying to achieve a certain ‘sound’. The mood I’m in when I sit down to play, or what feeling I’m trying to evoke, will sort of define the harmonies and textures that emerge. And then I try to develop them to tell a story.
You’ve described your music as “minimalist” and “neoclassical”. What do you think of genre? Does it benefit the musician to identify her or his works with a particular genre, or is this more about grounding the audience?
I’m personally not too interested in labels, but I think you need to have some key words to articulate the sort of music it is, and they’re helpful for a Spotify search.
There’s a big surge of really awesome ambient, minimalist composers and producers, but it’s difficult to fit them all into a tidy genre. There’s a lot of classical- and jazz-inspired acoustic stuff being produced in a really interesting way, and then those same artists collaborating with electronic artists. There’s a great alchemy in sound going on.
There’s a real place for this sort of music – for people to chill out to, sort of take a step back from the madness of the world; but also to feel things, be forced to confront that ache that a track like Familiar (Frahm) or The Departure (Richter) will make you feel.
A lot of contemporary artists are rejecting the title ‘neoclassical’, and I get that – not wanting to be boxed into something. Wanting to keep channels of expression open.
The video for your world premiere is intense.
The idea for this video came about when I was in Indonesia actually, sitting in the dark at a table under a swinging light. Like the music, the image sort of found us, it was initially some footage caught on an iPhone and it grew from there. As the idea developed we both had a sense that the piece and the dance were both about longing, about reaching out for something or someone. The slow motion is a sort of deep-sea impossibility, never quite getting to that place, or that person.
What do you hope listeners will take away from watching your new music?
I don’t have a specific theme or message that I want listeners to take away, but I do want to move people. There’s a great line in a Jeanette Winterson book where she says ‘we’re a lukewarm people’, and I really try and resist that – in life and music. I think sometimes people forget to feel, or it’s easier not to. So I like my music to elicit some kind of emotional response. Sometimes, that’s just rest, or calm; other times, it’s more intense – there’s fury, rage, longing. We all walk around carrying these things, and if music can act as a bridge back to feeling, allowing us access to those dormant parts of our own little universes, then it’s doing what it’s meant to. I think art wants to wake people up.
Any parting words as we buckle down for this world premiere?
I’m excited to share this video, which wouldn’t have been possible without vision of director, Dominic Allen and the stunning performance and choreography of Lilian Grace-Steiner and Zac Jones. I feel very lucky to be able to create the art that I do, and I hope this video takes you somewhere.
WATCH! This is the world premiere of the video Interlude by Rose Riebl.
Video credits: Rose Riebl (composer), Dominic Allen (director), Jamieson Pearce (editor), Fergus Hally (colourist), Lilian Grace-Steiner (dancer 1), Zac Jones (dancer 2).
Images supplied.
