I have had a lovely week at the International Musicians’ Seminar in Prussia Cove. Last September, there were swirling mists and rain. I remember I spent a lot of time taking atmospheric photos of old gates and rocks looming out of the sea mist. This year, by contrast, the weather was fine all week. And there was a harvest moon, which became a talking point every evening. Just before dinner, a huge pink moon would hang just above the coast. After supper, it would have turned silver and risen to hang above the sea, throwing a brilliant swathe of light across the water (see photo). In other years, a torch has been essential for finding one’s way back along the stony paths to the cottages. This year, the moonlight provided plenty of illumination.
It is always very interesting to work with people from other countries and cultures, and from different generations. There are such different expectations about how much to say in rehearsals, and how to say it. There are different ideas about how to work at things, and what kind of work is most productive. Some people want to persevere in rehearsal for hour after hour, while others like to let things settle without saying much. There are different technical standards and artistic approaches, which somehow have to be melded together in the course of a week’s rehearsal. Sometimes the older players think they know best, and sometimes the younger players do. Each has to find a gentle way of putting their ideas across. Despite what may seem like incompatibilities at the start of the week, most groups do manage to find a blend and even an appreciation of one another’s qualities, which makes the performances at the end of a Prussia Cove week some of my favourite performances anywhere – whether I’m playing or listening.
One of the great joys of chamber music is that ages and experiences and inspiration can all be mixed, often leading to unexpected discoveries. So glad that Prussia Cove keeps going!