Redefining classical music conventions

Fellow innovators GéNIA and Gabriel Prokofiev share a classical heritage

While cynics repeat their gloomy predictions about the future of the “classical music industry”, a new generation of artists is already redefining the concept. Among them is 35-year-old Gabriel Prokofiev, grandson of the great Russian composer Sergei. London-based, Prokofiev is as literate in garage and hip-hop music as he is in contemporary classical – an eclecticism neatly summed up by the Concerto for Turntables and Orchestra he wrote for fêted turntablist DJ Yoda. Such varied tastes increasingly reflect those of many young people, and Prokofiev’s work as a composer, producer and founder of the Nonclassical label has capitalised on this interest to develop a fresh approach to the presentation, dissemination and consumption of classical music.

Prokofiev’s latest compositions can be heard on a new recording titled Piano Book 1, which comprises 11 short pieces he wrote for a young Russian-born pianist known as GéNIA. The collaboration has a faintly nostalgic air to it: GéNIA is the great-great-niece of the celebrated pianist Vladimir Horowitz, who premiered many of Sergei Prokofiev’s piano works, and Prokofiev admits that his compositions have been inspired by historic precedent. “There’s this whole tradition of short piano pieces – Chopin’s Preludes, Bach’s Preludes and Fugues, Debussy’s Preludes, Scriabin did some – and my grandfather wrote a brilliant collection called Visions fugitives,” he explains. “Now everyone downloads music, a few years ago they bought CDs, but go back 100 years and everyone bought sheets or books of piano music – Cole Porter, or the new Satie, or whatever.”

In fact, the whole project sounds strangely old-school, especially when Prokofiev enthuses about the particular Steinway model that GéNIA chose for the recording, and explains that the digital material was “played back through old reel-to-reel tape machines to warm up the sound”. But if the content and, to some extent, the production processes are traditional, the recording is in keeping with the innovative ethos of Nonclassical. Prokofiev founded the label in 2003 when he was looking to release a recording of his first string quartet. “I played in a band for many years, so I was used to this culture you find in pop music where anything you write, you record and try to release,” he explains. “But in the classical world this doesn’t happen and I didn’t have enough of a profile to get noticed, so I realised I had to do it myself.”

Since then Prokofiev has recorded two string quartets, both performed by The Elysian Quartet, among other compositions. In each recording, the original piece is followed by a corresponding set of electronic remixes, like a distorted mirror image. This might be a nervy hip-hop take on one movement by the composer himself or an ingenious splicing of two movements by a DJ or pop artist. Many such pairings are awkwardly contrived, but these collaborations have evolved organically: Emma Smith, violinist in The Elysian Quartet, has known a couple of the guys from electropop group Hot Chip since school so invited them to write a remix, and composer John Matthias had already worked with Radiohead when he asked Thom Yorke to remix part of his Cortical Songs.

Nonclassical has released just five recordings to date but this year they have 12 more planned, including a compilation of work by Tansy Davies and a performance by the up-and-coming Mercury Quartet. “We’re in a unique position,” Prokofiev says. “There doesn’t seem to be another label doing exactly what we’re doing.”

The recording label is only half the story, however; a now regular club night at The Horse and Groom pub in London’s East End is the other. This offers a rare chance for live exposure for up-and-coming composers and musicians; while singer-songwriters can take part in open-mic sessions around the country, classical artists really struggle to get heard.

Like the label itself, the Nonclassical club nights grew out of Prokofiev’s own experiences: his first string quartet was premiered at an obscure concert hall on a Sunday afternoon and he managed to persuade just one friend to come along. “About 60 per cent of the audience was white-haired and, while I’m happy that older people enjoy new music, I thought, ‘I’m a young composer who is writing music that is relevant to me and my age group,’ ” he explains, “and it made me realise that performances have got to fit in with young people’s lifestyle.”

Since then Prokofiev has arranged classical nights in a number of unlikely London venues, not simply to provide a platform for contemporary compositions but, as GéNIA recalls, to give historic pieces a fresh airing: “I remember saying to him, ‘What? Scarlatti sonatas at Cargo club?’ but it was the right choice.”

Prokofiev has also questioned the rigidity of start times. In the UK, at least, most music events begin promptly at 7:30pm and heaven forbid if you arrive a few minutes late. One of the most memorable concerts I’ve ever been to was a Rachmaninov piano recital at the tiny Teatro Goldoni in Florence that lasted four hours but was punctuated by frequent and clearly timed intervals – the idea being that you drifted off for a plate of spaghetti in the nearby Piazza Santo Spirito when hunger got the better of you, and rejoined the concert (or not) at your leisure. “I don’t know how a 7:30pm start fits into people’s life anymore,” Prokofiev says. “You’ve just got back from the office and then you’ve got to rush off to a concert with your stomach rumbling ... Nonclassical nights start at 9pm.”

Earlier this month Alex Ross, music critic for The New Yorker and author of the bestselling book The Rest is Noise, delivered the Royal Philharmonic Society’s annual lecture, called “Hold Your Applause: Inventing and Reinventing the Classical Concert”. Addressing the reasons why younger people are proving reluctant concert-goers, Ross explored the implications of modern concert hall etiquette. While many of these habits – dress codes, a particular platform manner, circumscribed applause – can be traced back to developments in the Romantic era, Ross explained, they were largely cemented by the social concerns of bourgeois audiences around the turn of the 20th century. “The underlying message of the protocol is, in essence, ‘Curb your enthusiasm. Don’t get too excited.’ Should we be surprised that people aren’t quite as excited about classical music as they used to be?”

Prokofiev is by no means alone in challenging these conventions – it’s a growing phenomenon. Last summer saw the launch of Limelight classical music nights at the 100 Club on Oxford Street, a venue better known for its punk heritage; this January the Roundhouse presented Reverb, a classical series which programmed Beethoven alongside an a cappella take on Pink Floyd; meanwhile, a “pub opera” production of La bohème at The Cock Tavern has enjoyed such success that it is transferring to the West End in July.

Amid all this experimentation some commentators have stressed the importance of sensitivity. The powerful effects of Bach’s Passions, for example, would be completely undone by chatter and the chink of beer bottles (though his delightful Kaffekantate, in which the soprano rhapsodises about “how sweet coffee tastes! / Lovelier than a thousand kisses ... ” could go down a storm in Starbucks). Similarly, it would be a brave impresario that presented Sylvano Bussotti’s outrageous chamber opera, La passion selon Sade, The Passion According to Sade, in a church. But this is precisely Prokofiev’s point: stiff concert hall settings are not necessarily sensitive to the texture and temperament of contemporary classical music, and this perhaps partly explains why this genre has become a bête noire for so many people.

“If music comes out of the same world that people live in they will relate to it. I think there’s been a real underestimation of what audiences can deal with but if you’re not used to this music you need to be brought in out of the cold,” Prokofiev argues. It’s for this reason that Nonclassical club nights start with a warm-up act – a convention that has long been de rigueur at pop and rock gigs, jazz concerts and comedy nights – so that rather than thrusting unfamiliar music upon an audience they are eased into the listening experience. “The idea of a DJ is that there’s background music that uses the sound of classical contemporary music, primarily through remixes, to get people in the zone,” he explains, “so that by the time the performers come out the audience are warmed up and have a real sense of anticipation.”

The result is an enhanced sense of communion between audiences and performers, as GéNIA explains. “I feel incredibly satisfied when I see how pleasantly surprised the audience are, and how open and expressive they are in their response; it’s great to see the same people coming back.”

“You need a dialogue between composers and audience for music to actually develop,” Prokofiev says. “It’s a two-way thing.” Here’s hoping that the work of Nonclassical, Limelight and others driving the growing momentum of this wider trend represents a rewarding and sustainable future for classical music – as opposed to its valiant swansong.

‘Piano Book 1’ is released on May 10. GéNIA plays at Nonclassical club nights on April 8 and the first Thursday of every month thereafter at The Horse and Groom, London; www.nonclassical.co.uk

The next Limelight event takes place at the 100 Club, London, on April 6; www.londonlimelight.co.uk

‘La bohème’ continues at The Cock Tavern, London, until May 15 and transfers to the Soho Theatre on July 27; www.cocktaverntheatre.com