Whenever something is made – be it a motorcar or piece of domestic furniture – it comprises a number of individual features, or ‘facets’. A simple table, for example, can end up with several facets: the legs can be turned, drawers made to fit, brass handles added, exotic veneers applied, a hinged mirror placed on top, and so on and so forth. Everything should come together in delightful harmony. One of the reasons I love the harpsichord so much is that the possibility of there being several facets, that can be further extended by the addition of a painting, with the final characteristic of the sound itself providing the crowning ingredient, affords so much pleasure. It is truly the natural bridge between music and art, and when all features are found to be comfortable within the human condition – right down to the choice of temperament – the sensation can be unforgettable.
Places where the music is performed can vary considerably. It might be a simple drawing room, a church, concert hall or right up to a vast opera house. Each of these settings, however, contains basic facets and a common denominator recognisable throughout: the music itself, provided by the performers and their instruments, the walls and ceilings and their decoration, the floors and their coverings and, if present, the windows. The most important ‘facet’, however, following the music, I really do believe should be the lighting. It is almost impossible to avoid the effect that the nature of the lighting has on both you and the place itself. Good lighting can provide a gorgeous environment that blends perfectly with the sounds produced to provide a thoroughly satisfying overall subjective sensation. Bad lighting can be irritating at best and downright intrusive at worst. I am convinced that some people close their eyes during a performance, not only to focus on the sound, but to block out every bit of the lighting!
People know instinctively when they are feeling entirely comfortable with their surroundings when attending a concert. If they are not, either politeness forbids them to complain, or they are subconsciously uneasy about something, but can’t quite figure out what it is. Lighting and its effects are something to which the British as a nation pay practically no attention, for some reason. It might well be a result of general attitudes at home. When out walking at twilight, I cannot help but noticing, from a respectful distance, the interiors of many houses before the curtains are drawn. The big, bright centre light – or even cluster of bright lights – in the living room will help to define the quality of mood of that room and its occupants for the remainder of the evening. No wonder the best pubs employ first-class interior lighting consultants.
So, maybe it’s a national trait not to pay too much attention to lighting. I’ve seen this extended so many times to the places where music is performed that I can’t help feeling that those responsible for the location and its interior would benefit by some sort of course or literature that would help alert them to how influential lighting can be upon an audience. Even establishments that are admired for their tradition and consideration of all that is great and good about Britain can be guilty of neglecting the impact of the lighting contribution and its effect. I went to a concert at Winchester College last June, and it was very well attended, with an impressive number of boys from the school. From the moment I stepped into the auditorium, I had grave misgivings about the lighting. The event was staged in the New Hall (no, not the thousand-year-old variety, but made in the ugly 1960s) and the big, unpleasantly designed ceiling lights ruined the place. It drives me crazy when they pay such great attention to the music, but neglect to take into account the lighting. Another place I’m not terribly happy about – and I don’t blame some people hating me for saying it – is the Handel House Museum. The recital room itself is a wonderful example of how perfectly proportioned are Georgian rooms. However, I attend the harpsichord events fairly regularly and nearly every time, the light used to illuminate the music stand is positioned against the wall, focused not only on the music, but straight into the eyes of those seated nearby. It would be far better were it to be placed elsewhere, so that the wall bears the intensity and not the audience. There is a gallant attempt to provide lighting for the room in general by using a tall, black lamp with reflector that allows the light to rebound off the ceiling, but, invariably, this black pole is positioned slap bang in the centre of the harpsichord bent side, visually splitting the instrument into two. It would provide a much more satisfactory sight were it to be placed well past the tail and so allowing everyone to see this beautiful harpsichord, uninterrupted.
In September last year we had a series of five baroque concerts in St.Clement’s Church, Bournemouth. At first, all the big lights in the ceiling were left on, so that not only were the players bathed in light, but the entire audience, too. Upon asking why this was, I was informed that ‘they like it like that’. During the interval, I did a straw poll and found that, without exception, everyone certainly did not ‘like it like that’. I turned three quarters of the lights out and received not one complaint. The best evening was the last, when we had ‘Vivaldi by Candlelight’. This concept proved to be a big attraction, and the church was pretty well full. In fact, something really funny happened that propelled us back into the eighteenth century and gave us the chance to see how it really must have been then. I was attired in the flowing red robe and tricorn hat of the Red Priest and had to deliver a soliloquy about his life in between the music. There were candles everywhere, but with the addition of soft, personal lights for the music and my script, and about half way through, all the electricity failed. A torch was produced for me to see by, and the musicians brought the candles as close as possible without actually setting fire to the manuscripts. We continued until, as if by some miracle, everything came back on again. We were told by many people afterwards that while the electricity was off, it was the best lighting effect they had ever seen, anywhere!
They really do seem better at understanding the effects of lighting on the continent - the Netherlands and Belgium being my favourites where domestic lighting is concerned. In Holland, particularly, take a dusk-time walk practically anywhere you like, and the interiors are consistently beautifully lit. So proud, in fact, are they of what is happening inside, they don’t even have curtains, but high plants on the window sills – a feature that is better understood when you consider the Calvanist nature of the country and its people: everyone must be seen to be behaving properly; whereas what is going on in those countries where closed curtains are the order of the day doesn’t bear thinking about…
Germany, France, Italy, the Scandinavian countries and many others contain musicians and those interested in music who seem, in general, far more sensitive to the effect lighting has to offer. I’m not saying that it happens all the time - it doesn’t; but they just seem to be more aware of what is required. Even city lighting departments, for example in Italy, are particularly good at lighting pedestrian walkways. In Turin, nearly all the lights are inverted so that, instead of a piercing beam entering your eye from above, the light is bounced off the white-painted, arched ceilings with the effect that the pavement is bathed in sufficient light to see where you’re going, but without being intrusive. It also has the beneficial effect of making everyone look years’ younger. Strangely enough, Italian restaurants, especially those in the country, are normally very brightly lit, and I can never understand why. It might be that most restauranteurs come from Napoli – and they’re more concerned about food than lighting down there. I’m also fond of the multiple spheres along the Promenade des Anglais in Nice on the Côte D’Azur. They’ve managed to adjust the intensity to such a level that they don’t blind you when you look at them face on, yet provide enough of a glow to allow you to see everything around about in a magical sort of way.
At a concert, it makes all the difference if the lighting is set properly. If it is done really well, even surroundings that are rather dull and uninteresting matter little, providing the lighting and music combine well together. A good start is to provide a small light with an unobtrusive shade for each music stand. The cost need not be prohibitive: DIY stores such as B&Q sell them for just a few pounds, and if they are not exactly what is required, they can be adapted with a bit of ingenuity. I really cannot understand why the whole room or hall has to be floodlit when all we’re really interested in is hearing the music. I’ll never forget when Sviatoslav Richter came to perform in London in the early 90s. Notoriously tetchy, he refused point blank to allow the recital to be televised unless all the bright lights were removed. The result was a beautiful, gentle picture that allowed more than enough light to identify the player and surroundings. Why is it always absolutely necessary to see the player in high definition, anyway? When Daniel Barenboim gave the Reith Lectures last year, a commentator at the end of one of them was the great Alfred Brendel. He recounted how someone once said to him,‘I saw your concert, last week’; whereupon Brendel replied, ‘You mean to say you didn’t hear it?’.
When it is necessary to see everything extremely clearly, such as an opera or the ballet, only the lighting for the stage is required - mercifully, everything else, bar emergency signs, is switched off. Under these circumstances, the musicians of the orchestra are perfectly happy to get by with their small, individual lights for the manuscripts. So, when someone tells you that the big, bright lights that drench and ruin the ambience of any setting are required for ‘Health and Safety’ regulations, mention about all the theatres, opera houses and cinemas that function without all that nonsense and see - sorry, hear - what they have to say…