As founder of the BBC New Generation Artists scheme, Adam Gatehouse has an unequalled record of spotting young, talented artists, of whom a surprisingly high percentage go on to achieve international stardom. Since 2015, jointly with Paul Lewis, Gatehouse has been the joint artistic director of the Leeds International Piano Competition. He talks to Bachtrack about talent spotting in general, and the Leeds Competition in particular.
DK: When you see a young musician for the first time, what are the things that are most likely to strike you?
First and foremost, I'm looking for someone who speaks to me, who has something to communicate and has a passion to communicate it, someone that will make me sit up and listen. There's incredible talent out there and the technical level is extraordinarily high, but I still think those people who have a hotline to the listener are a rare commodity. In some ways, you can sense them very quickly when you start listening – not always, but often. You also hear it in a hall when there's a special sort of intense silence created around a performance, when an audience is sitting up and thinking “My goodness, there's something here that I really want”.
Many people try to spot talent but don't do it reliably. Do you think you are particularly in tune with general listeners?
I go by my own instincts, so I can't really say whether I'm in tune with the general listeners. I was and still am a conductor but I spent 17 years of my career as a performing musician. so I've seen a lot of performers from the inside as well as the outside. I clearly remember the first time that I really took cognisance of what a great soloist was: I was about 21 or 22, I was conducting an orchestra and we had the great clarinettist Gervase de Peyer. Standing beside him, I could not believe the incredible power and the projection that this man had and that made me realise "my goodness, yes, that is what you need to project to an audience". But I just hope that what speaks to me will speak to others as well.
At what age is it possible to be sure that you're seeing real star quality and not just a precocious kid?
Again, it's difficult to make hard and fast rules. Generally, in my experience, violinists come out younger than virtually anybody else, maybe pianists as well. One of the first New Generation Artists I took was Lisa Batiashvili and she was only 17. Normally, I would not even have considered taking anybody that young for that scheme, purely because at 17, they haven't had enough performing experience and repertoire under their belt to cope with the demands of the scheme: we gave them a lot of opportunities to perform so they needed a lot of repertoire. But Lisa was of such extraordinary quality. I first heard her when I was at home cooking: I turned the radio on and it was the slow movement of the Beethoven Violin Concerto. When the soloist came in, I said to myself "Who is this? This is a real old soul"; I imagined somebody in their late 60s or 70s, I had to stop everything and listen right to the end. When they announced that this was a 17 year old making her UK debut, I was just flabbergasted. But she was an exception. Of course, there are incredible people who come out very young, the Barenboims and the Menuhins and all of them, but generally speaking, I would say that there's no harm, however brilliant and talented they are, in waiting before they are catapulted into that fast lane. Because unless you're a very rare human being, particularly in the business as it is now, you're not really ready for it at sixteen, you've just not had the life experience you or the knocks. Actually, with the Leeds competition, we've raised the lower age to 20, just because Paul Lewis and I believe that if they're good at 17, they'll be better three years later.
Most conservatoire students, it seems to us, think they should wake up the morning, practice, eat occasionally, go to sleep and repeat. It worries us that this schema doesn't leave any space or time for gaining those life experiences...
You're absolutely right. To me, those musicians who enter that upper realm of truly inspirational performers are people who have a broader basis on which to draw from their life experiences. Music is about life, those composers put all of life into their work, and if you don't experience any of that, falling in love, sorrows, betrayals and the rest of life's baggage, you're cutting yourself off from a whole part of the very thing you're putting across.
When you were running New Generation Artists, or at the Borletti-Buitoni Trust today, talk us through the process of how you assess people to take on?
Once New Generation Artists got going, people came to me, but at the beginning, I went to a lot of concerts, kept my ear very close to the ground and consulted widely as to who the talent was. I always went to hear musicians live before I would consider taking them, preferably in concert in front of an audience. Occasionally, that wasn't possible, in which case I would invite them to come and play for me. The criteria were those I spelt out at the beginning of this discussion: the music has to speak to me. Sometimes it takes a while: I heard Pavel Haas Quartet at an early stage in their career and they had talent, lots of zest and go, but were pretty rough. Two years later, it was a quite different experience and then, I took them on. Another occasion was probably the only time when I could almost say I took somebody before I even heard them play a note: Alexei Ogrintchuk, one of the greatest oboists I've ever heard, came to me to audition at BBC Maida Vale Studios. As I watched him get out and prepare his instrument, he was standing with his legs slightly apart, like an absolute rock, he held his insturment in front of him, he took an incredible deep breath and as he approached the instrument to his mouth, I knew that it was going to be gold that came out. Within two or three bars, I knew that this was absolutely extraordinary. But that's the exception.
To achieve some level of fairness, are you a real musical omnivore? There are so many styles, repertoires, approaches that you're going to be comparing apples with oranges all the time, so what happens if you don't like oranges?
That's absolutely true, and inevitably, there are going to be certain instruments that are going to be at a disadavantage. Just today, I was listening to a percussionist. Now, the percussionist is very good, I can tell that. But the repertoire is dire, which makes it very difficult to make an absolute judgment. On the other hand, when you're faced with a Colin Currie, as we were with the New Generation Artists, there's just no doubt in my mind. Even though Colin still played dire repertoire, he's so amazingly good that you can't help but be dazzled by it. I'm as omnivorous as I can be, but inevitably there are areas where I'm weaker than others, I can't deny that.
I'm interested in the difference between assessing achievement and looking for the signs of what they can become in future...
In the last Leeds Competition, there were two 17 year old pianists, from Taiwan and Korea, who clearly had talent. One of them did a Mozart sonata that was absolutely lovely. But then it came to something that needed more maturity, experience, thought, like a late Beethoven: that was beyond their capabilities and experience. I don't blame them: at 17, nobody can plumb the depths of Op.109 or Op.111, and that's where one's antennae need to be very well tuned to see what is and isn't there and make a swift judgment as to whether you think that what's missing now could be there in future.
It's a difficult process, and I would be the last person to flatly say “X will not have those qualities in four years”. I have seen people who, quite honestly, I found extremely boring; four years later, they really made me sit up and I took them on the scheme.
Have you ever found out why that happened - did something happen to them?
I never asked that, it's an interesting point. What I can say is that it nearly always had to do with communication and projection – it was to do with a musician who had a lot to say but didn't really know how to put it out to the audience. Particularly the singers could perform for the front row instead of aiming for the back of the hall. I remember one singer who looked down, rather stiffly; three years later, I was sitting near the back and he was standing up, looking out and communicating – a totally different experience.
Let's move on to competitions and the Leeds in particular. What do you think makes a great competition?
Ha! If I knew that! Listen, you're speaking to somebody who has never actually entered a competition, although I have been on the juries of several. Paul Lewis and I both have a healthy respect for competitions but also a healthy suspicion of them: they are one way for a career to be furthered, usually quite a fast track way, but they're nowhere near absolutely reliable. Having said that, Paul and I do think that we could make the Leeds into something more meaningful for both competitors and audiences, and also a little more humane for the competitors. Because it can be a pretty rough experience, particularly for younger ones who are not used to that sort of high competitive spirit.