Ways to combat performance anxiety:

1. Visualize your performance
2. Put the moment into perspective
3. Try playing cold turkey
4. Wear yourself out first (running up a flight of stairs before playing does this perfectly)
5. Tape yourself
6. Have others listen
7. Deep breaths
8. Affirmation
9. Stay hydrated

• Practice technique and success are directly correlated to your nerves.
• Pick your goals, and make them attainable.
• Measure your success yourself.

The operatic version of Beaumarchais’ Le mariage de Figaro may have been a timely notion of Mozart’s own. Although the play was banned from the Viennese stage, it was available in print and Paisiello’s opera on the earlier play, Le barbier de Séville, had triumphed in Vienna in 1783 (and all over Europe). Mozart evidently studied Paisiello’s handling of the same personalities and included deliberate references to it (see Heartz 1987; see also Barbiere di siviglia, il (i)). Composition began late in 1785 and the opera may have been drafted in only six weeks. After some opposition attributed to the Italians, and (if Da Ponte is to be believed) after the librettist had overcome the emperor’s objections, it was produced in May with an outstanding cast whose character and skills, as well as their performance in Paisiello’s Barbiere, contributed to its conception: Francesco Benucci (Figaro), Nancy Storace (Susanna), Luisa Laschi (Countess), Stefano Mandini (Count), Dorotea Bussani (Cherubino), Maria Mandini (Marcellina), Francesco Bussani (Bartolo and Antonio), Michael Kelly, who discussed the event in his reminiscences (Basilio and Curzio), and Anna Gottlieb (Barbarina). Mozart may have expected Storace to sing the Countess; he rearranged the Act 2 trio and other passages so that Susanna took the upper line.

Contrary to what is often stated, Figaro was generally liked, as is indicated by the emperor’s ban on excessive encores (only arias were to be repeated). There were, however, only nine performances in 1786; the Viennese preferred other works, such as Marti­n y Soler’s Una cosa rara. Figaro was next given in Prague, where according to Mozart’s report (letter of 15 January 1787) it created a furore and led to the commission for Don Giovanni. The successful Vienna revival (26 performances in 1789) preceded the commission for Cosi fan tutte: Susanna was confirmed as the prima donna’s role when Mozart wrote two new arias for Adriana Ferrarese del Bene, Da Ponte’s mistress and the first Fiordiligi.

By this time Figaro had received isolated performances in Italy (Acts 1 and 2, the rest composed by Angelo Tarchi, Monza, autumn 1787; Florence, spring 1788), and had been translated into German for performances in Prague (June 1787), Donaueschingen (1787), Leipzig, Graz and Frankfurt (1788), followed by other German centres over the next few years. These performances used spoken dialogue, as did the first performance in France (Paris Opéra, 1793, using Beaumarchais). Many productions were given in French-speaking centres during the 19th century. Other premières included Amsterdam (1794, in German); Madrid (1802, in Spanish); Budapest (1812, in German); London (1812, in Italian, following interpolations of numbers into other operas by Storace and Benucci; 1819, in English, reduced to three acts and arranged by Bishop); and New York (1824, in English, and 1858, in Italian). Numerous translations have been used during the 19th and 20th centuries. Figaro is now Mozart’s most popular opera, displacing Don Giovanni. No major company lets many years elapse without presenting it; Glyndebourne opened with it in 1934.

In production, the vein of rococo nostalgia which inspired its epigone, Der Rosenkavalier, was displaced by greater realism by Visconti (1963, Rome) and Hall (1973, Glyndebourne); it is now customary to emphasize the socio-political tensions of Beaumarchais which Da Ponte had necessarily suppressed.

In Il barbiere Almaviva wooed Bartolo’s ward Rosina with the aid of Figaro, now his valet. He has also, despite his Don Juanesque tendencies, abolished the droit de Seigneur whereby he had the right to deflower every bride among his feudal dependants.

For the overture Mozart abandoned a planned middle section, leaving an electrifying sonata without development which perfectly sets the scene for the ‘Crazy Day’.

Act 1 An antechamber The pacing motif and lyrical response in the opening duet (‘Cinque, dieci’) belong respectively to Figaro, who is measuring the room, and Susanna, who is trying on a new hat. She finally entices him from his work to admire her, and to sing her motif, suggesting that she may prove to be the stronger personality. Figaro tells her the Count has offered them this room, but she reacts with alarm. In the ensuing duet (‘Se a caso madama’) she mocks Figaro’s imitation of the high and low bells of Count and Countess: the convenience of answering them will also make it easy for the Count to visit Susanna when she is alone. Figaro’s confidence is shaken, but if the Count wants to dance, it is he, Figaro, who will call the tune (cavatina, ‘Se vuol ballare’), first offering a minuet, then a Presto contredanse.

Figaro has promised to marry Marcellina if he cannot repay money he owes her. By helping her Bartolo will avenge himself on Figaro (who thwarted his plans to marry Rosina in Il barbiere) and rid himself of an embarrassment (Marcellina). His exit aria (‘La vendetta’) has a full orchestra with trumpets, in the opera’s principal key, D major. His vaunted legal knowledge brings formal counterpoint (and a phrase from Lo sposo deluso), but his fury also vents itself in comically undignified patter. Susanna finds Marcellina, and hustles her out, the music poised, the exchange of compliments venomous (duettino, ‘Via resti servito’). Cherubino confides in Susanna. In a lyrical arch of melody over a sensuously muted accompaniment, he impulsively babbles of his love for all women (‘Non so pii¹’), an enchanting musical image of adolescence. The Count is heard; Susanna hides Cherubino behind a chair. Basilio’s voice interrupts the Count’s amorous proposals; while he too hides behind the chair, Cherubino nips on to it and Susanna covers him with a dress. Basilio’s malicious (but accurate) observation that Cherubino adores the Countess rouses the Count. Gruffly, in an ascending line, he demands an explanation (trio, ‘Cosa sento!’); Basilio, his motif unctuously descending, disclaims knowledge; Susanna, turning to the minor dominant, threatens to faint. The men officiously come to her aid (a new, ardent motif with a chromatic cadence). The Count describes his discovery of Cherubino in Barbarina’s room, hidden under a cloth … at which he is again revealed, to the Count’s self-righteous indignation, Basilio’s delight and Susanna’s horror. Sonata form perfectly matches the action, the recapitulation fraught with irony (or, from Basilio, sarcasm). Figaro ushers in a rustic chorus praising the Count’s magnanimity in renouncing his extra-marital right, but the Count refuses to be trapped into marrying the couple then and there, and banishes Cherubino with an officer’s commission. While apparently sending him on his way to a bold march rhythm (‘Non pii¹ andrai’: no more frolicking and flirting; he is off to death or glory), Figaro detains the page for purposes of his own.

Act 2 The Countess’s chamber In an achingly tender Larghetto, sharing clarinet-based instrumentation with ‘Non so pii¹’, the neglected Countess prays to the god of love to restore her husband’s affections (cavatina, ‘Porgi, Amor’). But she listens eagerly to Susanna and Figaro’s plotting (Figaro leaves to a snatch of ‘Se vuol ballare’). Cherubino is to be dressed as a girl, take Susanna’s place, and compromise the Count. His ardour is formalized, in a song of his own composition, sung to Susanna’s ‘guitar’ accompaniment, but it breaks into recondite modulations before the reprise; Mozart miraculously suggests, but evades, the clumsiness of a tyro (canzona, ‘Voi che sapete’). Susanna tries to dress him but he keeps turning his gaze towards the Countess (‘Venite, inginocchiatevi’: an action aria replaced in 1789 by the strophic ‘Un moto di gioia’). Alone with the Countess, Cherubino is close to winning her heart when the Count demands admittance: he has returned precipitately from the hunt because of an anonymous letter (part of Figaro’s ill-laid plot). In confusion the Countess thrusts Cherubino into her closet; the Count asks questions; Susanna enters unseen. The Countess says Susanna is in the closet. The Count’s jealous fury, his wife’s terror and Susanna’s anxious assessment of the situation again outline a sonata form, although the action does not advance (trio, ‘Susanna, or via sortite’). When the Count leaves (to fetch tools to break down the door), taking the Countess, Susanna thrusts Cherubino through the window (duettino, ‘Aprite, presto aprite’) and enters the closet.

Mozart’s most consummate comic finale begins by resuming the fury and anxiety of the trio (E-flat, ‘Ecci omai, garzon malnato’). The Countess confesses that Cherubino is in the closet but protests his innocence; the Count is ready to kill. But it is Susanna who emerges, to a simple minuet which mocks the nobles’ consternation. Explanations and further confusion occupy an extended Allegro which deploys its thematic wealth with marvellous inventiveness. Although puzzled, the Count has to ask forgiveness. At the single abrupt key-change of the finale (B-flat to G) Figaro enters, again asking for an immediate wedding. Recovering his sang-froid (C major, gavotte tempo), the Count poses questions about the anonymous letter; Figaro prevaricates. Antonio charges in to complain of damage to his garden caused by the page’s precipitate exit (Allegro molto, F major). The Count senses more chicanery; Figaro claims it was he who jumped. The tempo slows to Andante (in B-flat) and with measured calm the Count questions Figaro about a paper the page has dropped: the music emerges from an harmonic cloud to a shining recapitulation as Figaro (prompted by the women) identifies it as the page’s commission, left with him (he claims) to be sealed. The Count is baffled, but revives when Marcellina, Basilio and Bartolo rush in demanding justice (E-flat).

Act 3 A large room decorated for the marriage-feast The Countess urges Susanna to make an assignation with the Count; they will exchange cloaks and compromise him with his own wife. Susanna approaches him, explains her previous reticence as delicacy, and offers to meet him that evening. In a rare outburst in the minor (duet, ‘Crudel! perchè finora’) the Count reproaches her; changing to major, he sings of his coming happiness with exuberant syncopation. She tries to join in but trips over the right replies (‘Yes’ for ‘No’, etc.), correcting herself at a melodic high point. Leaving, she encounters Figaro and carelessly shows her satisfaction: ‘without a lawyer we’ve won the case’. The Count is again suspicious and angry (the first obbligato recitative and aria, ‘Vedri², mentre io sospiro’). Must he sigh in vain while a mere servant wins the prize? The martial orchestration and key, even the contrapuntal language, recall Bartolo’s aria, but the music snarls with aristocratic jealousy, not pompous self-importance: within the social structure of this opera it is a truly menacing utterance.

At the trial of Marcellina’s case Curzio is finding for the plaintiff. Figaro protests that he cannot marry Marcellina without his parents’ consent. It emerges that he is the lost son of Marcellina, and Bartolo reluctantly admits paternity. Marcellina embraces Figaro (sextet, ‘Riconosci in questo amplesso’) and the three express delight while the Count and Curzio mutter their annoyance. Susanna misinterprets the embrace and boxes Figaro’s ears. The comical explanation leads to a quartet of satisfaction against which Curzio and the Count fling out a defiant phrase of anger.

The Countess, waiting for Susanna, muses on the past and wonders if there is hope for her marriage. This set piece (obbligato recitative and rondi², ‘Dove sono i bei momenti’, which, it has been argued, may have been intended to precede the previous scene) shows her as profoundly tender yet impulsive; it reaches a glowing a” at the climax. Antonio tells the Count that Cherubino is still in the castle. The Countess dictates a letter from Susanna to the Count confirming their rendezvous (duettino, ‘Che soave zeffiretto’), their voices mingling in an expression of the love they feel, each for her own; the honeyed music shows none of the deviousness of their intentions.

During a choral presentation to the Countess, Cherubino is unmasked, but allowed to stay for the wedding as he (and Barbarina) are tempted to make revelations embarrassing to the Count. During the finale, the necessary action is cunningly woven into the sequence of dances. During the march the two couples (Marcellina and Bartolo have decided to regularize their union) are presented to the Count and Countess. The bridesmaids’ duet and chorus (contredanse) precede the alluring fandango, during which Susanna slips the letter to the Count, sealed with a pin (to be returned as a sign of agreement); Figaro notices with amusement that the Count has pricked himself.

Act 4 The garden, at night; pavilions on either side Barbarina, the go-between, has lost the pin (a mock- tragic cavatina, ‘L’ho perduta’). Figaro, hearing her tale, concludes that Susanna is unfaithful; an abyss seems to open beneath him. Marcellina is inclined to warn Susanna; she must have a good reason for meeting the Count, and women should stick together (‘Il capro e la capretta’). Barbarina is preparing to meet Cherubino in a pavilion. Figaro summons Basilio and Bartolo to witness the betrayal. Basilio moralizes about the wisdom of not resisting one’s superiors, adding a tale of his own hot youth (‘In quegl’anni’). Figaro’s monologue (obbligato recitative and aria, ‘Aprite un po’ quegl’occhi’) uses raw musical gestures to convey the terrors, for a clever but emotionally simple man, of sexual betrayal. Disconnected phrases witness to his anxiety, and horn fanfares mock him without mercy. He overhears but cannot see Susanna, who is disguised as the Countess (obbligato recitative and aria, ‘Deh vieni, non tardar’). The floating line and titillating woodwind cadences with which Susanna confides her amorous longing to the night perfectly capture the blended love and mischief with which she deliberately rouses Figaro’s passion (in 1789 Mozart replaced the aria with the elaborate rondi², ‘Al desio’).

From now on all is confusion; the characters mistake identities and blunder into each other in the dark, receiving kisses and blows intended for others, before nearly all of them end up in the pavilions (finale). Cherubino begs Susanna (actually the disguised Countess) for a kiss; Susanna watches anxiously as the Count and Figaro drive the pest away. The Count begins to woo ‘Susanna’, who responds shyly; Figaro’s impotent rage is highlighted in the bass. He contrives a temporary interruption. As the key changes from G to E-flat a serenade-like melody ironically evokes the peace of the night. Seeing the Countess (actually Susanna), Figaro tells her what is going on; then recognizing her by her voice, he pays ‘the Countess’ passionate court. Enraged, Susanna boxes his ears again, blows which he greets with rapture. This scene unfolds to a frantic allegro, replaced at the reconciliation by pastoral ⁶/₈. Now they enact Figaro pleading passionate love to the Countess; on cue, with a second abrupt key-change (B-flat to G), the Count bursts in on them, calling witnesses, dragging everyone including the false Countess from the pavilion, shouting accusations. The entry of the real Countess (in Susanna’s clothes) leaves the company breathless. The humbled Count’s prayer for forgiveness, and her loving response, build into a radiant hymn before the brilliant conclusion brings down the curtain on the crazy day.

Figaro is generally agreed to be the most perfect and least problematic of Mozart’s great operas. The libretto, despite its complication (to which any synopsis does scant justice), is founded on a carefully constructed intrigue and Mozart draws musical dividends even from a hat, an anonymous letter and a pin. The advance on the sketched opere buffe of the immediately preceding years is astonishing, and must be attributed mainly to the effect on his imagination of the play, ably seconded by Da Ponte’s adaptation.

The originality of the ensembles has often and rightly been commented upon. Many of them carry the action forward, not at the ‘natural’ tempo of recitative but under musical control; this makes such moments as the revelation of Figaro’s parents to Susanna (the Act 3 sextet) both touching and funny, and creates palpable tension when the Count comes near to murdering his wife’s ‘lover’ (the Act 2 trio), although we know the unseen Susanna will enable the page to escape. The arias are no less original for their brevity and directness. They convey, economically and unforgettably, the essential characterization of Bartolo, Cherubino (‘Non so pii¹’), the Countess and the Count. Figaro and Susanna are presented in ensembles and action arias (his Act 1 cavatina, although it is a kind of soliloquy, and ‘Non pii¹ andrai’; her ‘Venite, inginocchiatevi’). Their central place in the intrigue is confirmed when each has an obbligato recitative (normally a sign of high rank) in the last act; these precede the last arias, soliloquies which deepen Figaro’s character (although his cynical denunciation of women is not endearing) and reveal the subtlety and tenderness of Susanna. Mozart’s replacement of ‘Deh vieni’ in 1789 by ‘Al desio’ is a rare case of his damaging his own work by pandering to a singer.
Modern performances often omit Marcellina’s Act 4 aria, a stately minuet and melodious Allegro of deliberately old-fashioned cut (with coloratura and strings-only orchestration), and Basilio’s, an elaborate and inventively composed narration in three sections (andante, minuet allegro). Despite their virtues these pieces of moralizing by minor characters create a sequence of four arias inappropriate so near the dénouement, and an excess of minuet tempo.

The only other critical reservation about Le nozze di Figaro concerns the episodic structure of the third act. It comes precisely where Da Ponte had to depart decisively from Beaumarchais (omitting the extended trial scene). The reordering of scenes (Moberly and Raeburn 1965) has no documentary foundation, and can be shown not to represent Mozart’s original intention (Tyson 1981); but the revised sequence avoids two immediately successive entries for the Countess and works well in the theatre. It would have been unmanageable with the original casting, which doubles Antonio with Bartolo; without the Countess’s ‘Dove sono’ Antonio must enter immediately after the sextet, in which Bartolo sings. The non-sequiturs of Act 3, however, count for little in performance and throw into greater relief the ingenious management of its finale. In the great finales of Acts 2 and 4, Mozart reached a level which he could never surpass; indeed, he was hardly to equal the B-flat Allegro of the second act finale for its mercurial motivic play and the subsequent Andante in 6/8 for the synchronization of dramatic revelation with the demands of musical form.

For a page from the autograph score, see Mozart, wolfgang amadeus.

JULIAN RUSHTON

© Oxford University Press 2007

The Symphony No. 9, in E Minor “From the New World” (Op. 95), popularly known as the New World Symphony, was composed by Antonín Dvořák in 1893 during his visit to the United States from 1892 to 1895. It is by far his most popular symphony, and one of the most popular symphonies in the modern repertory.

Instrumentation

This symphony is scored for an orchestra of the following:2 flutes (one doubling piccolo) ^[1], 2 oboes (one doubling on cor anglais), 2 clarinets in A, 2 bassoons, 4 horns in E and C, 2 trumpets in E, C and E flat, 2 tenor trombones, bass trombone, tuba (second movement only)^[2], timpani, triangle, cymbals, and strings.

Movements

The piece has four movements:

1. Adagio – Allegro molto
2. Largo
3. Scherzo: Molto vivace – Poco sostenuto
4. Allegro con fuoco

Influences

Dvořák was interested in the native American music and African-American spirituals he heard in America. Upon his arrival in America, he stated:

“I am convinced that the future music of this country must be founded on what are called Negro melodies. These can be the foundation of a serious and original school of composition, to be developed in the United States. These beautiful and varied themes are the product of the soil. They are the folk songs of America and your composers must turn to them.”

The symphony was commissioned by the New York Philharmonic, and premiered on December 16, 1893 at Carnegie Hall (which was the home of the Philharmonic until 1962), conducted by Anton Seidl. A day earlier, in an article published in the New York Herald on December 15, 1893, Dvořák further explained how Native American music had been an influence on this symphony:

I have not actually used any of the [Native American] melodies. I have simply written original themes embodying the peculiarities of the Indian music, and, using these themes as subjects, have developed them with all the resources of modern rhythms, counterpoint, and orchestral color.”

In the same article, Dvořák stated that he regarded the symphony’s second movement as a “sketch or study for a later work, either a cantata oropera … which will be based upon Longfellow’s [The Song of] Hiawatha” (he never actually wrote such a piece). He also wrote that the third movement scherzo was “suggested by the scene at the feast in Hiawatha where the Indians dance”.Curiously enough, passages which modern ears perceive as the musical idiom of African-American spirituals may have been intended by Dvořák to evoke a Native American atmosphere. In 1893, a newspaper interview quoted Dvořák as saying “I found that the music of the negroes and of the Indians was practically identical”, and that “the music of the two races bore a remarkable similarity to the music of Scotland“.^[4][5] Most historians agree that Dvořák is referring to the pentatonic scale, which is typical of each of these musical traditions.In a 2008 article in the Chronicle of Higher Education, prominent musicologist Joseph Horowitz asserts that African-american spirituals were a major influence on the 9th symphony, quoting Dvořák from an 1893 interview in the New York Herald as saying, “In the negro melodies of America I discover all that is needed for a great and noble school of music.”^[6]Despite all this, it is generally considered that, like other Dvořák pieces, the work has more in common with folk music of his native Bohemia than with that of the United States. Leonard Bernstein averred that the work was truly multinational in its foundations.^[7] Nonetheless, many have proclaimed that the spirit of this symphony is quintessentially American, and the multiculturalism of the work has been cited as supporting this, in harmony with the nature of America as a melting pot.

Critical reception

At the Ninth Symphony’s premiere at Carnegie Hall the reception was one of perpetual cheering. The end of every movement was met with thunderous clapping and Dvořák felt obliged to stand up and bow. In a letter to his publisher Simrock he stated how there was “no getting out of it, and I had to show myself willy-nilly”.

Influence on other composers

The theme from the largo was adapted into a spiritual-like song “Goin’‘ Home,” by black composer Harry Burleigh, whom Dvořák met during his American sojourn, and lyricist William Arms Fisher.^[8]

Media

1. Adagio – Allegro Molto
2. Largo
3. Molto Vivace
4. Allegro con Fuoco

Performed by the Skidmore College Orchestra. Courtesy of Musopen

Problems playing the files? See media help.

PREPARING BEFORE THE AUDITION

Have a daily practice routine – hopefully, most of you have this already. It will help you to be more consistent with your playing (how you practice will become how you perform with the more practicing you do). Cramming is never a good idea; let me repeat, cramming is never a good idea. There is nothing you can learn the night before an audition that will truly help you and stick with you the next day. Clarinet upkeep – If your instrument is in need of repairs, get it fixed NOW. Do not wait until a few days before your audition, as you do not know if the music store will really have time for you or not. Play for others – friends, family, other musicians, band director, private teachers, sectional instructors, strangers, anyone with ears. It’s not always about making sure you get feedback, sometimes it’s just about having the guts to get up and play in front of someone. Remember that, and your nerves won’t bother you as much when you have to play by yourself. Consult with everyone – ask, ask, ask! It is even possible to find a message board, blog, or forum that will allow you to upload sheet music and ask questions, and get feedback from musicians from all over.

PREPARING THE NIGHT BEFORE / DAY OF THE AUDITION

1. Get a good night’s sleep; if you’re nervous or feeling a bit of insomnia, at least find time to relax.
2. Eat breakfast – anything greasy may not set well with you, so be sure to eat something that will not make you feel sick later.
3. Water is good to have, especially right before your audition.
4. Keep calm – it’s only one day, and it’s going to be over soon
5. Do not practice things to death – remember, there is nothing you can learn the night before or the day of the audition that will truly stick with you later on.

AFTER THE AUDITION

• Relax
• Go out to eat
• Celebrate with friends / family
• REMEMBER YOU DID THE BEST YOU COULD FOR THAT DAY

WHAT TO DO WHEN / IF…

• …I’m late for my audition: Check in with the door monitor and let them know you’re there; the school will not be a stickler about making sure everyone goes in order, because things happen to everyone. Let them know you’re here, and then go warm up normally. Remember the checklist for ‘today
• …I’m intimidated by the person playing before me: Don’t stand outside the door; I don’t recommend it because it makes most people even more nervous. Remember that the judges are fair and objective, and they want you to do well. Believe in yourself and do not compare yourself to others; your abilities are what matter, not the person in the audition room before you
• …The chair is crooked the stand is too low: Move the chair; move the stand, and above all, DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE JUDGE. This is your audition, not his/hers.
• …I screw up a section in the middle of the piece: Remember that it’s not the end of the world – you did not just lose a shot to be in band. Pick up where you left off and continue as best you can.
• …My instrument / reed breaks in the middle of the piece: Check with the door monitor – they will tell the judge (you do not). Let them know the situation, and then go find someone to help you fix your instrument, replace your reed, or let you borrow their clarinet (if it is a bad problem).
• …My audition is over: Do not huff and puff if you think you did poorly (the judge can hear that)! Do not comment on your playing until the door to the audition room is closed (the judge can hear that, too). Lastly, remember that you’re only human, and (as was said before) you have done the best you can in that situation for that day.

LOREENA McKENNITT INTRODUCES HERSELF

Loreena McKennitt

Many people come to know the public persona of an artist and wonder what they are like off-stage. I may not be the best person to paint that picture, but let me try. I grew up in rural Manitoba, Canada, the daughter of a nurse and a livestock dealer and enjoyed a fairly free and easy rural childhood. I aspired to be a veterinarian as a child but, in the way that “the best laid plans get sent sideways”, I found that music chose me rather than me, it. Interestingly, even after many years of performing, I don’t consider myself to have the strong extroverted personality best suited for a career in music, but rather one which is more comfortable on a farm, in an informal gathering of friends.I became smitten with what is now referred to as Celtic music in the late 1970s, but it was only when I started to connect with its history that my journey really began. At an exhibition of Celtic artifacts in Venice in 1991, I learned about the geographic and historic spread of the Celts. I found myself drawn into a rich, ancient tapestry of sounds and rhythms and stories. I discovered myths and traditions that resemble one another from far corners of the globe, people who share traits and yet are distinctive.My starting point is the belief that, in one way or another, we are all an extension of each other’s history. Wanting to learn about our neighbours is also a desire to learn about ourselves. I have simply chosen the Celtic vehicle in which to do this. No doubt I could have chosen another conduit for my music – let’s say the history of hats – and experienced just as interesting a journey as I have had with Celtic history. But that vehicle has taken me to so many places and people worldwide and also down paths and into themes with little Celtic connection whatsoever.But music is not only a marvelous medium for self-education and creative expression. I am also in awe of music’s unique capacity to induce and enhance moods and psychological states and the great linkages it has to physiology. This is illustrated in the field of music therapy, not only for humans but also for animals. I think of dairy farmers who pipe in classical music to induce cows to give more milk, or of a recent film set in Mongolia called The Story of the Weeping Camel, in which a mother camel rejects her calf only to reclaim it following a musical ritual. I think of the MIT professor who uses MRI scans to study the impact on the brain of the meditation and chanting of Kundalini yoga.I am deeply interested in these connections between physiology and our spiritual and psychological beings, and the many events and experiences that inspire us. Surely some creativity comes from this set of intersections.Beyond music, I have a free-ranging curiosity about many things and a pretty hefty filing cabinet to prove it! My drawers are chock-a-block full of clippings and materials on subjects ranging from childhood development to environmental issues, agriculture, politics, food and nutrition, puppets, religion and many world issues.Some of these interests are knit deeply into my daily life and our work at Quinlan Road, as I think it’s important to give to and be part of our greater communities. In 1998, I started the Cook-Rees Memorial Fund for Water Search and Safety, when three people very dear to me – Ronald Rees, Richard Rees and Gregory Cook – perished in a boating incident not far from where I live. Thanks to the generosity of friends and families in Stratford and around Canada and the world, we’ve been able to support a range of initiatives involving water safety education as well as search, rescue and recovery exercises. I cannot tell you how inspiring it has been for me to get to know the wonderful, dedicated people working in this area, many of whom go out to risk their lives on our behalf every day.Another project close to my heart has been the establishment of the Falstaff Family Centre. This initiative began as an effort to rescue a redundant school house in the city where I live and bring it to its next incarnation. It is a lovely, sturdy building, very close to the river and by working with people in the community, we’ve been able to turn this historic building into a centre for community and children’s activities.Each spring, I carve out time to plant my garden in order to keep some remnants of an intimate relationship with food, the land and the seasons and every autumn, I set aside time to celebrate the harvest at Thanksgiving.And just as one builds a company’s mission statement based on values and principles, I have done the same thing for myself. Certain principles have become my compass points. I reference them whenever I make important choices and decisions, professionally or personally. They are things to which I strive and am pleased to share some of them with you.

• Be compassionate and never forget how to love.
• Think inclusively.
• Reclaim noble values such as truth, honesty, honour, courage.
• Respect one’s elders and look to what they have to teach you
• Be empathetic.
• Look after the less fortunate in society.
• Promote and protect diversity.
• Respect the gifts of the natural world.
• Set your goals high and take pride in what you do.
• Cherish and look after your body, and, as the ancient Greeks believed, your mind will serve you better.
• Put back into the community as there have been those before you have done the same and you are reaping what they sowed.
• Participate in and protect democracy. It does not thrive as a spectator sport.
• Undertake due diligence in everything.
• Seek balance and space, and solitude.
• Don’t be afraid to feel passionate about something.
• Learn to be an advocate and an ambassador for good.
• Be mindful of your limitations.
• Indulge and nurture your curiosity as it will keep you vital.
• Take charge of your life and don’t fall into the pit of entitlement.
• Assume nothing and take nothing for granted.
• Things are not necessarily what they seem.