Jane Rutter Flute and Island Sunset.
Listen listen to the reed forlorn
crying ever since it was torn from its rushy bed
a song of love and pain
the secret of my song, though near
None can see, none can hear
o for a friend to know the sign and mingle all his tears with mine
’tis the flame of love that fired me
’tis the flame of love inspired me
would you learn why lovers bleed?
then listen, listen to the reed
Rumi
All musical instruments evoke the voice in some way. In the human beginning there were only drums and voices: hands clapping, feet stomping in sometimes frenzied sometimes gentle rhythm. And very shortly after another primitive instrument was born: the flute: a simple pipe or pipes which harnessed the breath and recalled not only the sound of the human voice chanting, but also implied nature through the wood, reeds or clay from which it was made.
Different flutes have different sounds. In current times we flautists have an incredible variety of flutes derived from vastly different materials: gold, silver, piccolo, brass and nickel whistles, bamboo and reed flutes from many countries, panpipes, various types of recorders. It is a feast of sonority- and all these flutes have their own special sound qualities and characters. Nonetheless it is certain that all of them have a huge relationship and correlation to the human voice. They all, particularly when played well and with communicative intent, evoke the human voice and the songs and stories of the human condition. The flute is the premier instrument of the breath. It is most like the voice because its sound is created from an air reed of no resistance. Unlike other wind instruments such as the reeds (clarinet saxophone, oboe, bassoon) and the brass family which all have (part of) the mouthpiece to “push against “,The flute makes its sound by splitting the air on the opposite side of the embouchure hole. Flute players therefore have a similar conversation about technique, support and breath control as do singers.
I have always believed we flautists are the blood brothers of vocalists. It was therefore wonderfully serendipitous and lucky that at the age of eighteen my life path led me to study on a French government scholarship in Paris with Alain Marion and Jean-Pierre Rampal both teachers at the Conservatoire de Paris (both of the famed “Rampal School” of flute playing and musical philosophy). These flute luminaries, whose school of playing was later dubbed the BELCANTO school of flute, taught that the flute, with its vocal-like inflections and wide possibilities of vocal or tonal colour, should at all times represent the many capabilities of the human voice. During a flute class or private lesson with Rampal or with Marion, it was the absolute norm to hear the words
” Chants! Mais chants!” (“Sing! oh!sing!”)
A beseeching order orated several times with enthusiasm and passion. In these wonderful lessons, the teachers – especially Alain Marion- were full of the joy of music making, of expression and communication, the joy of being creatively fulfilled through the voice of the flute. In fact when Alain Marion died, one of the first tributes dedicated to him was titled “the Song of the Flute” As well incredible technical prowess,we were encouraged to tell every story of the world in our playing. It was required, nay demanded for this type of playing. For me lessons became an Aladdin’s cave of possibilities:
I was shown the way to express every aspect of the human condition through music. Music at this time became for me vocal whenever I was either playing or listening to it. In the hands and (with the breath) of these two great players, Jean-Pierre Rampal and Alain Marion, it was as if one were being serenaded by Sheherezade’s tales of A Thousand and One Nights: The tenderness of a mother for her baby, the dreamy smoke of an opium den, the temptations of the flesh, the anguish of heart-break, death and destruction: all colours in the palette of the ‘Flute as Voice” credo.
It was and is like a homecoming to be taught this philosophy. I believe that in many ways we humans crave divine integration, and that music provides us with an access to complete connection on all levels: physical, emotional, spiritual, and intellectual. Music fulfills the divine homesickness that exists in all of us. It speaks to our longings- subconscious and conscious. Music is a hidden language which we all to varying extent understand and speak. The flute is a “breath instrument”. And instruments of the breath are closest to the heart. Closest to the air we breathe to the life force itself in fact. As Alain Marion used to say it- is no coincidence that the verb “to be inspired” has the same Latin root as the verb “to breathe in”.
The French verb “inspirer” means both. From the first cry of humanity, our innate desire for expression has found many voices. For me the flute is that voice. Jane Rutter (The above Sufi poem from Rumi written in the 13c century)
