Foreword

What is it that makes a musician important? Is it in the creation of compositions for performance in concert halls and opera houses for the delectation of those who like, and can afford, to frequent such places? Is it in holding halls full of such people enthralled with performances of past masterpieces? Or is it in using his or her gifts, skills and experience to awaken and to guide the dormant musicality of those whose music has been taken from them? He or she who chooses the latter course will sacrifice the honours and the financial rewards that the first two can bring, and will need not only unusual musical gifts but also courage and integrity of an unusual kind and degree, for the message is not only simple and revolutionary but it is also alarming to those who hold our society's musical purse strings; once people become aware that music is in themselves and not only in those who have been selected to become musicians, once they take back to themselves the musical act in a spirit of delight and self-affirmation, who knows what else they might insist on reclaiming, and enjoying, of what has been taken from them?

Of the small and honourable number of musicians in this country who have chosen such a course, John Stevens has for a long time occupied a leading position. My own first encounter with him, in 1971 in his Spontaneous Music Workshops at Ealing College, when he was experimenting with many of the ideas which led to the pieces in this book, was exhilarating, disturbing (he is not always a comfortable person to be around) and, above all, liberating in the intense discipline and devotion which he called for in all who took part. I count those workshops, and my subsequent friendship with him, as a major influence on the way in which I make, perceive and think about music, and thus on my whole life.

The pieces - exercises - activities - vehicles - call them what you like.(it is an indication of their author's intention that they can be all these things at once) in this collection represent an achievement in sustained musical thought that is at least equal to that called for in the creations of those admired musicians who compose for the Festival Hall and such places, and they require for their performance a concentration and a devotion that is even more intense. The difference is that these are not exclusive in their intention but inclusive; anyone can play, regardless of formal technical accomplishment, provided he or she approaches them with simplicity and seriousness and a mind drained of high-culture assumptions of what music is supposed to be about - a task that is easier for the untrained than for the trained performer, as I can testify from experience. They call, in fact, for exactly those skills which each playercan bring to them, no more and certainly no less. It will be noticed also how, almost without exception, the pieces depend more on collaboration, on listeningto one another, than on individual performing skills; they invite each participant to trust, in a communal and convivial spirit, in the musicality which is born in us all.

Above all, these pieces are good to play, and while they are intended more to involve performers than to please listeners, they are good to hear. True enjoyment -comes from a harmony between what one is doing and a human need, and the musical act arises from a universal need to affirm oneself in relation with others which is at the heart, in fact, of all communication. It is to that universal need, transcending cultural boundaries, that this collection is addressed. Erik Satie counselled players of his Sports and Entertainments to turn the pages of his score 'with a friendly and smiling finger', and I can advise nothing better for these pieces. Play them, play with them, enjoy them, learn from them.

By Christopher Small