There is always something slightly strange about the first week of a new semester. The corridors at the HfMT suddenly fill up again, people appear carrying instruments and coffee, rooms that have been empty for weeks are booked solid, and everyone is trying to remember where they left off before the summer.

This year, for me, the beginning of the semester feels particularly significant.

The winter semester at the Hochschule für Musik und Tanz Köln starts on October 5. The following evening, on October 6, I will play my Antrittskonzert as Junior Professor for Interpretation of New Music. And less than 48 hours later, I’ll be in Münster with Nadar Ensemble for Don’t Leave the Room.

So there isn’t exactly going to be a gentle return to work.

One of the things I enjoy most about working at the HfMT is that the teaching is never really separate from the artistic work. The questions that come up in rehearsals—how we work with electronics and video, how performers take on different roles, and how we rehearse music that doesn’t behave like traditional repertoire—also find their way into the classroom.

And before all of that gets properly underway, there is the small matter of standing on stage myself.

(c) Pieter Matthynssens

And I am on stage again

My Antrittskonzert is part of the HfMT’s Spitzentöne series. The program brings together Jessie Marino’s Ritual, Piotr Peszat’s And I am standing on stage again, and Thierry De Mey’s Light Music.

It is not exactly a conventional trombone recital.

In Peszat’s piece, for example, I work with live video and electronics alongside the trombone. Wannes Gonnissen is responsible for the sound, and Piotr is involved with the electronics. The technology isn’t decoration around the music—it is part of the performance itself.

That is also a good description of much of the work I want to develop at the HfMT: not just asking how we perform contemporary music, but what a performer can be when the traditional boundaries between instrument, musician, and concert start to become less clear.

And perhaps appropriately for an Antrittskonzert, the title And I am standing on stage again feels slightly autobiographical. After all the rehearsals, meetings, teaching, administration, and emails that come with starting a new job, there is something wonderfully straightforward about eventually just having to walk onto the stage and play.

(c) Wim Hierbaut

Then we leave the room

The following Thursday, I will be doing almost the opposite.

With Nadar Ensemble, we are performing Don’t Leave the Room at Theater im Pumpenhaus in Münster. It is the German premiere of the production.

The starting point is Joseph Brodsky’s poem Don’t Leave the Room, written in 1969—a partly ironic, partly threatening invitation to stay inside, shut the door, and avoid the outside world.

The performance brings together music, film, electronics, animation, and performance. I’ve been fascinated by Alexander Khubeev’s Don’t Leave the Room since its first performances, but it is one of those projects that is difficult to explain without seeing it.

The central performer, Elena Evstratova, uses sign language and gesture rather than spoken text. Her movements are precisely coordinated with the musicians, electronics, and video. At times the ensemble responds to her; at others, the relationship becomes almost mechanical. Her projected image eventually splits into several versions of herself.

For me, this is one of the things Nadar does particularly well: the technology doesn’t sit on top of the music. It changes the relationships between the people on stage.

So this is how the new semester starts for me: welcoming students back to the HfMT, preparing my Antrittskonzert, and then getting back on the road with Nadar.

If you’re in Cologne, I’d be very happy to see you at the concert on October 6. And if you’re in Münster, come and join us for Don’t Leave the Room on October 8. I hope to see some of you there!

The end of the academic year always seems to gather momentum. Suddenly, projects that have been months in the making all converge into a few remarkable weeks. This past week has been one of those.

At HfMT Köln’s Adventure #16, I had the pleasure of taking part in the premiere of Christian Brandenberger’s Lieblingslied. For me, it was also a rather personal milestone: the first time I had played the contrabass trombone in around fifteen years. Thankfully, it felt surprisingly natural to return to the instrument. More importantly, Lieblingslied proved to be an intensely moving work—subtle, powerful, and beautifully crafted. As always, sharing the stage with the incredible musicians of Ensemble Musikfabrik was both inspiring and a reminder of the extraordinary level of musicianship they bring to every project.

A few days later I found myself at the Nadar Summer Academy, where, amongst many fascinating workshops and performances, I coached participants in John Cage’s Branches. Every time I return to this piece I become more convinced of its continuing relevance—perhaps even more so now, as the boundary between what we consider “natural” and what we have imposed upon it becomes increasingly blurred. Cage invites us to make music not about nature, but with it. This time, however, I asked participants not only to work with branches and leaves, but also to collect non-organic materials—plastic bottles, caps, wrappers—objects that have become just as present in our environment as any plant or tree. Once you’ve accepted that our actions inevitably shape the world around us, listening carefully to these materials becomes something more unsettling. The sounds of plastic and debris are no longer incidental; they are part of the landscape we have created. What emerges is not only an exploration of timbre, but a confrontation with the traces we leave behind. Watching participants navigate this expanded sonic field—and hearing the resulting performance—was a reminder that Cage’s work continues to resonate, perhaps now with an added layer of urgency that is difficult to ignore.

Tonight marks another milestone: the premiere of Udo Zimmermann’s Die Weiße Rose with our students in Aachen. It has been an immensely rewarding process to accompany this production from its first rehearsals to opening night. The dedication of everyone involved—musicians, singers, production team, and staff—has been remarkable. I wish them all a wonderful premiere and an unforgettable performance.

The week concludes on Sunday at Museum Insel Hombroich with Prof. Ulrich Flad’s incredilble HfMT Köln trombone class . We will revisit two works that we first explored together back in January: Georg Friedrich Haas’ astonishingly detailed micro- (perhaps even nano-) tonal writing and Folke Rabe’s wonderfully untamed Bolos. I will also have the chance to perform George Lewis’ Oraculum once again—a piece that continues to challenge and surprise me every time I return to it.

It feels like a fitting way to bring this season almost to a close. Almost, because there is still one more concert to come on 1 August in Antwerp before it’s time to take a breath and begin looking towards the many exciting projects waiting next season.

More about that very soon.