Mirror of the Soul is a reference to the precious metal silver because of its extraordinary reflective ability.  A silver musical instrument reflects a person’s heart or soul through sound. I am drawn to the purity of sound of a silver instrument, which I have used for decades to heal my body, mind and spirit. The chemical symbol for silver on the periodic table is Ag – a symbol that is derived from the Latin, argentum, which means white light and shining. White light is of the highest vibrational energy, and it contains all the wavelengths of the visible spectrum. The closer I get to its vibration, the purer I feel, as it warms me literally and figuratively. I choose to play a silver flute because its purity connects me to the white light of the divine, and its brilliant, shining luster reflects my shining divinity. As I cradle the instrument in my hands, I breathe my entire being into it, and, as my life force is filtered through my lips, I speak my truth. The silver tubing allows me to feel the resonance in my fingertips, and the warmth of the tone and the warmth of the metal are felt in my hands as well as my heart. Playing this instrument is a form of meditation for me, and there are instances when the metal pipe merges so completely with my soul that I often do not know where my body ends and the pipe begins. I have experienced the phenomenon of becoming one with the instrument, or, as athletes like to say, “going into the zone.” That sensation for me is feeling God. When I play a piece, I try to paint an aural landscape or soundscape of my deep connection to the music of my heart.

At no time have my musical sojourns been more important than during the past few months of this pandemic shutdown. Practicing the flute has given me a temporary respite from the anxiety of loss. I have been fortunate in that I have not lost any loved ones from the virus, but I have lost my sense of artistic communion through music-making – whether it be attending a live performance or the excitement of giving one to a crowd of enthusiastic supporters. I fear the magic of communion is but a distant memory. In the meantime, I have had ample opportunity to reflect on the deeper meaning that music has had for me – then and now.

Several months ago, I began a Native American Flute Share on my social media pages so that I could re-connect with the beauty of a set of hand-made instruments I bought a decade ago. I always enjoyed demonstrating flutes of different woods for my audio production students because each had its own tone color, and who better to appreciate the beauties of different sounds than an audio professional? I also believed the Native flutes would be easier for non-musicians to appreciate than the repertoire of the transverse flute. After receiving some positive feedback from some friends and colleagues on Facebook and LinkedIn regarding my videos, I began easing my audience into some of the professional solo flute repertoire. I played some standard works, but I also was eager to record some new pieces by living composers. Eventually, I added popular music to demonstrate versatility and my skills as a rock pianist (for lack of a better term)! All of these videos are posted on my YouTube channel (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVYDy-mE-Zr8d6yXP3JlHGw/videos?view_as=subscriber).

Creating beauty in the midst of chaos has provided me with countless hours of satisfaction and fulfillment. My heart overflows with gratitude to the composers from the USA, Italy, France, The Netherlands and Canada who have sent me their works to interpret. At some point, I hope to play an entire concert of all the music that I received in 2020. One piece that I will enthusiastically include on that recital is Corentin Boissier’s Sonata for Flute and Piano (2018). I connected with him on Facebook, and he graciously sent me his brilliant work, which can be heard in its entirety on his YouTube channel (https://youtu.be/VEcYF7yeIo4). What is most impressive about this video, is that he plays the piano accompaniment part sans sheet music – a work, which is truly a piece of chamber music as opposed to just being a flute piece with accompaniment. He has composed more than twenty works in a neo-romantic style, and his music reminds me of the compositions of Franck, Faure, Saint-Saens, Reinecke, Debussy, Ravel, Gaubert or even Rachmaninov. I love that he provides ample opportunity for shaping beautiful melodies, and in some cases, the freedom to make said melodies sound improvisatory. As a flutist who has always been a technical workhorse, I enjoy the challenge of technically executing his music as well. With this work, he provides satisfaction on every level – musical, mental, emotional and spiritual.

As I practiced his flute sonata, I was transported back to my graduate school days, where I was steeped in the music of the French Flute School – a school, which represented the epitome of elegance for me. My teacher and mentor introduced me to all of this wonderful music because he enjoyed programming it in the entire second half of his recitals. There was just so much of it to enjoy! Before studying with David Cramer, I had really only been familiar with the Chaminade Concertino, as I had played an arrangement of it for flute and band during my senior year of high school and an arrangement for flute and orchestra during my senior year of college. David opened my eyes to the trademark French elegance, and on account of his expert tutelage, I entered the 1994 Flute Talk Flute Competition for which Bozza’s Image was the required contest piece. I was selected as one of 12 semi-finalists nationwide, and the only flutist from the state of Pennsylvania who competed at Northwestern University that year. My passion for French music at this point was at an all-time high. The extensive list of French repertoire can be attributed to the vast amount of flute music, which was especially commissioned for the public concours at the Paris Conservatoire. From 1860 until 1950, the Paris Conservatoire dominated musical education in France. Conservatoire students received group rather than individual instruction, and the typical flute class consisted of approximately 12 students, who were selected by competitive audition. For the public concours in July, students prepared a designated piece and demonstrated their sight-reading ability. Jurists could award a first or second prize or a first or second Certificate of Merit. Students did not compete against individual players, but rather a required standard. It was thus possible for more than one Premier Prix (first prize) to be awarded in the same year, or on occasion, for it to be withheld altogether. The acquisition of the Premier Prix marked a student’s graduation from the Conservatoire.

The French flute school was born and flourished in this rich Parisian musical environment. The flute, an instrument capable of a certain lightness and simplicity of expression appealed to the French artistic temperament. French flutists were renowned for their variety of tone colors, elegant nuance, outstanding finger technique and lightening articulation. The French flutist, Paul Taffanel, professor at the Paris Conservatoire from 1893 until 1908, was the “Father of the French flute school.” He played with a full, homogeneous sound, and elegance, flexibility and sensitivity were hallmarks of his artistry. He infused his students with a respect for simplicity and refinement, which had been so much a part of his own performance. His students were encouraged to study the details of the composition carefully, and to respect the text of the music absolutely.

Taffanel is credited with purifying the solo flute repertoire by reviving the forgotten 18^th century compositions of Bach and Mozart. The old school of flute playing, which began with Tulou and ended with Demersseman, favored brilliant solos, which fostered a pretentious style “full of sound and fury.” Taffanel placed stronger emphasis on the cantabile style and less on virtuosity for its own sake. Realizing the need for new music, he was also the first to commission the concours pieces.

Flutist, composer and conductor, Philippe Gaubert, was a student of Paul Taffanel. He entered the Conservatoire in 1893, the year Taffanel assumed the position of Professor of Flute. At the age of fifteen, following one year of study, Gaubert won the Premier Prix by performing Langer’s Concerto. In 1919, he succeeded Adolphe Hennebains as Professor of Flute at the Conservatoire, a position he held until 1931. His conducting career began in 1904, when he was appointed assistant conductor of Societe des Concerts. Conducting soon took precedence over his careers as flutist and composer, when, in 1920, he became conductor of the Paris Opera, and then in 1931, Director of Music at the Opera. Although he is best remembered as a conductor, he made some outstanding contributions to the flute world. He compiled and completed the Taffanel and Gaubert Methode Complete de Flute from materials entrusted to him by his mentor, Paul Taffanel. This invaluable method, published in 1923, is an essential part of the daily practice routine of serious students and professionals today.  Gaubert’s compositional output includes an opera, numerous symphonic works, ballets, an oratorio, chamber pieces, songs and over twenty works for flute. His writing reflects a concern for purity, elegance and balance. His music is transparent, delicate, sensuous, lyrical, and not always rhythmically complex. I now enthusiastically share this above background information, which was one component of my graduation requirements for my master’s degree. My master’s thesis topic was Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes, but, in addition, I thoroughly researched the music of Igor Stravinsky and the French Flute School. I delivered a forty-five minute oral presentation on the latter and was told by the graduate coordinator that my talk was the most thorough and enthusiastic that he had heard in his fifteen years of teaching at the University of the Arts. He encouraged me to pursue a college teaching position, which I achieved ten years later.

Corentin Boissier’s music has come closer than any other living composer to reminding me of the legendary traditions of Taffanel and Gaubert, who have always been and continue to be heroes and role models to me in my pursuit of musical artistry. Corentin has been writing music since he was six years old and was discovered by the composer Thierry Escaich when he was only nine, as he had a “genuine sense of harmonic color, rhythmic invention and of renewal of thematic material.” He received Diplomas of Musical Studies  “with highest distinction” from the CRR of Paris in “Specialized Classes of Musical Writing and Orchestration.”  He then received his “Prize of Harmony with Highest Distinction” and “Prize of Counterpoint with Unanimous Highest Distinction” at the National Superior Conservatory of Music of Paris. According to him, “classical music is an essential thing. It is a link between my inner life and my daily life. At the beginning, music was a vocation; now it’s a way of existing.” He believes there is so much to be gained from the study of classical music that “ten lives would not be enough to learn everything about it.” He fears that classical music is in danger of disappearing from the societal canvas, as did poetry and spirituality. He opines that tonal music has not been taught in over sixty years, including in Paris, and atonal compositions have a very small audience, which do not appeal to the masses.

I have spent many joyful hours listening to Corentin’s YouTube channel (https://www.youtube.com/c/CorentinBoissier-composer/videos), as it tickles my musical fancy, and I can steep my ears in glorious melodies and tonalities. I have an extensive library of flute music and orchestral recordings, but when I wish to expand either, I oftentimes look at the title of the compositions. I have a quirky sense of humor, so I order pieces for which I can share a story regarding the title or the inspiration behind the work, just in case I have the opportunity to play it in public. After the composer sent me the link to his flute sonata, I was intrigued and listened to his following compositions: Alice in Wonderland: Concertino for Harp, Flute, Cello and Piano, Sherlock Holmes Overture, Go to New York: Overture for Wind Ensemble, The Phantom of the Opera: Concerto for Organ and Orchestra, Pyrenean Sonata for Violin and Guitar, Pandora’s Box for Solo Piano, and Glamour Concerto for Solo Piano. I can honestly say that I find his music otherworldly and full of heart and beauty while still offering technical challenges and intellectual stimulation.

In the early 1990’s, when I was a student required to participate in our school’s New Music Ensemble, I was often “turned off” by what I was playing and hearing. The pieces were technically challenging to execute but had no recognizable melody. We were told that we were playing highly intellectual music, and, if we couldn’t understand it, our IQ’s were not high enough to appreciate it. Years later, I was discussing contemporary music with an accomplished musician friend and former classmate of mine. He said that only history would be able to judge the value of those pieces we were subjected to play as students. He said that the reason we were drawn to composers such as Brahms or Wagner or other “classic greats,” and the reason their music endured was because they were all inspired by the divine. Those who denied the existence of God or any link to the spiritual whatsoever were not able to create enduring or endearing compositions. I was shocked when I heard this because my friend was not particularly a “religious” person, but when he recommended a book written by Arthur Abell entitled, Talks With Great Composers, I was convinced he was right  – beyond a shadow of a doubt! This book explores the “psychology of the creative process” and offers stunning insight into the minds of musicians who lived between 1890 and 1917. I believe that Corentin Boissier is plugged in to a similar wellspring of creativity. In an online interview, he has said, “Nobody knows where inspiration comes from, but it stimulates and channels the fantasy. Inspiration is the most important thing in all artistic creations.” When he writes, his first instinct is to satisfy himself. My mentor said the same thing to me about programming his recital music. His first obligation was to satisfy himself so he could be enthusiastic on the stage. I, also, have found this to be true. When I am musically, intellectually and emotionally stimulated, that passion and enthusiasm is contagious. I have had students tell me that they are not interested in composers of the past, but I lecture about them so passionately that they can get excited about the music we listen to in class for a short time – even if they never listen to it again. The same is true in the concert hall. I always try to get to a place where my silver flute becomes my channel to the divine. The greatest compliment I have ever received was at a concert I was playing in Tivoli, Italy. A gentleman approached me afterwards and said that while I was playing, he could “see the face of God on my heart.” It is a special magic that vibrantly resonates when I cradle that pipe in my hands and breathe my entire being into it.

I thank Corentin Boissier for sending me such a brilliant flute composition that is helping me remember the deeper meaning behind the music I love to play. His music has provided a window to the finest traditions of the composers of the past. For me personally, it is reminiscent of my studies of the French Flute School composers Paul Taffanel and Philippe Gaubert and a stunning representation of purity, elegance, simplicity, complexity, balance and sensuous lyricism. You have made tradition relevant in the present and have provided a professional mirror for me to reflect the music of my heart and soul and boldly speak my truth! I enthusiastically encourage everyone to spend a few hours listening to his YouTube channel (https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=corentin+boissier) to discover deeper meaning in your lives as well. These soundscapes are beacons of white light in the darkness!