Richard Blackford: "There's a whole universe inside a symphony, and I felt like there was one in the Sagrada Família too."

LondonAt the beginning of May, the world premiere of Symphony of the Sagrada Familia, a piece in three movements by Richard Blackford (London, 1954), which is inspired by the forms and spirituality conveyed by Gaudí's temple and, specifically, by its three façades: Nativity, Passion, and Glory. Blackford, who lives between Mallorca and the British capital, has a very long career that took a sudden turn in 2014: he consolidated the career of a contemporary composer who you only have to listen to to realize that he is and sounds, also, like a classic. The proof, in addition to the Gaudí symphony, which is accompanied by a film ad hoc, could be Pietan either Voices of Exile, a composition that resonates especially these days, for sadly obvious reasons.

Are you a religious man?

— I am not Catholic. I am a member of the Church of England, and a very spiritual person. Many of my compositions, including Pieta, they have that connection.

When did you first visit the Sagrada Familia?

— My first visit was around 1992. Scaffolding was still up, and it was difficult to get a precise idea of the effect the interior would have. It was a work in progress. It was 27 years later, in 2019, on a visit almost by chance with my brother-in-law, that I was moved. Especially by the interior, which was already finished. The impact of the columns and stained-glass windows was overwhelming. Also striking was the Nativity and Passion façades by Josep Maria Subirachs, which struck a deep note. Later, I was able to visit La Pedrera and was completely fascinated by the world of Gaudí.

During the writing of the symphony, did you visit the Sagrada Familia repeatedly? What did you feel?

— Yes. From Mallorca, I would go to Barcelona in the morning and return home in the afternoon. During the visit, I would take notes with my iPad, a notebook, and a pen. One of the most powerful sensations I had was thinking, as Mahler said, that within a symphony lies an entire universe. And I felt that inside the Sagrada Família there was also a universe, because of the way Gaudí includes all of nature: the strange animals outside, the columns that look like giant trees inside… Nature permeates the entire building. I think Gaudí wanted it to be an inclusive space, not just for Catholics or even Christians, but a place where anyone could find spiritual inspiration. That idea really captivated me.

The basilica isn't finished yet. Did you try to reflect that in your symphony?

— Yes, especially with regard to the Façade of Glory… We know, from Gaudí's models, that at the top of this façade would be the Creed. So I thought the beginning of the last movement would be a version of the Creed, taken from the Latin text, beginning with a horn melody. From here, I developed a theme that runs throughout the final movement. And since the façade is not yet finished, I wanted to celebrate the light from the stained-glass windows surrounding it.

How do you imagine the symphony will be performed at the Sagrada Família, if it ever happens?

— It would be wonderful to have multiple screens and the film shown, accompanied by live music. And for the audience to see the film and the real building, the ceiling, the organ, and feel the music at the same time.

You've composed music for film, symphonic music, choral music... How do you navigate these very different worlds?

— From a young age, I dreamed of combining music with other disciplines: spoken word, storytelling, dance, theater, opera... and later, film. At thirty, I started writing music for German television, especially for ZDF. And for twenty-one years, this occupied a large part of my life. I ended up making up to fifteen films a year, something unsustainable.

If I may say so, at that pace it seems impossible to produce anything of quality.

— It was an insane pace. And when I got married for the second time, in 2014, I decided to leave all that behind. I wanted to compose concert pieces, which I'd had to discard. I took a radical break and started a PhD at the University of Bristol to study contemporary music. Until then, I'd been quite disconnected from what was being done in the contemporary field. But the PhD opened up a new world for me. It was three years of total immersion, and it transformed my way of composing. This allowed me to return to concert composition. And in the last ten years, I've written around forty pieces for concert, orchestra, chamber music... And that's what I want to do until the end of my life.

And opera? When did you know you wanted to write?

— I think I was 13. My aunt took me to an opera in London for the first time, we went to see it. The West's little girl, by Puccini. It made a deep impression on me. Later, on a school exchange in Munich, I saw many operas, and especially Lulu, by Alban Berg, which confirmed to me that contemporary music can be very powerful. But to achieve it, you have to master the orchestration, the technique, a long road.

Many of your works have a very emotional and narrative charge. What role does narrative play in your music?

— It's central. I never remember writing a piece without some sort of narrative thread. Even if there's no text, there's a structure, an inner story. For me, narrative can be like the scaffolding of a building: it supports the structure while it's being built, but then it can be removed and the work stands on its own.

And the human voice? How did you discover its potential?

— It was following the premiere of Mirror of perfection, in 1995. It premiered with students from the Royal College of Music, and I thought it would be the first and last time. But it was a huge success, played at the Royal Festival Hall, and then I started getting choral commissions all over the world. Voices of Exile, Not in our time and then Pietan.

Voices of Exile It's a very socially and politically committed piece. What is your commitment to your time as an artist?

— Part of the role of an artist, of a composer, is to bear witness to what's happening in the world. We must denounce the misfortunes and unjust situations people experience through music, poetry, film, and theater. Pietan, which uses texts by Anna Akhmatova. But for me, it wasn't just a work about Mary, the mother of Jesus, holding her dead son. I wrote it while bombs were being dropped on Syria. I distinctly remember seeing chilling images of a mother holding her child. And I thought, "That's the Pietà of our time." This is the motivation for much of my music. A recent example, perhaps the most optimistic I've ever written, is a piece inspired by the novel Orbital, by Samantha HarveyIt's a work for metal bands that will be performed by hundreds of bands across Europe. It celebrates the beauty and fragility of the planet and invites us to put our human struggles into perspective from a broader perspective.

Do you think contemporary music is still difficult for the general public?

— A lot has changed. Ten years ago, a contemporary premiere could put off audiences, but now new music is more communicative and engaging. The hard avant-garde of the 1960s and 1970s and radical serialism have been left behind. I have no problem naming names: for example, Pierre Boulez, who is probably one of the great musicians of the 20th century and an extraordinary conductor with a prodigious ear, but who had a musical aesthetic completely opposed to what I advocate. Because, for me, a composer's mission is to communicate, to reach people emotionally. It's not just about the head, but about a balance between the head and the heart. And this is what I try to achieve.