24 hours with Miriam Butler
Mediterranean at heart
The deep, earthy sound of a bassoon is given life in Cyprus by the orchestra’s player, who also composes for a quartet
‘As the planes hit the World Trade Center on 9/11, I grabbed my bassoon and ran’
There are many different directions that Miriam Butler, Sub-Principal Bassoonist with the Cyprus State Orchestra, could have taken. Born in Australia in the 1970s to a piano teaching mother she says, “From being a tiny tot, I cannot remember not having music in my life”.
Brought up in Tasmania she went to an all-girl school and says if she has children she’ll send her daughter to one: without the competition from boys, girls get encouraged to try everything. Her own school orchestra needed a bassoon player. Already a good pianist and clarinettist it was her music teacher – Mr. Honey, who they nicknamed ‘Vegemite’ because you can spread it on toast – who inspired her to try the instrument. He believed that instruments suit personalities. You have to be prepared to stand out from the crowd as a bassoonist; you need to be physically fit, it takes a lot of puff; and you have to love the deep, dark, earthy sound it produces. Bassoonists need to be spirited.
Miriam took to it, but even today, after years of practice, she needs to keep fit to play. It needs strong diaphragm muscles to develop the breath to sustain long sequences. Before a performance she tries to have a yoga class. Yoga is good preparation for playing, both psychologically and physically.
Although she knew that music would always be part of her life, Miriam played in the National Youth Orchestra, she originally intended to become an architect, and completed a degree in Environmental Design at the University of Tasmania. Her first job took her to Sydney to work on a Housing Project while simultaneously studying under scholarship at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music with Gordon Skinner.
Miriam laughs as she remembers the problems caused by living in a small apartment and trying to practise. It’s a loud noise she produces, and later, when she was studying in Germany, she would be controlled by “ant-social” noise regulations allowing her only to play between the hours of 9 to 1.
After five years musicial hard study at the Sydney Conservatorium, gaining a second degree in Music, she was awarded a Queen’s Trust Scolarship for post-graduate studies in Europe. She decided to go to Germany, “the homeland of the bassoon”, and makers of the famous Heckel Bassoon with its unique sound.
There’s a five-year waiting list for a Heckel and at a cost of £20,000 they do not come cheap. The maple woods used are naturally dried for longer than 12 years. Each one is individually made and customised to the player. With their rich tone they are generally regarded as the best bassoons in the world. They will last a life time and Miriam ordered one, ready for the long wait. But she was in luck, two that had been ordered by Korea were not needed, they had been designed for players with small hands, Miriam was asked to go and try them. She found the perfect instrument.
Years later, on September 11, 2001 at 9.46am Miriam was in New York two blocks away from the World Trade Center. There was a terrible noise, her flat shook and filled with dust, a neighbour ran in telling her to get out, a few minutes later another explosion rocked her building. We often wonder what we would take in an emergency. Miriam grabbed her passport and her Heckel bassoon.
Those moments and the aftermath of the disaster have had a deep impact on Miriam. They reinforce the fragility of life, and have given her a deep determination to make the most of all opportunities. “The more I do the more I can do,” she explains.
Like many routes in life, her appointment to the Cyprus State Orchestra, was not particularly planned. Having worked and studied in Italy, America and Germany, it was time to look for a permanent orchestral position. She went on to the internet, to a website that advertises positions in orchestras world wide. There were jobs all round the globe but Cyprus caught her eye. “I’m Mediterrranean at heart,” she says.
Since 2003 she has been here on the island playing and teaching. She currently tutors four young students, from local schools, funded by the Ministry of Education. She’s delighted at nurturing their talent and that the country owns six bassoons.
Nowadays, her time is filled with rehearsals in the mornings, teaching in the afternoons and organising the numerous projects she has in hand. She plays in and directs an all female quartet called Opus 4, and has recently performed on the film score of Mary staring Juliette Binoche. She also finds time for solo practice and to make her reeds.
At a cost of £20 a piece, reeds for the bassoon are expensive and Miriam prefers to import French cane and make her own. Each reed can produce a different sound quality and takes days to produce. She painstakingly cuts, binds and trims the cane to make the double reed mouthpieces. Not surprising that she rarely gets to bed before midnight.
She describes the bassoon as an, “endangered instrument species”. It is her desire to take the instrument beyond the orchestral, to reveal its true, dark, energetic and adventurous personality. She is currently working on using the instrument with computer generated sound, composing her own pieces, boldly going where no one has gone before. Her old music teacher, ‘Mr. Vegemite’ would be proud, he definitely put the right girl with the bassoon.
