ROrderic Williams, 58, was born in London in 1965 to a Welsh father and Jamaican mother and is one of this country's best-loved baritone singers, singing around the world and appearing on many recordings. He has also performed at the coronation ceremonies of kings as a soloist and composer. He is married with three children and lives in Warwickshire. He plans to perform Schubert's last piece on October 11th. ShwanengesanWith pianist Natalie Burch, Opening the Oxford International Song Festival.
When did you know you could sing?
It's quite early. When I was in elementary school, there was a wonderful music teacher in my hometown who taught me piano, recorder, and singing. Singing was one of the things we did, along with soccer and math. From an early age, I considered it a part of life. Especially because my brother was a chorister at Christ Church Cathedral School in Oxford. I also decided to go there soon. But it wasn't until much later, in my mid-twenties, when I became a teacher, that I thought about becoming a professional singer.
What was family life like growing up in Barnet, north London?
I was very lucky. Little did I realize how lucky I was to be part of a stable, loving family with two parents, two brothers (I'm the middle one), and a lot of music making. My father was a management consultant, but by no means typical. He taught himself classical guitar and sang for his own entertainment at home. He could still quote long passages from Shakespeare, and his study was filled with books of poetry and plays, some of them very modern. I mean, they were all available to me since I was a kid. My mother came from Jamaica in the 1960s. She was a modern, intelligent woman who wanted to pursue her intellectual interests as a linguist. She and my father met on a train in France. He noticed that she was reading a novel in English. That was it.
It was Are your parents ambitious or pushy towards you?
Not at all. They were very supportive of all of us, but they were never helicopter parents. They let us keep it going. At the same time, they taxied us energetically, never complained and always encouraged us.
Have you encountered racism?
No, this is my own lived experience and I was lucky. The school was always friendly. One boy sometimes called me Sambo, but neither he nor I really understood what that meant, so it sounded like a term of endearment and never worried me. When I was a student at Oxford, I remember waiting at traffic lights on a high street and the driver of a passing van rolled down his window and shouted the N-word. I laughed. It was an ineffective barb. I thought it was odd that he would go out of his way to close the window just to yell a few words at me… I guess I was lucky that I was as ignorant as these guys at the time. I was told that that meant I couldn't understand what they were saying. Their words had no effect on me.
You benefited from the cathedral choral tradition. Do boys still want to sing? Women are now allowed to participate in many university choirs, but is there a risk that women will become the mainstream in the future?
I don't know for sure, but I've heard anecdotally that as more girls join these choirs, boys drop out. But if girls have been dominant for a while, why not? After centuries of neglect, it's about time. What I regret is that there seems to be very little group singing, as it used to be at school assemblies. Nowadays, people only seem to know the same handful of hymns at weddings and funerals…
How do you deal with the physical fragility of your voice?
I'm a human being first and a singer second. I don't want to wrap my body in cotton wool. I'm sure you once heard a singer say this at a party. You can sing within 3 days! ” So I try not to be precious. That said, I don't drink a pint of milk before a concert. Some foods, especially dairy products, are said to increase mucus, which basically makes your vocal cords feel like they're covered in gunge. I try to make wise decisions and take care of myself as well as others. And avoid noisy restaurants or parties where you have to shout to be heard. It's a voice killer. I think I'm very aware of what condition my vocal cords are in. The first thing I do every morning when I wake up is clear my throat and see what's going on…
If I lose my voice, can a doctor help me?
I don't know. I have never seen a specialist for my voice. Fortunately, I haven't had to do that yet. I've heard stories of people being injected with things like steroids in an emergency to get through a show. But it sounds like a bit of a Faustian pact, the dark arts. Apparently you can actually physically pay for it the next day. As solo singers, we are all freelance. If you don't sing, you don't get paid. There is no sick pay. So there is an incentive to keep fighting if possible…
Classical music has multiple problems, including cuts, attention to programming, and lack of music education.
One of the big issues or concerns right now is that classical music (with a capital C) is not relevant. The most powerful message is when politicians, especially the prime minister himself, go to concerts because they love music. I wish the old days of singing recitals meant someone would come in wearing a white tie and black tails, never address the audience, and just “show off their art”. Recitals feel completely different now. When singing Schubert’s cycle of songs – something like that. Winter Rise – I like to talk a little to the audience first. You might talk about mental health or what you're thinking about that day. This is not a music analysis, but a way to share my perspective on what we are about to experience.
In addition to performing, you are also a composer…
I grew up doing a lot of amateur music production at home, so I had endless opportunities to arrange things for my family, including three descant recorders (which made a lot of noise!) and voices and guitars. It was always a great opportunity when there were people around who needed musical arrangements or new pieces to perform, such as at home, school, university, and when I became a teacher. What's different now is that serious people are asking me to write music. I'm so glad you asked! So I have to find the time…now I'm often on the train, on the plane, or in a hotel room between concerts.
you'vYou talked about the idea of a playlist for the dying, inspired by your own choral music. cusp…What are your own choices?
There's no shortage of music for funerals, but what about for someone nearing the end of their life? when I was writing cusp My palliative care nurse told me about this idea and I've been thinking about it ever since. My own choices might be Mahler's Symphony No. 2 and Duruflé's Requiem. Not for religious reasons, but because these were music that had a huge influence on me when I was a teenager, and I've never forgotten the feelings they evoked in me.
What's your favorite song lately?
For now, I'd have to say it's the work of British composer Madeleine Dolling. Take O Take These Lips – Shakespeare’s words. It's a real banger.
