Jacques Forestier on Song and Dance

Released on Warner Classics at the end of last month, the young Canadian violinist Jacques Forestier's debut album Song and Dance received four stars in The Guardian thanks to the 'quiet and beguiling eloquence' and 'persuasive rhythmic poise' on display in a programme which includes Brahms's Violin Sonata No. 1, Bartók's Romanian Folk Dances, Heinrich Ernst's fiendish unaccompanied Grand Caprice after Schubert's 'Erlkönig', and Jascha Heifetz's transcriptions of three numbers from Gershwin's Porgy & Bess.

Shortly after enjoying a rare spell of downtime in Japan and Korea with friends, Jacques spoke to me about the life-changing impact of his victory at the 2024 Joseph Joachim International Violin Competition, the array of new skills which he had to develop at top-speed as part of his preparations for the contest, why he believes that variety is the spice of life on several levels, and how he 'tries to stay pure' in a fast-paced digital world...

The Joseph Joachim Competition is different from a lot of others in terms of requiring candidates to demonstrate so many contrasting facets of musicianship…

Indeed, and what I love about it is that it really represents the life that many of us are going to have in the future. These days it’s rare to find a musician who only does concertos or solo recitals: you have to be able to play chamber music, to curate a programme on short notice, to lead orchestras or chamber ensembles, to learn contemporary repertoire at speed…The Competition makes you demonstrate every possible style of musicianship so that the jury can see who’s capable of taking on all these things. I was nineteen at the time, and I’d never done anything quite like it. I had some experience in most of the types of playing but pulling it all together within such a tight timeframe really took my preparation and commitment as a musician to a different level. 

What was the most challenging component for you?

The whole idea of play-leading was very new for me. I’d only ever done concertos with a conductor, but I had played a lot of chamber music, so I thought of it as just merging those two approaches. I’ve been able to do a lot more of it since the Competition, play-leading concertos in Poland, Hong Kong and Germany, but I still find it challenging. It’s a whole new art, because you need to take on the role of conductor in terms of how you communicate. As well as figuring out how much to show in terms of body language in the performance itself, you have to learn how to steer a rehearsal effectively: what to say and when to say it, what not to say, when to let the orchestra figure something out themselves. 

And it can be quite intimidating, especially as a young musician – you're in a room full of people you don’t know, perhaps rehearsing in a different language, and you have to work out how you’re going to fit in with everybody. I spoke to a lot of my mentors about it, and they all said that the key is to keep talking...as long as you’re not standing there in silence, you're on the right track! There’s something in that, but you don’t want to waste everyone’s time by rambling about irrelevant things, and you need to sound intelligent but not pretentious. It all takes time to develop but play-leading is the ultimate test of knowing a piece, and for that reason I want to keep doing more of it.

Did you get much chance to try it out in a low-pressure setting as you were preparing for the Competition?

As happens so often, life got in the way...I had such a busy summer in the run-up to the Competition that I didn’t have much space for dry runs. Ideally, I would've got some friends together to play through the Mozart concerto so I could practise play-directing, but I didn’t have the luxury of time on my side! It was my first experience of playing the piece with orchestra at all, so that was a brand-new experience in every sense. 

The Bartók Divertimento which I had to lead wasn’t quite uncharted territory: I’d played it with a string orchestra the previous year, so I knew how that felt in the ensemble even if the solos and directing were new. It was reassuring to have that element of familiarity when so many other things were completely fresh!

It was my first major international competition, and I think that helped in terms of my attitude because I didn’t feel like I had anything to prove. But I don’t think anyone actively enjoys playing in competitions! It's a very stressful environment, no matter how much you focus on the right things and enjoy all the component parts.  I wouldn’t anticipate doing anything like that in the future unless I absolutely have to! 

How did you select the repertoire for your debut recording on Warner?

I think versatility is one of my strengths, so I wanted a programme that would showcase different parts of my personality rather than just recording all the Brahms sonatas or an entire album of aria transcriptions. I went with the Song & Dance concept because it exemplifies two of the very distinct areas that we need to develop as musicians: beautiful cantabile playing, and the energy and rhythmic clarity of dance. 

As well as showcasing those two elements of musicianship, that framing also allowed me to incorporate music from a wide range of styles, eras and cultural backgrounds. I knew that I wanted to include some American music because I’ve studied in the US for four years, but I was also keen to bring in Polish, Hungarian, Austro-German repertoire - hence Wieniawski, Bartók, Brahms and Schubert!

Where did you study before that move to the US?

I was two years old when I started playing. My parents are both musicians – my mother’s a violinist who grew up in Glasgow and moved to Canada as a teenager. I studied with her for ten years and she was an amazing teacher – she made me fall in love with the violin and she’s still such a supportive presence in my life. She was an absolute rock during the recording sessions: I came down with food poisoning the night before we left, but she helped me to power through! She comes to all my dress rehearsals and concerts, and there’s nobody I can trust like her: I lose such a valuable perspective on what I’m doing when she isn’t present. 

Was it difficult to move onto a new teacher when the time came?

Those ten years with my mother were amazing, but eventually we decided it was time for a change: once you hit your teens it can be hard to take instruction from someone who’s so close to you, and I think it’s a good idea to switch teachers every so often anyway. So when I was twelve, I enrolled on a pre-college programme at the Mount Royal Conservatory in Calgary, which is about three hours away from home – mum drove me there every Monday, and we did chamber music, collaborative piano work, a studio class, lessons, guest masterclasses, the works! It was great to belong to a community of like-minded individuals after years of just practising at home, and it also opened up the world of chamber music which has become an integral part of my life. 

Those five years were a pivotal period for me and there was a nice sense of continuity because my mother sat in on all my lessons and took notes for me to revisit when I was practising at home – at twelve you’re not usually the keenest note-taker! I think the transition worked well and everything evolved in a healthy way.

Which violinists have particularly inspired you?

I’ve spent the past four years studying at the Curtis Institute with Pam Frank, who’s become a close friend and absolute inspiration. I’m generally drawn to musicians who really have something to say, because I want to be intellectually stimulated when I listen to music. I don’t just want to hear beautiful sound, great intonation and lovely vibrato - all those things should be there, but great musicianship operates on a higher level than that. 

There are so many wonderful violinists out there and we’re fortunate to live in an era when we can access their recordings in seconds, but I generally avoid listening to recordings of pieces I’m actively working on. I do it for enjoyment and pleasure but when I’m learning something it’s very easy to become subconsciously influenced by what you're hearing, and being clouded by other influences is one of the biggest roadblocks for young musicians. 

Take a piece like the Mendelssohn concerto, which has been recorded thousands of times. Even without listening to a specific recording, we come to it with a preconceived idea of how it ‘should’ be played...but sometimes you have to go back and ask yourself if it’s actually what he wrote and what he wanted. Things often get a bit distorted over time, so it’s important to go back to the source before you listen to any recordings - otherwise as Pam says we all become like sheep, regurgitating the same ideas with our own twist.

I think it’s so important for the future of music that our generation don’t lose sight of how to prepare a piece without a reference recording, because otherwise how are we going to make a persuasive case for new works or for pieces that have been rediscovered? That’s why I always try to stay pure throughout the whole preparation process!

Speaking of 'staying pure', how are you navigating the attention and workload that's come your way since the competition? Has it become more challenging to carve out time and space for yourself these days?

A lot of people don’t like to talk about this, but I think it’s so important to build boundaries in our lives. It's especially tough for musicians, because we’re so in love with what we do that it can be difficult to create downtime and personal space. But it’s vital to prioritise that, so I try to set myself a time-limit for whatever I’m working on. I allocate a certain number of hours to figure out a particular piece or section, then I make myself mentally move on and enjoy an evening with people that I love - nothing fancy, just hanging with friends or watching a movie. 

If you base your identity and self-worth on how you sound today or how you played last night, you begin to have a toxic relationship with your instrument which can be very dangerous. I've drifted into dangerous waters there myself, so now I try very carefully to keep things separate and schedule time off. I just spent ten days in Japan and Korea, with my friends and without my violin, and even though I felt completely out of shape when I got back it's so important to enjoy all that life has to offer away from your instrument. We’re so lucky to do what we do, but there’s a whole other side of life out there!

That feeds into my approach to social media too:  it’s become so important in crafting a career these days, but I don’t think it’s necessary to fall too far down that rabbit hole and start documenting every single area of your life, musical or otherwise.

Tell me a little about the instrument you currently play...

I have a beautiful Guadagnini (c.1765) on a three-year loan from the Fritz Behrens Foundation, although that’s not the violin I’m playing on the recording. I knew straight away that it was a wonderful instrument, but it was also incredibly temperamental – every few weeks there would be cracks or open seams, and after six or seven months with it I approached the foundation and explained what was going on. My luthier on the East Coast suggested some changes, so I left it in Hannover for six months over the summer and they completely restored the instrument. 

Curtis was kind enough to loan me another Guadagnini from two years later for the recording; my mother and I went to pick up the original Guad the day after the sessions and it was like a totally different instrument. Every time I play it, I feel so lucky because it has this magical sound quality; two years into the relationship I feel like I’m only just understanding how to play it, which is bittersweet because we only have another year left together!