Ever since I acquired my first descant recorder, at the age of seven, I had my eyes on the next sizes up and down, the treble and the sopranino, and my sister has never let me forget how ‘recklessly’ I spent virtually every penny of my holiday pocket money on day two, when we stopped off in York and my father took me to Banks music shop, but I was so happy with my new tenor recorder! As soon as I took up the flute, I wanted a piccolo! This curiosity has led to a lifetime quest for different voices, different colours, and my interest in historical performance has opened up many more possibilities. I’m actually not sure how many instruments I own now, but I think it is over fifty.
All my nineteenth-century instruments are originals, mostly acquired at auction. That in itself can be a traumatic experience! However, the further back in time you go, the harder it is to find any originals which are in playing condition, at a pitch we have now chosen, at an affordable price. So almost all of my earlier instruments are copies, made by fine craftsmen. I console myself that back in the eighteenth century, these flutes were newly invented, so everyone played on new instruments!
Playing all these different instruments poses certain challenges, most obviously the huge variety of fingering systems, essentially requiring one to maintain multilingual fluency. However, adapting the way one blows to coax the best out of each different model calls for a great degree of subtlety and sensitivity. Many instruments respond better if they are played regularly, so planning ahead and managing the playing-in period is crucial, as well as finding time to practise several projects ahead.
Please don’t ask me to say which is my favourite: that would be like having to choose your favourite child! However, some of them stand out as wonderfully fine examples, including two from the 1830s and 1840s; my beautiful 10-keyed simple-system flute made by Godfroy l’aîné in Paris (right), which I have used for many Schubert and Schumann symphonies, is so elegant, with its slender bore and fine keys, whilst the sturdier English Rudall & Rose 1832 (early) Boehm system flute is simply handsome!
I am incredibly lucky to possess one particular simple-system flute (below) that is a landmark in the history of the flute. We believe this is the flute used by the German flautist, Theobald Boehm, when he visited London in 1831. His performance was favourably reviewed, noting his musicality and virtuosity, but observed that ‘he couldn’t match our Charles Nicholson for his tone’! Actually his sound was sweet and beautiful, but Nicholson was famous for his rich ‘oboe tones’. He played on a similar simple-system instrument but with much larger holes, making it easier to force the sound if he wanted. Boehm went to hear Nicholson and was so struck, that he immediately went to a flute-maker’s workshop to experiment. He himself admitted that, had he not heard Nicholson play, the modern ‘Boehm flute’ would never have been invented.
Although my flute was deemed too soft, it is one of the finest simple system flutes ever made, with exceptional craftsmanship. When I first encountered this flute, it was love at first sight - I didn’t sleep at all that night! It is a joy to play and I have used it in the orchestra when we have performed Beethoven at A=438.
💿 Tutz Grenser flute and Rudall & Rose 1832 flute:
Of my many wonderful newly-made instruments, two stand out in particular, both made by Rudolf Tutz in Austria. Many years ago, I asked him to make me a 2-keyed Quantz flute, with a wide bore, favouring the low register, and the two adjacent keys for D sharp and E flat, (which enables the player to differentiate between enharmonic notes throughout the instrument). I specially asked for an instrument at low pitch (A=392) in ebony, but Rudi was insistent he would make two, the other in boxwood, and we would start with a shorter centre piece for A=415. He named them ‘Carreras’ and 'Pavarotti'! In the end I chose the boxwood ‘Pavarotti’, and with that flute I went on to unearth, perform, record and publish so much unknown music by Quantz, which had been composed for the private use of King Frederick the Great of Prussia, and had never been performed since.
💿 Quantz flute:
I visited Tutz a number of times in Innsbrück, and came to love and admire him. He was famously unreliable, but once started, he would work tirelessly, sometimes through the night, with the creativity and inspiration of a true craftsman. I was by his side when both the Quantz flute and my classical Grenser were made. It was like being at their birth. He worked best like this, listening to the player and translating what he heard to make fine adjustments. Even before it was finished, I adored my Grenser flute. In fact, I only commissioned that instrument after I had put as much money as I could raise (including twisting my bank manager’s arm for a loan), yet failed to bid high enough at auction to secure an original Grenser instrument. I was heartbroken, but the experience of playing it before the sale confirmed in my mind that my dream instrument was possible. Rudi Tutz passed away a few years ago, but to this day, I thank him from the bottom of my heart for giving me my voice.
Rachel Brown, May 2024
