Kirsten Fehring Classical Music Consultancy

Not going solo!

Tue, 07 Apr 2026 00:36:44 -0700

You start with an idea. An ensemble. A festival. A choir. And then you bounce it around — friends are enthusiastic, colleagues offer advice, your family (always) believes in you. There is warmth and momentum. But there is also that small, persistent voice: Does the world really need another quartet? Another festival or ensemble?

And yet — we know it does. Because what we need are more tangible, enjoyable creative moments and gatherings in our lives, more music that happens in a room, with other people, that cannot be streamed or scrolled past. We cannot have enough of that.

However, a lot of exciting ideas fail — but not because the music wasn’t extraordinary, or the vision not vivid enough. They fail because of the conditions under which they were meant to emerge and live on.

Funding, grants, institutional frameworks, and other existing structures are not neutral backdrops. They actively determine what becomes possible and shape which ideas survive their first few years, and which quietly disappear.

What we should not do is simply accept these conditions; instead, we should learn to shape them from the get-go. So, don’t ask how this idea can be financed, and start asking how this idea or project can be designed so that it can find its place in a sustainable network - as a piece of a larger puzzle?

Most of the time, I arrive late. Not because I wasn't invited earlier — but because that's simply not how it tends to work. By the time an ensemble calls me for a chat, they have usually been going for five or six years. They have recordings, reviews, a growing reputation, a small but loyal audience. They have also, almost certainly, a website that was built by a friend in 2021, a bio that hasn't been updated properly, and a nagging sense that something in their communication isn't quite hitting the spot — that the outside world's idea of who they are doesn't fully match the inside world's reality.

They know something needs to change. That's why they called. And then, not infrequently, something else happens.

We have the conversation, agree on what the work should be, the scope makes sense, and there is genuine enthusiasm for getting this done properly. And then a tour comes up, or a recording project that needs financing, or a venue deposit that can't wait. And the brand work — which has no hard deadline and no contractual obligation attached to it ... gets pushed.

I've heard every version and I do understand the logic. The tour and invoices are real, and brand strategy feels, at that particular moment, like something that can wait. In an industry, where financial margins are thin and artistic opportunities have to be seized when they appear, deferring the less urgent thing makes sense.

But it's also short-sighted.

Imagine two musicians. Both are extraordinary. Both have built something remarkable — a career as principal violin, a festival running for a decade, an ensemble that has toured internationally. One of them has a website that puts their face front and centre. Their bio reads like a confident manifesto. They post their reviews. They claim their work, loudly and without apology.

The other musician — and you may recognise her — keeps a tidy, modest website. Mostly repertoire and dates, some reviews. The bio reads like a CV. The photos are small, or not quite up to date. The festival she founded? Her name is somewhere buried in the About page.

The second musician is often a woman.

I have worked in and around the classical music world for many years now — in arts sponsorship, project management, touring, branding. And the pattern is so consistent it has stopped surprising me, though it never stops bothering me: talented, high-achieving women in this industry routinely under-represent themselves online and in their professional communications. Not out of laziness or ignorance. I think it is something more complicated than that, and well know to most of us.

The imposter monster rears its ugly head!

And there is one more thing — one that rarely gets named, but that almost every freelance musician will recognise. This is a small world. The same conductors, the same fixers, the same collegues, season after season. Your livelihood depends not just on how well you play, but on being easy to work with, undemanding, grateful. Putting yourself forward — really forward, with confidence and without apology — can feel like a disruption to a very delicate ecosystem. So you don't, because...Read More

Linernotes

Fri, 09 Jan 2026 02:21:26 -0800

I am listening …

I recently discovered the new recording Fortissima by cellist Raphaela Gromes and pianist Julian Riem, all about forgotten women composer. Gromes takes the idea of liner notes to the extreme (in a good way) and has published a book alongside her album Fortissima! Marginalized Women Composers and How They Change My Perspective on the World (together with Susanne Wosnitzka). Album and book form a unique piece of music and text that gives long-forgotten female composers the attention they deserve. Through this project, I’ve been introduced to Luise Adolpha le Beau (1850-1927), who has only recently begun to be performed more widely. She was, in fact, Composer of the Week just over a year ago on the BBC for the first time (downloadable only in the UK https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0k8mhxm). I just listened to her fabulous Cello Sonata in D Major, op 17.

Or consider this fabulous cello concerto by Marie Jaëll (1846-1925), a composer I had never encountered before either.

Born in 1846, Jaëll was a pianist...Read More

Stranger

Tue, 28 Oct 2025 01:44:19 -0700

I had a wonderfully topical week recently. I read a fantastic essay on translation and went to an album launch in London - it turned out that there were many common threads to discover and mull over.

I am reading…

The book is called ‘Fremdsprechen’, by Esther Kinsky. You could translate the title as speaking foreign, or speaking foreign languages, if you like a more direct, no-nonsense approach. You might like to try stranger-tongued, if you are poetically inclined. All I can say is that this conundrum is precisely the topic of the book, written by a German author, poet, and translator.

Drawing from her own experiences as a translator and interpreter, Kinsky examines how the images in our minds change through the constant act of renaming, and how memory influences the ideas, feelings and the power we assign to words and thus affect the countless word choices made during translation.

She explores how we become acquainted with a foreign language, first on a collective level and then on a more personal one, developing an individual relationship with these new words and phrases.

The gap between the familiar and the strange might gradually narrow when learning and living within a foreign...Read More

Zuversicht

Mon, 18 Aug 2025 02:08:13 -0700

I am thinking about

the beautiful German word Zuversicht. It carries a depth that cannot be fully captured by a single English term. It combines optimism, confidence, trust, hope, and faith - and for me, it also implies a good portion of engagement and direct action, something I know I need to practice more to counter both a personal and the seemingly global sense of gloom.

Historically, the word Zuversicht was rooted in trust in God and religious faith. Over time, however, its meaning expanded and shifted toward a more active quality: confidence in oneself and one’s abilities.

An early example of these changes in meaning can be found in the 17th century within the story of Reineke Fox (1) (1650), where Zuversicht is described as a quality of courage and wit. The Brothers Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm's dictionary records the following lines (2):

Etymologically, the word itself derives from “sich versehen,” meaning “to rely on someone” or “to trust in,” which naturally points to a positive view of the future. In this sense, Zuversicht is not a passive belief, but an outlook that combines trust with the readiness to act.

I am thinking about ...

(and falling asleep over) musician bios, and I read a lot of them. Yes, my subtitle is a little provocative - but the truth is, I’m rarely drawn in. Rarely curious to meet the person behind the words. Rarely left with a sense of how their life experiences might shape their interpretation of the music they perform. Most bios read like polished résumés: exam results, competition wins, recordings, prestigious venues, orchestras, projects. These are all valid and amazing accomplishments, but they often miss the mark when printed in a concert programme, written for a mixed audience. What’s so often absent is the person behind the music.

More and more performers today speak directly to their audiences before and during a concert, creating a connection that can deepen the experience of the music. But not everyone is a natural speaker. That’s where a thoughtful programme note can help - or, if the performer does not have a say in that, a bio is a powerful opportunity.

A bio can be more than a list of milestones. It is an opportunity to offer a glimpse of the person behind the performer. A bio can offer a detail, a perspective, or a story that helps the audience hear the music with a deeper sense of who the artists is. I’d say: Make it personal.

(And yes, if you’d like, list professional highlights - just don’t let them be the whole story.)

I love ...

this concept: The Royal Swedish Opera in Stockholm has just presented the fifth edition of Short...Read More

Amplify

Fri, 28 Mar 2025 06:54:36 -0700

I am listening to …
music from the trptk catalogue, which a friend suggested to me, and it is outstanding. There’s so much amazing music and beautifully curated tracklists to be discovered in each genre, though the borders are fluid as you might expect from such a label. Their state-of-the-art recording techniques are impressive and have such an immersive draw, pulling you in.
I listened to the album Breathmark, by pianist Suejin Jung, and her take on Jaroslaw Kapuśińcski’s audio-visual composition Side Effect. The music follows ten short videos, each shot 150 meters above ground in Poland by photographer and pilot Kacper Kowalski.
You can find the images on Kapuśińcski’s website together with the music or hear it on the trptk’s page. And whilst you are there, don’t miss Until heard, the opening track of this album, which I think somehow summarises the ethos of this label.
Read More