John Rink: on the Faculty, retirement, and the future of British academic music studies

For nearly two decades, Professor John Rink has been a central figure in the Faculty of Music. A pianist and Chopin-specialist, John recently retired from teaching duties, becoming an Emeritus Professor. We are very sad to see him go, and we thought the interview below might offer you a chance to reconnect with John, to rekindle your memories of his passion for research, and, and to touch on thoughts about music education today.

Many reading this will remember classes and supervisions in performance studies, analysis and, of course, Chopin. Prof. Rink has led the field in these areas, enthusing an inspiring generations of students with his historic keyboards, his passion for historic recordings, and his enduring mission to support music performance at the Faculty.

Performance in the Tripos has grown, now spanning all levels of our curriculum – undergraduate and postgraduate. And John has been one of its staunchest advocates, so it seems fitting that he continues to bridge the worlds of performance and scholarship, serving as a juror at the International Chopin Competition.

I caught up with John for a chat, and put some questions to him.

- David Trippett, Chair, Faculty of Music.

What is your first memory of the Faculty of Music? 

I first visited the Faculty in 1985 when I was about to apply for my PhD. I remember finding the place empty – like a ghost town. After matriculating in October that year, I eventually returned to the Faculty and once again found the place empty – like a ghost town! In those days, people tended to work in their colleges or in one or more libraries, and I myself spent most of my time in the UL, rather than on West Road. I did however make good use of the Pendlebury Library, and I also supervised undergraduates in Faculty lecture rooms.  

Every time I walk into the foyer just outside the Pendlebury, I am struck that it smells exactly the same as it did 40 years ago! Why that should be is not obvious: one might understand why library books exude the same scent, but the foyer’s enduring aroma is a source of mystery. 

In many ways, your work has centred around the music of Chopin.  When did this love of Chopin’s music first take root, and has your relationship to Chopin’s music changed through your career?

My interest in and love for Chopin started in early adolescence, when I began tackling some big pieces like the second Scherzo. Later, when I studied piano at the Guildhall School of Music as a postgraduate, I began playing more of his repertoire and found myself completely hooked. When the time came to choose a topic for my PhD, I initially thought of Brahms, who remains a great favourite, but I was persuaded to switch to Debussy by my eventual PhD supervisor, Alexander Goehr. The decision to work on Chopin was reached during the summer before I began in Cambridge, and since then I have never looked back. My PhD was on the influence of improvisation on Chopin’s early music, and I used a particular theoretical approach to trace the development of tonal structure in this under-appreciated repertoire. Since then, I have broadened out to just about every aspect of Chopin that might be studied, including style, performance history, reception in general, source studies (both manuscripts and early editions), and so forth. I continue to play and teach his music both in individual lessons and in master classes, and quite a lot of jury work has also come up during the last decade or so, including three stints on the jury of the Chopin Competition in Warsaw. I always find something new in Chopin’s music and cannot imagine that I will ever lose my passion for it. 

You are a pianist, and have worked closely with performers as juror, pedagogue, and in establishing this as a central part this into the Music Tripos.

My first job after leaving Cambridge in 1988 was a postdoctoral fellowship in Newcastle, which turned into a lectureship during my second year there. I devised a course that year called ‘Performance Studies’, with sections devoted to historical, analytical and psychological research on performance. It dawned on me one night that I might edit a book along the very same lines, and indeed I published one of the first-ever volumes in this area in 1995. Since then, performance studies has burgeoned in music, theatre studies, and so on. With its long history in the scholarly study of performance and its unrivalled reputation as a performing environment, Cambridge was the ideal place to host the AHRC Research Centre for Musical Performance as a Creative Practice, which I directed for five years starting in 2009. It has been a joy for me to teach the second-year ‘Introduction to Performance Studies’ paper since its inception some 15 years ago, and especially to watch our superbly talented performers gain the ability to articulate what underlies their own performances or those of others. 

John receiving the Bene Merito medal at the Fryderyk Chopin Museum in Warsaw, 2021

If an alien landed in West Road and asked ‘what is performance studies’, how you would respond?

This scenario more or less happened in real life about fifteen years ago! The then-Chancellor of the University, Prince Philip, was touring a number of departments on his last official visit to Cambridge in that role. I was installed in the Recital Room as one of the exhibits in the Music Faculty showcase. When I was presented, it was explained that I worked on performance studies among other things. ‘What’s that?!’, he shot back sceptically. I explained that work in the field endeavours to reveal what happens in the act of performance, how we experience it both as performers and as listeners, how performances take shape over time, and so forth. I showed him a facsimile of one of Chopin’s manuscripts and demonstrated at the piano how the notation only hinted at how the music might be performed, and that a huge amount of agency rests with performers not only in terms of how a composer’s ideas might be realised but also in respect of how they themselves co-create the music they’re playing or singing. That understanding of performance as an act of creation is in essence what lies at the heart of the field of performance studies. 

At Cambridge you have taught many courses on Chopin and performance studies. Is there something particular about Cambridge students, and have you adapted teaching to them?

I remember thinking when I left Cambridge in 1988 to begin my post in Newcastle that I would probably never encounter better students than I had just been supervising alongside my PhD research. Although I had some superb students in the intervening years before returning to Cambridge in 2009, it is certainly the case that the ones here have been especially inspiring to work with. My first impressions in 2009 were not entirely positive, however: I had the sense that the members of my Part II lecture course were testing me before deciding whether I capable of teaching them anything at all! The great joy for me is that I do not need to stop working with Cambridge students now that I’ve retired from the University: I’ve already had opportunities to supervise in small groups and to work with them in other ways too. Long may that continue! 

You are now Emeritus, but continue to be occupied with St. John’s and the Chopin competition. Do you have particular plans for retirement? 

In addition to supervising students, I’m carrying on as Co-Director of Studies and with other college duties such as Council and ‘subject leadership’. Outside Cambridge, I have a range of research pursuits, including writing articles and chapters for edited volumes, as well as my OUP book Performing Chopin. I’m also Editor-in-Chief of a critical edition of Chopin which has been under way for about 30 years. On top of that there is professional activity such as research evaluation, keynote papers, other forms of lecturing, piano performance, and teaching individually and in masterclass contexts. So ‘retirement’ is not the best way to characterise my life at present, nor do I sense that I will downing tools for years to come. I have to admit, however, that it is thrilling to be liberated from university admin and from endless meetings. 

What is the future for the study of music in the UK? 

It has been a source of distress to watch university music in this country suffer one attack after the other in recent years. Quite a few departments have closed or are under threat, and this is in the wake of earlier closures, some of which pre-date my entry into the profession back in 1988. The situation is particularly tragic because of the exceptionally high quality of musical study in UK universities over generations. It is hard to feel optimistic about what might lie ahead, but I do have great faith in the resilience of colleagues in the profession and in our potential ability to convince those on high – whether in university administrations or in government – that what we do matters and that it must be allowed to flourish. 

If you could share any advice with your younger self about a career in music, what would it be?

Try to feel less anxious! Time moves with alarming speed, so prioritise what you want to do and avoid putting off what counts the most – both in and beyond the workplace.