FEDERSPIEL has been around long enough to qualify as a musical institution, and the brass septet’s reputation has spread well beyond the borders of Austria – but they come from humble roots, playing traditional folk music in a Wachau pub. The joy of playing together was the youthful group’s first motivation, but it soon grew into a desire to craft something more meaningful – something that, in time, would take its place on the national stage. Federspiel’s multilayered music is unmistakable, bridging tradition and modernity and elegantly spanning a number of different genres. On October 9th, the band celebrated its 20th anniversary with a number of musical friends; founding members, Philip Haas and Simon Zöchbauer, spoke with Michael Ternai about Federspiel’s beginnings, their musical vision, and the necessity of setting priorities.
Federspiel is celebrating its 20th anniversary as a band, a respectable length of time. And although you’re not a small ensemble, the personnel hasn’t changed much over time.
Philip Haas: That’s true; there hasn’t been much fluctuation. The first change took place after ten years, when Robert Puhr left the group. The second major event was three years ago, when Matthias Werner and Ayac Jimenez-Salvador decided to leave the stage after 17 years. The period between their announcement and when it actually happened was an interesting time; it was the band’s first real turning point. When they left, we lost two important personalities, both of whom had been with us since the beginning and had helped shape the ensemble. That kind of thing leaves a mark.
What was the original idea of the ensemble? Did you always plan for Federspiel to be as long-lived as it has turned out to be?
Simon Zöchbauer: That didn’t really emerge until later on. We were only 15 when we started; in the beginning, it was really just about friends making music together…but definitely with a certain level of quality. We were pretty ambitious back then – we all played in the Lower Austria Youth Symphony and competed in classical competitions. But the classical world seemed somehow at odds with what we wanted to do; we didn’t have that kind of seriousness. Playing together and having fun was our priority.
We never imagined in our wildest dreams that we could one day live from Federspiel. It was always one small step after the other. Since Rudi Pietsch helped us so much with our first steps, we felt like we were in a special situation. That kind of mentoring, where you learn tradition and musical language in an informal setting, is really rare. Eating was often more important that rehearsing a piece all the way to the end.
Philip Haas: I think you can only judge Rudi’s role properly in retrospect. At our age and in our situation back then, we didn’t realize how valuable he was to us. He didn’t just teach us music; he imparted life lessons as well. As silly as it may sound, we all met in the midst of puberty. We used to be very different with one another; wildness, freedom, playing, and – most of all – food were the most important things. [laughs]
Simon Zöchbauer: We ate so much. [both laugh]
Philip Haas: You haven’t changed a whole lot since then. Anyway, at the time we didn’t really notice that something really precious was growing.
You studied classical music and played folk music, but Federspiel has become much more than just the combination of those two worlds. When did your musical vision emerge?
Simon Zöchbauer: As I mentioned, I think the development of our musical language happened really organically, step by step. We had the good fortune to have a lot of time for the group’s development, and we took those steps earlier than a lot of musicians, who don’t realize until later that they’d rather be freelancers or start their own ensemble. By that time, they’re often in their early 20s, and they want to establish themselves as quickly as possible. Those five years or so are a relatively short period of time, especially for a band. If you want to take a band seriously and really build it, you really have to think of it in the long term, even as a lifelong project. We had that time. Our first seven years were completely free and easy; it was just about bonding with one another, playing together, learning – and having fun doing it. The serious route – the university, with the goal of becoming an orchestra musician – faded into the background pretty quickly.
One decisive point was when Marialena Fernandes invited us to play in the Musikverein; another was when Amanda Rotter asked us to program half of a concert series at the Konzerthaus. Those were our first two really big steps.
Philip Haas: Before, we couldn’t imagine ever getting asked to play in such established houses. Simon, I remember something you said when you started university: you asked us if we wanted to do it right, or if we wanted to continue on the way we had been. That really influenced me to reconsider my priorities.
Simon Zöchbauer: You’re right, I did say that. I was extremely motivated to advance the ensemble while I was studying; I dreamed of being able to live from it someday. Besides, after a year or two studying, I realized that I wanted no part of the orchestra life, that Federspiel was a project with potential, something I really wanted to do. That’s why I started pushing the ensemble early on, making contacts and making sure we were playing and developing musically. I may have been a little earlier than the others with that idea, because I started university and failed in the classical world earlier as well. It was awful, but on the other hand, it spurred my involvement in the project. Perhaps that’s why I was something of a motivating force for the group.
Philip Haas: We needed someone to make us aware, show us the direction it could go.
Simon Zöchbauer: And there was already so much there. Federspiel definitely progressed while we were studying, but some of us still had the vision of landing an orchestra job. But at some point, I said: “People, we need a little more commitment.”
Philip Haas: I remember it well – there came a point when we got more intensely involved and shifted our priorities. The university was important, of course, but we still blocked out fixed times for Federspiel. We got together to play every week; we rehearsed and made sure we always had a room to do it in. It was a very important time. Even when no concerts were planned, the wheel kept turning, and we kept growing.
You said that having fun playing music was the focus at the beginning. When did you get serious about it; when did the high level of musical quality become important? When did a group of young musicians become an ensemble that thought about – for instance – the sound of the room you’re planning to record an album in?
Philip Haas: Actually, that was there very early on. On Unerhört Bumm, our second album, we recorded in different rooms. When you play a wind instrument, you’re always searching for the perfect sound; brass players in particular know how much a room can help to carry the tone – or how difficult it can be to produce a good sound. Our albums were never concept albums, but from a wind player’s perspective it’s always important to find a room that sounds good in and of itself – where you feel comfortable, where the sound can blossom when you blow into it. Even now, when you’re on tour, there are certain rooms you’re a little afraid of and others that you really look forward to. Really, we were always serious about music – even more so in rehearsal than onstage, I suspect.
Simon Zöchbauer: We always took rehearsing seriously. Back then, Rudi remarked how impressed he was with our seriousness. In spite of all the fun we had, I think we were always very focused; we strove for a high degree of quality from the beginning on – if we were going to do something, we wanted to do it right. And we still do.
Philip Haas: That’s something we had to learn, and it was a long process until we found ourselves. Group dynamics are very interesting, sociologically speaking: the way each personality develops, how each finds their role – and what happens when important personalities are replaced by new ones after 17 years.
Simon Zöchbauer: At some point, we started designating someone to say, when the fun was getting out of hand: “So, people, let’s get back to rehearsing seriously.” That energy led to new, unconventional methods as well. We’ve just always had a cool dynamic together; it’s a huge enrichment and it’s carried us through a lot. When you consider: we play between 50 and 70 concerts a year, plus travel days and rehearsals – we see each other at least a hundred days a year. You only do that if you truly enjoy it.
Your early years coincided with a revival of brass music. Mnozil Brass was filling concert halls, and festivals like Woodstock der Blasmusik were having a heyday. Were you aware of that at the time?
Philip Haas: Every young brass player at the beginning of their career knew Mnozil Brass; of course we listened to everything they did over and over. All of a sudden, there were these seven testosterone-fueled brass players who could play anything, playing the big stages. And of course they proved that a seven-person brass ensemble can be successful; that was a cool realization. But we didn’t really think that brass music generally was having a moment – we were young, we knew nothing at all about the music market, and we weren’t interested. All we wanted to do was play our instruments and make music together. But Mnozil Brass, and the Innviertler Wadlbeisser as well – they showed us that it could work, that there was something besides classical music.
Simon Zöchbauer: Particularly at that time, with the role models who were out there – Mnozil Brass, the Innviertler Wadlbeisser, and also Rudi’s Tanzgeiger, who played traditional violin music – it was important to us to distinguish ourselves, not to copy anyone. It was clear to us that that wasn’t an option. We wanted to go our own way.
What inspired you at the time? What were your influences?
Simon Zöchbauer: The inspiration actually grew along with whatever we were occupied with at the moment. At the beginning it was arrangements of traditional pieces, then we started writing original compositions in a traditional style. Now, for example, we play my piece “Die Deunigen”. Back then, I was very interested in zither music; I was a big fan of the duo Soyka Stirner. I loved how much they improvised; their music brought improvisation and traditional music together in a way that really inspired me. That’s also why I started playing the zither, which is how “Die Deunigen” came about – a piece in the style of Viennese folk music. We were always influenced by the musical worlds that were present for us at the moment, giving rise to one piece after another: our horizons defined our musical language, and those horizons kept being redrawn.
We were also always open to new influences – both within our own area and in completely different ones. I think that’s what sets us apart from classical ensembles; most of them just travel straight ahead and stay in their lane. There are others that are more open in their approach, of course, but we always listened to experimental music and brought it into the ensemble to play. We’ve always tried to be unconventional. If something doesn’t turn into a hit, that’s okay – but that one little facet is by and large cool. You can feel a certain openness, a certain spirit.
Philip Haas: To my mind, we never had the goal that one of us should write a hit. For those of us who compose, Federspiel was always a playground, a place to try things out. We would rehearse something, then take it home and revise it, toss it out, or revamp it completely. It didn’t take too long for us to recognize that the music that the individual composers in the band brought with them was something very valuable, something to be treated with care. I think that culture of feedback and developing things together helped each one find their own style.
The main reason that Matthias Werner retired from the stage was to concentrate more on composing. He became a composer with the ensemble – he wrote his first arrangements with us, and later began composing. In 2017 or 2018, we had a major project with the Lower Austrian Tonkünstler Orchestra, and Matthias composed some of the music. That project was what inspired him to write for orchestra.
Simon Zöchbauer: The great thing is that Federspiel always offered so many opportunities for development, to try things out and find out who we actually are. That experimentation, the chance to play your compositions with other people and get direct feedback about it, is extremely rare. If you’re not part of an ensemble yourself, other people play the pieces, and you don’t get the feedback until later; the process takes much longer. It’s truly a privilege, and of huge benefit to your development, to be able to do that in your own ensemble. We’ve developed so much with and through the ensemble – it’s something special.
You’ve developed a very original style out of a mixture of various other styles. To me, you raised it to a high art, particularly with your last album, Albedo. The listener can always hear that you’ve progressed – is that will to develop part of Federspiel’s DNA?
Simon Zöchbauer: That development is really important to me; it’s important that we not stagnate. While we were touring for the last album, for example, I was very focused on the light being correct – I wanted to establish a new level in the performance. We have to press on – musically, of course, but more generally, in defining who we are.
Philip Haas: I think what happened in the last 20 years is going to continue: step by step, ergonomically. Our programs are always a snapshot of where we are at the moment.
Simon Zöchbauer: I think that we’ve also started to align the music more with a concept, like with Albedo. It should be more of a coherent thing, not just a collection of randomly composed pieces. We decide on a concept early on, and that defines the direction in which the pieces will be composed. We want our programs to be conceptually sound as well; Albedo was the first time that we really did that consciously. We already have a title for the next program, and it’s going to be the same.
Translated from the German original by Philip Yaeger.