A music lover dreams up the Masterprize competition to encourage new classical works

By JULIE K.L. DAM /LONDON

arlier this century, the British composer Vaughan Williams famously said upon hearing one of his own compositions, "If that's modern music, I don't like it." When the anecdote was recounted during the inaugural Masterprize awards ceremony last week, the audience responded with knowing laughter. After all, a primary reason for the establishment of this international composing competition was to prove that new classical music doesn't have to be atonal and inscrutable, and in fact can be accessible and have broad appeal. As demonstrated by the six Masterprize finalist pieces--from winner Andrew March's "tone pictures" inspired by Renoir's paintings to Zhou Long's cross-cultural interpretation of ancient Chinese poetry--there is actually much to like in modern classical music.

The competition was the brainchild of John McLaren, a diplomat-turned-investment banker and novelist with no musical background other than a love for it. "You know the way young people today say, 'I wish I had been around when the Beatles and the Rolling Stones got started. It must have been very exciting,'" he says. "In the same way, I thought, just imagine living when Mozart wrote Don Giovanni. It was not just a good relationship between the composer and the public; there was excitement about what they were going to do next. Now it's near impossible to program new music and get much of an audience. Nobody cared and nobody talked about it."

The best approach, he decided, was to create a contest in which new composers could have a wide audience, and music lovers could at the same time become involved in deciding what they would hear. The winner would be determined by an expert panel as well as by popular vote. He found that while there were hundreds of prizes for composition, they were all so small in scale that they had little impact, on either the composer or the public. This competition would be unprecedented in scope.

So five years ago, with not much more than this bold concept, McLaren approached organizations such as BBC Radio 3, the London Symphony Orchestra and EMI Records. To his surprise they signed on as partners--on the condition that he would lead the organizing efforts. With the backing of such impressive institutions, McLaren managed to raise the $500,000 needed to hold the competition and gain the support of people like Mstislav Rostropovich, who served as patron and judge, and Cherie Blair, who presented the awards at the final gala. Some $42,000 was allotted for first prize, and the Worshipful Company of Musicians offered a $17,000 commission for the highest finisher under the age of 30.

Launched in October 1996, the first Masterprize competition received more than 1,200 entries from composers aged eight to 80, living in 60 different countries. An international panel of experts pored over the scores and shortlisted 15, which were recorded by the BBC orchestras and broadcast on 40 radio stations worldwide. A second jury, which included Rostropovich and Kent Nagano, whittled the list down to six finalists: March, 23, of Warwickshire, England, who won first prize and the under-30 commission; Russian-born Swedish resident Victoria Borisova-Ollas, 28, whose Blakean Wings of the Wind came in second; Daniele Gasparini, 21, of Italy, whose Stravinsky-quoting piece inspired by Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass won third place; Chinese-born Zhou Long, 44, who is resident in the U.S.; Carl Vine, 43, of Australia, who wrote an accompaniment to a Fritz Lang silent film; and American Stephen Hartke, 45, whose soaring piece describes an early ballooning experiment. The London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Daniel Harding, recorded the pieces for a CD distributed with the BBC Music magazine and performed them at the gala.

Such is the value of the international exposure that some contestants say that being shortlisted for Masterprize is already more important than winning any other composing competition. "I began work on my piece sometime in September 1996, but due to an absence of inspiration, there seemed to be just endless sketches of what might eventually become the new piece," says March. "It was the knowledge of the Masterprize composing competition that enabled me to keep on writing despite these difficulties."

Though some music critics were underwhelmed by the winning pieces and disdainful of what they considered a constraint placed on the entries--a time limit of eight to 12 minutes--the competition has begun to achieve what it set out to do: serve as a catalyst for greater interest in new classical music. Almost 35,000 people from 45 countries sent in votes for the final. Already some finalists have received new commissions and requests for further performances. "I will judge our success in a few years' time," says McLaren. "Is the relationship between the composers and the audiences becoming less antagonistic?" Masterprize is already accepting entries for the next competition, which will conclude, aptly enough, in 2000. If McLaren has his way, a new era in classical music will be coming with the millennium.