Chatting with Recorder Player Michala Petri
BY CHRISTOPHER BRODERSEN

Recently I had the enormous pleasure of connecting with the famous Danish recorder player Michala Petri via Zoom. Despite her lofty standing in the musical world, she is completely down-to-earth and even self-effacing. Quite the opposite of what you might expect from someone who has been repeatedly hailed as “the world’s foremost performer on the recorder.”

I’ve been studying your discography, also your Wikipedia article, and it says that you started on the recorder when you were three. Tell us how that came about.
As with many other musicians, there was music in the house from the time I was little. My father was a violinist and played in an orchestra. Once while he was on tour somewhere, he saw a recorder in a shop and bought it.
My mother was a pianist, but she tended to keep the piano for herself. As with any other child, though, I liked to fool around on the piano just to hear the sound. But when my father brought home the recorder, I took to that instead.
I got my first musical instruction from my mother, and soon after got a regular music teacher, who was very kind and very nice. Then one thing led to another, and I was taking part in children’s competitions. Then I got a better teacher, and then things really took off.
I’m always surprised at the reactions from other people when they hear that I started at age three. “How could you fit your fingers on the holes, and how did you manage?” Thinking back, I wonder about it myself—which shows how much we forget about childhood as we get older.
I can tell you a little funny story—funny for me, at least.
Perfect. We like funny stories.
The first time I performed with Keith Jarrett…
Ah, yes.
…we didn’t talk much at first, but then he asked me the same question, and I gave him the same answer, three years old. I was expecting him to react the way others had, saying that was a “very early age.” But to my surprise and great relief he just said, “I was two.” Two years old when he started!
Hey, he had you beat.
Yes, that was nice. And more importantly, I felt I had met somebody who understood me, you know? That was really nice.
What size recorder were you playing at the beginning? A soprano, I suppose.
Yes, a soprano, but also an alto. Funny thing. I have a photo of myself from that time playing what looks like a tenor recorder, but actually it was just an alto. I could barely stretch my fingers over the fingerholes, and I can still remember the tone not being as clear as on the soprano—that annoyed me. I still have the soprano that I was playing when I was five.
What’s your favorite brand or make of recorder? Probably you’ve had all kinds.
Recorder players in those days were keen, and still are, to try out different models, especially for Baroque music. As I’m sure you know, there are many different styles of Baroque recorders, depending on the taste and on which country the music is from.
I’m a bit different, however, because from the time I was 11, I was studying at the Hochschule für Musik in Hanover, Germany. My home was in Denmark, but I traveled once a week to Hanover with my mother to have lessons with Ferdinand Conrad.
Yes, famous teacher and performer.
Yes. He was from the generation before Frans Brüggen, before historical performance became as important as it is today. He directed me to the Moeck factory in nearby Celle, where they made recorders, along with a complete line of historical instruments.
Yup, they made everything.
That’s when I started playing Moeck recorders. A=440, as was normal at that time. I just stayed with that brand—it was so familiar to me. I thought, this is my instrument. Just like a violin player has his violin, this was my recorder, the one that allowed me to best express myself.
Today, however, I enjoy following the many new models and inventions, especially the modern versions which have greater volume, and therefore also a wider dynamic range. Really important for modern music, but also for many other periods.
Okay, so let’s talk a bit about your recordings. I’m on your website, which has what looks to be a complete discography, including photos of all the album covers. When you first started making recordings with Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, for example, that was quite a big deal. How did that come about? You landed a contract with Philips Records at a very young age!
Yes. Well, at that time, as you know, things were quite different in the music profession. Everything moved at a much slower pace. But also, things were more solid once you had started your career. What led to my getting this contract was that my family and I had given a lunchtime concert for the BBC. My mother, Hanne, played harpsichord, and my brother, David, who is four years younger, played the cello. I was at the time 17, so he must have been 13. Today he has been playing for over 30 years in the Halle Orchestra in Manchester.
That recital was broadcast “live” by the BBC, and Neville Marriner happened to hear it. He went to Philips and suggested that they make an LP with me and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. So we recorded four of the most popular recorder concertos with Iona Brown conducting.
Apparently that first recording was a big success. To start out, they offered me a contract for three years, with a guarantee of two records per year. The contract was extended, I think, four times. So, a total of 15 years.
The discography on your website is very nicely arranged. There’s a whole group of Philips records there: Vivaldi six concertos opus 10, the Brandenburgs with Neville Marriner, an LP of Telemann sonatas and fantasias, Handel, more Telemann. You recorded an amazing amount of music for Philips.
Yes. Over many years.
It looks like you also did a disc with Pinchas Zukerman.
Yes, and the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, which later became one of my favorite orchestras, one that I visited many times.
Music of Telemann and Anton Heberle. I’m not sure who that is.
He was a composer working in Vienna from the late 18th century to early 19th century. So, a contemporary of Mozart and Beethoven.
In other words, a Classical-era composer.
Yes, and that’s why I wanted to record his music. Heinz Holliger had seen his name somewhere and passed it on to me, thinking that it might interest me. Heberle wrote a concerto for the so-called czakan, which is a kind of recorder that was popular in Vienna during that period. Heberle is thought to be its inventor. It has the same blowing mechanism as the recorder but is much longer and has keys. Often the czakan was fashioned in the shape of a walking stick.
I obtained the score and parts for the concerto, and I thought it was quite extraordinary that a piece for recorder has survived from this period, considering that the recorder basically disappeared between the Baroque and modern era. [Nils Anderson gave Michala’s recording of the Heberle concerto a “hearty recommendation” in Fanfare 12:1.]
I discovered all of this after looking up Heberle’s name in different libraries. At that time, it was necessary to visit the library in person to do this kind of research.
That took some determination.
Yes, but it was also rewarding. And it led me to another composer named Ernest Krähmer, who at the time was also largely unknown. Today, he is quite well known because he wrote a lot of music for the czakan. But back then it was right at the beginning of the “rediscovery” of the recorder and its music.
And believe it or not, Beethoven also mentions the czakan in his notebooks. He says that he would like to write “a great work” for the czakan but never did. However, his friend Diabelli published several of Beethoven’s works in arrangement for czakan with other instruments. All of this with Beethoven’s approval.
Fascinating. I did not know that.
Yes, fascinating. And knowing that he took the instrument seriously sort of gave me “permission” to do some transcriptions of his other works, like the ones for mandolin and harpsichord.
At some point it looks like you switched over to RCA Victor. Your repertoire changed a bit—there seems to be a shift toward lighter, less severely classical material.
My switch to RCA happened because I had done everything for Philips that I thought was possible at the time. Actually, at RCA, I extended my repertoire in many directions. This included some of the more “serious” repertoire, such as modern pieces that had been composed for me—concertos and chamber music.
And then you had some new partners, for example, the pianist Keith Jarrett, whom we’ve already mentioned. You did an album of Handel sonatas with him.
Yes. We did all the Handel sonatas, and later we did the Bach flute sonatas as well.
He’s in a class of his own, isn’t he?
Absolutely. And the experience of making music with him is impossible to describe. Even today, when I think back to the days when we were recording together, I discover new things.
The range of the music that he plays. I don’t know—is he still active?
Unfortunately, he had a stroke about four years ago. But we are still in contact. Every conversation I have with him is enlightening and inspiring. He and his wife, Akiko, are two very special people.
Sorry to hear about his stroke. I heard him live once doing jazz. It was a totally improvised concert. Over an hour’s worth of music, just right out of his head, you know? Amazing.
Very true. That’s what is so fantastic about him.
At the time of my switch from Philips, RCA had just acquired a new director named Michael Emerson, who was also the agent of James Galway…
Okay.
…and he knew me. He made me an offer to come over to RCA. They were willing to pay me a lot more money, which made the decision much easier.
Didn’t RCA later get taken over by BMG?
Yes, quite soon after I signed on, in fact.
Michael said the move would be good for my career. He said he would help in my efforts to do new repertoire. Since I’ve always considered myself to be a pioneer on the recorder, doing new music was important to me. It was great to have support from my record company in that regard.
So, I made the change, and I was quite happy for many years, because it gave me the chance to record with new musicians like Keith Jarrett and Pinchas Zukerman, and to contribute my own ideas for repertoire. Throughout my career my priority has always been to commission new music, and thankfully I was allowed to record that.
From the beginning, my role as a recorder player has been slightly different from others, because I have always tried to make the recorder an instrument equal to modern instruments like the piano and the violin. That has been the challenge for me. When I played with people like Pinchas Zukerman, I had to work hard to match his level of expression on the violin. Compared with the authentic music world, the dynamic expressive range is on a different and larger scale.
I had many good years with RCA, but then all the recording companies hit a downturn. They needed to record what was safe, like Vivaldi and Bach. But that was something I felt I had done already.
Looking at the records that came later, there’s really some unusual stuff here. There’s one CD called Chinese Recorder Concertos—East meets West.
That was part of a larger series. After I left RCA, my husband at the time, Lars Hannibal and I talked about doing a CD on our own, just to see what would happen. He was hesitant and said that making a CD is a big undertaking. He wanted to do it in the best possible way, just like everything he does. We named the company OUR Recordings, and the first CD we did together is titled Siesta.
I see it. Siesta, with Michala Petri, recorder, and Lars Hannibal, guitar. Music of Jacques Ibert, Maurice Ravel, Astor Piazzolla, Heitor Villa-Lobos. I take it these are transcriptions.
Yes, transcriptions.
Oh, that sounds interesting.
By doing these pieces, you know, it was once again my goal to broaden the expressive range of the recorder. After that, we went on to make another CD titled Movements with the Danish Radio Orchestra, this time of three modern recorder concertos. At that time rather unpopular recorder repertoire, and certainly something that RCA/BMG would never touch. We gave it a try, and believe it or not, it received a Grammy nomination—my first! You know, I’ve had many other prizes over the years, but never a Grammy nomination. That was so encouraging that we decided to continue making records together.
Now Lars is running the company all on his own. I am the co-owner and am allowed to give my opinion now and then. [laughs] But, he has so many good ideas, and we’ve been fortunate in our success.
Excellent. One recording on the OUR Recordings label that I see listed is titled English Recorder Concertos. The composers are Malcolm Arnold and Gordon Jacobs. Are these bona fide recorder concertos, or transcriptions?
This CD is part of a series of concertos from various countries. Most of the works were commissioned by and written for me. An exception is the CD with the Chinese recorder concertos, where two of the works are written for the Chinese flute, but the composers allowed me to play the pieces on the recorder.
Macolm Arnold—very interesting. It says he died in 2006. When was the concerto written?
It must have been around 1986 or 1987. Something like that.
I take it that you met him. Did you work with him?
Yes, absolutely. We met before he wrote it, and he wrote two solo pieces for me as well. I traveled to his home in Norfolk, England. And we met many times after that as well.
He also wrote a piece for me for the 100th anniversary of Carnegie Hall. Various musicians had been invited to perform throughout the season, including me. So I asked Arnold to write something, and he wrote a piece for recorder and string quartet. It was really, really good.
Wow. I didn’t know about those works by Arnold, but I’m going to check them out.
Cool. I need to update my homepage, because I want to include a list of the more than 100 works that have been composed for me. There is information there that other recorder players will find of interest, I think.
Another item in my discography worth checking out is a CD titled UK DK, where I play contemporary works for recorder and harpsichord with the great harpsichordist Mahan Esfahani. [It was recommended by Ronald E. Grames and Raymond Tuttle in Fanfare 38:6.]
So, Britain and Denmark. It includes an Alpine Suite by Benjamin Britten. Really? This is an original work by Britten for recorder?
Actually, originally for recorder trio.
Well, not surprising. England was the hotbed for this sort of thing.
Yes, that’s right.
Of course, recording is just one part of what you do. You’ve been concertizing all over the world for many years now.
Not so much anymore. I’ve been at this for a very long time, over 50 years. I started early, at age 11, when I left school to study the recorder. That lasted for six years, until I was 17. From then on, my career has been nonstop and for many years involved constant traveling. I was traveling nine or 10 months out of the year, rarely staying more than two or three days in one place, so it began to take a toll.
At one point, I got married and had two lovely daughters, who are now nearly 30 and 31. And I started traveling with my husband, which was a blessing for me, because I went from being alone to, in a sense, taking part of my family with me.
Now I’m 67, and at that age in Denmark you’re eligible for the state pension. The amount isn’t that much, but it’s a nice feeling. It’s the first time in my life that I can keep to a regular budget!
Do you have students?
I have a few students, but I confess that I have always avoided teaching, thinking it is a big responsibility. I do like giving masterclasses, however.
Having a student also means taking responsibility for someone’s education from start to finish. I thought that I was doing the recorder world a bigger favor by commissioning new pieces, and by being the pioneer that I’ve tried to be. By pushing the envelope technically and expression-wise, so that other people could hear what was possible. That made more sense to me.
And it still does, now that musical life has changed so dramatically, as we all know. I’m trying to catch up a little with how everything is at the moment. And doing the pursuits that are important to me, the ones that I didn’t have a chance to do earlier. Recently I had the good fortune to inherit a collection of 415 recorders from Leif Ramløv Svendsen, a very fine player, so now I’m experimenting with Baroque music on low-pitch recorders.
Right now, I’m working on transcriptions of the six cello suites by Bach. I have to recompose them quite a lot, because my instrument is in a high register, whereas the cello range is over many octaves. As a guide, I’m studying what Bach did when he transcribed, for example, a violin concerto for harpsichord. Also, the way he ornamented, and so on.
I’ve already published two of the suites, but I want to do all six. Naturally I want to record them as well. For that I’m most likely going to use my 415 recorders.
Excellent. I look forward to hearing your Bach transcriptions. You know, I wanted to mention that I heard you play live once, a long time ago.
Oh, where was that?
In Washington, D.C. I think the year was 1984. I don’t remember the venue, but you and your mother were performing.
That’s fantastic that you heard us, so long ago. I think it might have been one of the small recital halls in the Kennedy Center. That’s one possibility, the most likely one, I think.
Yes, and I’m sorry I didn’t save the program. It was the first time that I became aware of you as a player, and I was quite impressed.
Oh, very kind of you. Thank you for telling me!
So, who knows? Maybe someday I’ll get a chance to hear you live again. I didn’t make a point of going backstage and saying hello in Washington, but next time I will do that for sure.
Yes, that would be nice. I always enjoy it when audience members come backstage and say hello. I learn a lot from their comments.
You talked earlier about how musical life has “changed dramatically.” Care to elaborate on that?
It’s really about the role music plays in society, and how that has changed drastically compared with earlier times. It used to be that going to concerts was the main way people got to hear music. Music was always “live,” but what people hear nowadays is mostly recorded. It used to be that you experienced music as part of a group, in the same room, focusing on the same music at the same time, but now it’s more often a personalized and internalized experience.
There’s so much music around, and so many more possibilities compared with when I was young. By the same token things are less strict—for example, they used to say that it’s completely wrong to do transcriptions. Now you can do pretty much anything you want, even improvise. I do like to improvise.
The interaction with other musicians is important to me. Also, the connection with the audience during a performance, when we all get to be and feel like one unit. There’s a special feeling, or sensation, that you need to develop for that to happen.
That’s something that I experiment with, and that interests me a lot. Ultimately life is all about communicating with other people. Nobody is alone; even if you live as a hermit, you communicate in a deeper way with others by creating a distance.
Well, as you know, improvisation was a big deal back in the Baroque, but they don’t teach that in conservatories anymore.
Exactly.
I mean, how many classical musicians do you know who can improvise? Who can stand up and do a complete improvised piece on the spot. It’s just not done, or at least very seldom, right?
That’s so right. Recently I heard an interesting program on the radio with an American mandolin player named Chris Thile. He’s rather famous. He’s equally at home playing bluegrass and Bach. He’s worked with Yo-Yo Ma and Edgar Meyer, for example.
In the interview, he said that he felt it was important for musicians to be as open as possible and to study as many styles they can. Sort of like an actor, you know. He says that because we are limited as persons, we shouldn’t put more limits on ourselves. It’s our duty as musicians to expand our horizons, including adding improvising to our skill set. I thought that was very appropriate.
He’s also a singer-songwriter. His songs are an unusual mixture of modern and Renaissance. They sound a bit like Dowland. Very striking.
Interesting. I’ll have to check him out. Let’s talk a bit about your latest album, titled Concerto Rosignolo. Apparently, it was recorded live.
Correct. Today, when you can create just about anything artificially in a studio, I find it very rewarding to do live recordings. In the case of Concerto Rosignolo, that’s especially true. The work is by one of my favorite composers, Ole Buck, who is also a good friend. He’s a highly educated and inquisitive person, strong and sensitive at the same time. His “style” never feels like a style, since the content and expression create the form; the imagination always stands out. In a certain respect his music sounds “naïve,” but in reality, it’s not naïve at all. Similar to how birdsong doesn’t sound naïve, which is possibly why this concerto about a nightingale is so convincing.
At the concert, there was a unique atmosphere in the hall, an intensity and a unity between the performers and audience that I think found its way onto the recording. The musicians of the Odense Symphony Orchestra are always a joy to work with. They have a special warmth and friendly spirit. I sometimes wonder if it has to do with the fact that the birthplace of Hans Christian Andersen is just around the corner from the concert hall, and that the composer Carl Nielsen spent his childhood just a few kilometers away.
In this new chapter of my life as a retired person, or as we say in Denmark, a “pensioner,” I’m fortunate that I’ve already recorded two new concertos composed for me. The other is Poul Ruders’s “Transfigurations,” which I recorded with Kremerata Baltica, the wonderful ensemble that was founded and is still led by Gidon Kremer. Despite it being a studio recording, the performance is very engaging. Kremerata Baltica’s energetic playing style was certainly a contributing factor.
It appears that you’re finding new ways to expand your instrument’s repertoire.
Yes, it’s a privilege. Fortunately, Ole Buck has composed another piece for me, a kind of encore to follow Concerto Rosignolo. It’s written for five recorders, one player, and I look forward to learning it. Maybe I’ll include it on a program of solo pieces that I’ve wanted to do for many years.
Excellent. I look forward to hearing your performances of these pieces in the future. And thank you for talking with me today.
Thank you as well. It’s been a pleasure.