In Focus: Stuart Storer

Let's go back to the beginning and where your musical journey started.

I never envisaged that I would pursue a career path in music. Music was something I was pushed into. I actually wanted to be an airline pilot when I grew up, and I’m still fascinated by anything to do with aeroplanes.

My dad had the ambition to own a baby grand piano. One day, I came home from school, and a baby grand piano was sitting in our lounge room. I was a seven- or eight-year-old playing around on it as kids do, but never intending to have lessons. But before I knew it, I was being shunted off to piano lessons with someone who lived down the street.

My first lesson got off completely on the wrong foot because the teacher could only fit me in on a Monday at 5:30pm, which just so happened to be the time of my favourite TV program; this was pre-streaming, video recording or having catch-up TV. So, straight away, I didn't want to be there. And, to compound the issue, he was a mean teacher who used to be a very traditional 'whack me across the knuckles with a ruler' punisher if I got something wrong or couldn’t remember the acronym for naming the notes on the stave. He expected me to learn to read before I could even touch the piano, and I remember vividly the first thing he taught me once I’d been permitted to touch the keys was the scale of C major in contrary motion. I literally hated it. I cried every lesson. I cried before every lesson, and I cried after every lesson. And I said to my parents, "I really don't want to do this". And they said, "okay, that's fine. You go and tell him you're not continuing". One Sunday morning, I plucked up the courage with a friend. I told my friend, "we just have something to do before we go off and play football". I knocked on the teacher's door, and his wife came to answer, and I said, "is Mr. so-and-so home". And she said, "yes, I'll go and get him for you". So he came very grumpily to the front door, and I said, "I'm not coming back for lessons anymore". And I ran as fast as I've ever run in my life. But it wasn't the end because my parents had other ideas.

My dad heard of a young girl in the next village (rural England) who’d been accepted into the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester. She was only 14 and wasn’t allowed to take her place until she’d turned 16. My dad thought she'd be an ideal candidate to teach me, and he approached her father. Sure enough, I was her first student, and we hit it off like a house on fire.

I know it's a cliche that the teacher makes a big difference - but, in my case, it seriously was. I did all my exams through her. The rest was history.

I got to a certain level and thought, "what will I do here?" I didn't necessarily enjoy practicing the piano, but I did enjoy playing. If I brought a piece of popular music to my lesson, my teacher would often say, "I'm not teaching you that. That's not proper music. You can go off and learn that yourself". When I left school, I was offered a scholarship to study a Foundation Course in Music at the local Institute of Higher Education; I suppose this was my first introduction to the ‘real’ world of music; I was mixing with other musicians of various instruments, learning new things every day, and soaking up the teaching of my main lecturer who was an academic by day and a professional musician/entertainer by night. I credit this person with teaching me how to decipher a chord chart and opening my eyes (and ears) to how harmony works.

I came to Australia in 1979 and completed a Certificate in Advanced Music at the Flinders Street School of Music (Adelaide) under Rodney Smith. Then I studied at the Elder Conservatorium under Lance Dossor for my third-year degree, I did Honours with Stefan Ammer and a Masters's degree with Stefan, all in classical music. As a sideline, I was always interested in the rock, pop and, to a lesser extent, jazz fields. You can't expect a 14-, 15-, or 16-year-old not to be immersed in the music surrounding them. Classical music is all well and good. It's fantastic and the best foundation, but no one wants to hear you play “Für Elise” at a party. They want you to play the current top twenty.

So, I'm very much self-taught in rock, jazz and popular music. People need idols to look up to for inspiration. One of my role models is a keyboard player, Rick Wakeman. He was very similar to me - classically trained and studied at the Royal College of Music in London. But he didn't finish his degree because he discovered he could make more money playing in pubs, clubs, and as a session musician. He's a phenomenal musician in his own right, so I try to model myself on Rick Wakeman. Looking at his influences and picking up a bit from here and there, all these different influences. After finishing my degree, I started teaching piano in schools and was keen to work beyond the page. I'd often teach students a classical piece, then suggest, for example, that they look at what the Beatles would do with something like this. How would they interpret it, or what would it sound like if the Beatles had written it? I also think it's essential to try to understand the harmonic structure of the music, so I’ll often show my students how to analyse a particular section and play the melody with the chords broken down into simpler units.

I incorporate into my teaching that musicians shouldn't just look at the dots on the page but also look at the more significant meaning and where these dots can lead. I became an AMEB examiner nearly 30 years ago, leading to examining CPM, the contemporary music course that the AMEB had at the time. Then, Rockschool came along, and I was invited to apply for one of the initial intakes of examiners. And it all started.

I'm curious — did you ever find out why your father wanted to have a piano?

I suspect it was a slightly vicarious thing on his part. His ambition was that I should learn to play the piano. My mother had had lessons as a child, but once I got going, I soon passed her level. He would often tell me this; now he's nearly 95 and still says there were three things he wanted from me:

Number 1: to be able to play a musical instrument, to be able to play the piano. I’m pretty sure he didn’t envisage I’d ever take it to the Tertiary level.

Number 2: to be able to write a good letter.

Number 3: to be able to speak a foreign language.

And I got two out of three. Let's say two and a half out of three because I can speak a little bit of Italian, a little bit of French, and a little bit of German.

Can you tell me about the gigs of your youth that influenced your contemporary taste while you were learning classical piano?

As I've mentioned, Rick Wakeman and the band Yes. I never got to see them at their peak in the late 70s, but I actually saw them in Melbourne, of all places, in 2004. There's that old cliche "don't meet your idols," and — honestly— it was a bit of a disappointment. But I'm pleased that I did.

In my formative years, I would go out to almost anything. I was listening to punk bands, emerging in the late seventies through all the colleges and universities in the UK. I'd often go see all the latest bands coming through, punk, reggae, funk, rock — you name it — I’d take it all in. And of course, listening to as much stuff on record as I could get my hands on. Believe it or not, I was unwittingly at one of the early Sex Pistols gigs.

Can you please take me to that gig? What was happening? How'd it go?

It was pandemonium.

It was chaos.

I was thrust into this gig. No one knew what to expect.

They weren't mentioned on the billing or anything. Everything broke out when they hit the stage - it was a riot. They only played two or three songs and had to leave the stage because people threw bottles and other stuff.

Moving on to teaching and bringing contemporary ideas into classical music. How does that help with student engagement or understanding of pieces written centuries before they were born?

When learning piano, I'd often lean towards improvising and try making things up myself. If I couldn't get the music for anything, I would try and play it by ear. My mother always shouted from the next room when I was practising, "That's not your lesson, that's not on the music, that's not on the page. Get back and do what you're supposed to be doing".

Many teachers steer students away from that sort of thing, but they shouldn't because all music comes about through improvisation when all is said and done. If we didn't have creative people, we wouldn't have all the music we have now. We would be regurgitating stuff written three hundred years ago, and we tend to forget those people were at the forefront of creativity. They were breaking down barriers and extending things, and nothing’s changed, creative people are still doing the same thing today. John Lennon said there's nothing new under the sun. And really, there isn't. It's all been done before. We're just following a well-trodden pathway.

What is it like as an examiner to see students come through Rockschool compared to an AMEB exam?

I'm in a unique position because I'm a Rockschool and AMEB examiner. It can be tricky to keep the two separate. The Rockschool syllabuses are superb and well thought out. The whole experience is set up so that there is every opportunity for candidates to excel in a Rockschool exam. I like how every candidate gets the same experience regardless of geographical location. Whether in Melbourne, South Africa or London—it's the same experience. That's a valid and unique point that Rockschool is the same for everyone. It's a good framework for students in contemporary styles to progress their playing. There needed to be more contemporary pathways for drummers, singers, and guitarists, and Rockschool's framework is excellent.

What advice would you give to students pursuing music at any stage?

Have an open mind. Never stop learning and never stop being willing to learn. You can always learn from others and try to play with other musicians as often as possible.

Regardless of the level of the musician you're playing with, you will always learn something from them.