Hermione Johnson is among Aotearoa’s most original, talented, and respected musicians, renowned for her experimental renditions and free-style techniques, with ethereal, improvised sounds often achieved by methods as imaginative as fixing objects between the strings of her piano. Though classically trained, she has transcended the genre, playing free improvisation for festival audiences in New Zealand, Australia and Europe.
She has toured internationally and released several albums that have garnered critical acclaim in the jazz circles of Europe and the Big Apple—her most recent offering, Tremble, was named a Solo Recording of the Year for 2020 by The New York City Jazz Record. A keen collaborator, Hermione has worked with fellow innovators like choreographer Stefan Neville (Pumice) and dancer Zahra Killeen-Chance, along with international stars like Roger Turner and Magda Mayas. Her band Drorgan (‘drums+organ’) was formed with multi-instrumentalist Ben Holmes so that she may “learn how to jam!”. “It’s not quite pop,” she laughs, “but there are drums and a synthesizer, so it’s something you can dance to!”
Hermione is also very kind. Embarrassingly, I must begin the interview apologising for my stupidity in asking how to say her name (I did Google it, but even that throws up a few different pronunciations, and for anyone else that’s struggling, it’s ‘Her-my-oh-nee’). She jokes (correctly) that I’ve clearly never watched Harry Potter, sweetly reassuring me that I’m not stupid, or the first to ask, before adding that it was the bane of her childhood (but then retracts the last bit for being overly dramatic).
Hermione believes it was around the age of five that she first began to be drawn towards the piano. Her parents were “once artists” but changed to do other things (Dad, a sculptor and engineer; Mum, a painter and a lawyer) and always encouraged Hermione and her siblings to “do whatever we were interested in”. “I remember seeing someone playing a piano concerto on television and really liking it,” continues Hermione. “But then, who doesn’t love music?”
I ask if she finds her artform therapeutic.
“Well, it’s not why I do it, but I suppose it is,” she says after giving it some reflection. “It’s not the purpose of it. It’s intellectual, if anything—structured rather than cathartic. I create different elements, and let them develop, interact, and lead into other things that have direction and conclusions. When creating a piece of music, there is a tension that is followed by a resolution that has to happen in order for the structure to form. It’s not just a case of me sitting at the piano and letting it all spill out. I don’t want that.”
When playing at speed, “putting in as many notes as I can”, Hermione describes a layering process that produces “various voices that then speak to each other”.
“Then there’s the physical element,” she goes on. “Especially if I’m playing with drummers because they’re very loud and you have to keep up the momentum, which involves much energy—emotional energy, as well.”
How do you feel when playing—are you aware of the audience?
“Yes, I am aware of them, but I am not thinking of them so much. I am very focused on the music—it requires a lot of concentration. I’m listening deeply, trying to respond, to travel to places and construct a world, so to speak.”
Can you talk us through your creative process—do you hear the music before you play it?
“I’m so familiar with the instrument and its various registers, I generally know what sound will be released. So, I guess I’ll habitually go to places where I like the sound, but it’s not like I’m writing a piece then going to the piano and just playing it. It’s not composed; it’s improvised. All performance music has the element of circumstance, you know, of your psychological state or who’s in the room at the time. So, it’s always going to be unique, whether you’re playing Chopin or improvised or jazz.”
You play the church organ, is that more of a spiritual than a creative endeavour?
“I’m not religious, no. It’s just a beautiful instrument that creates the most incredible, lovely sounds. They are built into churches and designed to fit each one uniquely, so you can’t really get your hands on one without being involved in the church. I particularly love the old baroque ones—the mechanical ones. It’s as if they are alive! When you turn them on you can hear the air coming into the baffles and everything.
warming up, and if you hold down the notes while pulling out the stops, the pitch of the note will rise as the pressure changes in the pipes. Organs are amazing things to play, and so powerful. So old. Such a profound atmosphere. They’re very special.”
You play the church organ, is that more of a spiritual than a creative endeavour?
“I’m not religious, no. It’s just a beautiful instrument that creates the most incredible, lovely sounds. They are built into churches and designed to fit each one uniquely, so you can’t really get your hands on one without being involved in the church. I particularly love the old baroque ones—the mechanical ones. It’s as if they are alive! When you turn them on you can hear the air coming into the baffles and everything warming up, and if you hold down the notes while pulling out the stops, the pitch of the note will rise as the pressure changes in the pipes. Organs are amazing things to play, and so powerful. So old. Such a profound atmosphere. They’re very special.”
I finish up by asking Hermione where we’d most likely find her when she’s not creating music, and she replies that she’s most likely teaching it. Or in the kitchen, cooking. Her five-year-old daughter, too, of course takes up a good chunk of her day—and the young girl’s love of drums means that Hermione might have a new jamming partner soon (“she’s definitely got rhythm and melody!”). And as for Hermione’s cooking skills?
“Sometimes they’re okay,” she says. “Like music, it depends on the circumstance.”
