The performer

From wowing audiences around the world with her passionate flute performances to raising her son and keeping a household running, Jane Rutter is devoted to the things that matter in her life. By Germaine Leece.

Renowned flautist, Jane Rutter, is used to leading a hectic life performing at venues all over the world. One of the few instrumental musicians in Australia to have forged a successful solo career, Jane continues to feel as passionate about the flute as she did when she began learning at just 10 years old. While making music will always be a joy, these days she is also enjoying having more of a balance: time with her son, friends and partner, time alone in her home or on the beach, and most importantly, time to reflect.
 
4.30am: Despite the late nights of performing, and being a self-confessed “night owl”, Jane’s day begins before the sun has even risen. “Since my father died a few years ago, I now wake up on the dot at 4.30am every morning. It’s really strange,” she says. Jane makes good use of the time though, reading for an hour or listening to ABC Radio before managing to go back to sleep again.

7.45am: Jane and her 11-year-old son, Bertie, emerge from their bedrooms and so begins − as Bertie calls it − the “high drama” of getting him ready for school, which includes Jane cooking bacon for his breakfast. The morning routine is often slow as Bertie likes to read while he eats and Jane listens to ABC Classic FM, and often hears her colleagues. “It’s a way of catching up on what everyone is doing.” As a consequence, they only just make it to school on time most mornings. Jane says her mother sees it as “divine retribution” that Bertie is like this. “He reminds me of myself getting on stage as a soloist. I cut it pretty fine, too. A lot of performers like waiting in the wings five minutes before their performance but I’m usually still putting on my mascara then!”

9am: After dropping off Bertie at school, Jane continues on to Sydney’s Balmoral Beach for an hour of exercise. She often runs a couple of lengths of the beach but has more recently discovered that she prefers dancing and skipping, so now heads to the beach with her iPod, which has a variety of old disco tunes. “I’m getting a name for myself as the ‘Skipping Woman’, as I do skip, pirouette and twirl with no shame. Why would I be embarrassed when I’m a performer?” she laughs. After all this exercise, she may also do some yoga before grabbing a coffee.

10.30am: The rest of the morning is spent in her music room, located underneath her house. This is always a technical practice session, which Jane describes as “yoga on the flute”. The exercises she does stretch the lungs, use the diaphragm properly, connect the sound and focus on the different areas of playing. “Being a musician is a bit like being an Olympic athlete. Much of the training is about what it takes to maintain the physical ability to do what is mentally required,” she says.

Jane began learning the flute when she was 10 after joining an ‘opportunity class’ for bright children during her final two years of primary school. Part of the curriculum was that students either learn the recorder or flute. As she already played the recorder, she chose the flute and has never stopped playing. Her parents always encouraged her, but the passion and drive to play came from Jane herself. What she loves most about the flute is how closely it takes her to singing.

12pm: Jane usually has 10 to 12 projects on the go at any one time, so she generally spends an hour or two getting through the administration that such projects create. This may involve checking emails, making phone calls, liaising with record companies, speaking to promoters or creating programs for concerts. At the moment she is devising a ballet called ‘Flute Spirit’, writing music and finetuning programming for a couple of recordings coming up, as well as doing some publicity for her latest album, Embraceable You. Jane describes this time of day, and indeed her life, as an “organised artistic pandemonium”.

Jane sees herself as a performance artist, even though she is a musician. “I’m a bit of a Renaissance girl. What I love about what I do, which is probably a bit different to a lot of classical musicians, is that I have more opportunities for cross-fertilisation. I’m constantly looking for things outside music in a Renaissance sense − poetry, art − to bring in and add to my music.” She quips that part of life as a soloist is having “many pots on the fire and hopefully some of them will make money!”.

2pm: Having skipped lunch, “I usually have a late breakfast,” explains Jane, she ideally likes to spend another hour practising. She adds that this time of the day is very flexible as she also has a household to run. On days when she really needs to practise, she will often go to a friend’s house so she isn’t distracted seeing the washing piling up or cleaning and other chores that need doing.

3pm: Jane picks her son up from school. There is usually an afternoon activity − or two − which Jane admits is bedlam.

“I swore I wouldn’t do after-school activities, but when kids are really enthusiastic about playing a sport or an instrument, you don’t want to say no.” As well as playing soccer, Bertie also has violin, drum and piano lessons.

On evenings when Jane has concerts, she admits that getting him to and from these activities and herself on to the stage is a rush. “One of the great things about being a mother though is that it puts everything into perspective.” While life may seem overwhelmingly busy at times, Jane says, “I pinch myself daily to realise how lucky I am. To be doing what I’m passionate about and surviving doing it, to have a beautiful son in my life and to create things I find beautiful with my music is pretty special.”

When they finally arrive home, Jane admits she loves spending time alone with her son and when friends call in for a drink, quick meal or to play some music. “If I’m touring, I try to only be away for a couple of days or do it in a week’s block. My ex-husband is great about helping out when I’m away, but I’ve said to Bertie that unless I’m working I will try to be home with him on the days I’ve got him.”

4.45pm: If it’s a Tuesday night, Jane and Bertie will be at a joint piano lesson with a couple who are like brother and sister to Jane, and their two daughters, who are Jane’s “fairy goddaughters”. The lesson goes until 6.45pm and then they have dinner together. Jane sees Tuesday nights as regular “adult contact” for her and if on any other evening she wants to catch up with a friend or see her partner, she’ll organise for Bertie to have a friend over and they will all spend time together at home. “I don’t see the point in having kids if you get them babysat all the time. I want to be his mother, the one who reads to him and puts him to bed.”

8pm: Activities over, it’s time for dinner. A particular favourite at the moment is turkey bolognaise, although Jane says they both make an excellent roast chicken with sausage stuffing, too.

If Jane is performing, she likes to be at the venue an hour before. She also eats dinner at least an hour before playing as she doesn’t like to perform on a full stomach. Only sometimes does she get a few butterflies before going on stage. “I love doing concerts so much; I really look forward to it. When I’m on stage I’m the best I can be.”

Jane feels every concert she performs is a career highlight. “I love being lost in my music and there is an absolute intellectual, spiritual, emotional and physical connection when I play flute at that level,” she says. “When I have that connection and I’m sharing it with thousands of people, they feel that joy, too.” What she particularly loves about music is that it gives a sense of space and time that isn’t easily accessible in Western society these days.

When Jane plays for an audience, she feels part of a “great tradition of flute playing”, helping people feel moved by music and connected. “Bach thought he was a vehicle for God, and whether one is religious or not, there is a sense of humility… I’m gifted, but boy I have to work hard. The reward is being a messenger of mythology.”

9pm: Jane and Bertie lie on his bed after dinner and read together and sing songs. “I used to sing him lullabies, but he now knows them so well he sings them back to me and we end up having a giggle.” Jane cherishes this time together: “It’s all part of the gorgeousness of having a child.” They read everything, including poetry and the classics. Jane is quick to say Bertie doesn’t have a highbrow life, although she loves that they may try to decipher a Shakespearean sonnet or that she will read beautiful poetry aloud and watch him lie there with a dreamy look on his face as he listens. She realises that if she were out every night, she would miss this closeness. “My parents put that time into me; they discussed poetry and books and made sure my access to the world of books, music and art was always present. It’s really important to me as a parent to do that.” The reading and singing will go on for a while. “My son doesn’t go to sleep until 9.30pm or 10pm and we argue about this every night.”

10pm: With Bertie finally asleep, Jane will now do some more practice. Her next album is going to be solo flute, so at the moment she is writing and listening to music late at night. She will also check her emails at this time. “I loved the world before email. There is now always an expectation you will be there all the time,” she laughs.

If it’s a concert night, Jane will have played for close to two hours. After the concert has ended, she hopes someone will bring her a glass of red wine. She will then sign her CDs and meet the audience. “These are the people that make my life possible and this is a way of acknowledging them,” she says.

Jane then goes out for supper with the other musicians she has performed with, where they “drink, talk and laugh for a while. There is usually a sense of hilarity after a concert.”

12am: Jane starts thinking about going to bed, but generally finds another household chore to do. She will also read for a while before switching off the lights, now well after midnight.

By then it will only be a few hours before the light is switched back on and her book reopened.

Photography: Scott Hawkins.