As musicians, we do not always have complete freedom when it comes to choosing what we play. In auditions and competitions, repertoire is often prescribed, sometimes down to very specific pieces or movements. Yet even in these situations, there is frequently more choice than we initially realize. We may be able to select our own concerto movement, choose between several prescribed options, or decide which work to present in a particular round. And then there are the occasions when we are given a completely free choice, whether for an audition, competition or recital. These moments of choice can be much more significant than they first appear to be.
What Does Our Repertoire Say About Us?
Whether we realize it or not, before we have played a single note, the music we have chosen already tells the listener something about us: what interests us, what we value, where our curiosity lies, and, perhaps, even what kind of musician we aspire to become.
This is particularly important in auditions and competitions, where repertoire is not simply a vehicle through which we demonstrate technical ability. It becomes part of our artistic presentation. The right choice can allow us to show something that another piece might conceal. Conversely, an unsuitable choice can make it unnecessarily difficult to communicate our strengths.
When choosing repertoire, it is therefore important to take time to think deeply about what the music makes possible. Which aspects of our technical and musical personality does it bring to the forefront? Does it create the right conditions for individual strengths, musical affinities and artistic ideas to emerge clearly?
In an audition or competition, it is also worth considering the wider context: what repertoire are other candidates most likely to choose, and where might there be an opportunity to make an individual and beneficial unique choice? Standing out does not mean being different for the sake of being different. The most successful selection often balances familiarity with individuality—a piece that fits naturally within the requirements and context, while offering a genuine opportunity to reveal something distinctive about the musician performing it.
Finding the Larger Story
An effective program can benefit from contrasting colors, characters, and styles, allowing different aspects of a performer’s playing to emerge. It can create space for the qualities that come most naturally to the performer, whether that is lyricism, virtuosity, color, rhythm or a particular musical style.
However, a program that on top of these holds a discernible overall arc can often create a much stronger impression. This does not necessarily mean that every work needs to be connected by an explicit narrative or conceptual framework. The relationship between pieces can be much more subtle: a shared musical idea, historical context, geographical origin, emotional atmosphere, instrumentation, or even a carefully considered contrast between works.
When the individual pieces somehow belong together, the listener or audition panel can experience more than a succession of independent works. The program begins to acquire its own internal logic and sense of direction. For the performer, too, this larger perspective can also be valuable, creating a clearer understanding of why each individual work belongs within the program and what role it plays in the overall musical journey.
Making the Most of Free Choice
Whenever there is genuine freedom of repertoire choice, it is worth making full use of it; it can be enormously rewarding to investigate what lies beyond the familiar. Looking through repertoire catalogues, exploring recordings, discovering lesser-known composers and speaking to colleagues and composers themselves can open up an extraordinary range of possibilities.
There may be a wonderful work that is rarely performed but fits a particular performer exceptionally well. There may be an opportunity to commission a new composition, collaborate with a composer, write your own music, or create a transcription. In this sense, a free-choice element can become much more than a practical requirement; it can provide an opportunity to communicate something individual.
When an entire recital is open to choice, the questions can become even broader. What is the idea behind this program? What do I want to bring to the forefront? What would I like the audience to discover, question, or remember? Thinking about these aspects can transform a program into a real and coherent artistic statement.
Think About Stamina
It is surprisingly easy to assemble a collection of works that looks impressive on paper but places an unrealistic demand on the performer when experienced as a complete program. The relevant question is not simply whether every individual piece can be played successfully, but whether we are able to sustain concentration, physical freedom, and expressive energy across the entire performance. Sometimes a slightly more measured program can work more successfully and, ultimately, communicate considerably more.
Read, Play, Discover
Another essential part of making informed repertoire choices is developing a genuine knowledge of what exists. This requires an active curiosity towards unfamiliar music: reading through scores, trying pieces that are not yet part of the repertoire, and exploring composers simply because something about their music attracts our attention.
There is often a considerable difference between hearing a piece, looking at its score, and actually playing it. Music that initially appears inaccessible or uninteresting can reveal completely different qualities once it is experienced through our own playing. Equally, a work that sounds immediately compelling in a recording may feel very different when we begin to inhabit it ourselves.
Regularly exploring unfamiliar repertoire therefore serves several purposes simultaneously. It develops sight-reading, broadens our understanding of the flute’s literature, and exposes us to different musical languages, compositional approaches, and individual artistic voices. It also gradually develops the instinct that enables us to recognize repertoire that may be particularly meaningful for us as performers. And, of course, there is a great deal of pleasure in discovering music simply because we are curious about it.
Look Beyond the Familiar
Through my experience sitting on jury panels and programming committees, I have also become increasingly aware of how we naturally gravitate towards a relatively small group of familiar works. This is entirely understandable. Certain pieces have become part of the established repertoire for very good reasons: they are substantial works, demonstrate particular aspects of flute playing, and provide performers with a reliable artistic framework.
At the same time, it is fascinating to observe what happens when a competition or audition offers several possible choices. Very often, despite having considerable freedom, many performers arrive with remarkably similar programs.
There is certainly nothing inherently wrong with choosing a standard work. However, there can be considerable artistic value in looking a little further, particularly when a less familiar piece allows a distinctive aspect of the performer to emerge. The objective is not to be unusual simply for the sake of being unusual, but to make choices that are thoughtful, appropriate, and genuinely representative of the musician.
Choosing with Intention
Ultimately, repertoire selection is itself an artistic decision. Whether the available freedom is limited to one movement within an audition program or extends to the construction of an entire recital, the music we choose becomes part of the way in which we present ourselves.
The most successful repertoire choice is therefore not necessarily the most technically demanding, fashionable, or unexpected one. It is the choice that creates the strongest relationship between the music and the musician—one that allows technical ability, musical imagination, intellectual curiosity, and individual artistic identity to emerge naturally.
When repertoire is selected with this degree of intention, it becomes more than the material through which we demonstrate our playing. It becomes part of the artistic message itself, and, ultimately, part of the voice we develop as performers.
I hope these points provide some food for thought and encourage you to approach repertoire choice with curiosity, intention, and—above all—enjoyment. After all, discovering what we want to play can be just as rewarding as playing it.