Paul Cheneour's unusual career as a flautist began almost by chance and relatively late in life, at the age of 19. Growing up near the sea, Paul's first memory as a child is of sun and sand, and the 'sound of rocks all humming around me.' Somehow, he escaped 'school music' and thus, in his own words, the need for 'unlearning' set forms and techniques. However, from an early age, Paul inadvertently undertook what he believes to be the perfect training for his future career.

As a keen swimmer, Paul learned how to control and manipulate his breath, swimming for long stretches of time underwater necessitated being able to take in a large reservoir of air, and the ability to release it in a slow and deliberate manner. Years later, this breath control was the ideal vehicle by which he could willingly draw in a large air column and learn how to vibrate it at will when playing.

	Paul Cheneour

Other useful disciplines learned as a youngster were judo and aikido, which Paul practised diligently. The strict control, poise, importance of posture and physicality were all to be drawn on in his later musical life. From early on he was to learn that the only way to learn was from direct experience and that you cannot go further than you understand. 'You can't fake it', he says, and even now stresses the importance of patience and quality practice rather than mere quantity; practice needs to be carried out regularly but with a full awareness and presence, not mere mechanical repetition, which can be destructive. Teaching physical muscles to remember patterns was to be a prime skill in his later life.

Despite experimentations with the recorder and guitar, it was not until his late teens that Paul tried what he regards as his first real musical instrument, the flute, and, despite no conventional training, immediately felt a rapport with it. He said that he was able to play it 'quite naturally', almost as though he had refound a long-lost friend. Initially he taught himself to play, being attracted to jazz melodies that were popular at the time, but soon found his own style of playing, which emphasised listening closely 'inside each individual sound and vibrating with it' before moving on to where that sound would lead. For Paul, the sound was 'spontaneous' and 'alive;' not based on the mechanical repetition of phrases; each note was new whenever it was played. This approach was not in keeping with the conventional music he had thus far experienced. At the age of 21, he applied to the Guildhall School of Music and Drama and was accepted-from this moment on, music became the dominant focus of his life.

Always feeling slightly 'out on a limb' on the jazz circuits and classical music scene, where he was to play for many years, the music of which he felt remained in a kind of 'time warp', Paul was astounded when he heard some Sufi flute playing in 1992. This was the music that he had been somehow practising on his own; although feeling somehow that it was 'funny music' and that he was breaking with convention, he did not realise that in fact he was working within a tradition that went back thousands of years in its own right, a tradition to which Paul felt an immediate close affinity. He had finally found a home in the music world.

Instead of using the usual diatonic scales, Paul developed his own harmonic language by chromatically linking together two or three harmonic minor scales, allowing himself to move from any one note or scale to another without the need for cadential points or modulatory devices. In that same way the he had experimented with the recorder and guitar whilst at school, his music followed the rhythms that he felt were so 'natural' to him.

Much of his career has been spent in teaching, which has been executed in a number of different settings including junior schools, music centres, teacher training colleges, universities and even a Category B prison! At each, Paul is keen to encourage a creative learning process that is alive to the creative needs of a student. He regards that formal education as being little other than a slavish copying process, devoid of personal identification or meaning, a process that can often destroy any sort of originality the student has. For Paul, as with the Sufi masters, education is learning to be alive for each moment and to find full expression of one's inner creativity and talent. It is 'learning how to listen' and from there, how to respond.

He begins his classes by teaching students both young and old how to use full diaphragmatic breathing. A simple observation technique to determine the quality of breath control is used by holding a hand in front of the mouth and blowing onto it; if a fine 'pencil-jet' like stream of air is felt, the breath is under control. If the air feels like a 'splat', it is too widely scattered and needs to be centred more. When controlled, the air can be used to give voice to the instrument.

For very long phrases, Paul uses circular breathing techniques, breathing in and out at the same time: as he says, 'it feels like one's own breath… instead of singing, you use the instrument to sing for you. There is a constant state of flux, of movement, which is translated through the breath into sound. This sound can be a very moving experience, helping both to release and to give voice to inner emotions.' Paul has found that teaching has been particularly beneficial in prisons, where students have found new expression through music. Just as life can be a process of taking control or manipulation, so the student learns how to take a greater responsibility, how to 'play' the instrument of life.

Recently, Paul met the talented tabla player, Dilly Meah, with whom he immediately felt a rapport. Although they both came from different musical backgrounds, they began to experiment musically, to produce what Paul refers to as a 'creative fusion of East and West, moving together into new territories of sound and ideas.'

Although he has never practiced yoga asanas, he follows a regular meditation practice in the Sufi tradition; his music has become a sort of meditation in itself. As Paul explains, 'What I try to do now is to play what I heard when I was a child and it's a memory that's deep within. In order to let this out you have to be very still. The ego side of myself has to be removed so that I can just let this sound come through and I believe this is the same way for Dilly as well.'

Paul's CD recording, The Time has Come was reviewed in last month's issue of MusicTeachers.co.uk's Online Journal. To find out more about Paul, visit http://www.redgoldmusic.com/