'Canaich' by Duncan Chisholm

3 December 2010

When you think of Scottish folk fiddle music you tend to expect frantic feats of physical dexterity creating toe-tapping dance tunes, so I was intrigued to discover a different side through the music of the amazing Scottish fiddler Duncan Chisholm. Chisholm’s 2008 album ‘Farrar’ is a hauntingly beautiful collection of slow airs and laments – a mixture of traditional tunes and new compositions – quiet and understated but incredibly moving. This week I’ve been listening to ‘Canaich’ – the new album by Duncan Chisholm. This is a more varied collection which includes a few faster dance tunes but it’s the slow, melancholic tracks that grab my attention. Chisholm’s tone is clear and pure – truly beautiful music.

Milton Keynes Sinfonia concert

26 November 2010

A brief history of brass instruments: if you take any narrow metal tube or pipe, open at both ends, put one end to your lips and blow you can produce a musical note. The tighter you press your lips together and the harder you blow the higher the note will be. With most metal tubes you will be able to produce a limited number of different musical notes, based on the frequencies at which the tube will naturally resonate. The longer the tube the more notes will be possible, but even with a very long tube there will be a limit to which notes can be produced – enough for a fanfare but missing the notes in between that you would need to play most melodies. The precise notes available will vary depending on the length of the tube.

One early solution was to create a detachable section of tube that could be removed from the middle of the instrument and replaced with a similar section of a slightly different length. The early version of what we now call the French horn (which is a very long tube curled up to make it portable-enough to play on horseback) used this system of detachable ‘crooks’. But it was not possible to swap crooks fast enough to play a continuous tune requiring notes from the different crooks. A quicker way of altering the overall length of the tube was to create a sliding ‘crook’ that could be moved in or out while playing to vary the total length of the instrument, leading to the development of the trombone.

The alternative was to permanently attach several ‘crooks’ of various lengths to the instrument and create a system of valves to redirect the air through the appropriate pipes as required to make particular notes available to the player. The modern trumpet uses three vertical valves that, when pressed, channel the air through a second set of pipes from those used by default. Combining all three valves creates seven different possible total lengths for the air to travel through, providing the player with access to every possible note.

The modern French horn uses a similar system of valves, except that they rotate to change the direction of the air (rather than moving up and down as on a trumpet). Most horns have levers for the player to press which are attached to the rotary valves by ‘strings’ (thin nylon twine) which pull the valves round to the relevant position.

The reason I’m telling you all this is to set the scene for the Milton Keynes Sinfonia concert I played in last Saturday. The concert opened with the ‘Peer Gynt Suite No. 1’ by Grieg, followed by the Miaskovsky ‘Cello Concerto. Russian composer Nikolai Miaskovsky was a contemporary of Rachmaninov and wrote in a late-romantic style. His ‘cello concerto, written in 1944, is an interesting piece that was completely new to me – a little rambling, maybe, but with some lovely tunes. With the Milton Keynes Sinfonia’s conductor, David Knight, being an extremely accomplished ‘cellist himself, it was no surprise that the soloist he had chosen was something special: German-born ‘cellist Julian Metzger gave an outstanding performance.

I was only involved in the second half of the concert, in which we played Tchaikovsky’s mighty final work, the ‘Pathétique’ Symphony No 6. My role was ‘bumping’ the first horn part, ie doubling the first horn to allow the principal horn player to save himself, in this mammoth stamina-sapping work, for the more delicate solo passages. It started well, but shortly into the second of the four movements of the symphony I heard a snapping sound and realised that the string on my third valve had broken. This made the third valve unusable: replacing the string is a fiddly procedure and not one I was going to be able to accomplish in the middle of a concert, so I resigned myself to having to play the rest of the piece without using the third valve. Fortunately, the third valve is probably the least used but it was still a considerable mental challenge to calculate which notes I could play with an alternative fingering and which I would have to omit entirely – as well as a challenge of physical dexterity, particularly during the faster passages, to make sure I didn’t automatically revert to the familiar fingering patterns. All this made for a nerve-wracking forty minutes. I was fortunate that I was doubling the first horn part and was not the only player responsible for producing those notes. The fact that, after we had finished the performance the principal horn player, David Lack, said he hadn’t noticed my predicament suggests that I got away with it!

The ‘Pathétique’ Symphony is a very emotional piece: the third movement is a brilliant march with a magnificent ending that sounds like it should be the climax of the whole work. Most audiences burst into applause at this point – and our audience in Milton Keynes was no exception – leaving the heart-breakingly beautiful fourth movement to shatter the joy and lead us inevitably into despair. I was amused to discover that, in the tense, silent moments after the last note of the symphony, as orchestra and audience held its collective breath before relaxing into applause, one member of the audience was heard to say "I loved the Tchaikovsky, but what was that funny piece they played as an encore?".

‘La Cenerentola’ by Glyndebourne on Tour

18 November 2010

Regular readers may have spotted that I am not a very frequent opera-goer. I think the last full opera I saw was a production of Verdi’s ‘Falstaff’ in Peterborough in about 1996. But, aware of this gap in our cultural landscape, we took the opportunity of the visit of Glyndebourne on Tour to Milton Keynes Theatre last week to dip our toes in the operatic water. We went to see Peter Hall’s production of ‘La Cenerentola’ by Rossini – which we chose as a relatively light reintroduction to opera and one in which we would have no difficulty following the plot (it’s Cinderella – oh yes it is!). This Cinderella is the fairy tale without the magic – a more realistic version of the story without a fairy godmother or any supernatural transformation – and with a pair of bracelets rather than the more familiar glass slippers. It was interesting to compare this take on the tale with Gregory Maguire’s novel 'Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister' (reviewed here in March 2008) which also strips away the supernatural elements of the story, but somehow manages to create something even more magical in the process. ‘La Cenerentola’ was very enjoyable – high production values and an excellent orchestra, conducted by Enrique Mazzola. The singers were very impressive, particularly Allyson McHardy’s coloratura display as Angelina (Cenerentola) and the tenor Luciano Botelho as Don Ramiro (the Prince). And I loved the Glyndebourne Chorus who were powerful, dramatic and very funny. But, on reflection, maybe choosing a work with such a well-known story was a mistake as the plot really seemed to drag. It was an impressive production but didn’t really knock me off my feet.

Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert

9 November 2010

When I did A-level music, one of the set works was Richard Strauss’ ‘Four Last Songs’: I can remember my music teacher worrying about the decision of the exam board to expose emotional, exam-stressed, teenagers to this melancholy reflection on morbidity. He needn’t have worried on my account: I am immensely grateful for this early discovery of Strauss’ masterpiece, which is now one of my favourite pieces of music and which seems to grow more perfect each time you hear it. It’s achingly sad: I will long remember watching the broadcast of this year’s BBC Proms performance by Sir Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic, which ended with the Finnish soprano, Karita Mattila, staring forward, immovably, into space after singing her last note, her eyes filling with tears. I was not the only member of the Northampton Symphony Orchestra welling up during our performance of the ‘Four Last Songs’ in Northampton on Saturday. Young, local singer, Katherine Crompton, who is currently studying for a Performance Masters at the Royal College of Music, gave a beautiful performance. And it was a huge pleasure to welcome back our principal horn player, David Lack, whose seat I have been keeping warm during his absence through illness. It was wonderful to be able to leave the nerve-racking horn solo at the end of the second song, ‘September’, to Dave who played it exquisitely in his first appearance with the orchestra for 18 months. Not that my nerves were completely off the hook as I took the horn solo at the end of the first movement of Brahms’ ‘Symphony No. 2’ – one of those moments that, as a player, is both enjoyable but also a great relief when it’s over! The second symphony is a cheerful, Beethovenian work which I hadn’t played before. We opened with a powerful performance of Wagner’s ‘Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg Overture’. It feels like the NSO is really developing under the baton of Alexander Walker: it was a great concert.

'Side Show' by The Burns Unit

5 November 2010

Having first met at a Scottish Arts Council funded songwriting retreat in rural Scotland, the unlikely folk-rock-rap supergroup The Burns Unit (pun intended) have created a wonderful first album ‘Side Show’. The (mostly Scottish) Burns Unit are folk singers Karine Polwart (reviewed here in November 2005, April 2006 and April 2008) and Kenny Anderson, former Delgados singer Emma Pollock, rapper MC Soom T, Indo-Scottish bassist Future Pilot AKA, instrumentalist Kim Edgar, drummer Mattie Foulds and pianist Michael Johnston. The result of their collaboration is a varied collection of songs that manage to maintain a coherent overall identity. Some songs could have come straight from a Karine Polwart album (which is no bad thing at all) but the most interesting tracks are those that combine the disparate styles of the contributors – my favourites being those featuring the raps of MC Soom T.

'The Habit of Art’ by Alan Bennett

28 October 2010

Last Friday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre to see the National Theatre production of Alan Bennett’s latest play ‘The Habit of Art’. My expectations were high, as I had been looking forward to seeing how Alan Bennett and director Nicholas Hytner would follow their success with ‘The History Boys’, but I’m afraid I was a bit disappointed. ‘The Habit of Art’ deals with a meeting between WH Auden and Benjamin Britten in their later years to discuss Britten’s new opera, ‘Death in Venice’. But this is actually a play within a play as ‘The Habit of Art’ is set within a National Theatre rehearsal room, showing the actors who will play Auden and Britten rehearsing their lines. This allows for constant interruptions from the stage manager, other actors and the play’s fictional author which creates some clever ambiguities as the ‘actors’ move seamlessly in and out of character. There’s plenty of the dry humour you expect from Bennett and the complexities of integrating this framing device are impressively achieved. But I found the result a little too self-conscious and a bit lacking in plot to drive it forward. In ‘The Lady in the Van’ Bennett famously put two ‘Alan Bennetts’ on stage: in ‘The Habit of Art’ it seemed like there at least four Alan Bennetts vying for our attention (the ‘author’, Auden, Britten, and their biographer, Humphrey Carpenter). Nevertheless, the cast were excellent, particularly Desmond Barrit who had great fun playing Richard Griffiths as ‘Fitz’ as WH Auden.

Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert

21 October 2010

It is the proud boast of the Northampton Symphony Orchestra that the composer Sir Malcolm Arnold played trumpet in the orchestra as a schoolboy in Northampton. So it was particularly fitting for us to be invited to perform in St Matthew’s Church last Saturday as part of The Official Malcolm Arnold Festival 2010. We joined forces with the Abingdon Choral Society under the baton of our mutual conductor Alexander Walker to tackle Arnold’s rarely performed large-scale choral and orchestral work ‘Return of Odysseus’. Perhaps not his greatest work but it was a very interesting experience, and featured some impressive solos from members of the choir. We also performed the Concert Suite from Malcolm Arnold’s ballet ‘Sweeney Todd’. This was also a new piece to me and seemed more quintessentially Arnold with some great tunes, dramatic effects and tongue firmly in cheek. ‘Sweeney Todd’ combines dark menace with the cheery spirit of music hall: it was an effective and exciting performance that seemed to be greatly appreciated by an enthusiastic audience of Malcolm Arnold aficionados.

'Hedonism' by Bellowhead

15 October 2010

I was very excited to get hold of a copy of the new album from the brilliant English folk big band Bellowhead (reviewed here in October 2006 and February 2009) this week. ‘Hedonism’ is the band’s third album and it doesn’t disappoint. Bellowhead continue to push the boundaries of their own peculiar sub-genre, enlisting the help of experienced rock music producer John Leckie, and ‘Hedonism’ has a more varied and experimental feel than its predecessors. But the characteristic Bellowhead swagger is still strongly in evidence and the best tracks sound engagingly familiar, even on the first listen. I’m not sure all the diversions into jazz and funk completely work (strangely the semi-spoken rendition of ‘the Hand Weaver and the Factory Maid’ reminds me of ‘Shopping for Clothes’ by The Coasters – not typical territory for an English folk song!). But the best of ‘Hedonism’ is Bellowhead at its best: the impossibly catchy opening track ‘New York Girls’ is a perfect example. Tap, whistle, stamp, sing, dance: you know you want to!

The Brickhill Messiah

8 October 2010

The area just to the South and East of Milton Keynes is known as the Brickhills. Long before the development of Milton Keynes, these villages boasted a strong choral tradition linked to the local churches. In 2007 a group of local residents, many of whom take part in amateur music groups in Milton Keynes and Northampton, established Music in the Brickhills to present live music in the Brickhill villages in order to raise money for local and national charities. On Saturday we were at St Mary’s Church in Great Brickhill to see the fourth annual Brickhill Messiah. Handel himself developed the idea of charity performances of his oratorio, perhaps the best known of which were his annual fundraisers for the Foundling Hospital. So we felt part of a venerable tradition as we joined an enthusiastic local audience last weekend to raise money for nearby Willen Hospice. I had never been to a full performance of the Messiah before (well there are no parts for French horns!) and it was fascinating to discover such a well known work for the first time. It’s a mammoth undertaking and the Brickhill Messiah was a very impressive achievement. Even with quite a few cuts, the performance lasted more than two and half hours (including an interval). All the soloists were amateurs, drawn from the chorus, and it was lovely to see them taking their opportunities to shine: it would be unfair to single anyone out but there were some really fantastic singers on show. The powerful chorus, including singers from the nearby Danesborough Chorus and Milton Keynes Chorale, created a wonderful sound and the final chorus (“Worthy is the lamb”) was a stunning finale. The band of local musicians was also of a very high standard. The performance was extremely enjoyable, its few rough edges merely reminding you what a challenge the Messiah is and making the many magic moments all the more special.

'Teechers’ by John Godber

29 September 2010

On Saturday we were back at the Theatre Royal in Bury St Edmunds to see the Hull Truck Theatre Company production of ‘Teechers’ by John Godber. ‘Teechers’ was written in 1987 (though it’s clearly been updated with references to mobile phones etc) and is a classic Hull Truck production with three actors playing a multitude of characters with a bare minimum of set and props but conjuring up a vivid picture of school life. Sitting historically and stylistically somewhere between a Joyce Grenfell monologue and Alan Bennett’s ‘The History Boys’, ‘Teechers’ is funny, moving and extremely enjoyable.

‘Steel Magnolias’ by Robert Harling

29 September 2010

Last Friday we were at the TADS Theatre in Toddington to see ‘Steel Magnolias’ by Robert Harling. Having not seen the 1989 film, I came to the play without knowing what to expect and was very impressed. ‘Steel Magnolias’ is set in a beauty parlour in a small town in Louisiana in which six women meet, talk and have their hair done. Taking on the challenge of live hairdressing and manicures on stage while maintaining impeccable Southern accents is no mean feat for an amateur company but one accomplished very slickly by TADS. I liked the episodic nature of the play: there are four scenes between which months or years have passed and you have to read between the lines to work out what has happened to each of the characters since you last saw them. The script is very witty with some extremely funny lines, which makes the tragic finale all the more poignant – maybe a little overly sentimental but there certainly wasn’t a dry eye in the house. The beauty parlour set was beautifully realised with a random assortment of mirrors around and above the stage which provided wonderful tableaux of the characters from different angles, allowing you to see the faces of actors even when they had their backs to the audience. The TADS production was very well cast: I particularly liked Tricia O’Toole, who gave Shelby just the right mixture of knowingness and naivety, and Rachel Birks as the beauty parlour proprietor Truvy. Truvy is a short, blonde woman with high heels, big hair and a big bust: I wonder which part Dolly Parton played in the film?!

'Bus Stop' by William Inge

23 September 2010

The Theatre by the Lake in Keswick really is, as the name implies, right on the shore of Derwent Water. It’s a beautiful setting for a lovely auditorium which is home to an impressive repertory company which tackles a rotating, varied programme of plays over the summer months: as in Pitlochry it is possible to stay a week and see several plays. We saw William Inge’s play ‘Bus Stop’ – chiefly remembered for having been made into a film starring Marilyn Monroe. Inge knew Tennessee Williams and you can see his influence but ‘Bus Stop’ is a lighter, less intense work than the classic Williams plays. It’s a great dramatic premise: when a cross-country bus is held up by bad weather, the passengers have to spend the night in a diner in a small town in Kansas. This allows for a series of hushed conversations, leading to confrontations and revelations as the night wears on and the liquor flows. At first the play has a light, comic feel with broadly drawn cartoon characters. But as the story develops there is much more to it than you initially expect. ‘Bus Stop’ is a clever, sad and funny work with some dark undertones. It also boasts two great comic set-piece scenes in the second and third acts. The Theatre by the Lake production was very effective and extremely well-cast with Amy Ewbank just right as Cherie and Patrick Bridgman subtly stealing the show as the thoughtful cowboy Virgil. Cherie, the main character, is a ditzy, blonde night-club singer hoping to escape to a better life: at the interval I was amused to hear the woman sitting behind me ask her companion “which part did Marilyn Monroe play in the film?”!

Cumbria

23 September 2010

We had a great time last week exploring the Lake District and the Yorkshire Dales. We stayed at a cottage near Kirkby Stephen, ideally placed for both national parks, and enjoyed wonderful walks in the Eden Valley, Swaledale (along part of the Pennine Way), Cunswick Scar and the banks of Ullswater. We also made a long overdue first visit to the Theatre by the Lake at Keswick. We were particularly impressed by Farfield Mill at Sedbergh – a converted mill which now houses artist studios, heritage crafts demonstrations, a museum telling the story of the mill and a great café: it’s a clever and effective blend of contemporary and heritage crafts and visual arts.

‘Deaf Sentence’ by David Lodge

10 September 2010

I’ve just finished reading ‘Deaf Sentence’, the latest novel by David Lodge. It’s been a while since I’ve read anything by David Lodge (‘Home Truths’ reviewed here in September 2009) and is was a pleasure to remind myself how much I like his style. ‘Deaf Sentence’ draws on his own experience of losing his hearing and provides a tragic-comic guide to the inconveniences of deafness. But the real theme of the book is death: this is fairly dark territory for David Lodge and it’s a very sad novel - though not without his trademark humour and lightness of touch. Despite the impending sense that all was not going to end well, it gripped my attention and I very much enjoyed the journey. ‘Deaf Sentence’ is a study of family relationships and an ailing parent and reminded me of the similarities between David Lodge’s novels and those of Anne Tyler (such as ‘Noah’s Compass’ reviewed here in May 2010) while also making me think of 'The Corrections' by Jonathan Franzen, 'A Spot of Bother' by Mark Haddon (reviewed here in June 2007) and 'The Promise of Happiness' by Justin Cartwright (reviewed here in January 2008). But with its academic setting and references to Catholicism it’s unmistakeably David Lodge. He wears his research lightly and I enjoyed the references to linguistics. ‘Deaf Sentence’ is another accomplished, entertaining, moving and thought-provoking novel by a master of the genre.

Edinburgh Festivals 2010

3 September 2010

We had a great week at the Edinburgh festivals: we managed to get to 24 shows, most of which were of a really high standard. Highlights included Midori playing Bernstein’s ‘Serenade’ with the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra at the Usher Hall, the Aberdeen Performing Arts/His Majesty’s Theatre production of ‘Sunset Song’, adapted from the classic novel by Lewis Grassic Gibbon by Alastair Cording, at the Assembly Rooms, and the Bear Trap Theatre production of ‘Bound’ by Jesse Briton at Zoo Southside. ‘Bound’ was a quintessential fringe theatre show – six men in sou'westers evoking the gritty reality of life on a fishing trawler in a tiny studio theatre, using only some chairs, a table and a swinging lightbulb with some great sea shanties interspersing the scenes. We also enjoyed the amazing juggling of Belgian clowns ‘Pas Perdus’ (thanks Kelly!), Canadian rapper Baba Brinkman performing hip-hop versions of the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Kalevala and Beowulf, Tom Wainwright’s dream narrative ‘Pedestrian’ and ‘Invisible Atom’, Anthony Black's one-man show encompassing quantum physics, free market economics and philosophy – with hilarious consequences! Tim Crouch’s ‘The Author’ at the Traverse was a fascinating, impressive and deeply uncomfortable experience: two sets of raked seating forced the audience to face itself with no stage in between and there was a lot of silent uncertainty before actors planted in the audience began to reveal themselves and a story very slowly started to emerge in a disjointed and non-linear way. The show tests the patience of the audience – and several people walked out when we saw it. For those who persevered the narrative did come to a conclusion but one which was shocking and unsettling. ‘The Author’ is a very powerful piece of theatre that plays with the boundaries between actors and audience, fiction and reality.

‘Stuart: A Life Backwards’ by Alexander Masters

19 August 2010

I’ve been reading ‘Stuart: A Life Backwards’ by Alexander Masters, the fascinating, unorthodox biography of Stuart Shorter – a tale of life on the streets, prison, drugs, violence, self-harm and sexual abuse. Much of Stuart’s story is shocking and distressing but in Masters’ telling Stuart emerges as a compelling, funny, impressive and likeable personality – a triumph of finding the person amongst the problems. Masters intersperses the account of his own relationship with Stuart with the story of Stuart’s life before they met, told chronologically backwards. This gradual revelation unpicks the chain of episodes that have led Stuart to the situation in which we first encounter him. It’s an innovative approach which really helps you to understand the whole person but I also found the flitting backwards and forwards a little distracting. ‘Stuart: A Life Backwards’ is an amazing book – not quite like anything I have read before – not always easy reading but very effective at making you think about the whole nature of our society in very different ways. It’s funny how most of our debates about class tend to ignore the homeless underclass who see people who live on a council estate as ‘posh’.

'Inception' by Christopher Nolan

9 August 2010

I like a bit of ambiguity in a film: the trick is getting the right balance between telegraphing the plot and creating something so complex it is frustratingly unfathomable. For me, Christopher Nolan’s new film ‘Inception’ achieved just the right balance, starting by bombarding you with confusion then allowing you to gradually – and very satisfyingly – start to piece everything together before leaving you with a lingering soupçon of ambiguity. I really enjoyed Nolan’s breakthrough film, 'Memento' (reviewed here in February 2007) and he does seem to bring a refreshingly creative complexity to everything he does. ‘Inception’ involves Leonardo DiCaprio leading a team who go into someone’s dreams to plant an idea. The surreal nature of dreams within dreams works (once you get the hang of it) because it maintains its own strict logic. The special effects are amazing: as characters walk up walls and along ceilings, and streets full of buildings fold over on top of themselves, it all manages to appear ‘real’ rather than obviously computer-generated. And I loved what I hope were a number of knowing references and in-jokes – absolutely unessential to your struggle to comprehend the plot but terribly satisfying when you spot them. For example, a fleeting cameo from Pete Postlethwaite seemed to me to be a reference to ‘The Usual Suspects’, famous for its own puzzles about what is real and what is imaginary. And surely it wasn’t a coincidence that DiCaprio’s wife is played by Marion Cotillard, best known for her Oscar-winning role in ‘La vie en rose’, and the musical trigger DiCaprio’s team use to communicate to each other in the dreams is Édith Piaf singing ‘Non, je ne regrette rien’? These clever hidden references (and I bet there were heaps more I didn’t spot) reminded me of the allusions to Kate Bush lyrics in David Mitchell’s novel ‘number9dream’ – absolutely nothing to do with the plot but terribly pleasing when you notice them. ‘Inception’ is not an easy film to follow but it’s well worth the struggle – proper complicated!

‘Quartet’ by Ronald Harwood

3 August 2010

Last Saturday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre to see ‘Quartet’ by Ronald Harwood – a play about four aging opera singers meeting each other again in a retirement home for musicians and planning to reprise their famous performance of the quartet from Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto’. It was cleverly written exploration of growing old and differing attitudes to aging – and provided great roles for a quartet of well-known actors of a certain age: Timothy West, Susannah York, Michael Jayston and Gwen Taylor. A gentle play and a little bit predictable but enjoyable and inspiring – and really made me want to see ‘Rigoletto’.

WOMAD 2010

27 July 2010

I had a great time at the WOMAD Festival at Charlton Park in Wiltshire last weekend. It was near-perfect festival weather – dry all weekend but not too hot. I saw 28 bands in total, ranging from the Cuban son of Sierra Maestra to the West African funk of Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou from Benin, to the Pakistani devotional singing of Rizwan-Muazzam Qawwali. There was a distinctly humorous flavour to this year’s festival which included lounge versions of ‘Ever Fallen in Love’ and ‘Blue Monday’ by the French group Nouvelle Vague, the politest singalong version you will ever hear of ‘Anarchy in the UK’ led by the excellent Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain and the surreal experience of being part of a massive crowd singing ‘Stairway to Heaven’ with octogenarian world music original Rolf Harris! Rolf was on fine form, entering into a conversation with every heckler and signing ‘thank you’ to the sign language interpreter at the side of the stage who was struggling to translate the nonsense words and farmyard noises of one of his songs. I particularly enjoyed hearing the young Iraqui oud player Khyam Allami, accompanied by the amazing Italian master percussionist Andrea Piccioni who could make a tambourine (well actually a tambourella) sound like an entire drum kit. And I would have liked to have heard more of Kormac’s Big Band – the live hip-hop orchestra from Dublin who include a barbershop quartet alongside the eponymous DJ. I loved watching Takht Al Emarat – a group of seven very serious, straight-faced young men from the United Arab Emirates who played some lovely traditional classical music. I don’t think any of the musicians could speak English so the gaps between pieces were just a brief embarrassed silence but as the enthusiasm of the crowd grew, you could start to see a few smiles creeping onto the faces of the players and by the final rapturous reception they were beaming from ear to ear. It was also great to see the Bavarian group LaBrassBanda really working a huge festival crowd with their unique take on fast-pumping techno dance music played on trumpet, trombone and tuba. The incredible Staff Benda Bilili (reviewed here in November 2009) were on excellent form and it was good to see the late great Charlie Gillett remembered by having a stage named in his honour. But I think my two favourite performances were by Lepistö & Lehti and Chumbawamba. Accordionist Markku Lepistö and double bass player Pekka Lehti are former members of the Finnish band Värttinä and have created a lovely album (called ‘Helsinki’) of contemporary tunes drawing on the Finnish folk tradition. They are gently engaging performers and played a wonderful set on the BBC Radio 3 stage in the arboretum on Saturday afternoon. I had never seen Chumbawamba before but was completely bowled over by their appearance on Friday evening. Their ‘Tubthumping’ days are now a historical footnote (and they resolutely resisted many calls to perform their solitary hit) but they are still articulate, witty and strongly political. Incorporating traditional English folk songs, acapella voices, catchy tunes, radical messages and fascinating stories, they were excellent and I strongly recommend their 17^th album ‘abcdefg’ – “a concept album about music”.

Gilberto Gil

22 July 2010

Following the ‘Point of Culture’ debate at the Purcell Room on Wednesday, I made my way next door to the Royal Festival Hall, together with Alan Davey, Jude Kelly and my Points of Contact colleagues, to see the legendary Brazilian musician Gilberto Gil give a rare UK concert as part of the Southbank Centre’s ‘Festival Brazil’. Gil was a key figure in the Tropicália movement in the 1960s and spent time in London when exiled from Brazil by the military dictatorship. More recently, of course, he was the instigator of the Cultura Viva programme and its ‘Pontos de Cultura’ scheme which I visited Brazil in March to observe. But on Wednesday his performance was a celebration of forró – the high-tempo, rapid-fire dance music of Gil’s home territory of the North East of Brazil. He also included a few examples of something I think he called ‘shott’ – a corruption of ‘Scottish’ – which blends forró with European folk dance music to create a strange Brazilian version of Scottish country dance tunes: bizarre, surreal but still incredibly cool. Forró is infectious, toe-tapping music featuring the distinctive syncopated tinkling of a triangle, with accordion, violin, banjo, guitars and drums. Gil’s version is turbo-charged forró with electric guitars and a rock flavour but it still has that traditional rural party-music feel – a little like rockabilly. There was some jeering from fans upset at not hearing Gil’s greatest hits: imagine going to see a Paul McCartney concert only to discover that he wasn’t going to play any Beatles songs but was going to do 2 hours of skiffle (but actually, wouldn’t that be amazing?!). Gil is a bit Paul McCartney, a bit Bob Marley, a bit Chuck Berry and a bit Nelson Mandela. For all his legendary status as sixties pop icon and exiled political activist, it is hard not to keep returning to Gil’s appointment as Minister of Culture in President Lula’s first government. As Gil jigged his way across the stage, a little grandfatherly but still incredibly cool, I couldn’t decide whether it was more amusing to imagine a British rock star becoming a government minister or to picture a government minister dancing in front of a packed Festival Hall audience.