25 April 2013
The
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert last Saturday included two very
contrasting works. Dvorak’s ‘Symphony No 9 (From the New World)’ is incredibly
well-known and instantly likeable but shines through its familiarity. I think our
performance brought out both the warmth and the excitement of the work – with
an excellent Cor Anglais solo from Simon Cooper. Bartok’s ‘Concerto for
Orchestra’ is a much more complex and challenging piece and was much less
familiar to the orchestra or its audience. By our final rehearsal we were just
beginning to make sense of the music and I there was an intense air of concentration
during our performance but I think we managed to demonstrate the magnificence
of the piece.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Heliotrope Chamber Ensemble concert
17 April 2013
For an orchestral musician, playing chamber music can be a scary experience. In a small group there is nowhere to hide and you don’t get the lengthy breaks that brass players are used to in the symphonic repertoire. But chamber music is rewarding in a different way to larger works. It is satisfying and enjoyable being part of a small team, where every individual is vital to the whole, everyone gets their moment in the spotlight and everyone has a degree of control over the performance. I was, therefore, both delighted and terrified to have been invited to join the Heliotrope Chamber Ensemble for their concert at Abington Avenue United Reformed Church in Northampton last Saturday.
For an orchestral musician, playing chamber music can be a scary experience. In a small group there is nowhere to hide and you don’t get the lengthy breaks that brass players are used to in the symphonic repertoire. But chamber music is rewarding in a different way to larger works. It is satisfying and enjoyable being part of a small team, where every individual is vital to the whole, everyone gets their moment in the spotlight and everyone has a degree of control over the performance. I was, therefore, both delighted and terrified to have been invited to join the Heliotrope Chamber Ensemble for their concert at Abington Avenue United Reformed Church in Northampton last Saturday.
We were
tackling a new piece for double wind quintet by the American composer Jeff
Scott. ‘Sacred Women’ was first performed at the Nevada Flute Association
Conference in Las Vegas in August 2012 and ours was to be the first performance
outside North America. ‘Sacred Women’ celebrates three female deities – the
Egyptian god Isis, Caribbean Iemanja and African Mawu. It is a fiendishly
difficult piece – tuneful, atmospheric and rhythmically complex. All ten parts
are incredibly challenging and it was very hard work trying to fit it all
together.
We were
fortunate that Frank Jordan and the other regular members of the Heliotrope
Wind Quintet had assembled a very impressive group of musicians and we were
grateful for the services of conductor Stephen Bell to help us pull it
together. We also benefited from working with the recording of the work’s
Nevada premiere and some of our group managed to talk to the composer after a
recent recital at the Wigmore Hall in London. By Saturday evening, however, it
still felt a bit touch and go. Concentration levels were high and nerves were
jangling but I think we had all come to really like the piece and we were
looking forward to trying to do it justice.
The concert
got off to an excellent start with Kimberley Chang playing the lengthy,
haunting, opening alto flute solo beautifully. While we may have been guilty of
a few missed entries and wrong notes, most of the performance went really well
– with several excellent cadenzas, sensitive playing and rhythmic neatness.
Even the most complex, multi-layered passage of competing rhythms in the middle
of the last movement finished with us perfectly together.
As we
approached the very end of the work, however, I was aware that my most
difficult solo line was still looming. Out of silence the first horn is
required to play a series of unaccompanied notes rising to a long, held, top
‘C’. Top ‘C’ is a note which is theoretically possible on a French horn but
rarely called upon. I knew I could manage to hit it but whether I would, at the
end of a complete performance of the piece, in the pressure of the live concert
atmosphere, was another matter. In the passage leading up to this solo we found
ourselves playing at a faster, adrenaline-fuelled, pace than we had rehearsed
and by the time we reached the silent pause I could feel my heart pumping fast.
I took a deep breath and went for it. I was aware of the top ‘C’ emerging, but
it sounded weak and squeaky and I realised I was running out of breath. As I
tried to hold the note for its full length, my head began to ache and I could
feel that I was close to passing out. I managed to hit the following notes and
grab a lungful of air. Then I realised that the others were waiting for me to
continue with the next part of the tune. I pushed my way through to the end of
the line and recovered sufficiently during the following rests to be able to
join in with the final bars of the piece which finished triumphantly.
I am not sure
what the audience made of this odd, squealing interlude towards the end of the
piece – I hope it sounded worse to me than to anyone else – but overall I think
our performance of ‘Sacred Women’ was fairly presentable, with some really
excellent playing. I was completely drained at the end – and in awe of those of
my colleagues who went on to play two further pieces. I enjoyed the rest of the
concert from the audience, discovering two other incredibly tuneful chamber
works that were completely new to me.
Eric Ewazen’s
‘Roaring Fork’ is a contemporary wind quintet that conjures up the Rocky
Mountains with a feel of Aaron Copland’s American soundscapes. And the ‘Nonet’
by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, written in 1894, is a gorgeous piece for oboe,
clarinet, horn, bassoon, violin, viola, ‘cello, double bass and piano. It was a
lovely concert and I really enjoyed the experience of working with the
Heliotrope Chamber Ensemble towards our performance of Jeff Scott’s ‘Sacred
Women’, but I’m looking forward to returning to the relative safety of my
position in the ranks of the Northampton Symphony Orchestra.
You can hear
extracts from the Nevada premiere of ‘Sacred Women’ at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnvLtIIXO5A
and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnf15_FhsHg.
Friday, April 12, 2013
'Parks and Recreation'
12 April 2013
Mock documentaries are hardly a new phenomenon: Rob Reiner’s seminal ‘This Is Spinal Tap’ was released in 1984. But, in recent years, the success of ‘The Office’ (on both sides of theAtlantic ) has led to a rekindling of the
mockumentary sitcom. For some people the high cringe factor of ‘The Office’
made it almost unwatchable – it was often painfully funny. Greg Daniels’ new US
TV series ‘Parks and Recreation’ is much gentler and I’m completely hooked. Leslie
Knope, Deputy Director of Parks and Recreation in Pawnee, Indiana (wonderfully
played by Amy Poehler) is typical of the naïve, self-deluding, somewhat stupid
protagonists of most mockumentaries – but, unlike David Brent, Leslie Knope is
a really sympathetic character and we are completely on her side. She’s also
slightly more knowing than she first appears, often realising afterwards what a
stupid thing she has just done. Actually the whole cast of regular characters
in ‘Parks and Recreation’ are pretty likeable: they all have their faults but
they are basically nice people. ‘Parks and Recreation’ is also laugh-out-loud
funny in quite an old-fashioned way despite the modern mockumentary approach.
It creates ridiculous situations (the penguin gay marriage) and treats them
seriously. The tone is more Laurel and Hardy than David Brent – and there’s
some nice slapstick too. Best of all the nature of the documentary that appears
to be being filmed is never mentioned: all the characters give knowing looks to
camera but no-one ever explains why there are cameras in someone’s living room.
All of ‘Parks and Recreation’ series 2 is still on BBC iPlayer: if you haven’t
tried it yet I would recommend taking a look. Who knew local government could
be so funny and charming!
Mock documentaries are hardly a new phenomenon: Rob Reiner’s seminal ‘This Is Spinal Tap’ was released in 1984. But, in recent years, the success of ‘The Office’ (on both sides of the
Thursday, April 04, 2013
'Mr Whatnot' by Alan Ayckbourn
4 April 2013
I’ve always loved comedy dancing – providing it is done with straight-faced seriousness like Laurel and Hardy in ‘Way Out West’ – and there was some great serious comedy dancing in the Northampton Royal and Derngate production of ‘Mr Whatnot’ by Alan Ayckbourn which we saw on Wednesday. Ayckbourn is known for his realistic dialogue and characters but this very early work (this production marks its 50th anniversary) displays neither of these traits. ‘Mr Whatnot’ is a celebration of mime and comic caricature – and it was laugh-out-loud funny. The Northampton production is directed by Cal McCrystal who was Physical Comedy Director for the National Theatre production of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ (reviewed here in October 2011) and has previously worked with the marvellous Spymonkey (reviewed here in February 2012). He has created a wonderful combination of physical theatre, mime, dance and slapstick which is charmingly silly. ‘Mr Whatnot’ is a stage cousin of the silent film comedy genre with a character at its heart that could have been played by Buster Keaton or Norman Wisdom. Though there is some dialogue, most of the action is conveyed by mime, involving perfect co-ordination with an extensive range of sound effects. The speechless hero (played here by Juanma Rodriguez) is a loveable chancer with a twinkle in his eye and a strong sense of mischief. There is very little plot, some remarkably over-the-top acting and it’s all terribly childish, but on Wednesday it had a packed audience laughing uncontrollably all the way through. ‘Mr Whatnot’ is not what we have come to think of as an Alan Ayckbourn play but this production was great fun.
I’ve always loved comedy dancing – providing it is done with straight-faced seriousness like Laurel and Hardy in ‘Way Out West’ – and there was some great serious comedy dancing in the Northampton Royal and Derngate production of ‘Mr Whatnot’ by Alan Ayckbourn which we saw on Wednesday. Ayckbourn is known for his realistic dialogue and characters but this very early work (this production marks its 50th anniversary) displays neither of these traits. ‘Mr Whatnot’ is a celebration of mime and comic caricature – and it was laugh-out-loud funny. The Northampton production is directed by Cal McCrystal who was Physical Comedy Director for the National Theatre production of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ (reviewed here in October 2011) and has previously worked with the marvellous Spymonkey (reviewed here in February 2012). He has created a wonderful combination of physical theatre, mime, dance and slapstick which is charmingly silly. ‘Mr Whatnot’ is a stage cousin of the silent film comedy genre with a character at its heart that could have been played by Buster Keaton or Norman Wisdom. Though there is some dialogue, most of the action is conveyed by mime, involving perfect co-ordination with an extensive range of sound effects. The speechless hero (played here by Juanma Rodriguez) is a loveable chancer with a twinkle in his eye and a strong sense of mischief. There is very little plot, some remarkably over-the-top acting and it’s all terribly childish, but on Wednesday it had a packed audience laughing uncontrollably all the way through. ‘Mr Whatnot’ is not what we have come to think of as an Alan Ayckbourn play but this production was great fun.
'The Virgin Suicides' by Jeffrey Eugenides
4 April 2013
I really enjoyed Jeffrey Eugenides’ 2002 novel ‘Middlesex’ and its successor ‘The Marriage Plot’ (reviewed here in August 2012) but I have only just got around to reading the book that made his name, his 1993 debut novel ‘The Virgin Suicides’ (which was later filmed by Sofia Coppola). The concept of a story about five teenage sisters committing suicide hadn’t seemed very appealing but the book is much funnier than I was expecting. There is a macabre black humour throughout that is extremely entertaining without ever belittling the seriousness of the events. The novel is beautifully written and very witty (“[he] arrived every morning with the hopeless expression of a man draining a swamp with a kitchen sponge”). The story is told by nameless neighbours of the doomed girls through their first-hand observations of the tragic happenings and a series of interviews – many years later – with members of the family and the wider community. Eugenides builds a detailed picture of a neighbourhood containing a host of idiosyncratic characters which reminded me of John Steinbeck’s ‘Cannery Row’. And the way the narrative is constructed through interviews with the ageing protagonists long after the events they are describing made me think of ‘Citizen Kane’. ‘The Virgin Suicides’ does exactly what it says on the cover – but it’s a much more entertaining and enjoyable journey than you might expect.
I really enjoyed Jeffrey Eugenides’ 2002 novel ‘Middlesex’ and its successor ‘The Marriage Plot’ (reviewed here in August 2012) but I have only just got around to reading the book that made his name, his 1993 debut novel ‘The Virgin Suicides’ (which was later filmed by Sofia Coppola). The concept of a story about five teenage sisters committing suicide hadn’t seemed very appealing but the book is much funnier than I was expecting. There is a macabre black humour throughout that is extremely entertaining without ever belittling the seriousness of the events. The novel is beautifully written and very witty (“[he] arrived every morning with the hopeless expression of a man draining a swamp with a kitchen sponge”). The story is told by nameless neighbours of the doomed girls through their first-hand observations of the tragic happenings and a series of interviews – many years later – with members of the family and the wider community. Eugenides builds a detailed picture of a neighbourhood containing a host of idiosyncratic characters which reminded me of John Steinbeck’s ‘Cannery Row’. And the way the narrative is constructed through interviews with the ageing protagonists long after the events they are describing made me think of ‘Citizen Kane’. ‘The Virgin Suicides’ does exactly what it says on the cover – but it’s a much more entertaining and enjoyable journey than you might expect.
Wednesday, April 03, 2013
'Rutherford & Son' by Githa Sowerby
3 April 2013
One of the highlights of our visit to the Edinburgh Fringe last August was Hannah Davies’ one-woman show ‘Githa’ which told the story of the early 20th century playwright Githa Sowerby and the amazing success of her first play ‘Rutherford & Son’ in 1912. So I was delighted to see that Northern Broadsides are touring a new production of ‘Rutherford & Son’, directed by Jonathan Miller, edited (and relocated from the North East to Yorkshire) by Blake Morrison and starring Northern Broadsides Artistic Director Barrie Rutter as the patriarchal tyrant John Rutherford. We saw the play at Watford Palace Theatre on Saturday and it didn’t disappoint. It’s a grim tale of a ruthless industrialist who has built a successful family firm (a glassworks) and rules over both the firm and his family with a fierce uncompromising determination. The plight of the women in the family in particular – whom Rutherford barely deigns to talk to – is emphasised by the gloom of the barely lit set. But the Northern Broadsides production manages to find humour amongst the desperation. And ‘Rutherford & Son’ has a very clever and well-plotted twist. An excellent play by a pioneering but largely forgotten female playwright.
One of the highlights of our visit to the Edinburgh Fringe last August was Hannah Davies’ one-woman show ‘Githa’ which told the story of the early 20th century playwright Githa Sowerby and the amazing success of her first play ‘Rutherford & Son’ in 1912. So I was delighted to see that Northern Broadsides are touring a new production of ‘Rutherford & Son’, directed by Jonathan Miller, edited (and relocated from the North East to Yorkshire) by Blake Morrison and starring Northern Broadsides Artistic Director Barrie Rutter as the patriarchal tyrant John Rutherford. We saw the play at Watford Palace Theatre on Saturday and it didn’t disappoint. It’s a grim tale of a ruthless industrialist who has built a successful family firm (a glassworks) and rules over both the firm and his family with a fierce uncompromising determination. The plight of the women in the family in particular – whom Rutherford barely deigns to talk to – is emphasised by the gloom of the barely lit set. But the Northern Broadsides production manages to find humour amongst the desperation. And ‘Rutherford & Son’ has a very clever and well-plotted twist. An excellent play by a pioneering but largely forgotten female playwright.
North York Moors
3 April 2013
Despite me telling everyone that the last week in March invariably heralds the first warmer weather of the year, our week on the North York Moors proved to be incredibly cold. We were lucky, however, in that we avoided the severe snow that beset many other parts of the country and, while we had some light coverings of snow during the week, our travel wasn’t impeded at all. We loved the North York Moors national park – stunning scenery in a relatively compact and self-contained area. We stayed in a little village called Houlsyke on the North edge of the moors, near to the North York Moors Visitor Centre at Danby. We did some great walks – over Ainthorpe Rigg into Little Fryup Dale, along the coastal path into Robin Hood’s Bay and up Roseberry Topping. We visited Whitby, Scarborough and Filey. It was an area I had never visited before and we will definitely return – but it felt more like Christmas than Easter!
Despite me telling everyone that the last week in March invariably heralds the first warmer weather of the year, our week on the North York Moors proved to be incredibly cold. We were lucky, however, in that we avoided the severe snow that beset many other parts of the country and, while we had some light coverings of snow during the week, our travel wasn’t impeded at all. We loved the North York Moors national park – stunning scenery in a relatively compact and self-contained area. We stayed in a little village called Houlsyke on the North edge of the moors, near to the North York Moors Visitor Centre at Danby. We did some great walks – over Ainthorpe Rigg into Little Fryup Dale, along the coastal path into Robin Hood’s Bay and up Roseberry Topping. We visited Whitby, Scarborough and Filey. It was an area I had never visited before and we will definitely return – but it felt more like Christmas than Easter!
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Milton Keynes Sinfonia concert
21 March 2013
The viola is the often the poor relation amongst orchestral instruments, the butt of many jokes, the unglamorous middle of the string section. So it was interesting, last Saturday, to take part in a concert that positively celebrated the musical possibilities of the viola. I was playing with Milton Keynes Sinfonia in a programme which began and ended with fine viola solos by the orchestra’s principal viola player, Julian Pentz, in Elgar’s ‘In The South’ and Vaughan Williams’ ‘Symphony No 2 (A London Symphony)’. The filling in this viola sandwich was William Walton’s ‘Viola Concerto’ – a wonderful but fiendishly difficult work, impressively performed by Emma Sheppard (who was, until last year, the principal viola for English National Ballet). It was a lovely programme and a very enjoyable concert, with some great playing throughout the orchestra and a host of exquisite solos by a variety of players – but this time the limelight belonged to the viola.
The viola is the often the poor relation amongst orchestral instruments, the butt of many jokes, the unglamorous middle of the string section. So it was interesting, last Saturday, to take part in a concert that positively celebrated the musical possibilities of the viola. I was playing with Milton Keynes Sinfonia in a programme which began and ended with fine viola solos by the orchestra’s principal viola player, Julian Pentz, in Elgar’s ‘In The South’ and Vaughan Williams’ ‘Symphony No 2 (A London Symphony)’. The filling in this viola sandwich was William Walton’s ‘Viola Concerto’ – a wonderful but fiendishly difficult work, impressively performed by Emma Sheppard (who was, until last year, the principal viola for English National Ballet). It was a lovely programme and a very enjoyable concert, with some great playing throughout the orchestra and a host of exquisite solos by a variety of players – but this time the limelight belonged to the viola.
Friday, March 15, 2013
'How Music Works' by David Byrne
15 March 2013
In 1985 a school friend lent me his copy of the Talking Heads LP ‘Little Creatures’ – the album that contains ‘Road to Nowhere’ and ‘And She Was’. I listened to the record a couple of times and quickly returned it, saying I thought there were a couple of good songs but I didn’t like the singer’s voice. Ah, the foolishness of youth! A year later I went to see David Byrne’s charmingly quirky film ‘True Stories’, bought the ‘True Stories’ Talking Heads album and was completely hooked. Since then, the music of David Byrne has become an essential part of the soundtrack of my life. I was blown away by his 1989 Latin album ‘Rei Momo’, and his 2001 masterpiece ‘Look into the Eyeball’ is one of my all-time favourite records – though only narrowly beating its 2004 successor ‘Grown Backwards’. So I had been very much looking forward to reading David Byrne’s new book, ‘How Music Works’ (which I have just finished reading as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Andrew Garman). ‘How Music Works’ is part memoir – reminiscing about the early years of Talking Heads, the recording of most of Byrne’s studio albums and the experience of particular live shows – and part Reith Lecture. He looks at how the buildings in which music is performed have influenced compositional style, the process of musical collaboration, the economic models of the music business and the earliest human origins of music. I was particularly interested in his description of the process of developing his disco song cycle about the life of Imelda Marcos, ‘Here Lies Love’ (a collaboration with Fatboy Slim, reviewed here in April 2010). He talks about music education, citing our mutual Brazilian friends AfroReggae, El Sistema in Venezuela and the work of Youth Music in the UK. He also provides a fascinating encyclopaedic history of recording technologies and their effect on the writing, performance and consumption of music. Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, David Byrne devotes a whole chapter to amateurs. He says:
“The act of making music, art, clothes, or even food, has a very different and possibly more beneficial effect on us than simply consuming those things. And yet, for a very long time, the attitude of the state toward teaching and funding the arts has been in direct opposition to fostering creativity among the general population. It can often seem that those in power don’t want us to enjoy making things for ourselves. They’d prefer to establish a cultural hierarchy that devalues our amateur efforts and encourages consumption rather than creation.”
He goes on to suggest that:
“by encouraging the creativity of amateurs, rather than telling them that they should passively accept the creativity of designated masters, we help build a social and cultural network that will have profound repercussions”.
‘How Music Works’ is a little rambling at times, undoubtedly idiosyncratic and very much in David Byrne’s unique voice, but it’s a brilliant book – highly recommended.
In 1985 a school friend lent me his copy of the Talking Heads LP ‘Little Creatures’ – the album that contains ‘Road to Nowhere’ and ‘And She Was’. I listened to the record a couple of times and quickly returned it, saying I thought there were a couple of good songs but I didn’t like the singer’s voice. Ah, the foolishness of youth! A year later I went to see David Byrne’s charmingly quirky film ‘True Stories’, bought the ‘True Stories’ Talking Heads album and was completely hooked. Since then, the music of David Byrne has become an essential part of the soundtrack of my life. I was blown away by his 1989 Latin album ‘Rei Momo’, and his 2001 masterpiece ‘Look into the Eyeball’ is one of my all-time favourite records – though only narrowly beating its 2004 successor ‘Grown Backwards’. So I had been very much looking forward to reading David Byrne’s new book, ‘How Music Works’ (which I have just finished reading as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Andrew Garman). ‘How Music Works’ is part memoir – reminiscing about the early years of Talking Heads, the recording of most of Byrne’s studio albums and the experience of particular live shows – and part Reith Lecture. He looks at how the buildings in which music is performed have influenced compositional style, the process of musical collaboration, the economic models of the music business and the earliest human origins of music. I was particularly interested in his description of the process of developing his disco song cycle about the life of Imelda Marcos, ‘Here Lies Love’ (a collaboration with Fatboy Slim, reviewed here in April 2010). He talks about music education, citing our mutual Brazilian friends AfroReggae, El Sistema in Venezuela and the work of Youth Music in the UK. He also provides a fascinating encyclopaedic history of recording technologies and their effect on the writing, performance and consumption of music. Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, David Byrne devotes a whole chapter to amateurs. He says:
“The act of making music, art, clothes, or even food, has a very different and possibly more beneficial effect on us than simply consuming those things. And yet, for a very long time, the attitude of the state toward teaching and funding the arts has been in direct opposition to fostering creativity among the general population. It can often seem that those in power don’t want us to enjoy making things for ourselves. They’d prefer to establish a cultural hierarchy that devalues our amateur efforts and encourages consumption rather than creation.”
He goes on to suggest that:
“by encouraging the creativity of amateurs, rather than telling them that they should passively accept the creativity of designated masters, we help build a social and cultural network that will have profound repercussions”.
‘How Music Works’ is a little rambling at times, undoubtedly idiosyncratic and very much in David Byrne’s unique voice, but it’s a brilliant book – highly recommended.
Friday, March 08, 2013
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert
8 March 2013
The Northampton Symphony Orchestra was back in the magnificent auditorium of the Derngate in Northampton last Saturday for an evening of ballet music, compered by Angela Rippon. We played an extensive range of ballet excerpts including popular favourites (Tchaikovsky’s suite from ‘Swan Lake’, the ‘Adagio of Spartacus and Phrygia’ from ‘Spartacus’ by Khachaturian and the ‘Clog Dance’ from ‘La fille mal gardée’ by Ferdinand Hérold) and the achingly beautiful ending of Prokofiev’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’. We finished the concert with the suite from ‘The Firebird’ by Stravinsky – a challenge for any orchestra but one which I think we rose to. Towards the end of the suite there is a moment, after the violence of the famous ‘Infernal Dance’ has subsided and the haunting bassoon melody of the ‘Berceuse’ has died away, when sparse string chords fade away to silence. Then, out of nothing, comes the horn solo that ushers in the finale. It’s a beautiful moment but I can now tell you from personal experience that it is incredibly nerve-wracking being the horn player waiting for what seems like an age to play that solo. It’s not a particularly difficult phrase (there were much more difficult solos earlier in the concert including those performed wonderfully by Kathy Roberts on oboe, Nick Bunker on trumpet and an amazingly beautiful harp cadenza) but, coming at the end of the most difficult piece at the end of a long concert was a bit like stepping up to take a penalty after playing extra time. I am relieved to say I didn’t blast the ball over the bar – it seemed to go okay and the concert ended on a high.
The Northampton Symphony Orchestra was back in the magnificent auditorium of the Derngate in Northampton last Saturday for an evening of ballet music, compered by Angela Rippon. We played an extensive range of ballet excerpts including popular favourites (Tchaikovsky’s suite from ‘Swan Lake’, the ‘Adagio of Spartacus and Phrygia’ from ‘Spartacus’ by Khachaturian and the ‘Clog Dance’ from ‘La fille mal gardée’ by Ferdinand Hérold) and the achingly beautiful ending of Prokofiev’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’. We finished the concert with the suite from ‘The Firebird’ by Stravinsky – a challenge for any orchestra but one which I think we rose to. Towards the end of the suite there is a moment, after the violence of the famous ‘Infernal Dance’ has subsided and the haunting bassoon melody of the ‘Berceuse’ has died away, when sparse string chords fade away to silence. Then, out of nothing, comes the horn solo that ushers in the finale. It’s a beautiful moment but I can now tell you from personal experience that it is incredibly nerve-wracking being the horn player waiting for what seems like an age to play that solo. It’s not a particularly difficult phrase (there were much more difficult solos earlier in the concert including those performed wonderfully by Kathy Roberts on oboe, Nick Bunker on trumpet and an amazingly beautiful harp cadenza) but, coming at the end of the most difficult piece at the end of a long concert was a bit like stepping up to take a penalty after playing extra time. I am relieved to say I didn’t blast the ball over the bar – it seemed to go okay and the concert ended on a high.
Friday, March 01, 2013
'The Beginners Goodbye' by Anne Tyler
1 March 2013
It's always a pleasure to get your hands on a new novel by Anne Tyler - one of my favourite authors. Her gentle, amusing and moving Baltimore tales of ordinary people flirting with live-changing events wear their cleverness lightly and manage to be both enjoyable and thought-provoking. I've just finished reading Anne Tyler's latest novel 'The Beginners Goodbye' (which I read as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Kirby Heybourne). 'The Beginners Goodbye' is familiar Anne Tyler territory - suburban Baltimore life, polite but strained family relationships and a quirky small business - but it's a very sad book dealing with grief at the loss of a spouse. As with Anne Tyler's previous novel 'Noah's Compass' (reviewed here in May 2010) I got the impression she was rewriting 'The Accidental Tourist'. There are some strong parallels between the two books with the male narrator left alone, moving back to his family home with eccentric sibling(s) and making his living from publishing a series of guidebooks. As with 'Noah's Compass', 'The Beginners Goodbye' feels like a more mature work than 'The Accidental Tourist' but this time I yearned for more light-relief. There is humour and the usual lightness of touch but I missed the comic set pieces of some of her earlier novels.
It's always a pleasure to get your hands on a new novel by Anne Tyler - one of my favourite authors. Her gentle, amusing and moving Baltimore tales of ordinary people flirting with live-changing events wear their cleverness lightly and manage to be both enjoyable and thought-provoking. I've just finished reading Anne Tyler's latest novel 'The Beginners Goodbye' (which I read as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Kirby Heybourne). 'The Beginners Goodbye' is familiar Anne Tyler territory - suburban Baltimore life, polite but strained family relationships and a quirky small business - but it's a very sad book dealing with grief at the loss of a spouse. As with Anne Tyler's previous novel 'Noah's Compass' (reviewed here in May 2010) I got the impression she was rewriting 'The Accidental Tourist'. There are some strong parallels between the two books with the male narrator left alone, moving back to his family home with eccentric sibling(s) and making his living from publishing a series of guidebooks. As with 'Noah's Compass', 'The Beginners Goodbye' feels like a more mature work than 'The Accidental Tourist' but this time I yearned for more light-relief. There is humour and the usual lightness of touch but I missed the comic set pieces of some of her earlier novels.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
'One for the Road' by Willy Russell
21 February 2013
The Royal Theatre, Northampton, reopened after refurbishment in 2006 with ‘Follies’ by Stephen Sondheim (reviewed here in November 2006) which was the first production by the Royal and Derngate’s new Artistic Director, Laurie Sansom. This week we were back at the Royal for Laurie Sansom’s final offering before he leaves to become Artistic Director of the National Theatre of Scotland. His Northampton swansong was the appropriately titled ‘One for the Road’ by Willy Russell. I’ve enjoyed Laurie Sansom’s work at Northampton. While avoiding the ambitious excesses of his predecessor, Rupert Goold (a hard act to follow), he has demonstrated a lightness of touch, a mastery of music and a great ability for comedy, across a very varied range of material. Laurie Sansom productions which stand out for me from the past seven years include ‘Follies’, a marvellous ‘Wizard of Oz’ (reviewed here in January 2009), 'The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie' (reviewed here in September 2008) and 'Mary Shelley's Frankenstein' adapted by Lisa Evans (reviewed here in February 2008) – all of which incorporated local amateur actors alongside a professional cast. I also fondly remember Sansom’s production of Alan Ayckbourn’s ‘Private Fears in Public Places’ – with the audience seated on the stage, amongst the action (reviewed here in July 2009) and the surreal televisual farce 'Soap' by Sarah Woods (reviewed here in April 2007) with its magnificent revolving stage.
The Royal Theatre, Northampton, reopened after refurbishment in 2006 with ‘Follies’ by Stephen Sondheim (reviewed here in November 2006) which was the first production by the Royal and Derngate’s new Artistic Director, Laurie Sansom. This week we were back at the Royal for Laurie Sansom’s final offering before he leaves to become Artistic Director of the National Theatre of Scotland. His Northampton swansong was the appropriately titled ‘One for the Road’ by Willy Russell. I’ve enjoyed Laurie Sansom’s work at Northampton. While avoiding the ambitious excesses of his predecessor, Rupert Goold (a hard act to follow), he has demonstrated a lightness of touch, a mastery of music and a great ability for comedy, across a very varied range of material. Laurie Sansom productions which stand out for me from the past seven years include ‘Follies’, a marvellous ‘Wizard of Oz’ (reviewed here in January 2009), 'The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie' (reviewed here in September 2008) and 'Mary Shelley's Frankenstein' adapted by Lisa Evans (reviewed here in February 2008) – all of which incorporated local amateur actors alongside a professional cast. I also fondly remember Sansom’s production of Alan Ayckbourn’s ‘Private Fears in Public Places’ – with the audience seated on the stage, amongst the action (reviewed here in July 2009) and the surreal televisual farce 'Soap' by Sarah Woods (reviewed here in April 2007) with its magnificent revolving stage.
‘One for the Road’ is a Willy Russell comedy originally written
in 1976 but significantly revised in 1985 (to set the action in the 1980s). A
disastrous dinner party in a new housing estate somewhere in the North of
England leads two couples to question what they are doing with their lives and
to wish for the freedom of the open road. ‘One for the Road’ feels like a
cottage pie (or ‘hachis au parmentier’) incorporating ingredients including
Mike Leigh’s ‘Abigail’s Party’ (with John Denver here standing in for Demis
Roussos), Tom Stoppard’s ‘The Real Thing’ (but with ‘Wogan’ rather than ‘Desert
Island Discs’) and 'Neighbourhood Watch' by Alan Ayckbourn (reviewed here in
March 2012) (with its common theme of suburban gnome vandalism). Willy Russell’s
play predates all of these so it is a little unfair to suggest it felt
derivative. It was a very funny show with a dark Ayckbournian sting in the tail
and a nice way to say farewell to Laurie Sansom.
Friday, February 15, 2013
'Canada' by Richard Ford
15 February 2013
"First, I'll tell you about the robbery our parents committed. Then about the murders, which happened later." The opening sentences of Richard Ford's 2012 novel, 'Canada', seemed immediately destined for classic status. It's an intriguing start to an interesting book (which I read as an unabridged audio book, read by Peter Marinker). The narrator of the novel is Dell Parsons - a 15-year old boy throughout the novel's main events, though the narrative voice is the adult Dell remembering these events. It's 1960 and Dell and his twin sister Berner are the children of an apparently 'normal' family in Great Falls, Montana. 'Canada' looks at the relatively small steps that can transform ordinary lives into the extraordinary. When Dell's father gets into financial difficulties he decides to rob a bank. But he's not really a bank robber and his ineptitude splits his family apart. Though once he has robbed a bank he is a bank robber isn't he? Dell is puzzled by the way in which people become defined (and redefined) by their actions. Despite its focus on dramatic, life-changing events, 'Canada' is a slow book which builds a detailed picture of the ordinary lives which are to be forever changed. And it has a strange structure: halfway through we are suddenly in a new setting with a completely new set of characters in which Dell is the only link to the first part of the novel. Soon, however, we realise that we are following a familiar pattern as Dell's new life is turned upside down. 'Canada' takes us "where many bad events originate, from just an inch away from the everyday".
"First, I'll tell you about the robbery our parents committed. Then about the murders, which happened later." The opening sentences of Richard Ford's 2012 novel, 'Canada', seemed immediately destined for classic status. It's an intriguing start to an interesting book (which I read as an unabridged audio book, read by Peter Marinker). The narrator of the novel is Dell Parsons - a 15-year old boy throughout the novel's main events, though the narrative voice is the adult Dell remembering these events. It's 1960 and Dell and his twin sister Berner are the children of an apparently 'normal' family in Great Falls, Montana. 'Canada' looks at the relatively small steps that can transform ordinary lives into the extraordinary. When Dell's father gets into financial difficulties he decides to rob a bank. But he's not really a bank robber and his ineptitude splits his family apart. Though once he has robbed a bank he is a bank robber isn't he? Dell is puzzled by the way in which people become defined (and redefined) by their actions. Despite its focus on dramatic, life-changing events, 'Canada' is a slow book which builds a detailed picture of the ordinary lives which are to be forever changed. And it has a strange structure: halfway through we are suddenly in a new setting with a completely new set of characters in which Dell is the only link to the first part of the novel. Soon, however, we realise that we are following a familiar pattern as Dell's new life is turned upside down. 'Canada' takes us "where many bad events originate, from just an inch away from the everyday".
Thursday, February 07, 2013
'Borgen' by Adam Price
7 February 2013
I am a big fan of political drama. I have fond memories of the BBC Radio 4 dramas ‘The House’ by Christopher Lee and ‘Number 10’ by Jonathan Myerson, and the TV adaptation of ‘A Very British Coup’ by Chris Mullin, as well as ‘Yes Minister’ and ‘The Thick of It’. But I can’t think of any better example of the genre than ‘Borgen’ – the Danish TV series by Adam Price. I’ve just finished watching the second series of ‘Borgen’ on BBC Four and I’m getting withdrawal symptoms already. Sidse Babett Knudsen is wonderful as as Prime Minister Birgitte Nyborg: you can see the angst in her face as she tries to balance doing the right thing with the need for political compromise. The reality of coalition politics is frustrating and fascinating. The character of spin doctor Kasper Juul (played by Pilou Asbæk) manages to be both despicable and sympathetic and his on/off relationship with journalist Katrine Fønsmark (Birgitte Hjort Sørensen) is a constant sub-plot. If you’re missing ‘Borgen’ too I would recommend Vicky Frost’s excellent episode-by-episode blog on the Guardian website, see: http://www.guardian.co.uk/tv-and-radio/series/borgen-episode-by-episode (but beware of spoilers if you are still watching series two).
I am a big fan of political drama. I have fond memories of the BBC Radio 4 dramas ‘The House’ by Christopher Lee and ‘Number 10’ by Jonathan Myerson, and the TV adaptation of ‘A Very British Coup’ by Chris Mullin, as well as ‘Yes Minister’ and ‘The Thick of It’. But I can’t think of any better example of the genre than ‘Borgen’ – the Danish TV series by Adam Price. I’ve just finished watching the second series of ‘Borgen’ on BBC Four and I’m getting withdrawal symptoms already. Sidse Babett Knudsen is wonderful as as Prime Minister Birgitte Nyborg: you can see the angst in her face as she tries to balance doing the right thing with the need for political compromise. The reality of coalition politics is frustrating and fascinating. The character of spin doctor Kasper Juul (played by Pilou Asbæk) manages to be both despicable and sympathetic and his on/off relationship with journalist Katrine Fønsmark (Birgitte Hjort Sørensen) is a constant sub-plot. If you’re missing ‘Borgen’ too I would recommend Vicky Frost’s excellent episode-by-episode blog on the Guardian website, see: http://www.guardian.co.uk/tv-and-radio/series/borgen-episode-by-episode (but beware of spoilers if you are still watching series two).
Friday, February 01, 2013
'Get Follicled' by Lea Pryer
1 February 2013
Before Christmas we were delighted by our local amateur pantomime, ‘Rapunzel’ at the TADS Theatre (reviewed here in December 2012). Last Saturday we returned to Toddington to see the adult version, ‘Get Follicled: the True Story of Rapunzel’, again written and directed by Lea Pryer. Using the same set, the same cast (minus one or two of the younger actors) and following roughly the same plot, this was a parallel universe ‘Rapunzel’. For those seeking an ‘adult pantomime’ I suspect this fulfilled all the expectations that phrase suggests. It was incredibly crude, with nothing so subtle as a double entendre. Much of the show was very funny with the comic talents of Janet Bray, Rachel Birks, Mike Collins and Rory White wonderfully demonstrated in their adlibs and interplay with the audience. But, for me, the funniest moments were those aspects shared with the family-friendly version – the puppets, the facial expressions, the corpsing. And, given that the audience for the performance of ‘Rapunzel’ we saw in December was overwhelming adults, I felt most of us might have been happier with a reprise of that more innocent tale.
Before Christmas we were delighted by our local amateur pantomime, ‘Rapunzel’ at the TADS Theatre (reviewed here in December 2012). Last Saturday we returned to Toddington to see the adult version, ‘Get Follicled: the True Story of Rapunzel’, again written and directed by Lea Pryer. Using the same set, the same cast (minus one or two of the younger actors) and following roughly the same plot, this was a parallel universe ‘Rapunzel’. For those seeking an ‘adult pantomime’ I suspect this fulfilled all the expectations that phrase suggests. It was incredibly crude, with nothing so subtle as a double entendre. Much of the show was very funny with the comic talents of Janet Bray, Rachel Birks, Mike Collins and Rory White wonderfully demonstrated in their adlibs and interplay with the audience. But, for me, the funniest moments were those aspects shared with the family-friendly version – the puppets, the facial expressions, the corpsing. And, given that the audience for the performance of ‘Rapunzel’ we saw in December was overwhelming adults, I felt most of us might have been happier with a reprise of that more innocent tale.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Milton Keynes Chorale and Danesborough Chorus concert
25 January 2013
Since the mid-1970s Milton Keynes has boasted two large choral societies – the Milton Keynes Choral which was founded in 1974 and the Danesborough Chorus which was formed the following year. Since 1977 the two choirs have collaborated on an annual joint concert, enabling them to tackle ambitious repertoire as a single, massive chorus. Last Sunday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre for this year’s joint performance – a programme of music by Mozart, culminating in the ‘Mass in C minor’. The massed ranks of more than 200 singers sounded great accompanied by the period instruments of the Meridian Sinfonia and the two choruses naturally lent themselves to the eight-part double choir format of Mozart’s Mass. Conductor Tom Appleton was enthusiastic and entertaining (and his witty, emotive programme notes were a treat!). It was a lovely concert and a great way to mark the recent retirement of David Roberts after 36 years as Chairman of the Danesborough Chorus.
Since the mid-1970s Milton Keynes has boasted two large choral societies – the Milton Keynes Choral which was founded in 1974 and the Danesborough Chorus which was formed the following year. Since 1977 the two choirs have collaborated on an annual joint concert, enabling them to tackle ambitious repertoire as a single, massive chorus. Last Sunday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre for this year’s joint performance – a programme of music by Mozart, culminating in the ‘Mass in C minor’. The massed ranks of more than 200 singers sounded great accompanied by the period instruments of the Meridian Sinfonia and the two choruses naturally lent themselves to the eight-part double choir format of Mozart’s Mass. Conductor Tom Appleton was enthusiastic and entertaining (and his witty, emotive programme notes were a treat!). It was a lovely concert and a great way to mark the recent retirement of David Roberts after 36 years as Chairman of the Danesborough Chorus.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
'Sweet Tooth' by Ian McEwan
17 January 2013
Last August, in Edinburgh, we saw Mark Lawson interviewing Ian McEwan about his new novel, ‘Sweet Tooth’ – a spy story set in the early 1970s at the height of the cold war. I've now got around to reading ‘Sweet Tooth’ (as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Juliet Stevenson). It tells the story of Serena Frome (rhymes with plume), a Cambridge graduate who joins MI5 and is deployed to act as a patron to a promising young writer, T H Haley, whom it is hoped will write anti-communist novels. Haley is not to know that the funding Serena brings comes from MI5 and deception and lies create a dangerous balance in their relationship. ‘Sweet Tooth’, however, is not really a spy novel – it is about creativity, literature and fiction. Who is writing the narrative of our lives – and where do they get their ideas from? It was an enjoyable read, with a fine cast of suspicious characters, and it keeps the reader guessing to the end about where the inevitable twist will come from.
Last August, in Edinburgh, we saw Mark Lawson interviewing Ian McEwan about his new novel, ‘Sweet Tooth’ – a spy story set in the early 1970s at the height of the cold war. I've now got around to reading ‘Sweet Tooth’ (as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Juliet Stevenson). It tells the story of Serena Frome (rhymes with plume), a Cambridge graduate who joins MI5 and is deployed to act as a patron to a promising young writer, T H Haley, whom it is hoped will write anti-communist novels. Haley is not to know that the funding Serena brings comes from MI5 and deception and lies create a dangerous balance in their relationship. ‘Sweet Tooth’, however, is not really a spy novel – it is about creativity, literature and fiction. Who is writing the narrative of our lives – and where do they get their ideas from? It was an enjoyable read, with a fine cast of suspicious characters, and it keeps the reader guessing to the end about where the inevitable twist will come from.
'Author, Author' by David Lodge
17 January 2013
I've never read anything by Henry James – I don’t think I've even seen a film or TV adaptation of any of his novels – so I wasn't sure how interesting I was going to find ‘Author, Author’, David Lodge’s book about Henry James. I needn't have worried: you’re in safe hands with David Lodge. ‘Author, Author’ wears its research lightly and contains much invented dialogue but it still felt more biography than novel to me. It doesn't attempt a complete biography, and I found it intriguing that Lodge chose not to write about the creation of the early novels that made Henry James famous, nor about the late, great novels for which he is now best remembered. Instead ‘Author, Author’ focusses on the 1880s and 1890s when James is living in London and attempting, unsuccessfully, to conquer the London stage as a playwright. I guess “famous author writes successful novel” wouldn't have made much of a story. David Lodge has created a compelling tale which paints a rounded picture of a complex, flawed but extremely sympathetic character. Much of the book is centred around James’s friendship with the Punch cartoonist George Du Maurier (father of the actor Gerald du Maurier and grandfather of the writer Daphne du Maurier). George du Maurier (who created the famous ‘curate’s egg’ cartoon) comes across as a lovely man and a very good friend to James. But when du Maurier tries his hand at writing a novel and instantly achieves the kind of worldwide success, acclamation and fame that James can only dream of (with his debut novel ‘Trilby’ – which gave us both the eponymous hat and the notion of the ‘svengali’) their friendship is seriously tested. ‘Author, Author’ has a strong supporting cast as Henry James crosses the paths of a wide range of literary and theatrical greats including H G Wells, George Bernard Shaw, Ellen Terry, Oscar Wilde, Edith Wharton and a five-year old Agatha Christie. ‘Author, Author’ may be guilty of not knowing whether it is itself a novel or a biography but it’s a fascinating and engaging portrait of a revered author.
I've never read anything by Henry James – I don’t think I've even seen a film or TV adaptation of any of his novels – so I wasn't sure how interesting I was going to find ‘Author, Author’, David Lodge’s book about Henry James. I needn't have worried: you’re in safe hands with David Lodge. ‘Author, Author’ wears its research lightly and contains much invented dialogue but it still felt more biography than novel to me. It doesn't attempt a complete biography, and I found it intriguing that Lodge chose not to write about the creation of the early novels that made Henry James famous, nor about the late, great novels for which he is now best remembered. Instead ‘Author, Author’ focusses on the 1880s and 1890s when James is living in London and attempting, unsuccessfully, to conquer the London stage as a playwright. I guess “famous author writes successful novel” wouldn't have made much of a story. David Lodge has created a compelling tale which paints a rounded picture of a complex, flawed but extremely sympathetic character. Much of the book is centred around James’s friendship with the Punch cartoonist George Du Maurier (father of the actor Gerald du Maurier and grandfather of the writer Daphne du Maurier). George du Maurier (who created the famous ‘curate’s egg’ cartoon) comes across as a lovely man and a very good friend to James. But when du Maurier tries his hand at writing a novel and instantly achieves the kind of worldwide success, acclamation and fame that James can only dream of (with his debut novel ‘Trilby’ – which gave us both the eponymous hat and the notion of the ‘svengali’) their friendship is seriously tested. ‘Author, Author’ has a strong supporting cast as Henry James crosses the paths of a wide range of literary and theatrical greats including H G Wells, George Bernard Shaw, Ellen Terry, Oscar Wilde, Edith Wharton and a five-year old Agatha Christie. ‘Author, Author’ may be guilty of not knowing whether it is itself a novel or a biography but it’s a fascinating and engaging portrait of a revered author.
Friday, January 11, 2013
'The Life and Times Of ...' by The Hot 8 Brass Band
11 January 2013
I've been listening to The Hot 8 Brass Band from New Orleans this week. Their new album, ‘The Life and Times Of …’, has a cheerful, funky swagger. This is the New Orleans marching jazz band tradition reinvented by the hip-hop generation. The music is wild, raucous and untamed whilst also slick, neat and tight. The cover of ‘Ghost Town’ by The Specials is a particular delight.
I've been listening to The Hot 8 Brass Band from New Orleans this week. Their new album, ‘The Life and Times Of …’, has a cheerful, funky swagger. This is the New Orleans marching jazz band tradition reinvented by the hip-hop generation. The music is wild, raucous and untamed whilst also slick, neat and tight. The cover of ‘Ghost Town’ by The Specials is a particular delight.
Friday, January 04, 2013
'The Value of Culture' by Melvyn Bragg
4 January 2013
I've been hooked on Melvyn Bragg’s marvellous 5-part BBC Radio 4 series, ‘The Value of Culture’, which has been broadcast every day this week. Like an extended edition of ‘In Our Time’, Melvyn Bragg has been questioning a range of experts to get to grips with what we mean by ‘culture’, the origins of the word and its usage, and why culture is important. He has taken us on a journey, from Matthew Arnold (writing in ‘Culture and Anarchy’ in 1869) who thought that culture is “the best which has been thought and said", to the anthropologist E. B. Tylor who wrote (in 1871) that culture is " that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society” to Raymond Williams (in ‘Moving from High Culture to Ordinary Culture’ in 1958) who said "Culture is ordinary: that is the first fact. Every human society has its own shape, its own purposes, its own meanings. Every human society expresses these, in institutions, and in arts and learning.” This tension between ‘high culture’, ‘culture’ as that which separates humans from other animals, ‘culture’ as creative expression and the notion of ‘mass culture’ is fascinating. It was refreshing to listen to a radio programme that genuinely made you think. If you missed ‘The Value of Culture’ all five episodes will be available for the next twelve months at http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01pmg02. Brilliant stuff: what a great way to start the new year.
I've been hooked on Melvyn Bragg’s marvellous 5-part BBC Radio 4 series, ‘The Value of Culture’, which has been broadcast every day this week. Like an extended edition of ‘In Our Time’, Melvyn Bragg has been questioning a range of experts to get to grips with what we mean by ‘culture’, the origins of the word and its usage, and why culture is important. He has taken us on a journey, from Matthew Arnold (writing in ‘Culture and Anarchy’ in 1869) who thought that culture is “the best which has been thought and said", to the anthropologist E. B. Tylor who wrote (in 1871) that culture is " that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society” to Raymond Williams (in ‘Moving from High Culture to Ordinary Culture’ in 1958) who said "Culture is ordinary: that is the first fact. Every human society has its own shape, its own purposes, its own meanings. Every human society expresses these, in institutions, and in arts and learning.” This tension between ‘high culture’, ‘culture’ as that which separates humans from other animals, ‘culture’ as creative expression and the notion of ‘mass culture’ is fascinating. It was refreshing to listen to a radio programme that genuinely made you think. If you missed ‘The Value of Culture’ all five episodes will be available for the next twelve months at http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01pmg02. Brilliant stuff: what a great way to start the new year.
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