Monday, June 25, 2007

Quick update

It's been a while since I've written anything here lately, for various reasons. But I thought I'd do a post, if only to list a load of links I've been saving, before they get REALLY out of date....

Here's the Guardian review of The Kingdom. And the Independent review of the Elgar events in Birmingham. And a slightly alarming rumour about them demolishing the Briton's Protection! (scroll down...)

You'll have seen the big row between Sony and Manchester Cathedral, which doesn't yet seem to have been resolved. The strange part about it is that I'd assumed, when the story hit the news, that the game in question must have just been released, but it actually came out in March!

I enjoyed watching the Cardiff Singer of the World, as, no doubt, many of you did too. I'm not sure I would have picked the same winner, although he was very good. I was pleased Elizabeth Watts (the English soprano) won the song prize, and I think I would have given her the main prize too. I'd hoped Maria Isabel Vera (the Chilean mezzo) would win, but I agree with the commentators that she wasn't as impressive in the final as she was in the heat. But my favourite of the whole competition was actually David DQ Lee (the Canadian/Korean countertenor). He won his round but wasn't selected for the final. Normally I hate countertenors - partly on principle (as if there aren't too few alto opportunities out there already, without men taking them!) and partly because I just don't like the sound of any I've heard before. But he was the only competitor that made me sit up and watch him properly, rather than just have the singing on in the background while I was actually concentrating on something else.

This past weekend I have watched an awful lot of Glastonbury on the BBC (official site here). There were lots of bands and singers I really like (and for those who don't know me, I should maybe clarify that I listen to all this sort of music much more than the stuff on Cardiff Singer of the World - although I listen to that too!). I think my favourite performances were from the Arctic Monkeys and the Fratellis. Neither performance was perfect - lots of the Arctic Monkeys' singing was incredibly out of tune, in particular - but both bands made up for their flaws in other ways. I also loved The Who and Shirley Bassey - always great to hear historic songs performed live by the original artists. Hard to believe that Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey are both in their sixties - and Shirley Bassey is seventy. And they all still sound fabulous! Good news for those who worry about losing their voices as they get older.

Other acts I liked: Amy Whitehouse, The Coral, Dirty Pretty Things, the Kaiser Chiefs, the Killers, the Kooks, Lily Allen, and Maximo Park. I was a bit disappointed with Bjork and Rufus Wainwright, though. I do usually like Bjork (I did even before we were in a concert with her - remember that? In Verbier many years ago?), but on this occasion I was unmoved (although the commentators kept saying how great her show was). Maybe Dr Liz can tell us whether or not Bjork was better live - she was there (rather her than me! I like watching from the comfort of my armchair, but the last standing gig I went to, a couple of years ago - Red Hot Chili Peppers, since you ask - was enough to convince me never to go to one again, let alone one with mud!). And Rufus Wainwright was fine for most of the time, but he and his sister absolutely RUINED Hallelujah. He kept playing the wrong chords, and the singing (from both of them) was no better. It sounded as if they hadn't actually rehearsed it. (Rufus Wainwright is one of those people - like Jeff Buckley - who seems to be regarded as a bit of a god by his fans... they seem unable to admit that he could possibly not be perfect.)

Anyway, I need to go and do yet more job hunting. But first... Some of you have already noticed that my unofficial choir website has gone (and there is a note in its place to explain why). I may have to stop this blog too, but I'm not sure yet. If I do keep it going, it will probably be slightly different. I don't want to go into any more detail here, but I appreciate the supportive emails, and I will reply to them all ASAP.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

"We don't do diction here... we do words."

A quick post, because I don't have very much to say, plus I'm in the middle of tidying my spare room in an effort to find my CRB certificate. But I thought I'd better write something so that no more people will obligated to send me links to reviews! (I'm very grateful, and please don't stop doing it, because I do miss stuff occasionally - but lots of people have emailed to point these out to me, and I feel a bit guilty because I'd already seen them but just not summoned the energy to post!)

The M.E.N. gives us 4 stars but the only thing they say about the choir is that we were sometimes overpowered by the orchestra. (Graham E says that this was indeed the case.) I suppose we should be grateful that we were mentioned at all - we're not always!

The Times gives 5 stars and says the Hallé sounded like the best orchestra in the world. Sadly this review is of Saturday's concert rather than Sunday's, but still!

Talking of Graham E, he very kindly sent me some proper photos of Mark getting his present - they're on my choir photo page, as are a few pics from the Hilton party on Sunday afternoon. This is the view through the floor, for those who didn't dare stand over the window!



The concert went well, anyway. The bit I've had on the brain ever since is my favourite bit, which is the men's "this is he which sat for alms" on page 130. That just sounded fabulous every single time they did it! Although I also loved the 2nd bass bottom C near the end (this was the point about which we got the only Jamieism of the day (apart from the one in the title): "What I think you need to do is be a little more ambitious pitchwise..." - I don't think he meant the 2nd basses though, they sounded great!)

Oh, and I did get a chance to speak to the lovely Andrew. He told me that he's only back for this weekend - they also asked him to do a recording of L'Après-midi d'un faune, but he wasn't free for that. But he will be playing with them again in the Prom that they're doing. So you can watch him on TV :-)

And finally - if you feel like a water fight this Saturday, Platt Fields is the place to be!

Saturday, June 02, 2007

"To all the 59-year-olds... it's all right!"

Well, today was Mark Elder's 60th birthday - and Elgar's 150th. (Annoyingly the BBC news story about the Elgar anniversary doesn't mention us!) There was a banner up inside the Bridgewater Hall auditorium saying "Happy birthday Maestro!" for both of them. Hopefully you can just about make it out on the second of these pictures:





(There are bigger versions on my choir pictures page but the ones in the hall aren't any clearer, I'm afraid! I know lots of other people were taking pictures with proper cameras - if anyone would like to send me any, I'll put them online.)

For those who weren't there: the first photo is of Mark getting his birthday present from the choir, which he said was "Brilliant!" (it was a hand-carved tabletop music stand - he said he could take it all over the world, subject of course to airline luggage restrictions... this, needless to say, prompted a wry chuckle!) He also told us that not only is it a gloriously sunny day (honestly, it was so hot in Manchester today I thought I might faint) but that "The four soloists advertised in the programme ARE ALL HERE!" This is very rare for Mark, he seems to have a curse on soloists, as I'm sure I've mentioned before - invariably one or more of them is ill and has to be replaced. (The second picture is of Mark speaking to the audience - this was an open rehearsal, and an impressive number of people sat through the whole thing. And the third is of Mark presenting 30- and 40-year choir service awards to lots of people.)

A bonus birthday present, which I'm ashamed to admit I didn't notice immediately, was that we have a guest principal flautist - Andrew is back! And I didn't even see him till he waved to me! I didn't get a chance to speak to him - hopefully tomorrow - so I don't know how long he's here. Presumably just for the weekend. But I was amazed that none of the people around me seemed to remember him at all. I mean, he's an old friend of mine (I know him from Chet's) so I'd remember him more, but still! I couldn't actually remember when it was that he left the Hallé for the RPO, but this list of orchestral principal flautists tells me he was with us from 1999 to 2004. (Yes, I know the page says 'flutists' but that word always looks wrong to me, even though I know it's the American version!)

The rehearsal wasn't too bad, I suppose - we almost got all the way through (we were 5 pages from the end when the orchestral manager came on to stop the rehearsal). I have to say I wasn't too inspired by the soloists - the bass was a bit slapdash with his rhythm, the tenor swooped, the soprano pronounced lots of words very strangely (e.g. 'shill' instead of 'shall')... and the alto was fine, but annoyed me by being a mezzo when the part is labelled 'contralto'! (It doesn't take much to annoy me at the moment!) As for the choir, those alto bits are still wrong (although there are slightly fewer people singing the F-when-it's-supposed-to-be-G), and the other sections have their own stumbling blocks. There are too many people who can't sing quietly, and FAR too many people who think that singing quieter automatically means slower (this is a very common choral problem but it drives me UP THE WALL). There are also a lot of people who seem to think that in parts where we've been asked - for very well-explained reasons - to be absolutely still, that it doesn't apply to them, and it won't make any difference if they choose that moment to start flicking through their score. ARGH.

As ever when we do a piece with the orchestra for the first time, I noticed a couple of interesting bits. For example, there are some chords on page 81 that have a square bracket under them for no apparent reason - does anyone know why? I must investigate. And there was a fabulous twiddly bit on the bottom of page 138 - I think it was a horn, but I only became aware of it as it ended. Must listen out tomorrow.

I felt a bit fount-of-all-knowledgey today, actually. At various points during the morning, I was asked: is there a breath on page 28? (answer: there was once, but it was removed); what's a good place to take parents for lunch tomorrow? (answer: there are loads of places, but I suggested Felicini); who had a number one hit with Frankie in 1985? (answer: Sister Sledge); what do I do if I didn't put my name down for the party at Cloud 23? (answer: officially, nothing, because the numbers have already been finalised with the hotel; unofficially... well, I told the person who asked!); and, who writes the Upbeat choir newsletter? (answer: this was the only question I didn't know the answer to, but I later found out that it's actually Tom Parnell - who tells me that the use of the word 'Poulank' was deliberate, and he'd hoped people would understand if they'd read the newsletter!) (I haven't read it myself in quite a while, I must say - ever since that Christmas issue that I mentioned at the time - but maybe I should.)

Unfortunately I seem unable to convince any non-choir people of my usefulness - my job hunting is not going at all well, and the other day I was turned away from a temp agency by the RECEPTIONIST, who told me that because I have no actual office or admin experience (because of course I've never had to do anything administrative in my life, have I?!) there was no point me even trying to get a temp job doing anything administrative. How encouraging. (She didn't even get to the part of my CV where I listed some of the things I can do - apparently my employment history was the only thing that counted.) I do have a few other ideas to try, but I hope one of them works soon, as money is becoming a real issue.

Hope some of you made it to a Whit Friday event. Sadly I didn't - the friends I'd been due to go with cancelled at the last minute, and I didn't want to go on my own. So I stayed home and watched David Beckham. But lots of people seem to be coming here looking for results, so for them: Saddleworth results are here and Tameside results are here.

Oh, and I seem to have made quite a few people very excited indeed by my mention of Alan Rickman - lots of people have arrived here from the Alan Rickman Download Haven, and it sounds as if large numbers of Rickman fans will come to see the Hallé just because of him. So, an excellent marketing decision there :-)

Friday, June 01, 2007

It's Whit Friday today!

So I'm going to start by ignoring choirs and talking about brass bands :-)

EDIT: To all the people coming here looking for Whit Friday 2007 results, Saddleworth results are here and Tameside results are here.

I'm always quite surprised that many musical people who live in Greater Manchester have never heard of the Whit Friday band contests, so today I feel the need to tell people about them. Then, if you're intrigued, you can go and watch tonight! (This is a slightly updated version of an article I wrote for a Mensa music magazine many years ago, but as far I know the details are all still true. (I apologise for the number of exclamation marks. Not sure what I was thinking...)

(I do have a few comments from last night's piano rehearsal of The Kingdom, but I'll get to them at the end of this post.)

The whole Whit Friday thing will make a lot more sense if I explain about brass bands first. Brass bands are commonly perceived as being a typically Northern phenomenon, but, although I was born and raised in Manchester, I knew practically nothing about them until I started work in Rochdale. The whole system is so unique that I find it fascinating.

There are more rules concerning brass bands than those covering all other areas of music put together. The reason for this is that the brass band world is primarily geared towards competition rather than entertainment (many bands do no concerts at all, in fact). The contests, however (invariably taking place on a Sunday, starting at a ridiculously early hour like 8 a.m. and continuing until the bar closes at midnight or so) are very bitter, hard-fought affairs, with the results being discussed for weeks afterwards.

For the purposes of contests, bands are divided into five sections (Championship, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th). There is a fixed number of bands in each section, but I’m not sure what it is (something like 30 in the Championship or “top section” and rather more in the others). At each contest, bands score points according to their placing (so many for a win, 2nd place, etc.) and at the end of the year there are promotions and relegations, just like in football. In addition to the five sections, there is also a Youth Section, which is just as competitive - the only limit is that players must be under 19. (Young players can, of course, play for “section bands” too.)

The actual contests are amazing. I thought someone was pulling my leg when I was told what happens, but I’ve seen it for myself and can assure you that this is all perfectly true! The actual admin stuff for the contest starts several weeks earlier, when the band’s secretary checks that each player’s registration card is in order. These cards have (amongst other things) the player’s photograph and signature, and they are amended at Head Office (wherever that is) if a player is transferred between bands. No-one can be registered with more than one band. At the same time, the secretary will get each player to sign the contest registration form, and this will be sent off so that the band is officially entered. The band will have been practising the test piece for weeks - in each section, there is only one test piece, so if there are 20 entries (common) then the audience will hear the same piece 20 times!

The contest day begins very early for youth and lower section bands (the top section usually starts at a much more reasonable hour). The first thing that happens is the draw, which is often at 8 a.m., so a band may have had to set off at 6 a.m. if they have any distance to travel. At the draw, each band’s manager has to be present while a draw is made for the order of play. When this has been done, the band knows whether it has time to rehearse or whether it has to proceed to registration. The band drawn first also has to play the National Anthem (or “The Queen”, as they call it), so they will find a few minutes to practise it - they don’t get judged on it, in theory, but most conductors are of the opinion that it’s not a good idea to play it badly!

Even when the draw is known, there is not a fixed time at which the band knows it will be playing - they have to guess what time to tell the players to meet. Eventually, though, it will be their turn to “proceed to registration”. This takes place in a backstage room. The contest controllers sit at a desk. One has all the registration cards (which were handed in at the draw) and the other has the contest registration sheet. The players file past, and each one is compared with his/her photo on the card, and then signs the registration sheet (right next to where they signed it the first time). After this signature has been compared with the first signature, and both have been compared with the one on the card, the player is allowed to play - or not, if there are any discrepancies!

Now you may be thinking “this doesn’t sound much like any music I’ve ever taken part in!” - but bear with me! It gets even stranger! When the band, having passed through registration, finally get on stage, they will be announced simply as “Band number 5” (or whatever) and there will be two notice boards on the stage, saying something like “Draw number 5” and “Programme number 9”. Why? Because the adjudicator is not allowed to know which band is which! Before the contest began, he will have been taken to his “box” (and it usually is just that - a box (with sides but no roof) constructed right in the middle of the hall) by a steward who will have ensured that no-one speaks to him (they might tell him the results of the draw!). The adjudicator stays in this box all day - I believe there is a bucket in there in case he needs to relieve himself.

The audience, however, know which band is which, because they’ve all bought a programme, in which the bands are listed in alphabetical order, and they’ve all written down the draw, which is posted outside the contest hall as soon as it’s known. In addition, the audience will quite happily sit through 20 or 30 performances of the same piece - some even take a score with them to follow! Most of these test pieces are especially written for this purpose and are fiendishly difficult (more so in higher sections!)

After all the bands have played, there will be a long, tense wait until the adjudicator blows his whistle for the last time. He will already have used it to let each band know he’s ready for them to start - now he uses it to say he’s ready to be let out of his box. He goes on stage and delivers some general comments, but nothing specific. Then there are lots more speeches in which everyone thanks everyone else. Eventually the contest controller reads out the results - usually only the top 3 or 4 places, and always in reverse order. Often the bands are only separated by one point - I’m not sure how the adjudicators fiddle it to be so close. Finally, everyone goes to the bar to celebrate or drown their sorrows.

A variation on this theme is “entertainment contests”. These mainly involve youth bands - there are very few for section bands. In an entertainment contest, there is no test piece - bands can play whatever they like, and they have a rigidly enforced time limit (penalty points are deducted for each minute they are outside the allotted range). The music is supposed to be “entertaining”, and most of it is - but there are still many conductors who feel that a brass band programme is incomplete if it doesn’t include a march, a hymn tune and a solo feature (usually for the top cornet or euphonium, and often a theme followed by lots of twiddly variations - yawn!). There will be at least one very silly item (e.g. Nellie the Elephant done as a tuba feature, with the players wearing tutus and elephant ears - I kid you not!) and probably something by Andrew Lloyd Webber (The Old Gumbie Cat is a particular favourite).

Entertainment contests have two adjudicators - one for the music and one for the entertainment. At the end the marks from both sections are added together (usually the music is given marks out of 200 and the entertainment out of 100, or a similar ratio). The music adjudicator sits in a box and operates just as he would at a traditional contest. The entertainment adjudicator watches, however. But each band’s compère has strict instructions not to mention the name of the band, or indeed to say anything that could give a clue to which band is playing.

The instrumentation, by the way, is as follows. A standard brass band has only 25 players plus drummers (although there may be more in concerts, particularly for youth bands). These will be: 1 soprano cornet, 9 cornets, 1 flugel horn, 3 tenor horns, 2 baritones, 2 euphoniums, 3 trombones, 4 tubas. There are no trumpets or French horns in a brass band, surprisingly.

Anyway, I’ll finish by telling you about Whit Friday. It’s the Friday after Whit Sunday each year (this year that means it’s today). On this day each year, bands from all over the country (and elsewhere too) converge on the Saddleworth area of Oldham, just to the east of Manchester. More than 100 bands take part, and each of the 20 or so villages involved basically stops work for the day (except the pubs!). Each village runs its own contest, and the prize money is not to be sniffed at! The contest starts at about 4.30 p.m. and runs till 10 or 11 p.m. The bands play on a “first come, first served” basis - sections are irrelevant at this stage. They arrive on coaches, and as each coach arrives, the band’s “runner” (usually the band manager) leaps off while the coach is still moving and races to the registration point. The order of play is determined solely by the order of registration, regardless of where the coach is in the queue - this can make the traffic policeman’s job interesting! It is to the band’s advantage to play as soon as possible, because the sooner they play, the sooner they can leave to go somewhere else and enter another contest. Anyway, depending on how busy the contest is, the players may well have a 30-40 minute wait before they play, which they will spend in the pub.

When it’s their turn to play, the band will get ready to march. Usually trombones are at the front (they need more room) and cornets at the back, with the bass drummer and one or two side drummers in the middle. Some bands also have a mace-bearer at the front. At a signal from the steward, the conductor (or band manager) will tell the band to “take the street”. At this point they line up in perfect order. In theory no-one speaks or moves, because from this moment on they are being judged on their “deportment” - uniform, discipline, straight lines etc. The youth bands are much better at this than the section bands, in my experience - the top bands don’t take it too seriously, because they know that the real money for them is in the music prizes.

Eventually the steward tells the band to march. The mace-bearer, if present, will do a complicated set of actions at this point. Then the bass drum does a two-bar rhythm, after which he is joined by the side drummers for two bars, and the band raise their instruments for the next two bars. Then they start to play, and after a fixed length of time (the first phrase, usually), they all start to march - left foot first. They march along the street, following a child with a sign with the name of the band chalked on it. He leads them to the bandstand or contest field or wherever. As soon as they are reasonably near to it (but still out of earshot) they are given a signal, at which the bass drummer will do a “double tap”, and the band stops playing at the end of the phrase in which this occurs. (If they finish the piece before this signal, they start again at the beginning.) They continue to march until the side drummers do a two-beat roll to stop them. When they are told to leave the street, they are no longer being judged on deportment - they walk to the bandstand and play their contest march (this will be much more difficult than the street march). The adjudicator will be told nothing about them apart from which section they are to be judged under, and he will be somewhere from where he can hear them but not see them (often in an upstairs room of a nearby pub, with the window open but the curtains shut).

After the band has played its contest march, the players race back to the coach and set off for the next village. Ten contests during the course of the night is a reasonable average - many do more, many do less. The results of the contests are available the same night if you wait around till the end, or online or in the local newspaper over the next couple of days.

If you have never experienced Whit Friday, I feel that your life will be incomplete until you have - so tonight is your big chance! There are only two good ways to “do” Whit Friday - either arrange to be on a coach with a band, or pick one spot and stay there all evening. Following a coach in a car doesn’t work very well, because the parking is horrendous and the roads frequently close while a band marches down them. But, assuming you don’t know any bands who’ll let you join them, a good first visit is to go to Uppermill and sit in front of one of the pubs on the High Street. Last year 57 bands went through Uppermill between 5 and 10 p.m., including most of the top section bands. This page gives you an idea of the scale of the thing (and it doesn’t include all the contests). (If you want somewhere a bit quieter than Uppermill, try Friezland - the top section bands don't go there, so it's a bit more laid back, and there are slightly fewer drunken people due to there not being an actual pub there.)

Anyway - I should probably talk about choir, shouldn't I? As previously mentioned, last night was the piano rehearsal for The Kingdom (i.e. with Mark Elder but not the orchestra - we see them on Saturday). It went reasonably well - needless to say there was lots of dragging due to people not watching, and a few bits where the basses seemed to have no clue what notes to sing, but apart from that it was OK, I thought. And we did get through the whole thing and only finished 5 minutes late. Not bad. (Did you know, by the way, that CBSO & C are having a bit of an insane weekend? They're doing Gerontius tonight, The Apostles tomorrow night and The Kingdom on Sunday afternoon! I dread to think when they started rehearsing... or how long it will take them to recover! Nice thing in the M.E.N. about our weekend though.)

Mark, as usual, inspired everyone, including those who weren't entirely convinced about how good the piece is. (Am I the only one that hadn't previously realised that it tells the story of what the apostles got up to after the Ascension? It all makes so much more sense now!) There weren't many classic Markisms though - maybe he's saving them for his birthday. (He did start talking about a recent disturbing Australian film at one point - I thought he said "Jitterbug" but there hasn't been a film called that for many years. EDIT: Apparently it was Jindabyne. THanks, Libby!) I think the best one was when he was telling us about the priest who comes to all the Hallé concerts and sends critiques afterwards: "He has a parish right over the other side of the country. In Yorkshire!" ... This seemed funnier at the time than it does now :p

Oh, and finally - you know I told you about the things the orchestra are doing for the Festival? Well, now they've got Alan Rickman with them for one of them!