Jonathan Dodd‘s latest column. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
I can’t quite explain why, but sometimes things pass me by, or maybe I don’t pay attention (ask all my teachers about that one…). I honestly had not registered the existence of a whole home-grown symphony orchestra here on the Wight.
Jo and I went to a wonderful concert given by a few musicians at St Thomas’s Church in Ryde a couple of weeks ago, full of strange and exciting music, much of it written by students and performed for the first time. One of the players, who I know, thrust a flyer into my hand and told me to get tickets for a concert by the Isle of Wight Symphony Orchestra.
The worst possible times
Now I don’t know about you, but people telling me about events is a bit like telephone calls. I know when I’m supposed to phone someone. I don’t forget that I have to phone them, but what happens is that I always remember at the worst possible times, like 2:00am in the morning or whilst driving on the M275 dodging Audis. Audis are the new BMWs. I try to avoid them. I don’t mean all Audi drivers, of course. Especially not you!
So anyway, when people tell me about something, I do remember it, but nothing gets done. If they give me a flyer then I’ll find it in my bag or my wallet or on my desk and sort it out. I apologise to all those people who I have failed to telephone all this time. Send me a card asking me to pick up the phone and I’ll do it. Or, alternatively, you could phone me…
There were at least sixty of them, all squashed together
I found the flyer two days later, made a phone call and duly bought two tickets. So we arrived at the Medina Theatre (another thing I knew little about) last Saturday, not knowing what to expect. We walked in and found our seats, and were immediately amazed by the size of the orchestra. There were at least sixty of them, all squashed together in the pointed end of the fan-shaped theatre. The seats were raked quite steeply, so we were able to see all of them. And it was hot.
Apparently they had been worried that people might not turn up, because of the heat. There were a few empty seats, but it was very nearly full. By the time the conductor, Jonathan Butcher, strolled onto the podium there was a real buzz of expectation.
A tapestry of sound
The programme explained that each piece of music was originally dance music, and that was the theme. Mr Butcher gave a short introduction to each piece before it began, giving some background information and telling a story about it, which worked really well. Then the orchestra played. As I said, I didn’t know what to expect, but I was blown away, because they were excellent.
It was a terrific evening of live music, and to those who don’t usually go to concerts, I have to say there’s a whole world of difference between listening on a CD and actually sitting there watching and listening to so many musicians, each playing their particular part, with the whole thing weaving itself into a tapestry of sound, and all controlled and fine-tuned by the conductor. It was very exciting, and a privilege to be there watching it.
I would definitely prefer a piccolo or oboe
Nobody gets paid. In fact, the musicians pay to be part of the orchestra, and they depend on sponsorship and financial help.
There is something inspiring and uplifting about so many people pouring so much of themselves into such an undertaking, with all the expense and time spent in practising and rehearsing, and all the other work involved, not least in getting sixty musicians in one place at the right time, with their instruments and music and stools and stands and other essential bits and pieces.
If I played an instrument to that level I would definitely prefer it to be a piccolo or oboe, because there were four double basses, two harps and various large percussion instruments there, which must be a nightmare to cart around from place to place. Oddly, I had never really thought about all this before.
The average age of the audience
I got to talking with a couple of the musicians, who I knew. Some of them worry about the average age of the audience, which I admit was mostly not in the first flush of youth. I thought about this, and decided it was to a certain extent a natural phenomenon.
If you’re going to be a musician you’re going to love music from the start and learn an instrument. I imagine that there’s a seam of these amazing people within each generation. For musically untalented people such as me, we hear the music that’s out there when we’re growing up, which is mostly pop, made by singers or bands that lose popularity or break up after a while. It’s in the nature of pop music to be transient.
Music that has hardly ever been mainstream
Very few people can still hear the music they loved five or ten years later, on the radio or TV. It has usually been supplanted by other bands and singers and new styles. As we grow older and our lives change, we tend to listen to less music or change our sources.
Only some music from our youth survives, and we find ourselves hearing other types of music. Sometimes this includes classical music or jazz or folk or some other kind of music that has hardly ever been mainstream.
I think there can be a sort of progression in our musical tastes which means we gravitate more towards classical music as we get older.
Some music becomes more familiar over time, some of it needs a particular kind of listening, until you ‘get’ it, if you ever do, like jazz.
I think it’s wonderful that all of this exists, sometimes on our doorsteps, sometimes without us even noticing.
Perhaps it’s not too late to find a teacher, preferably of the piccolo. I’ll probably remember to do this while I’m driving home one day, dodging Audis.
If you have been, thank you for reading this.
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