Brief Encounter

Last night in Milan was a long concert, we finished at 11.50 pm and got back to the hotel at half past midnight. Because we were travelling on a train in the morning, there wasn’t room in the carriages for all of our luggage. This meant that we had to put our cases down in the lobby at some point before 5am when poor old Mark from the office, who is with us on this trip, had to supervise their departure in case a case made a break for freedom. He looks a little tired this morning. We left at about 10am to go to the fantastic Milan station, which is a cavernous space of white stone. This being Italy, you could actually get a decent coffee for 1 Euro, simply by asking for coffee and not the great long paragraph with which you have to order one in Britain. Suitably charged up I sat down in my allotted seat with my usual partners in crime and relaxed for three hours.

Actually thats not quite true. I hid.

To give you the background, whenever we have a break in a rehearsal in the Barbican, lots of people from administration and the Discovery department descend on players and get them to sign up for various workshops, coaching, hospital visits etc. We all have mobile phones of course, but being a musician, they are off most of the time. In fact some orchestras have a system of fines if you let your phone ring in rehearsal. We don’t have that, as Valery has three phones, he’d be bankrupt in a week. Anyway, as they have trouble getting in touch with us, they like to strike at the heart of the orchestra like birds picking off a shoal of fish. I shall have to choose my words carefully as I am told that people in the LSO office read this blog. They are all of course lovely people.

Now train journeys are a strange thing on an LSO trip. As soon as the doors shut on the train and we are sealed in for 3 hours, there is one member of the administration who picks off orchestral players more efficiently than a shark in a fish tank. Sue. As soon as the train slowly moves off she is up from her seat, ring file in one hand and her weapon of choice, a blackberry in the other, circling her first victim. Today I already know that I’m on her hit list, she said she wanted to speak to me for four and a half minutes. You see how deadly accurate she is?

She first had to speak to Mathew the vice chairman and I wandered off down the carriage in search of coffee hoping she might forget, as I really wanted to catch up on some sleep. When I returned, she was still speaking to him and writing notes, and the all of a sudden she leapt up again to move on down her list. I slumped in my seat but this time she walked on by. For about an hour, I read my book and chatted to friends, and then suddenly she appeared through the automatic doors. I thought quickly, put my Ipod on and pretended to be asleep. As she walked past, she tutted and carried on. I had escaped on this train. Shortly afterwards we arrived in Rimini station and I disappeared into the crowd, just like Brief Encounter, but without the romance.

I’m sure after reading this though, she’ll make sure she catches me at the airport in the morning. In fact I know she will as she is one of the main reasons tours like this run so smoothly.

So as I said, today we arrived in Rimini for the last concert of this Italian tour. Its a lovely seaside resort and my hotel looks out to sea-and its sunny! I head out for lunch before getting down to the beach for a quick swim to freshen up. It is so windy today that the sea is full of kite surfers, which actually makes it too dangerous to swim much. Its a bit like going for a jog on the M25 if you’ve seen how fast they go. Fairly soon after this, we go to the concert hall which is a huge venue which we have to work hard to fill with sound. Valery is wearing a baseball cap with “Conductor at rest” written on it ! The irony is that he never seems to rest, he works so hard.

As I write this, the rest of the orchestra is playing Prokofiev 4 which I’m not in, but I have to go on in a few minutes to play the 7^th and also the 2^nd violin concerto so I had better finish. I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings and maybe we will all see you at a concert soon.

And of course a big thank you to everyone who works behind the scenes to make logistical nightmares like tours happen. Yes, especially you Sue!

On the Buses

I am having to type this very quietly as we are on a bus, again, traveling from Turin back to Milan. All of the concerts on this Italian tour start at 9pm. Well actually they start around 9.15 as most of the audiences wander in gradually from the foyer roughly around the start time, it seems to be more of a suggestion than a deadline. Of course, most of our concerts in London begin at 7.30 and end between 9.30 and 10pm, whereas on this tour, we have been lucky to get off stage before 11.30. Last night, Vadim Repin did two encores and then we played a bit of Romeo and Juliet at the end of the second half as well, making a very late finish. Most people will then have a drink or something to eat after the show, I tried both quite successfully and managed to get to bed around 2am. Unfortunately, these late finishes don’t always mean a late start the next morning and so the bus is fairly quiet apart from the quiet murmur of chatter from some of the younger, more energetic players near the front, the faint hiss of headphones, pages being turned in a novel and a crossword still being worked out on last weekends yellowing paper which now crackles with age like a log fire. The views from the window are quite beautiful, it is a clear blue sky and in the distance, burnt red roofs shine out like airport landing lights against the mountains, many of which are covered with snow. But today, we are all tired, and the views will have to wait for another time.

When we spoke last, Sir Colin was conducting, yesterday, Valery Gergiev arrived to continue the Prokofiev cycle we are taking around the world. In some ways I would love to have been a member of the audience over the last two days to hear the difference in sound these two great men get from the same orchestra. The volume change between RVW and Prokofiev is of course huge, with many extra players flying out for the next set of concerts. From the audience I’m sure it looks like Colin smiles and coaxes sound from the orchestra whereas Valery crouches and whips sound out of the depths. But from where I sit, when they ask us for something and get it immediately in a show, they both have the same smile in their eyes, they are having fun, we are too and the performance takes off.

Last night we played Prokofiev 7, one of my favourites. We have played it probably more than any of the others with Valery and yet we have never given the same performance twice. Last night he played it slightly quicker than in the past, you could sense the excitement in the hall as the last movement drove to its conclusion. Valery knows how to create an exciting performance more than most.

We played an encore, the Death of Tybalt from Romeo and Juliet. Such was the excitement in the audience, that when we reached the famous 15 repeated death chords, at least half the audience started cheering and clapping after the first one! We paused briefly and then played the other 14 by which time Tybalt was well and truly on the other side. Normally, Valery looks pretty serious through this climactic moment of the ballet, but even he had a grin on his face for the rest of the piece!

So on reflection, when I said I would have liked to have sat in the audience, sorry, I’ve changed my mind. I have the best seat in the house, you’ll have to drag me out of it because it is a very exciting ride at the moment, and I don’t want to get off.

Milan tonight, then Rimini and home. The hotel in Rimini is on the beach, I gather fog is predicted though. Thats Prokofiev for you.

The Italian Job

The LSO truck unloading into the Duomo, next to the Leaning Tower of Pisa

LSO rehearsing in Pisa

There have been numerous occasions in London, when I have been rescued from certain lateness by a black cab. Being someone who usually walks or catches the tube, it is usually with some desperation that I get into a black cab. Because of the rarity of my rides, it always gives me a feeling of boosted self importance to jump in the back and say “Barbican Centre please, as quick as you can!” I wonder if anyone ever asks them to take the scenic route ? Anyway, as you probably know, black cab drivers have to take an exam where they have to have memorized all the street names in London and be able to navigate to them successfully. This is called, The Knowledge. I am always astonished how much information they manage to retain about the muddled street system and still have room for unique opinions on important world matters, usually involving Boris Johnson and the cost of the Olympics in 2012. Joking aside, its easy to take for granted the things which you have on your own doorstep, as I type this, my knuckles are still white with fear after gripping my seat very tightly indeed in a taxi ride in Turin.

On Friday, we arrived in Pisa to kick off this Italian tour, and what a beautiful place it is. The famous tower seems to lean much more than pictures suggest and the surrounding buildings are breathtaking in their beauty. It was incredibly hot in the Duomo for the concert, and Andrew Haveron’s Lark soared beautifully around the wooden ceiling, enjoying some much missed summer warmth. Yesterday, we were greeted with a train strike (On a Saturday) so we had to endure a very long coach journey to Milan, with lunch at a motorway service station-not bad surprisingly! We arrived around 4 and had time for a coffee before the rehearsal and concert. The audience were very appreciative, and playing Mozart and Beethoven with Sir Colin conducting continues to be one of my greatest pleasures in the LSO, he makes it so much fun.

So after the concert we all got on buses and arrived at the hotel in Turin at about 2.30 am. A very long day indeed. The hotel is a huge building that used to be the Fiat factory, if you’ve seen the film, The Italian Job, the proper one with Michael Caine set in Turin, not the American remake set in, er, America, it features quite heavily. There is one famous scene where the minis are driven through the factory and up onto the rooftop test track. This really does exist and I suppose, honed the drivers skills somewhat as it is a very long way down if you skid off. These days it is the jogging track, complete with banked corners. I went up there this morning and I swear there were two blokes running round making car revving noises whilst running. They weren’t from the LSO just in case you were wondering.

As well as the race track scene, you may recall the fantastic stunt driving through the streets, pavements and shopping arcades of Turin, where the minis are driven down steps, through shops etc at breakneck speed. I have a sneaking suspicion, that whilst London cab drivers spend a couple of years going around London on a moped with an a-z learning their craft, the cab driver I had last night simply watched the Italian Job driving sequences and was promptly handed his keys. I’m not sure whether he did actually mount the pavement as everything was too blurred. I’m sure when he heard my accent, he locked the doors, looked at me in the rear view mirror, started whistling the self preservation society and took off.

Having survived, we have a concert this evening in the hall which is built inside the factory building. It is a fantastic hall with a very reverberant acoustic. I listened to the rehearsal of Vaughan Williams symphony No.4 as I don’t play in the piece. I imagine it isn’t very well known in Italy, but I’m sure it will go down well. The hall allows the quiet bits to float effortlessly towards the back and the loud moments really rock the foundations of the hall. It should be a great evening, a great hall, great music and a I can’t think of a better conductor to lead this music.

As the orchestra attacked the final forte chord of the symphony, Colin raised his eyebrows and looked quite taken aback at the sheer level of sound. He turned round to the auditorium seemingly watching the sound echo around the hall, turning back to the orchestra he said something and they all laughed. I couldn’t hear what he said from where I was sat it the stalls, but I expect it was,

“You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!”

I’ll let you know how we get on.