Mobile and Immobile

We had a free day today, (well, except for the concert in the evening) so a small group of us from the woodwind section thought it would be nice to wander down to the Prado. Unfortunately the weather was being very British, so by the time we reached the gallery we were soaked to the skin. The first thing we did when we arrived was pile into the cafe to warm up with a hot drink-we sat, huddled round hot chocolate, steaming gently. The Prado was as interesting as ever, with paintings I hadn’t had time to see when I was there last time. After a few hours of walking round we all decided that we had had enough, my back was aching and my feet were still very wet indeed. To prevent trench foot, we reconvened in a restaurant near the hotel which has one of those fantastically mistranslated menus. Now I don’t wish to laugh at things like this especially as my Spanish skills are limited, but sometimes its easier to try and translate the Spanish menu rather than translate the English menu. In case you were wondering, we all had the special of the day which was

 

“Land fill ravioli of bees with cheese of the thyme goat aroma”

 

I assure you, that is a direct quotation. Tasted nice though.

 

The first half of the concert was the Bartok music for strings, percussion and Celeste – this has no woodwind in it. It was a welcome break for half the orchestra to stretch out on the sofas backstage or drink espresso to kick start the evening. All too soon however we were back out onto the stage for Brahms 1, one of my favourite pieces. In Madrid, just before the leader walks on, there is a recorded announcement to remind you to switch your phone off. It always makes me jump as it is so unbearably loud, this is then followed by a lot of fumbling in the audience and the orchestra. There is no mobile signal in the Barbican so we always have to remember to switch off elsewhere, however on this occasion someone in the audience forgot. To make matters worse, they were directly in Daniel’s line of sight (the audience sits all around the orchestra). Now I don’t know whether it had already gone off in the loud bits and we just didn’t hear it but in a pause in the slow movement, they received a text message. I hope it was important as Daniel fired a look at them that could probably kill at 30 paces. When my brother got married, my two boys, who were page boys, had behaved well all day. They were only about 4 and 6 at the time and were bored in the speeches. They decided to crawl under all the tables which was very cute until they decided to crawl under the table with the wedding cake on. It moved, and they turned and looked at me. I couldn’t shout out as there were speeches going on, so I gave them the dad look. It was exactly the same look Daniel used. I am happy to say, there were no more mobiles-oh and the wedding cake was fine.

Coming home after Salamanca was a bit of a disaster I’m afraid. We got up very early to get on a charter plane at what is one of the smallest airports I’ve been to. It has one main room to wait in and then the gate-you walk across the tarmac to get on the plane. As there was only one plane until the second flight in the evening, it was fairly empty. Everything went smoothly, we boarded the plane and then nothing happened. There was a fault and so we had to get back off. This could get very dull so I shall skip through what happened.

1. We boarded

2. A fault was diagnosed

3. We got off

4. We had another coffee

5. More coffee

6. We got back on to get our hand luggage

7. we got off again

8. Coffee

9. A new plane was sent from Madrid

10. 3 hour wait and more coffee

11. New plane arrives

12. It doesn’t have enough fuel to get to London

13. Wait for a refueling plane

14. More coffee

15. Refueling plane arrives after an hour

16. It doesn’t have enough fuel

17. Refueling plane goes off to refuel

18. Comes back and refuels our new plane

19. We get on

20. We arrive back at Stansted about 6 hours late

21. Orchestra goes straight to a rehearsal at St Lukes through the rush hour.

22. Orchestra curls up in a corner thinking that there must be easier jobs.

International jetsetting at its most glamorous.

Joost relaxing during the Bartok. I checked, he was breathing

Torque of the Town

Sorry Paul, technical hitch, here you are-more to follow…

It looks like its going to rain in Spain, again. We are at this very moment sitting on a brand new train travelling from Valladolid to Madrid, and there are very dark storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Sue, once again is prowling the corridors looking for victims to sign up for extra work, although today she has to be really quick as this is a short journey and she only has 80 minutes feeding time. I have been reading through a few articles about the LSO which some of you have emailed me recently. One article in particular caught my eye last week. The journalist in question is no stranger to controversy, regularly writing books and articles which polarise opinion. Now, I don’t think this blog is the place to start a war of words as it is supposed to be about the tour, but honestly, did you read it? Jeremy Clarkson said that we were a tribute band in his weekly rant in the Sunday Times. The way he sees it, is that because we only play other peoples music rather than original material, it means we are no different to bands who emulate their musical heroes by trying to sound exactly like them. Of course, if Mr Clarkson were to come to an LSO concert, he wouldn’t hear a faithful facsimile of the first performance of Brahms 1 (which we are playing tonight). He wouldn’t see the original line up of the LSO, I think all the founder members are no longer with us. He would hear one interpretation of Brahms. We also sound very different depending on who is conducting and also the LSO of 2008 sounds different to the orchestra of 1904. He probably should have called us a covers band really as we do perform other peoples material. But of course, just like in his popular motoring show-fifth gear- which my kids love, whatever he says is always with his tongue firmly in his cheeks.

The reason for bringing this up at all is that we are playing this week with Daniel Harding. Some of you will have heard the concert on Sunday at the Barbican when we played Sibelius 7. This is a piece we have played quite a lot with Sir Colin and yet the two conductors bring such different things to the same piece. I have said this kind of thing before in the blog, but it never ceases to amaze me how the same dots on a page can sound so different when the guy with the stick is different. Certainly Daniel has very clear and strong ideas about how he wants the music to sound, he always comes across as someone who has thought very deeply about the music. However, with the same ideas in his head, it would be a very different performance if he was standing in front of a different orchestra. I really like the way he shapes the Schumann symphony No 2. Its not a piece I know at all but has some great tunes and Daniel has been getting us to lighten up a bit-not surprising after weeks of Prokofiev!

We are joined once again by the fabulous Imogen Cooper who is playing a Mozart concerto. She is such a joy to play with, it almost feels like playing in a chamber group as she is constantly listening to the orchestra and reacting to things we do as well as the other way round. Every night, the performance is slightly different but always the highlight of the concert for me.

I have to stop writing now I’m afraid. We are approaching Madrid, it has started raining heavily and Sue is now sitting opposite me with a schedule a red pen and a look of steely determination. She either wants to sort out a chamber concert or have an arm wrestle, its difficult to tell. Either way, resistance is futile…

ps. You remember the saga at Spoleto? Well, someone has put some of the concert on YouTube if you want to have a look. Just the sunny bit though!