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It’s funny how it’s possible to feel a little lonely in a city the size of New York. There are so many people and yet it is always at this point in the tour when my thoughts turn to home. Don’t get me wrong, I love being here, it’s just that sometimes I wish my family were here too. It has to be said that technology makes keeping in touch much easier. It isn’t so long ago that I remember queueing for the pay phones in the hotel lobby – now there are no pay phones in the hotel lobby. However the best thing these days is Skype. Now I’m sure that all my readers are hip young dudes and know what this is, however for the benefit of the technologically challenged amongst you I shall explain briefly. Skype is a little computer program that allows your computer to become a telephone, you actually talk at the screen and the person you have ’skyped’ hears you from their computer speakers. As it is done over the internet, and we have free wifi, it means you can talk for a long time without cost. Brilliant. It gets even better. You can also see the people you are talking to and they can see you too-its just like Star Trek but without the captains log. My kids get very excited when I phone home as to them, all of a sudden, dad is actually in the computer screen talking to them; they get to show me the stuff they’ve done at school, my daughter shows me cuts on her knees and all the other trivial things of family life which take on enormous importance when you aren’t there.
I thought I would skype just around tea time yesterday. Now picture this, my daughter, who is waiting for her tea is playing with big cook, little cook on the BBC website; they are making cyber bread which I am told she has just put in the oven. My daughter guards her time on the computer fiercely as she has to share it with her two bigger brothers who of course try to dominate it. So as I said, she is sitting happily playing when all of a sudden my face appears on her screen, automatically closing down her bread making program. I can at this time see her in my laptop screen.
“Hello darling, it’s daddy, how are you? Are you being a good girl, I’ve missed you”
It’s at this point that she screams and starts having a tantrum (She’s 5), but manages to say,
“Oh dad, I’ve waited ages to play on this and now your head’s stopped my bread and it’s not fair.”
She then ran off in a huff.
I guess that’s a good thing that she isn’t missing me as much as I am missing her. Anyway, she did regain her composure and we did have a chat later on which made me walk around NYC with a spring in my step, not feeling so lonely anymore.
I felt very lonely again today, although in a room full of about 200 people. It was on stage in the concert at the Lincoln Center. This might strike you as a little odd. Tonight we played Das Lied, some of you may have heard it in London. Typically for Mahler, he orchestrates the huge forces so that at times the singers are pitted against the full force of the LSO and at other times he thins the texture so that one solo line weaves around the soloists. I have one of those lines and boy, does it feel lonely.
I have noticed the sensation before when playing Prelude de l’apres midi; the silence surrounding you is deafening. When we rehearsed Das Lied, it was the first time I had played it in my life. This is scary when Haitink is standing in front of you- I mean, he knows how its supposed to go for goodness sake. I had done my homework and the solo cadenzas with the mezzo fitted. If you don’t know the bit I’m referring to, it is a couple of bits which just involve the cellos holding a low note very quietly indeed and then the flute and mezzo weave a sinuous thread around each other until just the flute is left to gradually descend into nothingness. It can be a spectacular moment, but is absolutely terrifying to pull off in concert. The reason being that you don’t realise how lonely it can feel until there are 200 people watching and listening and suddenly the orchestra is still, hardly daring to breathe. You don’t notice in rehearsal, people are moving around, coughing, writing things in their music; you know, it takes a lot of effort to actually be quiet, and it never happens until the show. It was this evening with the polished hush of Avery Fisher as the 4 bars before my bit gradually became almost inaudible, the silence pressed in on my ears and I felt totally alone. Its that oppressive silence where everything around you seems to stop. It’s a bit like when you wake up early in the morning – it’s quiet, but just normal quiet. You can hear the leaves on the trees, the cars going past and life humming away in the background. That is like the rehearsal. And then there are those mornings when you wake up early and there has been a heavy snowfall – a really deep quiet. The snow seems to absorb the sounds of the cars and leaves, and until you open the curtains, you can’t be sure that someone hasn’t removed the life outside your window. That is what it feels like before I play the cadenzas – everything goes quiet and all my colleagues around me don’t move or breathe in case they make a noise – there is a brief pause after the descending scale and then we are off again to the end.
It’s a wonderful, lonely moment. One of many for me in New York City.
Lets Go Knicks!
“Awight boys and girls? Welcome to Landon ‘Eafrow. I’m Dave your driver an’ I only bin ear 5 minutes so we we might get lost-I ‘ope you ain’t nervous!”
This was the last straw in a very long trip to New York City. We had been on a very cramped, hot plane for seven hours which is never nice, and for some reason the JFK immigration people had decided that they had gotten too welcoming and so decided to make the queuing process even more hideous. This time, we stepped off the plane and then walked all of 10 meters before we joined a queue in a long corridor with a very low ceiling which remarkably managed to be even hotter than the plane. I tried to remain positive by imagining that this new system meant that once we got round the corner ahead, we would be through much quicker.
It wasn’t, in fact it was an extra queue in advance of the normal queue. We stood for 90 minutes.
Sharon and Shiv were in front of me at the desk and so when I went through, the lady asked me if I was in the symphony. I told her I was.
“And what do you play sir?”
“I play the flute”
“Really, thats nice. You don’t look like a flute player”
“Oh”
Well, maybe, Sharon and Shiv are the only flute players she has ever met, in which case, I guess I don’t look like a flute player.
So anyway, by the time we got through to the luggage rack, the belt had stopped moving and half the cases were stuck somewhere in the bowels of the machine so we had to find someone to start it up again. Of course Miriam and Jemma sorted it out as they always do, which left us to trudge across the road to the bus. This is where we met Dave the driver.
Now one of my favourite moments when arriving in this great city is just before you go down into the tunnel to Manhattan. All of a sudden, there in front of you is the beautiful panorama of NYC in all its twinkling glory. It is at this moment when all of the bad plane food and immigration headaches disappear and an enormous sense of expectation fills my body. This time we had Dave.
I imagine his professional cockerney routine goes down well with Dick Van Dyke fans, however having only left London a few hours earlier, his chirpy, well rehearsed patter was met with a groan and a collective thought of “Please make him stop”
Dave realised this and did stop thank goodness and I was able to enjoy my NY moment in peace. His true ex Londoner status was revealed however when we arrived at the hotel and one of the viola section tried to open the door to the luggage hold. Dave turned round and snarled at him whilst slamming the door shut again
“Leave that door alone, its my job to do that.”
Woah easy fella, I suppose in these uncertain times for jobs, he was just being protective, but I was glad he picked a viola player to shout at as they are used to it.
As normal, we had a day off to acclimatise which is when everyone in the LSO runs around like headless chickens, normally with a shopping list from home. I blew away the cobwebs of the day before by going for a run around central park as it was such a gorgeous morning. Its the only place in the world where it feels normal to whizz around in Lycra, although I was impressed at the number of New Yorkers who were able to run up hills at quite a pace whilst maintaining a conversation on their hands free mobiles! It is slightly weird approaching somebody in the middle of central park who appears to be talking to themselves. In fact, checking my pedometer on my return, I could quite clearly see where my pace had quickened several times in an attempt to outrun these people. But pretty soon I got used to seeing them running along talking and gesticulating in the air all on their own.
Its one of the great things about this city that people, unlike in London do actually talk to you. Sometimes. I bumped into Sharon and Trish after my run and joined them for breakfast. They were talking to a guy on the next table when I arrived who must have been in his seventies. He said he was an author and was arranging to leave them copies of his new book and would they like to join him for dinner later at his club which was by the way the best club in the world? Hmm. He barely acknowledged my existence but seemed most taken with the girls, although he did say he would give me a copy of his book about how to dress properly to impress people in different situations! Great. He told us all that women were the future and they were going to rule the world soon. Sharon and Trish agreed of course. He said he had written a book to tell them how to do it.
He seemed unaware of the irony. He eventually left and we asked the waitress if she knew him. She told us that last time he had been in, he claimed to have been John Wayne’s stunt body double in some films. Brilliant. I’ll let you know later if the girls picked up the books, but don’t hold you breath.
So after some shopping, I met up a few friends and we went off to see the New York Knicks play the Boston Celtics at Madison Square gardens. This was basketball in case you didn’t know. I had never been to a game before and it was great fun. I was surprised at how much entertainment was on offer though, in fact the game itself often seemed secondary to the the time out entertainment of dancing girls (great), shoot a hoop from half way for $1000 competition (tricky), disco dancing (odd), kids dressing up in full size knicks gear and then trying to run and score a basket (hilarious) and some others I have forgotten. We had to have foot long hot dogs with Knish (still not sure what it was) and beer with a straw and we joined in with the shouting of de-fense and everything. It was a great night which I really can’t do justice to in this blog, but if you ever come here and have a free evening I can recommend it as a great American night out.
Its fairly early here and I am awake writing this for you before the real work begins, as we are here to work. We have a rehearsal in an hour with Bernard and I have my pass which says, Gareth Davies – Great Performer, on it. No pressure then!
I’ll let you know how we get on, and if Sharon got the books. I do hope she has, especially the one for me about dressing properly- I need to know how to look like a flute player.
Simon Trpceski was a delight to interview, and I pronounced his name correctly you’ll be pleased to know. It turns out that in his spare time he writes pop music, he tells me that at home in Macedonia, he is almost better known as a pop star! He sadly didn’t sing anything for us, but I am going to pay close attention to the Macedonian entry in next years Eurovision song contest.
Simon played the Grieg piano concerto in the opening concert of the festival for the LSO. He was fantastic. He talked earlier about the simplicity of the folk music he played on accordion as a child and how the Grieg was very similar. Of course, it’s the hardest thing in the world to play a simple melody and make it sing, but he did it beautifully. I look forward to seeing him play in London next year.
The second half of the show was devoted to Brahms 1st symphony. Its one of my favourite pieces and a joy to play. Daniel Harding is the conductor in residence this year and he seems to be enjoying himself. In fact, in the programme for the festival he is described as the “European Super conductor”. I always thought that was something to do with quantum mechanics, but Dan doesn’t seem to mind, he’s so relaxed he’s probably following the path of least resistance anyway. Still whatever you call him, he does make the symphony very exciting indeed. The audience gave us a standing ovation which was our queue to move next door for a party where we all danced to a fabulous big band.
This morning, I managed to sit by the pool for a while before the rehearsal. I haven’t mentioned the weather, it would seem like I’m bragging, and if you are reading this in Britain then lets just say its a bit nicer here. However it was soon time to go to the huge arena opposite the hotel for the LSO Pops concert. Tonight is was all themed around speed. I was nervous as it would mean playing fast-a lot. I was right, flight of the bumble bee was the second piece followed by a bit from Harry Potter where the woodwind players zoomed around like broomsticks. But the prize for the night has to go to Carmine Lauri our leader. He stood up in front of a sea of people and played Moto Perpetuo unbelievably fast. I don’t quite know how he does it-his fingers were moving so fast they were a blur. I saw him afterwards by the pool drinking a beer-well deserved, but I’m sure he was probably dipping his fingers in the water to cool them down when nobody was looking. Tommy Pearson was compere for the evening and did a great job keeping the evening flowing along nicely.
I am writing this bed, despite some of my friends going out, I have turned in for the night for tomorrow its my turn up the front. Bryn and I are the soloists in the first half, playing Mozart’s Flute and Harp concerto or as its known here, the Flat and Sharp. I don’t get to stand up at the front very often so I am a bit nervous. No, terrified actually, and to make matters worse we have Mahler 1 in the second half. before that however I have a pre concert interview to do with the soloist. As even I can’t talk to myself for 45 minutes, I’ll be having a chat about harps and strings and things with Bryn before the show.
I’ll let you know how we get on…
It seems like only 2 weeks ago since we last spoke and sure enough, once again we are off to the USA. This time rather than coast to coast across the country we arrive later this week in Daytona Beach and we shall not move until we come home again. We are resident at the Daytona Beach International Festival and will be performing 6 concerts with the orchestra, chamber music concerts, discovery work with young musicians, musicians on call, pre concert talks and interviews and I even get to polish my shoes, stand up the front with Bryn Lewis and play a concerto. In fact we are so busy, I’m not sure I will even manage to see the famous beach.
There will be some extra stuff for you to enjoy on this tour -but you’ll find out about that later. So keep logging on to get the latest information on whats going on and we will keep you entertained with words and pictures.
We just have two concerts left in London with Daniel Harding and then we leave the next morning so I had better start packing. Now where is that factor 50?
Visit
http://www.dbif.com/lsoprev.html
and see the advert!
If you are reading this in England, you might want to go and check your email for a moment and come back in five minutes.
We left a very wet Stansted Airport at 9am this morning, and landed 3 hours later at Palermo airport. If you are enjoying the English summer of rain, I have to tell you that it is 30 degrees and very sunny here. It is a huge contrast to the concert earlier in the week in St Pauls where we concluded the Mahler cycle with number 8. It rained a lot that day. If you missed the concert, you can still hear it on the BBC website or if you go over to St Pauls, you can probably still hear the reverberations. Or you can wait for the CD release later on in the year,
Anyway, back to Italy. We are here to do two concerts with Daniel Harding, playing Brahms 2, Don Juan and Firebird. After arriving at the hotel we had a quick lunch, fortunately, being in Italy, it is culturally relevant to have a quick bowl of pasta, and it always tastes better than in England, I expect its the rain-sorry to rub it in.
We drove straight past the concert hall, I hadn’t read the schedule, as it turned out that we were playing outside. Now I have a soft spot for outdoor dates as I spent every summer of the first 5 years of my career in muddy fields with the Bournemouth Symphony-happy days. We played on an open air stage with no roof, no chance of rain you see. Sorry! I was concerned at the ambient noise during the rehearsal, the stage was surrounded by Cyprus trees full of crickets who felt the need to join in. However, I am happy to report that they stayed quiet for the show. Sadly the local dog population did make their presence felt during the quiet bits in the second half.
Its always strange playing outdoors as the lack of reverberation makes it feel like you are playing in a dead box. It is quite difficult to judge how loudly or quietly you are playing as well. Rather disconcertingly, the applause was very quiet, although as it was fairly prolonged, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Even the dogs and crickets.
We began with a hot and steamy performance of Don Juan with a beautiful oboe solo from our guest principal oboe, David Theodore. Wearing tails is never my outfit of choice, but in the humid Italian evening it was almost unbearable. So as the opening of the Firebird competed with an offstage mobile phone ringtone, a cool breeze drifted in from the east, physically and musically. Most welcome. Almost as welcome as the cold beer after Brahms 2.
At the end of a very long day, most of the band drifted into the centre of town in search of a quick bite to eat. My small group managed to find a lovely little place down a small side street which it turned out had a kitchen 5 minutes walk away, not a good sign especially as the pizzas arrived two by two over a 30 minute period. Always being sensitive to local custom and traditions, and having had pasta at lunchtime, we all decided to eat pizza.
It was the worst thing I have ever eaten in my life. Probably the equivalent of an Italian having his first roast beef and Yorkshire pudding in one of those reheated carvery/refectory places. Next time I pass the one near me and see some tourists, I’m going to take them round to my mums for a proper roast dinner.
Still apparently there is an outdoor pool at todays hotel. And still no rain.
I’ll let you know how we get on.
Since we last spoke, the LSO has been busy with Gergiev doing Mahler, Strauss and Mozart with Haitink, and Mozart and Brahms with Previn. It has been non stop, with a whistlestop trip to Paris that was so brief, I didn’t have time to tell you about it. We now have 3 weeks left before the end of term with one more trip to Italy later on in June, and then we can all relax for a couple of weeks before the Prokofiev Cycle starts in Edinburgh before we cover most of the globe in the following months.
I am writing this in my hotel room in Cologne as we tie up a few loose ends from the last tour. We are playing Bruckner 6 and Schubert Unfinished with Sir Colin. Last night we were in Dusseldorf in a concert hall which looks like a cross between the London Planetarium and Guildford Borough Council Chambers. I’m sure you can picture it perfectly. We actually got on a bus after the show and came to stay in Cologne. It made for a very long day as we had checked in at 8 am in terminal 5, but it did mean we all had a very welcome lie in today.
Now those of you who follow our travels, will probably be smiling at the thought of the entire LSO losing their luggage in terminal 5, much like when the instruments didn’t arrive in Dijon. I am happy to report that this time, everything went smoothly, although despite my previous experience of Gordon Ramsey in NY, his full English at £16.50 lost out to a coffee and sandwich in a well known chain.
Of course, as I didn’t have to get up this morning, I woke up bright and early and went for a run along the river in the ever increasing temperature. Its amazing how many people from the orchestra you bump into, running on tour. Mainly the thin ones of course, but with so much sitting around on planes, trains and woodwind sections, it certainly does help blow the cobwebs away.
Sadly any good I did was destroyed by a visit to the Chocolate factory here in Cologne, and the shop. There is a long line of machines which do various things to chocolate and finally spit them out into bags which a little old lady ties up and packs away. Rather disappointingly, she was a normal old lady, didn’t sing and there was no river of chocolate.
Sir Colin is on fine form once again and once again he coaxes a sound out of the orchestra which is unique. Someone asked me last week, why different conductors make the orchestra sound so different. The answer is that I really don’t know, and to be honest I don’t want to think about it too much. I’m sure somebody knows why Sir Colin, Haitink, Previn and Gergiev all make us sound different, but don’t tell me, I’m enjoying the magic.
Besides, I’ve already discovered that umpa loompas aren’t real, and the river is made of water. I can’t take anymore revelations today. I’ve got a concert to do.
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