I just spent a few days up north and was reminded of a pub I visited from time to time many years ago on the N. York. moors on Blakey Ridge close by Rosedale. It's a beautiful place in the summer and bleak in the winter. On the ridge is the 'pub at Blakey', or more precisely the Lion Inn. Two out of three of the band who played there are dead now, but their first album was my first truly great one. I had progressed somewhat, musically speaking, since an opening vinyl purchase featuring Adge Cutler and the Wurzles, a statement surely worthy of an exclamation mark. Back Door came soon after.
There's a vogue these days for virtuoso electric bass players, but, I'm guessing, the bass player in this band was the first to turn his instrument into bass, rhythm and lead all in one and without any overdubs, too. Back Door were Ron Aspery, Alto and Soprano Sax and Flute; Colin Hodgkinson, Fender Bass; Tony Hicks, Drums. Their jazz-rock style is infused with furiously fast melody lines played in unison on all three instruments, contrasted with atmospheric slowies that invoke the bleak moorland and the sheep outside the lonely pub's back door.
My vinyl of Back Door is playable but noisy in the way that vintage vinyl is, so their music was well worth the media change to CD. (I prefer CD, not download, btw, with its insert from the original album cover. I'll still play the vinyl version from time to time.) This is music from the early seventies so, if you are a contemporary music type, just keep in mind that this is well past the time of Stockhausen, who all of us are trying still to get to grips with. I'm not easily thrilled by music these days. This music continues to do it for me.
It's possible that the mistake Back Door made was signing with Warner Brothers when they had an early offer from the virgin Virgin Records who were then just about to make it big and take many new bands with them. Back Door had their day in the lime light though and deserve to be revisited; as is the Lion if you are ever passing that way.
Ever mindful of the way our Newent Orchestra might progress, I've been giving
thought to what we can do next and how we might develop it (or not!).
Membership has continued to grow and, along with that, arise new
opportunities and new problems to be dealt with. The question is how to
maintain the best of what we have while allowing change to happen.
During our last term we tried a new concert schedule with an extended
season finishing in June, so that an additional concert could be
encompassed. It was a successful move. But what next?
Everyone
has their own ideas and wish list. Here's an outline of mine, including a
little blue sky thinking. Personally, I'm more enthusiastic about the
new than the old. I see the merit in introducing people who are new to
classical music to the wonders of its classics, but my own penchant is
for something I've heard less often and has more relevance to me as a
creature of the 20th and now 21st centuries. Imagine my surprise as a
fan of composer, Jonathan Harvey (look him up), when I became hooked on some old-time romantic song music.
Old
Time Music Hall began in the middle of the 19th century and was a
presence in entertainment for about 100 years thereafter, declining only
with the advent of radio and then TV and superceded by the musical
songsmiths, such as our own Ivor Novello, by jazz and the big band era.
It had some great tunes and words that, I suppose, spoke directly to its
audience about human emotion and relationships, about life. The serious
classical composers, too, dealt with questions of the human condition
but have been placed on a plane more to do with existential philosophy
than raw emotion, love and laughter. However, those music halls were in
some ways akin to classical opera with its rowdy, expressive audiences
who were as likely to boo their villains as cheer their favourites.
When
I first joined, Newent Orchestra would present traditional classical
concerts, consisting of an overture, followed by a guest soloist, then a
symphony. That was great music to play but, as an amateur orchestra,
was not an audience magnet. Then we began to play shorter, more
entertaining pieces from the classical repertoire, providing programmes
of much greater variety. That worked well. The 'variety' approach would
appear to be our strength and is probably the area that, rather than
moving on from, we should develop. It's the direct communication that
audiences like and respond to, the 'we're all in this together', loving
and laughing, being touched by the music, the performance and the
'old-time' togetherness. Those are just a few thoughts. Make of them
what you will.
It's taken over seven months to complete this composition and I felt the need to express one or two thoughts after such a long time living with it. It's the most ambitious piece that I've come up with so far and the writing process has been interesting, to say the least. The idea was to take some pictorial themes in and around Newent and to represent them in music. There are five: the lake; its spring daffodils; the market square and main streets; the Onion Fayre; and May Hill with its top-knot of trees.
Music is an abstract art so the listener is more important than the composer in deciding how to respond to or interpret the music. However, because of my relative inexperience in composition the writing has been an instinctive rather than academic process and the end result seems, to me, clearly descriptive. Satisfyingly though, the music stands on its own, without any titles or descriptions to go with it.
The brief to myself was to make the music enjoyable to play and listen to and was written particularly with the Newent Orchestra in mind. Happily, having (hopefully) met these criteria this has not meant any dumbing-down. Compared with a Shostakovitch or a Prokofiev opus, my stuff is easy going, but easy does not mean the music is lacking in depth or interest and listeners will detect a fusion of influences from Baroque to folk, including calypso! It's my hope that the symphony will have appeal well beyond the boundaries of Newent.
A concert has been scheduled to launch the Newent Symphony at the end of March. In keeping with the descriptive, even visual nature of the music, an art exhibition celebrating Newent in art, poetry and photography will be run in conjunction with the concert. This is quite an ambitious project, involving a much expanded orchestra membership, its brass contingent and percussion, involving also a complete community cross-section of young and old alike to both create the event and come and listen. Although this sounds somewhat ambitious, a ringing endorsement has been achieved already with the awarding of a substantial grant for staging the concert. That was great news to me and I openly thank clarinetist, Claire Townshend, for her support and for obtaining this bonanza for our orchestra.
You can preview the music at www.billanderton.uk/compositions.html
I've
been doing a little research into local folk music. The reason is that I
wanted to make reference to one or two old, local folk tunes in an
orchestral piece that I'm writing. It appears that Cecil Sharp, the
erstwhile gatherer of folk tunes visited Newent in 1910 when he noted
tunes from "Charlie" Baldwin when he was in Newent workhouse. The
workhouse is now our Community Centre building on Ross Road, where, a
nice little coincidence, the orchestra rehearses. Charlie Baldwin was
born in 1827 at Gorsley Common, described (I like this!) as a "wild and
untamed place", on a drovers' route from Wales and a stopping place for
travellers. One of several tunes Cecil Sharp collected from Charlie was
'Polly Put the Kettle On'.
Folk and classical music can seem miles apart and this gap is defined in
medieval times when the goals of sacred and secular composers were
different. Composers of sacred music sought to bring a mystical
atmosphere to church, while secular music was made solely for
entertainment, for dance and to express love. Sacred composers were
formally trained while secular composers were not. The two forms of
music represented a musical separation in society between the trained
and the untrained, basically between the privileged and the poor. This
division still exists today but not so clearly in terms of rich and poor
but as an unfortunate musical snobbery: there are the commoners who
love their folk, pop, rock and country music, and those who are
'classically trained' and ostensibly appreciate the finer things in
music. At this point, I'll drink a toast to crossover music.
Where was I - oh, yes, onions. The music I'm attempting to write is a
tone poem, with scenes inspired by some aspects of life in Newent. One
such scene is the Onion Fayre, which takes over the town for one day in
September (this year on the 10th). Revived in recent times the fayre has
medieval roots so I thought it appropriate to make reference, in music,
to medieval folk traditions and combine this with something more
modern.
The Newent Orchestra has a stall to promote itself at the Onion Fayre and this
year, will be doubling the size of the stall to present
some live music throughout the day. If you are wandering past, you might
hear some of our woodwind and brass musicians, and one or two string
chamber groups. You might also hear the strains of a couple of those
scenes in and around Newent depicted in music, one in particular owing
something to Cecil Sharp and Charlie Baldwin.
