Sunday 20 November 2005

Ugh. Got a cold. Had a useful couple of days though. On Friday a meeting, concluded with a handshake, means that we now have an agent again, and an orchestral manager/librarian for the John Passion in March.  Then yesterday Margaret Preston and I spent an hour or so on stage in the empty Music Hall in Aberdeen, playing through some sonatas by General Reid to choose one for a concert in February. I've been asked to play a recital for the Reid Memorial concert at Edinburgh University, in which you have to play some Reid, so it made sense to me to bring along a flute player and play some of his music properly rather than just busking my way through one of his tunes on my own. 

A very particular thing happened in the concert last night: I stopped playing mid-piece (I think I've only ever done this on stage once before). Given the way a particular passage was happening around me, there was nothing I could usefully contribute to it, so I stopped and sat and listened for a while, waiting for something I could join in with. Twice in rehearsal I'd suggested how to improve it and had got temporary results, but sometimes you just have to give up. When I started playing again, it was with a greater sense of freedom, no longer shackled by the requirement to play every note. Robbins Landon once told me that he got frustrated when hearing people who play accurate continuo parts in classical symphonies, because what would have been played would be quite free, and periodically interrupted by hand-waving and conducting.

The SCO is a good band to be on stage with: there's a sense of community and a desire to connect with the audience that expresses itself well. But I couldn't help noticing that everyone had their eyes glued to the page throughout the actual playing. I can play Brandenburg 4 without having to look at the score much (I know how it goes) so I could look around the band for people to play with, and in the course of three concerts I made eye contact with absolutely no-one. Not once. That's orchestras for you.

There was someone sitting in the front row being very selective with her applause, arms folded resolutely at certain points. I wholeheartedly approve of this: I don't think you should have to applaud and pretend to be pleased if you don't like something. In the interval I suggested to Alexander Janiczek that we start the second half by offering her her money back: he replied that once Pinchas Zukerman actually got his wallet out on stage, and did this in a concert to someone who was distracting him.

The lack of late trains out of Aberdeen means a lot of driving. My lack of attention to the notice on the parking ticket machine behind the Music Hall meant a £30 parking fine. But for the first time I gave into contemporary cultural pressure and put my iPod on shuffle to keep me entertained en route. I can't imagine any other circumstances when I'd put shuffle on, as I like to decide what I'm going to listen to, but it's an excellent way to stay awake on a long drive.