Following the score

Press, 25 August 1980, Page 14

Following the score

Bv

HEATH LEES

Last week in this column I concentrated on the serious business of the Concert programme: its Contribution To Civilisation As We Know It. in a somewhat different vein L wonder about the future. As orchestras, for example, disappear more and more into insolvency and music, promoters look around for new ways to attract patrons and listeners, ’ the Concert programme could provide the answer by offering music and rugbj r as usual, but together, not separately. Now there’s a thought. Something like the following review may be commonplace in ten years time:

Saturday’s broadcast concert from the Town Hall showed once again how far the image of professional music-making has fallen. The behaviour of the crowd was appalling, and indeed the manner in which the play was conducted left a lot to be desired, too. The concert got off to a bad start before- a note was played, when the leader of the orchestra was reprimanded for backchatting the. conductor. Apparently the conductor had mistimed his entry and the leader felt tL;.t the players had not been allowed sufficient time to warm up before play commenced. A brief though heated discussion took place during which a member of the first XI violins jostled a member of the second XI, a trombonist was heard to produce some less-than-cul-tured sounds, and the gestures from the lady harpist were highly ambiguous. It was obvious that this incident marred the opening play, but by'the time

we were 10 minutes into the overture “Lancaster Park” there had been some colourful play and the centre violas with the benefit of perfect pitch had set up some fine midfield moves which, unfortunately, the violins were often slow to complete. Half-way through the overture came a beautiful, almost perfect, cadence which had been prepared some time before by the flutes and clarinets. Having positioned themselves cleverly in the middle of the texture they suddenly soared upwards with the rest of the music trying hard to keep up, but failing. The note was easily put into tonio and the score confirmed. The crowd was ecstatic at this bit of inspired playing, add in the general pause that followed the flutes and clarinets were seen to be hugging and kissing each with delight. The conductor finally waved play on, but the rest of the overture passed without incident.

In the second half, the star soloist, Ivor Beerbelli, was brought on, a decision that was greeted with enthusiasm by the cheering spectators. Beerbelli of course gained his reputation as a striker with the Nelson Notespinners, and it is rumoured that his fee to come to Christchurch was the -highest paid in living memory. Beerbelli certainly justified the' faith the concert promoters must have had in him to bring him all this way as the new striker. There is no doubt but that he is an agressive player. Just the sight of him limbering. up, adjusting the piano stool, and contemptuously cleaning the dirt off the keyboard

was sufficient to put new life into the players. The concerto, a new work in the current Frustrationist idiom, .was a hardfought affair with very few loose notes to worry the conductor. Ln the finale, though, Beerbelli disagreed with the tempo of the hapless bassoon that was accompanying him, and let loose with a thundering crescendo. The bassoonist faltered and fell, the crowd roared again, and in the distance one could see the composer being carried off on the stretcher that has so thoughtfully been obtained by an Arts Council grant. The crowd misbehaved constantly, and some members were responsible for near-disasters. When one particular cue approached, a member of the audience played the appropriate phrase on a trumpet he must have smuggled in. The conductor turned round and shouted, “Take it away” but of course the violins, thinking this was directed at them came surging in on the attack to their next phrase. The orchestra trainer was brought on and the score re-set, but the inevitable chaos' continued, and finally the play was abandoned. In the near future the rugby season will be over and the cricket season will feature with the music on the Concert programme. No doubt there ,will be none of this rough element, but six-hour symphonies of poetry in motion. It will be Andante, or even Adagio, with the baton rather than with the boot. Though come to think of it if the first fixture is with the West Indies I think I for one will keep my concert helmet on, thank you.