Electric Proms 2009 / Robbie Williams

I missed the live broadcast of Robbie Williams’ Electric Proms gig. I heard about it though. People were raving about it to me whilst I was at Radio 3’s Free Thinking Festival last weekend.

I must watch it, I thought. So I watched it online switching from the full screen version on my laptop to follow the set list (and avoid Scott Mills’ face – his appearance in both Attitude Magazine and Gay Times this month means the cutesy Radio 1 DJ may be in danger of jumping the shark if he’s not careful).

It was nice to see Williams back. It was nice too to hear songs given a thorough orchestration by producer Trevor Horn. The strings sounded iffy in places but the sound of a timpani underpinning some dramatic moments in various tracks made for a nice effect combined with the interestingly satisfying interior of The Roundhouse packed full of screaming girls. (I tried to overlook the appearance of James Corden and Dec from Ant and Dec fame.)

But there is a fly in the ointment I thought. I’m sure there’s a few places where Robbie’s not necessarily delivering 100% on the intonation front. There are moments, I’m sure of it, when the cheeky chappy whose swagger can be just a bit too much at times just can’t reach those top notes. Maybe it’s me being overcritical, I thought. Maybe I should give the boy I was once obsessed with (didn’t you see the Rock DJ video?) a second chance.

BBC HD re-ran the concert last night. Me and The Significant Other watched it this afternoon.

I can confirm that I wasn’t wrong. There are many times when Robbie illustrates to what extent he needs to work on his live performance. I was surprised to see him reading from his autocue, amazed to observe he had the obligatory ear-piece in just one ear. And yet at various points it was clear the massive orchestra behind him and the track played into his ear wasn’t helping. I grimaced a number of times. I’m sorry Mr Williams but I did. You need to work on this.

What’s infinitely more frustrating is the reviews from the mainstream press about the concert (Independent, Times Online, The Guardian). Not one other person picks up on the intonation troubles Williams suffered. It’s as though there’s a different quality threshold rehabilitated popstars must reach in order to get four out of five stars. It’s as though we’re happy to overlook that. It’s as though they were all given a free ticket, access to the VIP area and plenty of booze for the night. That does so make my blood boil.

Why is this important? Possibly because Williams has a story and, as a result, a place in our hearts. He did great stuff and we want him to do great stuff again. Perhaps we want him to acquire that much-desired ‘national treasure’ status. I do. He fits the bill. You’ve just got to turn in a consistently high standard of performance Robbie. I’m stickler for perfection.

>> Watch the live performance of Robbie Williams’ concert at the BBC Electric Proms

Phillipa Ibbotson, conductors and career suicide

Philipa Ibbotson may – if her admission on Radio 4’s PM programme this afternoon (it’s 37 minutes in) that friends of hers have said ’she’ll never work again’ – seems defiant responding to criticism about her recent Guardian blog post.

If you’ve not read it, here’s a brief (and I hope) reasonably accurate summary.

Orchestral players get a raw deal because they’re not paid enough for their obvious talents. Conductors in the UK sometimes get as much as £25,000 per concert. She questions whether conductors really represent true value for money. And if they don’t represent value for money, couldn’t they take a pay cut like Bruce Forsyth has done over Strictly Come Dancing?

It’s an interesting point. It’s a reasonably interesting idea. But there’s something in her tone during this broadcast which leaves me cold.

She says that she’s paying far too close attention to the music she’s playing to pay due deference to the conductor whose paid so very much to stand up and beat time with his baton.

A surprising admission. I have heard enough badly performed works to appreciate finely nuanced performances both in the concert hall and on CD. The performances which are memorable aren’t those who have been arrived at because of a democratically agreed artistic interpretation amongst the players, but ultimately because of the artistic vision of the man who beats time (and in some cases during the live TV broadcasts during the Proms) sweats buckets. Sure, the orchestra could problably perform without the conductor, but it is the conductor who drives the machine. And an orchestra without a conductor would mean us bloggers wouldn’t have anyone to blame when it does go wrong. Singling out one player for shoddy intonation seems like bad form. (If you disagree, please let me know.)

There are plenty of conductors who perhaps don’t make the grade. If you can’t play professionally, then conduct. If you can’t conduct, then compose. If you can’t compose (or play professionally), you may want to consider teaching. But still, those conductors have their place. They’re vital to the machine. They’re also vital (sadly) to ticket sales. That concert-going public loves a big name. Audiences love celebrity. It is a fact of life. That’s why people flocked to see Yehudi Menuhin conduct concerts. The orchestral players felt differently – but still, there was a kick playing to a capacity audience.

Maybe there’s good reason for a conductor to take a pay cut. I can live with that idea. But don’t, whatever you do, think for a moment that a conductor taking a pay cut means the orchestral musicians will see their salaries rise. It doesn’t work like that. That would unstitch the very fabric of time.

That’s not to say orchestral musicians are not deserving of more money – and whilst we’re on the subject, you might want to stop and consider their working conditions. For some it’s playing gigs every night. For those single types that kind of schedule plays havoc with your social life making romantic liaisons almost entirely centred on the workplace (what a hideous prospect that could be if the eye-candy is poor?).

All I’m saying is, there are probably better ways to improve the situation. Nobody likes a whinger. And whilst I’m more than happy to accept that I’m not showing due gratitude for Ms Ibbotson’s efforts or those of my friends for their playing abilities, I just think there’s a better way of taking action.

New music composers everywhere

I took a night off from the Proms this evening – well, OK, I listened to Ravel’s Mother Goose suite performed by the Philharmonia. Good as it was, my eyes were swiftly drawn to the latest blog post from WordPress.com triumphantly announcing the latest code allowing bloggers to embed SoundCloud content in their blogs.

What the hell was SoundCloud? Do I really want to sign up for something else?

Yes. I found it difficult not to. And when I had done I realised I’d stumbled on a library of MP3 creations by other users. My particular favourite was this. I’m not a big fan of techno or house or garage or dubstep or whatever the hell the other genres are, but this soundscape seem to fire up my imagination.

Oh look. Free WordPress is even lets me embed it too. Hows about that.

Proms 2009: Diary (5)

I’m not absolutely convinced I’ve got the hang on these Boo wotnots. It always seems like a nice idea but invariably I end up listening to it back and thinking its all just a little bit too weird. Still, at least there’s time to polish the act so to speak between now and the beginning of the BBC Proms. Fingers crossed I get my season ticket in time….

Listen!

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Proms Diary 2009 (4) – BBC Symphony Orchestra @ Westfieldspo

The BBC Symphony Orchestra rocked up at nearby Westfield Shopping Centre ahead of the Proms as part of a “Proms Out and About” promoting the forthcoming season. In addition to seeing a variety of little helpers dressed in green and yellow t-shirts, I also got a chance to see Radio 3 Controller Roger Wright being all normal and lovely having donned a pair of stout trainers and eating a banana. Quite a treat.

I couldn’t resist recording a bit of audio …

LSO \ George Fenton \ Barbican

Composer George Fenton maintained a modest presence on the podium at the Barbican Concert Hall during a special concert featuring music from a career spanning over thirty years.

Fenton’s unfailing self-effacing style was endearing. It also ensure attention remained squarely on his work played by a band who clearly showed their appreciation of his film and tv scores and his low-key conducting style.

If at times it felt as though an entire programme of film music lacked a narrative, Fenton’s music successfully sold a collection of film and TV programmes to one member of the audience in need of some long-overdue Saturday afternoon distractions.

The best half was undoubtedly the second with the Dam Buster-esque music from Valiant and Beyond the Clouds. High Spirits did what it said on the tin.

Everyone knew Cry Freedom would rise to a suitable climax, but it was singer Nicola Emmanuelle’s rendition of Fenton’s China Moon which unexpectedly made me bristle. Fenton at his absolute who must have been writing music in an incredibly good mood given the effect his writing was having on the percussion section.

George Fenton

With so much information available on the internet I do sometimes find myself feeling a tad guilty for not feeling arsed to go and find out stuff off my own back. Sometimes I need an impetus. Sometimes I need to be provoked into finding out stuff about someone or something.

That spark of interest came from Tommy Pearson’s excellent Stage and Screen Online podcast interview with film and TV composer George Fenton (left). There’s a total of an hours worth of fascinating conversation between the two discussing the process he followed composing the film soundtrack to Ghandi. There’s also plenty of discussion about his other film scores to boot.

Quite apart from the fact Fenton comes across as a refreshingly humble and charming individual, what really surprised me was learning about Fenton’s work on various TV programmes I remember watching as a kid. In particular was the signature tune to BBC Breakfast Time, the first network breakfast programme in the UK and guaranteed to provoke a warm fuzzy feeling whenever I hear it.

I remember the moment well, sat in front of the fan heater in a cold lounge at home, up in time to watch the first programme go out. I remember there being something really quite exciting about the music back then. That combined with the arresting simple visuals provided a fitting moment in television. At least that’s how I think I recall it.

Whilst I can’t be sure whether he was the man behind the following news based signature tune (I know he composed Newsnight – and he discusses it at the end of the first part of Pearson’s podcast), I’m fairly certain he must have had a hand in the BBC’s One O Clock news from the mid-eighties.

The compositional style mirrors that of Breakfast Time effortless. It has, for me at least, Fenton’s name written all over it. It successfully combined urgency and excitement without the usual self-conscious impending doom associated with so many present-day news themes. It promised hope rather pessimism. The soundtrack combined with the graphics communicated integrity. It should come as no surprise it was around about the same time as I started dreaming of being a newsreader, a dream I might add I haven’t realised.

Hear Tommy Pearson’s podcast interview with composer George Fenton (Part One / Part Two)

Fenton is also in conversation with Tommy Pearson on Sunday 7 June prior to a London Symphony Orchestra concert in the Barbican Concert Hall featuring a selection of the composer’s film and TV scores. Be sure to go.

Look at my sexy widget

Maybe I misunderstood Handel

    

Pasta & Parsley, originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good.

I am a walking cliche. Not only am I proud homosexual with a partner, a mortgage, two gorgeous fluffy cats and no real desire to adopt or engage with a surrogate mother, but I’m also a red wine drinker, a bloke who likes to cook and finds pine worktops and directional kitchen lighting appealing. I am everything you see in the adverts and more.

Tonight is quite possibly the first night in a long, long time I’ve found myself relaxing. It’s been a massive indulgence, first taking a trip to a nearby electrical store to replace a much-loved and now totally defunct bathroom radio, then spending the remainder of the evening casually sipping red wine whilst I cook a cheeky little number from Rachel Allan’s Favourite Food.

It’s the spicy creamy sausage with pasta in case you’re interested served with a scraping of parmesan cheese and fresh chopped parsley from the garden. Yes, that’s right. We grow our own herbs.

What’s striking amongst this sickening and shameful scenario (I work in a media industry which looks down its nose at people who appreciate feeling comfortable and contented) is to what extent I reckoned it’s contributed to me appreciated the music of a composer I have in recent weeks denounced as “boring”.

Some people reckon George Friedrich Handel’s music is beautiful. Those same people fail to understand why it is I find it deathly dull. Don’t make me sit and listen to his Messiah. I know I won’t enjoy it.

And yet, a small number of glasses of red wine and the ridiculous kitchen setting described above, and I’m prepared to confess that I may possibly have been converted to Handel’s music. True, it’s music coming out of a smallish radio in the corner of the kitchen and I am flitting in and out of the kitchen to take in the view of South East London from the front door, but I am listening to his music (in a sense). That’s a start.

Bea Arthur Dies

News that Bea Arthur has died hasn’t gone down very well in this particular gay household. She was after all a bit of a legend, quite possibly one of those icons highly thought of but not often thought about and yet still sadly missed when her departure was announced a few hours ago. 

There’s plenty written already about what the Golden Girls star achieved during her acting career. In fact, most of the online news stories share similar key facts. It’s almost like they’re all writing from the same press release. I hope to God that one of the journalists who wrote up the stories actually remembers the woman performing or watching The Golden Girls when it first went out. The idea that some whippersnapper who has no appreciation of Arthur’s identity is writing up the story fills me with fear and dread. 

I reached for my laptop as soon as I heard and searched for the opening credits of The Golden Girls. One last chance to listen to Andrew Gold’s hauntingly melancholic melody. “Thank You For Being A Friend” seemed self-indulgently appropriate in light of the death of such a star. 

What do I find? YouTube returns various results featuring the opening credits of the show which most know Bea Arthur from. This is the cut down version however. It lasts only 42 seconds. 

The full version – the full song recorded by Andrew Gold – has been pulled from the YouTube network because publishers WMG have requested it. 

Leaves a bit of a sour taste in the mouth for those of us who look for any excuse to shed a big gay man’s tear.

Still, thank God for Jonathan Denmark who delivers a smashing rendition in HD. Seems WMG are reasonably OK with that. Presumably they only possess the mechanical rights to the Andrew Gold’s performance …

Obviously I should focus. This post was meant to be about Bea Arthur. She’s dead. Us lot in the community are all very sad. At least, I am.

Radio: Messiah \ Handel \ St James’ Baroque

Nobody is forced to listen to radio. I certainly didn’t have to listen to Radio 3’s live broadcast of Handel’s Messiah this evening. Nobody told me I had to listen to it. And yet I felt I ought to.

This sense of obligation was in part down to a self-imposed feeling of near loneliness following my recent confession that I found George Friederich Handel’s music “boring”. It’s been playing on my mind for days now. Everyone else seems to rather like Handel. Everyone else expresses surprise that I don’t. One person suggested I was ignorant, another dismissed my disdain for the composer’s music as evidence of my snobbery. A colleague expressed surprised at me not sharing her passion for Handel’s output indicating our friendship may need to go into a trial phase if I didn’t change my views quickly.

It was also near-impossible an event to avoid today. Everybody seemed to be talking about it. Well, I say everyone. Seemingly “new twitterer on the block” BBC Music Magazine who kicked off the day revealing to the blogosphere that the reviews editor would sing everything from the oratorio in the run up to the main event in the evening. I found it difficult not to respond. And, of course, because I responded I ended up checking Twitter all day long to see what BBC Music Magazine were saying next.

Sadly they’re following me on Twitter so won’t have received my plea. Assuming the reviews editor was allowed out of BBC Music Magazine’s Bristol office, I’m only glad I wasn’t on the same train as him from as he ventured to London for the performance. He and I would surely have come to blows especially if he insisted on cheerily singing every famous tune from the work, assuming I let him on to the train in the first place.

Despite all of this relative bile, there were two key reasons why listening to tonight’s performance was important.

Number one is that I’m having Sunday lunch with a friend of a friend who sang in the performance and I’d like to be reasonably well informed. The conversation will inevitably come around to her contribution to the event. It was a big deal after all her being broadcast live to the UK and 17 other countries across Europe and to the United States. I don’t know many people who’ve had that kind of exposure. I’m bristling with excitement just thinking about it. I couldn’t possibly engage in a reasonably intelligent conversation with her unless I’ve actually listened to the performance.

Reason number two is a growing and genuine desire to gain a deeper understanding of Handel’s music. Why is it, for example, his music leaves me cold? Why do I hate melismatic writing in Handel’s works as much as I do? Why do I like JS Bach but not Handel? And .. perhaps most tantalising of all … could there actually come a point when I “get” Handel and his Messiah? And, assuming I reach that point, will I then gain entry to the special club so many other people have a fully paid membership of ?

Tonight’s performance has achieved what I hoped it might. It’s set me on a bit of a course in pursuit of that deeper understanding. For me, Handel’s work is less something for an audience and more for those who participate in it. Perhaps that in itself explains its popularity amongst choral societies up and down the country.

So supposing, just supposing, it’s more enjoyable to participate in (and I mean the entire two and a half hour oratario, not just a selection of arias) does that mean I need to find a choir to sing in ? Do I need to find a performance of Handel’s Messiah to participate in to get a better grip on whether I like it or not? I shall speak to someone somewhere to see whether I might be able to crowbar my way into some rehearsals for this one.

Be sure to listen to the entire performance given by St James Baroque (part 1) (part 2 & 3) the choir of Westminster Abbey and a collection of (from what I could make out) were very good soloists.

Most enlightening of all however was the interval piece of which former Communards man Richard Coles participated in. It helped fill in a few gaps about the composer, why the Messiah (the work) was important to Handel. It also reassured me that I wasn’t the objectionable human being I thought I was as a result of opinions I have about the composer who died 250 years ago.

Missa \ BBC SO \ Storgards \ Tiensuu \ Kriikku

A cracking concert on Friday 3 April 2009 given by the BBC Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican Hall.

The brass section of the BBC Symphony Orchestra made light work of Magnus Lindberg’s fiendish writing in the UK premiere of his work Ottoni. But it was a performance swiftly eclipsed by the surprisingly fresh rendition of Benjamin Britten’s Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge.  The success of the performance was in no small part to the obvious mastery the string section has attained for bringing the demanding Barbican acoustic alive. Of particular note was sweet sound of the firsts during the fourth variation. Repetition of standard repertoire needn’t be a by-word for dullness, as the string section proved on Friday night.

The real revelation however, was Finnish clarinettist Kari Kriikku’s London premiere of Jukka Tiensuu’s clarinet concerto Missa.

Was it Tiensuu’s concerto or the brilliant Kriikku’s? Sometimes it was difficult to tell for sure. Kriikku’s mastery of the instrument was awe-inspiring, especially a seemingly long sequence in which he effortlessly demonstrated circular breathing and apparent ease delivering all manner of harmonics at the top of the instrument. This was a jaw-droppingly brilliant performance.

But the real orchestral highlight was hearing the puddles of sound created between clarinet soloist and the woodwind section behind him which acoustically transformed the interior of the Barbican into a cathedral like structure by way of the echo effect the orchestration had.

Hear the concert in Performance on 3 on Wednesday 8 April 2009 at 7.00pm and for seven days after broadcast.

Juliette \ BBC SO \ Belohlavek \ Martinu

If Martinu was still alive and I had the opportunity to meet him, I reckon I’d probably quite like him. Just look at a picture of him. He looks like he was a nice kind of sort. I’ve no real idea, of course. To judge someone solely by my emotional response to a photograph of someone is a classic and quite literal illustration of judging a book by a cover. This is not to be encouraged.

However, there’s another reason (equally shallow) I reckon I’d quite like him. The music he wrote made him sound like a good bloke. He understood about music and it’s place. He got the balance right.

I’m basing this on one single concert performance of Martinu’s opera Juliette given by a small but perfectly formed and exquisitely able cast of soloists, the BBC Singers and Symphony Orchestra last night. Given that I went to the Barbican Hall in central London expecting to hear a programme of orchestral work by Milhaud, I can also confirm that attending performances of unknown works by personally unknown composers needs both an element of surprise and an open mind. Those two things alone will guarantee the right mindset.

The friend I was accompanying had already had the presence of mind to do a small amount of research before the performance thus making tackling the ridiculously long queue for the programmes a pointless affair. “Read this,” she said pointing to the synopsis at the bottom of the page.

Michel Lepik, a bookbinder from Paris, is dreaming. Finding himself in a small harbour town he sets out to look for a woman (love interest Juliette) he’s absolutely convinced he met three years before. The only problem is, everyone around him can’t remember anything beyond ten minutes in the past. After a search he finally finds her spends a bit of time trying to persuade her into remembering memories of their time together and then when provoked proceeds to shoot her. He only sees her again when he’s approaching the end of his dream in the “Central Office for Dreams”. The nightwatchmen is encouraging Michel to leave (if he stays past his allotted time he’ll stay forever). Will he stay or go?

“Bonkers, isn’t it?” she said looking back at me. We laughed. It did sound rather odd.

And yet, the moment conductor Jiri Belohlavek struck up his baton, Martinu’s music transfixed. Stunningly effecient in his writing, Martinu’s style was established within the first five minutes of the work. This was cinematic writing, tonal and lush. Great swathes of sound painted with broad brushstrokes designed to compliment the action implicit in the vocal lines of the over-worked soloists.

The action got cracking soon too and despite being sung in French (Martinu was Czech by birth and had originally written the performance in his native tongue later choosing to translate it to French when the Nazi invasion of his homeland in 1939 made the likelihood of further performances in Czechoslovakia extremely low) the audience was guided through the plot by the reassuring presence of a surtitle display at the back of the stage. Without it things would have been very tricky to follow indeed.

As a performance there moments during the first act when the otherwise brilliant William Burden playing the lead role of Michel was drowned by the orchestral sound. But this might well be the only criticism which could be levelled at what had quickly become clear was a hugely engaging dramatic work brought to life by the cast.

Concert performances of opera are perhaps the fairest way of judging too. All too often a composer, his work and the cast will be judged indirectly by the stage production. If the visuals aren’t right then any failings in performance normally overlooked are amplified.

Strip away the stage production to the core requirements – the characters occupying their own individual space on stage with a suggestion of a costume and acting as much as they need to – and attention is focussed on the things which matter: the action and the music. And when audiences are focussed on the action and music, the composer’s has found his short cut to the brain. The audience will be putty in his hand.

Credit must go to the small cast of performers some playing multiple roles in the opera. In opera there’s a judgement to be made on acting as well as singing ability and in this performance it was very difficult to find fault with either in anyone’s contribution. Aside from the glossy perfection of Magdalene Kozena’s Juliette and William Burden’s effortless Michel, Andreas Jaggi’s postman, clerk and police chief were hugely entertaining.

Mention must also go to members of the BBC Singers Olivia Robinson (3rd Man), Margaret Cameron (2nd Man), Michael Bundy (Grandfather) and Lynette Alcantara (Young Sailor) who, frankly, need to be brought to the front of the stage more often. Competent performers with adorable voices.

It is perhaps the fact that I can’t recall much of the music (other than the fact I rather liked it) which speaks the most about Martinu in the final analysis. If a composer can write a score in such a way that the music doesn’t dominate then he’s ticked one very big important box. Clearly Martinu had a realistic understanding how important he was. I do admire that character trait in an individual.

Broadcast information

BBC Radio 3 broadcasts a recording of this performance on Tuesday 31 March at 6.30pm. The broadcast will be available for a further seven days.

Cast (in order of appearance)
Michel William Burden tenor
Little Arab/1st Man/Bellhop Anna Stephany mezzo-soprano
Old Arab/Old Sailor Zdenek Plech bass
Bird-Seller/Fortune-Teller Rosalind Plowright mezzo-soprano
Fish-Seller/Grandmother/Old Lady Jean Rigby mezzo-soprano
Man in Chapska/Father Youth/Convict Frederic Goncalves bass
Man in Hat/Seller of Memories/Blind Beggar/Nightwatchman Roderick Williams baritone
Police Chief/Postman/Clerk Andreas Jaggi tenor
Juliette Magdalena Kozena mezzo-soprano
3rd Man Margaret Cameron mezzo-soprano
2nd Man Olivia Robinson mezzo-soprano
Grandfather Michael Bundy baritone
Young Sailor Lynette Alcantara mezzo-soprano

TV: Graham Norton Show (5.4 26 March 2009)

A heart throb apparently, originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good.

Graham’s number one guest for this episode was the instantly forgettable yet apparently adorable Zac Efron.

Efron certainly whipped up the audience. God only knows why. He certainly failed to make an impact in South East London. Better luck next time mister.

Little Britain star David Walliams demonstrated his obviously ease on Norton’s sofa, relaxing even more when recent Brits award winners Pet Shops Boys Neil Tenant and Chris Lowe stepped onto stage ahead of a “performance” of their latest single Love Is.

Norton’s blossomed just recently, proving he’s the belle of the ball. Nice to see.

I’m still not absolutely clear who or how important Zac Efron is. Did he deserve the cheers? I suspect not. The Pet Shop Boys studio performance reinforced how they’re better studio performers than TV acts. Nice to seem them engaging in a spot of banter with Walliams and Norton nonetheless.

Music: Mother of all funk chords

Roll-up for the most sickeningly brilliant piece of You Tube stuff I’ve seen in ages. A mashup of various videos across the network culminating in a fresh piece of funk to blow away the cobwebs with sniff of warm summer evenings and beer on tap. 

Bring on the summer. 

Homesick for East Anglia

At the time of posting this 245,000 had seen this video already which almost certainly means most people who find themselves reading this post will have seen it already.

Admittedly this mash-up of Estelle’s American Boy with a regional spin may not necessarily flick the “funny” switch if you haven’t spent any time in the great East Anglia.

Even so, watching this has reminded me I ought to ring my parents who will almost share mine and the video’s take on Thetford and its occupants.

U2’s considerable triumph

I hate U2 and I like Bono even less.

I’m one of those sorts of people who will start foaming at the mouth when I see the man in a picture. You may also like to know that I also run a very high risk of bursting a handful of blood vessels if I see him open his mouth and hear him talk. I didn’t get (and still don’t) understand anyone who get’s excited by their music. Even a casual listen to their music leaves me wondering what the fuss is about. But more tiresome than any of that : One of the band members is called “The Edge”, for God’s sake. The words ‘pretentious’ and ‘idiots’ spring to mind?

And yet, something weird has happened this weekend. Given my limited knowledge and even less desire to research the topic fully for something approximating a reasonably interesting blog post, I appear to have made a discovery. 

U2 are everywhere with their new album New Line On The Horizon. That might be one of the reasons I responded to a Radio 2 web producer on Facebook when I read his status message noting Adam and Joe’s mild slagging-off of U2 in their 6 Music show with the very real feeling : “Jon wonders whether U2 stayed on the roof of Broadcasting House last night and, if they didn’t, perhaps they ought to have done.”

Of course, if you’ve been on some kind of alcohol-fuelled bender for all of Friday you will be blissfully unaware that U2 descended on the BBC’s Broadcasting House yesterday, playing in the Radio Theatre at around lunchtime, doing an interview with Chris Evans later in the day before hopping around like the middle-aged rockers they really are (I’ve not watched the resulting video but I bet Bono’s wearing those damn sunglasses despite it being dark) on the roof overlooking 750 fans cramming Regent Street below. (I bet their view was a little restricted. Shame. My heart bleeds.)

Pictures abound of the event and a spot of mobile video from Flickr user and BBC-Audio-and-Music-technology-blokey-who-I-need-pay- back-for-a-coffee-he-bought me FatController.

Not only that, U2 have been on most music related outlets I know of (predictably most of these are BBC things) including The Culture Show (there were moments when I found Bono to be at his most irritating) and Radio 4’s Front Row – don’t be surprised like I was to discover that the interviews contain pretty much the same responses in both programmes.

U2 even have their own BBC website featuring all the exclusive content the Corporation’s Audio and Music department has produced. With my pseudo-geek multiplatform webbie type hat on, I can confirm it’s a tasty design and a well executed web offering. It feels right for the event. It ticks all the right boxes any web producer has to face on a daily basis at the BBC. It is, in short, the kind of project I wished I’d worked on despite the fact that I loathe U2. Most pertinent of all is that the website shows the way in which BBC websites should (and I think I’m right in saying will go) in pulling together relevant content from right across different networks into one easy to absorb “topic” based site. You might want to speak to someone more senior for a more official statement on this. 

With all that in mind, I have to report that my initial feelings about U2 may well be changing given the band’s now obvious masterstroke.

I first saw their new album advertised on the Tube journey to work. I found it difficult to resist taking a picture. “Oh, it’s them” I thought. “Marvellous. I bet we’ll be hearing a lot of them in the next few weeks. Might be interesting to follow that little process.” Even if you’re reading that cold it might be worth me stressing I was rolling my eyes and generally sneering about the whole thing. (For further evidence please see the opening gambit of this post .. many thanks.)

Now I’ve finished what amounts to my usual regular Saturday afternoon doze and log on to Spotify (for the first time since I got my login set up) I discover the entire album is being promoted on the new music service. Seeing as everyone else is talking about them (at least it seems that way), I’d better listen to the album. In the interests of research, lets see if I hate the music on the new album as much as my gut reaction to Bono and his stupid glasses and even more irritating viewpoints on various global issues (with particular emphasis on climate change).

The answer is .. I quite like the album. In fact, I really like the album. If this is U2 (and really – I know it’s a sad thing to confess – but really, I’ve never made a point of listening to their stuff before – it’s always been white noise) then maybe they’re not quite so bad after all. I might even download the album or .. who knows .. buy it on CD. Actually, I might go as far as to say .. well done them. 

And what did it take? A massive PR effort involving a global broadcaster, various print media outlets, advertising sold all over the internet and a deal with new belle-of-the-internet-ball Spotify. It must have cost them a fortune.  Still, at least they can count me as a new convert. I bet they’ll be delighted with that.

Vita Nuova \ LPO \ Jurowski \ Martynov

It was an opera, originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good.

In theory, world premieres of anything must surely come with a selection of must-haves including an incomprehensible sound listened to by a confused audience engaging in an internal dialogue about the cost of their ticket, their proximity to the exit and the time of the next train home.

Tonight’s world premiere of Vladimir Martynov’s Vita Nuova (New Life) at London’s Royal Festival Hall might have contained all of these things. One member of the audience was seen walking swiftly out of the auditorium part way through the first half.

The majority of the audience remained throughout the entire performance however, despite what might have seemed on paper at least as an evening of challenging and impenetrable music. After all, if you know you’re going to listen to some new music by a relatively unheard of Russian composer who has in his past explored the avant-garde and serial technique, you’re going to make certain assumptions before you get to the concert hall.

In fairness, there had been a reasonable amount of explanation of Martynov’s musical influences and his intentions for the composition of his opera before the event. It certainly felt like that. But maybe I was just homing in on all the information I could find about the work before I attended it. I do like to go prepared if I’m about to hear something for the first time.

On Thursday 13 February, two days before the assembled company of the London Philharmonic Orchestra, soloists and Europachoraakademie began rehearsing for tonight’s performance, conductor Vladimir Jurowski hedged his bets on what the audience reaction might be in an interview with Tom Service for the Guardian

“ … to be honest, it could end up being a total misunderstanding – or the beginning of a very interesting discussion … Some people will find it confusing, even disgusting. Others, I am sure, will find this piece a revelation.”

It’s difficult to know how anyone would have been disgusted by the work or the performance. Confusion too was unlikely to be on the cards following Jurowski’s pre-performance talk during which a great deal of time given over to defending Martynov’s plundering of musical styles. The work was described by the host of the event as “user-friendly” with “plenty of melodies”. But it was the broad selection of musical influences imitated in nearly all (except for two chords) which Jurwoski explained was a deliberate on the part of the composer.

For Martynov, the second world war marked the end of an era of composing. Traditionally composed music of that which the European tradition had become accustomed to was now at an end. There was nothing more to write. Composers now turned to different compositional techniques as a way of trying to come to terms with what to do next.

Put like that, Martynov’s Vita Nuova was a work which documented the true period of composing, drawing on the works and styles of the past and combining them in a work which set out to make “music about music” combining plainchant, operatic recitative and traditional operatic styles.

Thus Martynov’s setting of Dante’s work La Vita Nuova shaped up to be more of a pragmatic (or possibly shameless) attempt at pulling in audience rather than the potentially powerful statement or call to action Jurowski claimed it might be in his Guardian interview.

One question remained. Was it really an opera ? Jurowski went to great lengths to point out that Martynov’s use of the word (it appeared on the front page of the score titled as an opera) was more a reference to the original meaning of the word – “the work” – than a literal reference conjuring up the kind of opera performances most audiences are accustomed to. .

The finer points of the conductor’s definition were somewhat lost come the performance, however. The use of Dante’s work, with a strong narrative set to music, executed by soloists, chorus and orchestra had all the hallmarks of opera. This combined with subtle stage lighting and a sedately choreographed chorus made the definition undeniably traditional. To all intents and purposes this was opera. Certainly no misunderstanding there.

Even if the resulting mish-mash of musical styles made it sometimes feel like a wander through a musical museum, Martynov may still have achieved something really quite impressive. The Festival Hall saw an impressive box office for tonight’s world premiere. The music was accessible, the story easy to follow and the stage visually engaging despite the cut-down drama of a concert performance.

Even without surtitles or a programme, it wouldn’t have taken much to follow what was going on. There may have been times when a spot of editing might have been in order (especially from the second half of Act 3 onwards) but the vocal work in the soloists, in particular Mark Padmore ensured attention remained squarely on the stage.

Its rich mix of musical styles combined with its simple yet effective staging opportunities make this an opera which has the potential of making anyone setting foot in the concert hall for the first time feel welcome and at ease. And for those of us who haven’t read Dante before, the prospect doesn’t seem anywhere near as daunting as it did before the performance.

Other members of the audience had a slightly different experience. Times Online reviewer Richard Morrison was scathing, Intermezzo seemed less than impressed in the work being “not so new after all” whilst Tweeter @helenium experienced “absolute weirdness, helped along by paedophilia, death and disease”.

La Boheme / ENO / Sky / Jonathan Miller

La Boheme / ENO / Sky / Jonathan Miller, originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good.

Opera is on the offensive thanks to a blossoming and mutual beneficial relationship between Sky Arts and English National Opera as demonstrated in a live TV event brimming with firsts.

Delayed 48 hours because of London’s heavy snow earlier in the week, opera loving Sky subscribers were able to indulge in a live relay of the opening night of Jonathan Miller’s production of Puccini’s La Boheme, direct from the Coliseum stage in Central London.

Those of us who splashed out on an HD subscription and TV had the added bonus of seeing everything pin sharp too. Opera novices had the option of seeing a separate behind the scenes relay on Sky Arts 1. Shots from the wings, chorus members wandering around backstage and one or two glimpses of the director Jonathan Miller talking to members of the cast. There was something here for everyone.

It was an unexpected indulgence, made even more special because it was mid-week. Such high-brow entertainment surely sits more comfortably on a Saturday night, doesn’t it? For it to be broadcast on a Saturday night would have meant the performance would have been filmed. Those live TV junkies amongst us would have snorted with derision if that had happened. We like our performances live. If we’d wanted a recorded one, we’d have bought a DVD and we certainly wouldn’t be blogging about it if we had.

I’m not an opera fan. I don’t understand it. I recognise the composer’s names and hear the titles of popular operatic works and think I ought to know them. Opera seems like a huge mountain to climb. Something I ought to pay attention to, but am put off by the seemingly considerable commitment.

What makes the difference is a 50” screen, a large glass of red wine, a faultless orchestral performance and some obvious joined-up thinking in terms of broadcasting.

Petroc Trelawney (yes him, the bloke who used to do stuff on Classic FM and now presents BBC Radio 3’s In Tune from time to time) did the front of house stuff from the auditorium interviewing librettist Amanda Holden and director Jonathan Miller. Trelawney was engaging and in no way obtrusive. For the record, Jonathan Miller could have delayed the start of the second half. The man doesn’t get anywhere near enough air-time (assuming he wants it). The man could talk for hours and I wouldn’t bore of hearing him.

Over on Sky Arts 1 Trelawney’s cohort GMTV presenter Penny Smith ferreted around backstage talking to a petrified looking and rather subdued Alfie Boe, coercing interesting titbits about the trials and tribulations of life on an opera production.

I felt comfortable in the company of both her and Mr Trelawney and, surprisingly, didn’t feel as though seeing backstage was shattering the fantasy being created on stage.

To talk about the performance would overlook the importance of this evening. The broadcast was about demonstrating the possibilities of transmitting perceived high-brow entertainment to the masses. For someone who possesses a pompously critical eye for such things, this evening’s performance and broadcast was executed effortlessly. Would it persuade me to book a ticket to the opera? Yes, if it was the chance to see Miller’s production of La Boheme at the Coliseum.

Some might argue that the performers could sing anything, in any key with only scant attention to rhythm and intonation and it still would have been a special occasion.

As a relative newcomer to large scale opera I found myself marvelling at a stylish set and costume design and transfixed by soloists who looked good, sounded brilliant and acted utterly convincing. They held up well on HDTV.

Sweet.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #10

Quite a horrific day preparing for what I fear could be a car crash of an evening. I do so hope I’m not disappointed when the final result is in and we learn exactly who will be singing the Andrew Lloyd-Webber/Diane Warren ditty “My Time”? Jade? Mark? The Twins?

Whilst the outcome is a little difficult to predict, there’s one thing I’m definitely looking forward to. In a couple of weeks time we’ll have our usually decent internet connection back and from then on the stuff I upload to t’interweb won’t look anywhere near as shitty as it does at present.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #6

 

I’ve been doing quite a bit of thinking about Heat One of Your Country Needs You.

Inevitably, I have committed these thoughts to a video. I would urge you to watch this and endeavour to incorporate the suggestions I have offered in the remaining weeks of Your Country Needs You.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #5

Quite an odd night. Shortly after the beginning of YCNY, college pal Becky rings me. It’s always lovely when chat together and we haven’t done that for a long time.

“Is now a good time ?” she asked.

“No. Not really. It’s the first Eurovision thing. Your timing is appalling.”

“Oh. God. I’m sorry. How could I have known?”

“Well, you could have looked in the schedule.”

I did call the lovely Becky at 9.00pm. A fantastic chat which was mercifully minus any reference to Eurovision.

Normal life has resumed now that the first heat of Your Country Needs You is over and in case you didn’t watch or you don’t want to sit through the hour long programme on BBC iPlayer (actually – you might as well, it’s really rather good) then the important information you need to know is …

The two acts who were placed in the “Danger Zone” – ie the one which sees Andrew Lloyd Webber standing in between both acts looking all pensive and saying “this is really tough but I have to decide which one of you two to save” – were Damien and Charlotte.

The Great Lord saved Charlotte, surprisingly, which means we won’t be seeing Damien’s chiselled jaw on prime-time Saturday night TV (at least, not for the forseeable future). Shame. He did look smashing in a purple open-collar shirt and natty single-breasted suit, I thought.

Oh … and one jury in South East London arrived at their decision about who to vote for this evening using this very handy aide memoir.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #4

Following what appears to have been a rather successful first rehearsal for Your Country Needs You as reported by Michael Osborn, I have completed extensive preparations in advance of the first live show to select the artist to represent the UK at Eurovision 2009.

Diary: Your Country Needs You # 3

I’ve spent some time with some Eurovision fans this evening. The subject of Graham Norton did come up. I kept my cool at all times.

I wouldn’t call myself a Norton fan, more a staunched supporter. I keep an eye out for what The Norton does and make appropriate notes in my special notebook which no-one will ever see, ever.

This may have something to do with the fact that I had a bit of fun doing  some work experience on The Graham Norton Show. Hardly surprising some might consider me a bit biassed. It was great.

If me being biassed is truly justified it might have more to do with me feeling flushed with excitement when me and a friend passed him in reception at work one day. As I recall, Mr Norton turned back to look at us and then said to me, “Hello. How are you?” It’s important to stress he directed that at me and not my friend. As I say, I was very excited by this. A celebrity recognised me. Lovely.

More importantly and more related to Eurovision is Mr Norton’s appearance in G2 today. Like a similar interview which appeared in the Guardian’s Weekend a few years ago is how he comes across in a positive light. He seems like a normal bloke. I like that.

I like it because I think Mr Norton has the toughest of all jobs. He’s having to fill the shoes of a man who was the voice of a television programme I did have a very close eye on. It’s the big one. It’s the big job.

 Given that I’ve ended up feeling the same as a result of reading two interviews published over a few years, this is one Eurovision hawk who’s feeling quite confident.

Elsewhere, our Lord and Saviour Andrew Lloyd Webber has been talking his way through his project plan for the next 18 months.

1. Eurovision 2009   Good man. Well done. Good to see you’ve got your eyes on the first deadline.

2. Phantom of the Opera sequel  Launching in October 2009 (I think – listen for yourself) across continents at the same time. (Again, go check for yourself.)

3. Next year’s “BBC Casting Show”   … will be looking to find stars for a production of The Wizard of Oz. Brilliant. At last. I’ve got my application in already. I reckon I’d make a brilliant Dorothy.

So, if Andrew Lloyd Webber is in a casting show year next summer, do we  do we need an Andrew Lloyd Webber version 2.0 for Eurovision 2010? *

* Is this a Eurovision 2010 scoop?

Diary: Your Country Needs You #2

The morning after any Eurovision event is the worst time of all. There’s a mixture of relief that it’s all over and the inevitable post-match analysis followed by the bitter recriminations.

Bizarrely, I’m feeling the same way now, the morning after the first Your Country Needs You? Last night’s show was only the preview to the main selection event. There’s months to go before that post-Eurovision negativity I loathe. Still, for some of us Eurovision fans, we sat glued to our TV screens, assessing everything and (I’m speaking for myself here) getting excited even though perhaps we know we shouldn’t.

At the end of last night’s show us Eurovision fans who sat glued to the TV screen analysing everything were presented with six acts including identical twins Francine and Nicola, Emperors of Soul, teenage singer Charlotte, Jade (not Goodey), Damien and Mark.

I was excited at the end of it, buzzing with hopefulness. Mind you, I’ve never predicted a winner and always voted for the song I like. I figured I’d trawl the internet to see what a few others thought of it.

Chris Higgins at www.chig.blogspot.com seemed a little down on the competitors with a doctored image of the main Eurovision homepage promo (the Eurovision stormtroopers have been dispatched although I understand they’re not looking for Chris necessarily). His assessment is surpassed by thecustard.tv review with a scathing tagline reading “The TV blog that ranks … Your Country Needs You among the worst Saturday night BBC1 shows of all time.”

Ewan Spence provided some personal responses to the acts he saw on the show – he seems quite up on Damien and Mark.

The Schlagerboys seem like they can’t wait (either that or they want a job at the BBC), making it quite clear who they’re backing …

The whole show was completely schlagertastic and fabulous. The Schlagerboys aren’t that bothered who gets to sing the song in the end, as long as it’s Jade. 2009 is clearly going to be the UK’s year! It’s Birmingham 2010 all the way! Hurrah!

http://schlagerblog.blogspot.com/2009/01/your-country-needs-schlagerboys.html

And also, according to the Schlagerboys,

“they’ve [ the BBC ] even hired a behind-the-scenes blogger who clearly knows his Eurovision and isn’t going to run the contest down for the next five months.“

That behind-the-scenes blogger – Mark Cook from the Guardian – writes on Andrew Lloyd Webber’s site …

“Even if we don‘t win, this will at least restore some musical pride for the country that gave the world The Beatles and send a message to the rest of Europe that we are taking this most treasured of musical institutions more seriously.“

Let’s hope so. Quite a challenge ahead of us then over the next few weeks.