A sociological feast

These days I spend a lot of time thinking, reading and talking about the same things: schools, homes (and their value), country vs city, stay-at-home vs working (mums), career advancement vs work-life balance. I explore these issues mostly with the same sorts of people in the same sorts of environments. This is fine, most of the time, but one of the things that I’m starting to love about playing in an orchestra is that is, once a week, my social interactions become significantly more colourful and varied.

At last week’s rehearsal I was sitting within a foot or so of: a chirpy 20-something trombone player who works in the music industry, lives with his parents and has played in a plethora of ensembles and bands; a sweet, solemn Greek music student, quietly heartbroken about the economic collapse of his homeland; a Swiss banker in his 40s, licking the orchestra’s admin into shape with good-humoured efficiency; a quiet, warm stay-at-home mum to six children, starting to make time for her own interests after 30 years of child-rearing; a male cellist wearing one of a seemingly endless collection of glorious, flamboyant dresses. There are photographers, chemists, lawyers, singers, writers, publicists. I wouldn’t go as far as to say all humanity is there – the vibe is unmistakably middle class – but I can’t think of many other places where you would find so many different ages, nationalities and professions collaborating so enthusiastically. And, having stuck around for a quick pint after last week’s rehearsal, I’m confident it’ll make for some interesting pub trips too.

Mini musicians


Little and large

This week is a big week for my daughter for several reasons, one of which is that she will play her first notes on the viola. She’s been attending Suzuki classes since the beginning of January and each week brings one private lesson (shared with another little girl), one group viola lesson, and one musicianship group. Quite a lot of lessons, so why, you might be wondering, has she not played a note yet? Half-way through the last lesson it all became blissfully clear.

She and her lesson partner are now handling their violas and bows comfortably, landing the correct part of the bow on the string, and then taking it off again. They’ve been told if their positioning is perfect next week they’ll be able to start playing. The two of them stood side-by-side, violas in position, teeny tiny bows resting on strings, quivering with barely contained excitement and exchanging conspiratorial glances. My daughter moved her bow a cm on her A-string and swung around wide-eyed to see my reaction.  And suddenly, I could see all the benefits of the protracted process. It’s obviously important that they get the basics right from the start – and in the meantime, they’re also learning rhythms, getting to know the parts of the instrument and watching others play – but it has the desirable side-effect of building their anticipation to dizzying heights.

Watching two four-year-olds wriggle and giggle in their little chairs made me realise I could learn a lot from their attitude to music. The novelty of just making a sound with the instrument is still fresh and exciting to them, and it’s very sweet to watch.

Mussorgsky revisited

Until Wednesday night, I had quite mixed feelings towards Mussorgsky‘s A Night on the Bare Mountain (or Night on Bald Mountain?). There was a depressing incident at primary school when a supply teacher asked us to listen to it and write a piece of creative writing based on what it inspired in us. It didn’t stir up anything other than bored feelings in my 8-year-old self, so my essay was pretty dismal and I got called into the headteacher’s office and quizzed about why I’d only written three lines in the hour or so that we’d been given.

Parmigianino's 'Witches' Sabbath'

Later on it was one of my set study pieces for music GCSE. I quite enjoyed the graphic textbook illustrations of nefarious activities at the witches’ sabbath but again, didn’t feel especially moved by it. I’ve heard it countless times since on the radio and sometimes hummed along absent-mindedly but never consciously sought it out to listen to.

Then, on Wednesday night, this term’s orchestra rehearsals began and we had our first crack at it. And it was terrifically exciting – I couldn’t believe I hadn’t ever ‘noticed’ it properly before. I was swept along by the story and had a real sense of the individual roles of each group of instruments in the narrative. As a viola you’re right at the centre of it all, and it’s a lovely place to be.

 

‘SING, SING, SING…’ and other ways to introduce children to music

Gerry Mannion knows a thing or two about how to get very young children singing. Almost 20 years ago, she set up Tick Tock, a music group for under-5s in Islington, London. It’s run by professionally trained actors and singers and has been a rip-roaring success – there are now branches all over London and beyond. There’s a big element of performance to each session: the team of three perform a new routine every week and it generally involves several instruments, half a dozen costume changes and an eclectic repertoire of songs from ‘Old King Cole’ and ‘Wind the bobbin up’ to ‘Feed the birds’ and ‘All the nice girls love a sailor’. We’ve been going along for three years and in that time I’ve seen cartwheels, robotic dancing, and some surprisingly convincing animal impressions – the energy of the team is something to behold.

I asked Gerry some questions about children and music. And this is what she said:

What can music, song and rhyme do for very young children?
Listening to music can transport you to another place immediately. In the early years, singing and playing music help to develop your child’s listening skills. The repetition of songs and nursery rhymes increases their vocabulary but also helps them to think imaginatively and sensitively, while different sounds and rhythms encourage musicality and song identification. And of course, it’s so much fun!

What do they get from attending music groups?
A sense of belonging and making music together; enjoying and engaging in role play and gaining confidence with encouragement from the group; learning awareness of others, how to participate as part of a group and understand the role they can play as individuals.

And if they seem reluctant to join in?
Remain positive and respect their decision on what they want to be involved with. If they sit and listen and watch, then they are absorbing it and will probably talk about it or certainly return to it during the week. We will always gently encourage the quieter members to engage. If your child seems unresponsive don’t worry, sometimes songs and rhymes are repeated, sung and enjoyed months later.

What can you do at home to encourage them to develop an interest in music?
Play lots of music, anything you like from pop to classical, and talk about the instruments and how the music makes them feel. Make your own instruments using saucepan lids and wooden spoons and rice and beans in jars. Have a music box to keep instruments in. Encourage them to sing and play percussion and tap out rhythms. And SING, SING, SING to your child. Make up your own songs about getting dressed, having breakfast, walking down the street, anything!

What do you like most about what you do?
The children: watching them week by week grow in confidence and musicality, seeing their imaginations grow and developing as little people. Over the years we’ve have had incredible feedback on how the sessions have inspired and initiated a love of music and drama, which has led to enjoyment and success in playing of an instrument and in some cases some fulfilling careers in the arts.

 

 

Beautiful stuff, rosin

This is first block of rosin I bought as an adult:

Rosin, for the uninitiated, is the stuff that string players rub on their bow hair to help it grip the strings. See how it gleams. Isn’t it lovely? The sight of it, like the familiar smell of my viola when I first reopened the case, brought back so many memories. I get a great deal of satisfaction from flicking open the metal claps of my case, pushing back the lid, grabbing my viola by the neck, attaching my shoulder rest, tightening my bow, and finally, putting some rosin on. There is so much pleasure in these little rituals.