First Love

Today

What an evening! Last night I went to the Colston Hall to hear a performance of Monteverdi's L'Orfeo by the Baroque Soloists and Monteverdi Choir under John Elliott Gardner. It was semi-staged but this did not reduce the drama and quality of singing. Nor did the fact that there was no interval and we sat in our seats for two and a half hours.

"Ravishing!" I enthused "I felt Orfeo's pain. Best opera ever written!"

In My Day

As readers of this blog will know, I've been a fan of early music since my teens. When I was a student of theatre design at the West Susses College of Design in Worthing, we were asked to design costumes for Orfeo.

We were given a choice of Gluck's Orfeo ed Eurydice or Monteverdi's L'Orfeo. No contest! Alone in my group I chose the Monteverdi and splashed out on a vinyl boxed set of a very superior performance. I designed elaborate costumes, basing them on the sort of art used in the 17th century. I provided for Deus ex Machina moments (I don't think I got as far as working out the actual mechanics).

I've no idea what happened to those designs; another lost something from my life, but I listened to the music again and again. Orfeo's plea to Charon would melt the stoniest heart, I thought. Here it is:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYqF3TTaZcc

When I read that this was the first fully composed opera I was amazed and almost wondered why anyone would dare to follow it.

I've seen it several times since; once by Kent Opera in Eastbourne and once at the Theatre Royal Bath - a strange realisation that almost eclipsed the music.

But not quite; I still respond to this story in music of joy, pain and hope as though it was my first time of hearing. And, among, opera, it's still my first love.

Screwed

Today

If we'd thought about it a little more, maybe we wouldn't have chosen to travel home from Essex on the Friday of the bank holiday weekend.

Everyone was streaming out of London, many heading for the Isle of Wight or the West country. As we joined to M3 we saw a number of cars broken down - radiators steaming, bonnets up, people perched just beyond the barriers awaiting rescue. There seemed to be even more on the A303.

"How depressing", I remarked "there you are, all packed up for your holiday, kids in the back, bikes on the roof, sun's shining, and you've broken down. Not a good start."

In My Day

I remember how important it was, that vital break from work, when you could get away from toil for a week. In 1977, I was very pregnant with Becky and we had decided to take a week's camping in Wales. This was the Queen's silver jubilee and she had declared an extra holiday, which effectively meant that all shops were shut from Saturday evening until Wednesday morning.

On Saturday night we loaded the car up with tents and clothing and planned to leave at about one in the morning so that Lizzie would sleep through. After supper Paul went out to check a few last minute bits and pieces. He came back with a very long face.

"There's a problem", he said. "we have a puncture and I have no  decent spare and no safe jacking points."

I behaved the way all pregnant women regard as their right: I burst into hysterical tears and reminded Paul that it was now too late to do anything about it until Wednesday and we might as well abandon our holiday altogether and my life was completely ruined.

Paul went back to the car and came back ta bit later. "I have a plan", he said "The cause of the puncture was a nail which I've removed and I've screwed an enormous brass screw into the hole and pumped up the tyre. If it's lost no pressure by the time we are due to leave, we'll chance it.

Which we did. He drove fairly gingerly and that morning we arrive at our campsite, with the tyre having lost 2lbs. We pitched our tent and set about having a good time, despite the lashing rain.

When Wednesday arrived we drove into the nearest town and found a car repair garage. Paul spoke to owner, "We seem to have a slow puncture; could you take a look, please?" The mechanic removed the tyre and soon returned, guffawing with laughter and brandishing the screw. "You wouldn't have got far with that!" he chortled. We kept quiet and, not only did he replace the tyre, but found two wheels, complete with tyres,  that he let us have for a fiver. Without Paul's ingenuity, the holiday would have been well screwed

All of which give a whole new meaning to the expression Keep Calm and Carry on. 

Spiritual

Today

At the moment I am immersed in preparations for our next concert, which will be based on American themes, including "I Got Rhythm" and a range of American Spiritual settings.

Among them is a setting of "Steal Away" from Michael Tippett's "A Child of our Time". I find myself suffused with the longing, despair and fearful hope of the music. "Steal away to Jesus, steal away home. I ain't got long to stay here"

In My Day

I think that these songs were called "Negro Spirituals" when I was a child and the first one I encountered was "Swanee River" which would have been in our News Chronicle Song Book.  Daddy would explain that the song was about the ending of slavery when the slaves became effectively homeless, although the tune always seemed a little jaunty. I almost had an idea that the ending of Slavery in America was a bad thing; that was until I became more aware. I used to sing this song at home and at school without much thought.

(Actually, Daddy was wrong, this song was written in 1851 when slavery was still legal) 

Later, in a number of choirs, I sang settings of bible stories "Li'l David Play on yo' Harp" and, even worse, "Joshua Fit de Battle ob Jericho". These were all arrangements by white Western  musicians and somehow we had to sing this approximation of plantation black patois. The songs seemed to me then and now, a failure, in terms of capturing the  passionate adoption of Christianity by the slaves as their only hope, and thoroughly patronising. And it's a rare white western choir that can make much sense of these pieces.

The Tippett settings are so different, and seem both respectful and relevant to today.

What is depressing is that nothing has changed; people are being bullied and oppressed all over the world and it's no wonder that so many believe in a religion that can offer them a future when this life doesn't.