I've been playing the violin.
The Emperor Waltz.
All right, 'playing' is a bit of an exaggeration,
but I plied the bow, I sawed about a bit on open strings, under the
guidance of a personal helper,
and heard something almost tuneful in my left ear. I was reluctant, at
first, to get involved. I'm cloth-eared, if not actually tone-deaf (a
far more rare condition I am assured, than most of us imagine), and was
appalled
by the idea of making a public spectacle of myself. But people were so
persuasive, so supportive, and it had been so long since anyone proposed
making beautiful music: in the end, I just couldn't say no.
It was a Saturday evening in the crypt of St George-in-the East - a
handsome Hawksmoor church off the Highway at Wapping, east London
- at the close
of a concert to mark the end of another term for the East London Late
Starters' Orchestra. This had been not so much the triumphant display
of a year's
achievement, as a jubilant celebration of months of earnest endeavour,
and yet, for all its lack of pretensions, it wasn't half bad.
ELLSO is not the most professional orchestra in Britain, but it is
seriously fun. After the concert proper, anyone from the audience
could choose
an instrument - violin, viola, cello - and have a bash. Then the
whole ensemble
launched into the waltz, and the new recruits were free to string
along.
The orchestra, now in its eighteenth year, grew out of an initiative
by Tower Hamlets Council to give all children in the borough the
opportunity to
make music. 'I shall never forget the day my daughter Kate came
home with a cello,' ELLSO's founder and father of two, Chris Shurety,
told me. 'She
was seven years old, she was so pleased, and what was wonderful
was
that
she hadn't been singled out, the whole class had been given the
chance to have either a violin or a cello. They'd had a couple of
teachers
come in and play these instruments, then they said, 'Who wants
one?' Everyone
put up their hands, and they were each given one to take home.
Music-making was treated as a core curriculum subject, it was seen
as central
to the children's education, and, as a parent, I found it joyful
to see
it all
happening.'
Since that time dozens if not hundreds of adults have felt the
same thrill at handling these beautiful instruments, many of
them for
the first time
in their lives. And for most, it comes as a revelation that they,
too, can learn to play. It's never too late, and there is nothing,
unless
their own inhibitions, to prevent them.
The idea was appropriated after the council set up a Saturday
centre for the best and most motivated pupils, and invited
mums and dads
to drop in
for a one-hour sample lesson. 'This was not with a view to
getting something going among us lot,' said Chris Shurety, 'just
to give
us a better understanding
of what the children were doing. But we went in there, and
for me that was it. I had a preliminary lesson on the cello, and
I thought,
'This
is amazing! I could learn to play these instruments!' He was,
then, among the first, but by no means the last to experience
the ELLSO
epiphany. Time
and again I heard his sentiments echoed: 'It was just such
an incredible moment.'
ELLSO is all about removing barriers, providing access to music
in a friendly, non-competitive environment, for people of
mixed abilities,
of all ages
and social backgrounds. It is non-elitist and non-hierarchical,
fees are based on disposable income, and the absolute beginner,
happening
in, will
be handed an instrument and given a brief tutorial, before
being invited to play with the ensemble.
'Everyone', according to the orchestra's founding principle,
'has the ability to make music.' But, of course, they have
to practise,
and
the 60-plus
members, from Stage 1 (beginners), through Stage 2 (medium),
to Stage 3 (advanced), do so assiduously, every Saturday
morning, some travelling
from as far afield as Colchester, Brighton and Bognor Regis.
Then,
so eager
are many of them, that they also get together in the week
for group practice, or have private tuition, or attend
workshops and summer
schools. It's
something they do for themselves, they say, for the personal
satisfaction, the social
contact, and for the confidence that flows from it. It
is a
very important part of their lives.
On the morning of the concert, at rehearsals, adrenalin
was running high. But there was a strong undercurrent
of levity,
the church
rang with laughter.
St George-in-the-East was consecrated in 1729, bombed
in the Second World War, rebuilt in 1964. The orchestra has
made its
home here
for the past
three years, since it was priced out of the schools where
it had its beginnings. It's an ideal base for the East
End centred
orchestra.
Thus at 9.30 on the Big Day, in the crypt you could hear
an up-beat rendering of La Cumpersita (Fernando's Hideaway
to
you and me)
by Stages 2 and
3, while elsewhere beginners had technique sessions.
Then the better players
got together with the starter-outers for Handel's Water
Music, while Stage 2 took themselves off to brush up
on technique.
In a small room behind the kitchen, tutor Nick Coote
took his cello class, Stages 2 and 3, through Dido's
Lament
by Purcell. 'I think
we should get
softer towards the end, because she's dying,' Nick
says. 'The other thing that would be really nice
is if at the
beginning we could
get a really
longing feel, da-daa-daa daaa, really lean on that
note, then
diminuendo away.'
Even as Dido plunged the kife into her heart and
threw herself upon the funeral pyre, young tutor
Gavin Davies
took Stage
2 violins in
the church,
and next door Liz Bell coached first-stagers.
In the crypt, Polish Piotr Jordan conducted an
ensemble, springing on his toes as he exhorted
the players
to ever greater effort.
'As little
bow
as possible... even on the loud bits you need
much less bow... ladies and gentlemen, if we start loud,
we cannot
do a crescendo,
so we
start quietly.
Much better! Exaggerate the dynamism: when loud,
really loud; when quiet, really quiet; see how
quiet you can
sustain it.
I know you
can do it.
You know you can do it. Ye-es!' He almost took
flight.
At 11.20 refreshments were dispensed, a little
behind schedule. It was a very chummy time,
with everyone
relaxed and chatting.
'Anybody
coming
to France?' Sally Haywill, a mother of three,
who teaches English as a second language, issued
an
open invitation.
One of the
newer members,
she
had been so taken by the whole ELLSO ethos
that she had organised a week away for anyone who
wanted to
come along
for days
of uninterrupted practice.
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She vividly recalled first being let loose on a violin: 'I couldn't
believe it. It was as though someone had opened a door when I didn't
think I was allowed in. Oh yes, I'm making progress. I can't tell you
what the notes are, but I can go up and down on the violin, and make
a tune, and play with other people. On the first day I played, I was
so high with it, I just couldn't sleep that night. It's wonderful having
access to music. I listen to a lot more of it now, I go to concerts,
it's like a whole new world's opened up. And my children are getting
involved. Music has become a feature of our lives.'
If Sally is one of the more raw recruits, Helen Couch is among the older
hands. She's 76 now, and hadn't played an instrument until she joined
in January 1989, after seeing a two-minute spot about ELLSO on television.
'I thought it was hilarious, the idea that you could play with an orchestra
after a couple of hours, I thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever
heard,' she confessed. She chose the violin because, she said, she was
'dead lazy', and couldn't imagine lugging a cello on the tube, and because
she knew there was an old violin gathering dust under her son's bed.
'I always assumed I was musically illiterate. Well, I still am, but I
love it, I really do, although it's hellish hard work. I love the people.
I'm ashamed that I'm not better, but I get self-conscious if I practise
at home in case the neighbours hear and I'm not getting it right. You
can hide in the orchestra, and knowing you can hide gives you confidence.
We're improving as a group. Nine times out of ten we start together,
which we didn't in the beginning. Now look what it's done for my CV.
I've played on stage at the Royal Festival Hall, and played with the
Royal College of Music.' Liz Herbert, who joined ELLSO 13 years ago, had recently begun a three-year
stint as its chair. She too, vividly recalled being handed an instrument
and finding herself in on the act. 'It was wonderful, having just done
a few open strings, to sit in the orchestra and be part of this big sound.'
A primary school teacher, she had also enjoyed being the student not
the organiser - until she was press-ganged into taking charge of the
sheet music - collating, handing out folders. Now as chair, she feels
she is giving something back to the orchestra. She was one of the minority
to choose the cello. 'But a lot of people really like playing the cello,'
she insisted. 'At one time we had 26.'
They also, at one time, had five tutors, back in those piping times
when they were funded through adult education in the borough. This ended
when the Liberals came to power. The orchestra was forced to reorganise
to survive, and now they're down to just four tutors.
As part of the democratic process, after coffee, members numbered off
into three groups to discuss the ordering of the timetable and ideas
for the millennium. Should Saturday mornings follow a slightly different
pattern? Should they introduce more activities? Extend the morning or
compress the sessions?
There were grumbles that the mornings always started late. Someone said
that coffee breaks dragged on too long, someone else that changeovers
were too slow and haphazard. No one was prepared to sacrifice a moment's
playing time: nothing must dilute that Saturday experience.
And so to more rehearsals, before going home to rest, and changing into
the dark skirt or trousers and a brightly coloured top which is as near
as ELLSO gets to a 'uniform'. When you are used to seeing orchestras
in black and white, performing as a homogenous whole, it is diverting
to see a bunch of strong individuals, all doing their own thing, more
or less in concert.
The catholic
choice of music played that evening was also very ELLSO. The idea is
that members should experience every kind of music, from Renaissance
through to contemporary, to overcome fear or antagonism wherever it exists. Stages 1 and 2 played Trepak by Mortand, Stages 1 and 3
the Hornpipe from Handel's Water Music. Then followed Dido's Lament and
La Cumparsita,
before the full orchestra
came together to play Beethoven's Scherzo, the slow movement from Haydn's larky
Surprise Symphony, and finally, Hello Dolly!, a special arrangement by Gavin
Davies.
Chris Shurety used to work in local government, was the
policy officer for the council's environmental strategy, and Agenda 21
co-ordinator.
His involvement
with the orchestra meant getting up at 5am, to put in four hours before going
to his day job. 'To tell you the truth,' he confessed, 'I was knackered.'
1992 was also, of course, ELLSO's tenth anniversary, a
period of fruitful self-criticism, out of which came Contemporary Music
Making for Amateurs
(COMA), an initiative
faithful to the orchestra's ideals, which last year won a Prudential arts
award. Now, 'until the Prudential money runs out', Chris Shurety works
full time for
COMA. 'It's changed my life,' he said, 'it's certainly richer' (although
not, he was quick to add, financially). 'And that's what ELLSO has done
for lots
of other people. Not all will want to carrry on learning an instrument,
but if they've
had a positive experience, and are beginning to find out what they really
do want to learn, it gives them confidence to move on. There are a lot
of people
who started with ELLSO who've gone on to study for higher degrees and emerged
in new careers.'
I hadn't 'played' an instrument since, at age five, I banged
out Oranges and Lemons on the triangle with my school percussion band,
on stage at
the Civic
Hall, Croydon. To have the chance, even to hold a violin was... well
what everybody says: a revelation.
You know, you really ought to try it.
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