Gatton Music Zone 2010

Having just returned from Gatton Park Music Zone for the fourth consecutive year last Saturday, I thought it would be appropriate to write, once again, a little about my fantastic five days spent there last week. As ever, I was astounded by the musical enjoyment and benefit that both I and, I sure, others took from it.

If I had thought that the 21 and a half hours of rehearsals that had been crammed into the course the previous year had been tiring, I was in for a big surprise this year. A total of 19 and a quarter hours of rehearsal may have appeared relaxation in comparison, but this year, as one of the more senior students on the course, I had been asked to be part of the Working Party. In essence, this meant that I was one of a group of about 10 students who had to set everything up, move everything and tidy everything away throughout the week. I did not have a problem with this, as every year, someone has had to perform this important function, and I did not see why, this year, as one of the biggest and oldest students, thought I say so myself, I should not help a course that I had greatly enjoyed over the past few years to run smoothly. The added incentive of pay at the end of the week was not discouraging.

Being part of the Working Party was certainly causative of fatigue. Who knew that a bag of drum kit attachments could be so heavy? I like to think that, after a shower and a good, strong cup of tea, I'm pretty good in the mornings, but getting up at 6:30 in the morning, when all one wanted to do was some serious log-like behaviour after the previous day's intensive music-making, to load percussion, music stands and amps into a van seemed cruelly extreme. We can't have done too badly, though, because, during the final concert at the HG Wells Centre in Woking, the Working Party was mentioned in the infamous 'thanks to' section, and described at the most 'efficient, organised, willing, helpful and good-humoured(?)' Working Party ever. This had never been said before. All credit is due to the student who acted as our leader; he fulfilled his capacity with superb control, insight and hard-workingness, if that's a word. . .

After my rather embarrassing mess-up on the last note of the concert last year, I didn't really want to lead the cello section of the Symphony Orchestra again. However, people insisted, probably out of politeness, and there I was with the conductor's baton up my nose again. Leading a section is a difficult thing to do, especially with an enormous section of 15 cellists. I probably mucked it up completely, being more concerned about actually playing my part correctly than about the general unison of the section. Surprisingly, I grew in confidence over the week, and by the end of it, I had even managed,once or twice, to keep in check the speed of various temperamental tendencies within the section. That said, I have never been known for my compulsive tempo rigour.

When I wasn't heaving large objects around or sweating like a pig in rehearsals, I managed to make the most of my spare time. Unsuccessful, but enjoyable, games of pool were connected by variations on football to different levels of competitiveness and even violence. Diving on astro-turf is not a good plan, as one of my friends found out the hard way. . .

It seems that the older you get, the younger the TV programs you seem to watch. It was not uncommon, in the senior common room, to find Walter Disney weaving his unswerving magic in cartoon form on rough-mouthed, rugby-playing teenagers. Some people, myself included, preferred to retreat elsewhere to watch the football, amid groans of disappointment as two of England's biggest football clubs crashed out of Europe's elite competition.

Running up to Gatton, I had had a number of painful problems relating to playing the cello. At times my left elbow would flare up and repeatedly click sharply during and after practice. This could get very painful, and I was concerned that my arm would not stand up to many hours of repeated use. Indeed, the pain did get to a very high level on the Thursday of the week, and was, excruciatingly, coupled with severe pain in my neck which got worse with every rehearsal. Eventually, I had to sit out of some rehearsing time. It appeared the problem lay with two things. Firstly, the chairs in the school chapel, where the Symphony Orchestra were rehearsing, are unbelievably low. Many of the cellists in the section complained about the discomfort this was causing, as one's posture when playing the cello requires a suitably high chair to avoid tensing of the body of the whole. My height did not help. In the end, we brought down a few chairs from our sectional room, to try to alleviate the problem. It helped a bit, but I ended up pinching an adjustable piano stool. Furthermore, the cello tutor observantly pointed out a not insignificant problem in my posture that could be causing me greater discomfort. I rectified this, and have felt no such pain since. A good night's sleep and lots of cups of tea later, and I was ready to throw myself back into vigorous rehearsing. Many thanks to the tutor for her helpful comments.

The Friday evening informal concert had fewer items in than in previous years. The strings played some typically slushy stuff that had an awful cello part, and there was a lot of percussion on offer, and so, inevitably, a lot of noise. The leader of the Symphony Orchestra had his hands over ears, as he couldn't bear the amusing cacophony. I told him just to wait until the brass performed Brooklyn, the last item in the programme, which had been decidedly ear-splitting the year before. Much to my chagrin, though, the trumpets, trombones, french horns, euphoniums and tubas seemed to be lacking a certain firepower this time around. Afterwards, the Working Party spent a large amount of time packing up and preparing to move the equipment of three orchestras into vehicles for their transport to Woking the following morning. Wheeling a timpani on one wheel, on a leg that was determined to collapse, was a rather frustrating experience.

The Symphony Orchestra had a rather odd selection of pieces to play this year. What we played was:-

• Dance Suite No. 2 by Kenneth Leighton - Intrada - Ragtime Jig - Blues - Introduction and March - The first time we played this collection through in rehearsal, I was slightly bemused by the oddities present. However, some careful counting and excellent conducting later, I grew to enjoy these pieces, although what they sounded like to the audience, I really do not, or want to know. Our conductor threw his baton up in the air whilst conducting this one; a publicity stunt, in my humble opinion.
  
• Blue Tango by Leroy Anderson - This was quite a fun piece, and the cellos had a lot of the tune, even if it was sadly smothered by other sections of the orchestra. The dynamic changes were insane.
• Rites of Tamburo by Robert W. Smith - An interesting piece, with lots of clashing rhythms to contend with and some cracking cello tunes that might had made me want to cry I hadn't been occupied with concentrating on what I was playing. Will have to wait till the DVD arrives. . .

I don't think I made any glaring mistakes, but you never know. What I do know is that at the end of the first movement of the Leighton, the orchestra didn't all finish together. Probably my fault. . .

All in all, I greatly enjoyed Gatton. A week full of exciting rehearsals, hard work, good food, some relaxation and musical enjoyment in general, was made all the better by the amazing tutors, conductors and house staff who were always friendly, helpful and supportive, and by the many new people I got to know.

It's just a shame I've only got one more year left. . .

Elation at Finishing English

Yesterday, I began the dreary trudge to the bus-stop from school, but nothing could really dampen my spirits, not even the facts that I was sweltering hot and that I still have a large amount of revision to do before all my exams are over.

The reason for my elation?? I had just sat a two hour English Language exam, writing four mini-essays, a letter and a newsletter article about things that I don't really care about. Why English examiners have to pick the most uninspiring topics to write about, I don't know. Who really cares about whether or not I want a motorbike race to take place in my local area, or what my school could do to save energy? You may now be wondering how this made me happy. The answer to that is simple; that exam was the last I will ever sit for English in any way, shape or form.

I have to give one positive thing about the examining board for that last exam, though. The extract that we had to read was about the TT races on the Isle of Man, which presented at least a little interest in the subject. In the mock exam, we had to analyse an article about someone whining about teenagers. I fail to comprehend the assumption that examining boards make that teenagers are even remotely interested in articles about teenagers, smoking and the like. Believe me, we're not. Another thing I have against the exam board is that they are ridiculous. They are the WJEC, the Welsh Joint Education Committee, for a start, and my school is just outside of South-West London, for goodness sake! The instructions on the front of the paper were given in both English and Welsh. This was an English paper, remember? Anyone who is not able to understand the instructions in English for an exam should not be doing hours of exams in English.

In total I had six and a half hours of English exams, this time round. That strikes me as quite a long time to waste writing your hand off. There was a two and a half hour English Literature paper, and two two hour Language papers. That I wasn't looking forward to them is an understatement. But now I'm done with English forever, and it's something I have been waiting for for a long time now. That is, of course, unless I get an awful grade for English Language, and have to retake. But let's not dwell on that. I wouldn't retake English Literature even if I got a U, because noone anywhere asks for English Literature GCSE to do anything that I plan to do in the future.

The many hours that I have spent enduring false analysis and post modernism in English lessons are over. I hope. Writing essays by taking a quote, making up what it shows and twisting a whole book to invent a theme around it is finished. And I'm more than relieved, I'm ecstatic. Hmm, I used the word ecstatic a lot in my English exam yesterday, to show that one writer disagreed with another that the motorbike riders were insane, because she had understood the joy of acheivement amidst great danger. Or something like that. . .

Gatton Music Zone 2009

Last Saturday, I got back from going to the Gatton Music Residential Course for my third time. Once again, I greatly enjoyed myself and was surprised at how much a group of musicians can achieve in just a few days. I was, naturally as I play the cello, in the Symphony Orchestra, and the week brought a refreshing break from the endless work and revision that I have found myself in over the past month in the run-up to my GCSEs.

Once again, there were thirteen cellos in the orchestra. Now I'm not superstitious, but for the second year running the cellists suffered a minor bout of problems. The cellist next to me was tuning her cello when her a-string snapped. Fortunately, I had a spare one which I gave her, and she paid me back very promptly. And then there was the girl who I warned about propping her cello up against THAT chair, who got angry with ME when it fell over and needed at least ten minutes attention to get it back working again!!! :O

The previous two years that I had been to Gatton, the food had been awesome right the way through. However, this time, the first meals we had were horrible (no offense). There was pizza with a base like cardboard, a the toppings looked and tasted like food scraps just piled on top of it. I was glad to find that the food would improve over the week, with some good pasta, dumplings, and English breakfasts.

We seemed to have less rehearsal time than usual this year, which was a shame in some ways, but we still spent 21 and a half hours in rehearsals (in the school chapel with appalling accoustics) and sectionals (in a boiling hot classroom). Somewhat surprisingly, I found myself in the principal cello seat, and it was very useful almost to have the conductor's baton waving under my nose at times. In sectionals we spent a lot of time (maybe too much) sorting out bowing, which was important, especially seeing as in the concert we would be very squashed together and so coordinated bowing in desks would be essential.

For obvious reasons, I chose not to spent my free time doing jazz or wind chamber music. I also chose not to do the string chamber music, as I normally play in a small string orchestra anyway, and they probably didn't want a bottom-heavy chamber group. Instead, I played numerous games of pool or table tennis, watched 'The Inside Man', and even had an exhausting game of 3-a-side touch rugby!! :D

I have always been a morning person, and I was very glad I was, as I did not have to suffer the agony of being wrenched from slumber by the house waking bell. Unlike the annoying clanger of other years and other houses, people were reluctantly awoken by the sharp sounds of trumpets or a TUBA! On Thursday morning, we even got a rendition of the theme tune of The Empire from STAR WARS. Being already awake, I was able to enjoy these musical murderers with amusement and appreciation.

Once again, there was a distinct lack of violas in the Symphony Orchestra. (Two more than last year, but that still only made two altogether). I was impressed by the violinists who were gutsy enough to learn to play the viola in a week, so that the viola section were always well represented in our pieces. As violinists and violists were constantly changing seats for each different piece, we had the amusing situation during the concert of coming onto the stage with one leader, and leaving with another!!

In the final concert at the H. G. Wells Centre in Woking on Saturday afternoon, we playing the following pieces:-

1. Overture from 'The Marriage of Figaro' by Mozart. - This was very intense for the cellists, with lots of difficult runs thrown in here and there. However, I thought this came of very well, and I can't wait for the CD to see just how effective the contrasting dynamics were. My dad in the audience said that this got better as it went on, and the musicians warmed up.
2. An English Folk Songs Suite by Vaughan Williams. - These three movements were very different, with solos dotted all over the place. We played superbly, and I personally was relieved that I counted my cello solo correctly. I also had to memorise parts of this so that page turns wouldn't upset the flow of the music. My favourite movement was the third one, a very light-hearted one with some very fast arco-pizz changes and vice versa.
3. The Carousel Waltz by Richard Rogers, arranged by Custer. - Once I had all the tempo changes sorted out in my head, and when I remember to go to the coda, this was relatively simple to play. It had a strange beginning that was most un-waltz-like, but it soon got going, and it was enjoyable to play, and hopefully to listen to as well.
4. The Allegretto from 'Palladio' by Karl Jenkins.- I had played this all-string piece twice before, but this time, when playing in a much bigger orchestra, there was so much more to think about and the somewhat-monotonous cello part became almost exciting.
5. Hoe-Down from 'Rodeo' by Aaron Copland. - This was an explosive piece, with an awesome trombone solo and some horrible rhythms. However, it kinda got a bit ragged at the end, and I made a howler in the final bar. (I don't think the audience noticed much but I know the conductor and the musicians around me did. I'd like to apologise profusely for my stupidity!)

The acoustics at the H. G. Wells Centre were really very good, and I was surprised at first to hear how clear the rehearsals beforehand there sounded. It made a great contrast to the appalling acoustics of the chapel for the Symphony Orchestra's rehearsals and the Friday evening informal concert.

In the Friday evening concert, the string section as a whole performed an arrangement of Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'All I Ask of You' from 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Whilst I am sure it sounded good, I felt it went on too long and was too slushy for the situation. (This was also the opinion of the non-string-players that I was sharing a room with). There was a lot of noise that evening, as brass and percussion players took turns or combined to make ear-splitting dins made worse by the shape of the chapel. There was however, an impressive, if loud, rendition of Brooklyn, that seemed to leave the air vibrating for a while afterwards. Also, various smaller groups performed items, such as a pair of flautists, a string chamber group and a solo trumpeter.

I would like to offer my deepest thanks for everyone at Gatton, whether tutors, house staff or participants themselves, for a most enjoyable and profitable week. A number of pictures of the final concert can be viewed on my Facebook profile. I was once again staggered by the amount that groups of dedicated young musicians managed to acheive in just a few days.

Christmas is coming too soon!!

One second, someone said that word. Yes, just as November melts into December, someone said Christmas.

That one word is far too powerful in our society today. It has the power to make the general population to fork out millions each year, and the power to make them shudder at the prospect of an ever-growing list of preparations that must be done this time around.

Less and less subconsciously each year, we are hyping up to the effort and exhaustion that is the Christmas break. Whilst we may groan about that longer Christmas card list, or that person who we can never think of anything to buy for Christmas, we still continue plugging along with what Christmas has become.

Sometimes, the preparations for a Christmas service is all about the mince pies afterwards, and not really about the real meaning of Christmas, that through God's love for us and His plan, He sent His Son to become man and eventually die for us.

Christmas has come too early, and it's mainly because we add too much to the list of jobs to do.

English Coursework (again)

Guess what! I've got more English coursework, and right when I should be enjoying myself.

Firstly, I have to do a second draft of my Sherlock Holmes essay (see previous post) , when all my teacher can say is refer to the question more, and indent your paragraphs. That's not really going to give me much inspiration to redo my coursework, is it? The best way to start hating a book is to write coursework on it, I have concluded.

Also, I have to write an essay on Macbeth, when I don't really have a clue what is going on in the play. We shouldn't study Shakespeare in ENGLISH as it's not really ENGLISH is it?

This work all has to be done for the other end of half term, that is, half-term holiday. I've made this point before (again, see previous post), but this time it's worse, as it's getting hot now and I want to enjoy the sun.

Between now and the holiday, I've got work experience, which would have been fun, except for the fact that I now have to fill in some silly booklet about it. Also, I have to do some French coursework about it, how annoying!

The NUT - Truly Nutty (but thanks for the day off school)

Well, tomorrow, Thursday 24 April 2008, I will not be going to school. That is a happy truth. The reason behind it is that the NUT (National Union of Teachers) are going on strike.

But why is this Trade Union going on strike?

My brother's form tutor is a member of NUT, and she says something to the effect of:

"Those in the NUT not striking should be ashamed of themselves for not doing so"before adding, "We have no reason to strike, but the NUT have called a strike, so I'm going on strike!"

Hmm. . .

English Coursework

Surely there must be a law against English Coursework, especially against having to do hours of hard slog when you really should be outside, inside, having fun because you're on holiday.
But no, someone somewhere has missed the point of the word 'HOLIDAY'.
That someone is an English teacher and department, that somewhere is my school.

At first, I thought that I was going to get away with not having to do any coursework at home in my free time, as my first piece of coursework just 7 weeks into Year 10 was done at school, during lessons on the computers. It was a piece of travel writing, so it wasn't that bad, and I wrote about my trip to Ypres, Belgium with my grandparents back in 2006. We went to the trenches, museums, and memorials there of the First World War. That particular piece was not too bad, as I just wrote it as it was, without having to make stuff up about a story in order to get any decent marks.

Then along came Spring Term Half-term HOLIDAY. The teacher set us an essay for coursework on a Sherlock Holmes story: 'The Speckled Band'. She gave us some sheet telling us what needed to be in the essay, with references from the story. Typically, the references were given column numbers, and were from a different publication of the story from the one I was using, so that was no help at all. To tell the truth, the sheet did help me a bit, but it also meant that my essay was an awful lot longer than it would have been without the sheet, and so it took more time and wasted more of my precious holiday. In the end, I wrote a load of stuff to analyse the story that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle probably never meant to happen. He wrote the story for people to enjoy, not to pull it apart!

And now I'm re-doing a piece of coursework that I don't even need! It is meant to be an alternative for my travel-writing piece, but I got a good mark for that and I was happy with it. We were told to write a 'Locked Room Mystery', so I did. I wrote a really short one, about 400 words and I did write a mystery; I left it unsolved! :D Then my teacher said it wasn't long enough, so now I have to do it again, over the Spring Holiday, and I've written nearly 3000 words now. It's a sheer waste of everything! [:(

P.S. No, it's not good exam practice; no-one can write 3000 words in an hour by hand.