The Show Must Go On

[teamsaint]

Indeed, one up for team saint-saens!

If only one could say the same of proceedings at Loftus Road.

still plenty of time to go.....

Edit: well would you Adam and Eve it

A late , Late show by the other Super Saint S as well.... ......



Sorry, Ed, back to your stories.......

[edashtav]

Here’s a story of Karl Ulrich Schnabel, pianist son of Arthur who taught music and was brilliant at characterising musical emotion in words. This piece comes from the Yorkshire Post , March 1950:

“In the middle of a recital at Sheffield City Hall by Karl Ulrich Schnabel, a string in the piano broke. After trying to repair it Mr Schnabel told the audience: “This is a strange coincidence. Only once before have I interrupted a recital and that was here in Sheffield.”

A man working with a pair of wire cutters made a repair and the concert continued with the same piano.”

Not a particularly unusual story. I expect that many of us can tell tales of a pianist struggling to remove an errant, broken piano string that responds by springing and coiling itself this way and that in a manner akin to a spitting serpent, but for for one performer to suffer twice in Britain's City of Steel is more than unlucky. Perhaps, there was a buoyant market in piano wire "seconds" in Sheffield which was well used by local piano tuners.

[edashtav]

Press-ganged Conductor Passes with Flying Colours!

Hubert Stanley Middleton was a well-educated organist who despite being an “Oxford man” was instrumental in creating the curriculum for the Music Tripos at the University of Cambridge. In 1926, he was the organist of Ely Cathedral. He’s virtually forgotten these days but he influenced Raymond Leppard who wrote of Middleton that he left little except people. Leppard also recorded this bon mot by Middleton:

“He once remarked, after patiently listening to a jejeune student tirade of mine either for or against some composer, “you know, Raymond, as a professional, it will not be your business to like or dislike any music – it is enough to be aware and know about.”

That is a rather long contextual introduction to an incident at the 8th Summer Course for Music Teachers held in Oxford during 1926.

I quote from the Western Daily Press report (14th August, 1926), with interpolations in italics from other contemporary reports:

“As it was his last lecture, Mr Middleton devoted most of it to practical work, making the students and teachers sing some madrigals and motets.

At one stage he called for a volunteer conductor.

No one, however, came forward, and at length Mr Middleton gave up his persuasive manner, and leaning down, grabbed the man nearest to the platform by the hand and collar, and hauled him up, causing great amusement.

The student made a valiant effort to conduct, and to emulate Mr. Middleton’s manner, but the situation became so humorous that Mr Middleton, who was standing on the platform, collapsed into a chair convulsed with laughter, and the young conductor, flinging the baton almost at Mr. Middleton, took a flying leap from the platform.”

[edashtav]

Colin Horsley Loses Pedal Power

Here's another hornspieler story from hs days on the road with the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra:

Ipswich (Gaumont Cinema)

Greig Piano Concerto.

Colin Horsley with Constantin Silvestri (not Mr Preview) and the BSO. A Sunday afternoon in a rather overheated location with an almost dead acoustic (as one would expect to encounter in a cinema).

A brief seating rehearsal upon arrival and we all retreated into the afternoon sunshine. Colin Horsley remained inside, trying to tease some acceptable sounds out of the piano.

A lively overture (Colas Breugnon as I recall) and onto the platform marched a determined looking Mr Horsley. He raised his hands high, brought them down rapidly onto the keyboard and the entire pedal assembly detached itself from the mainframe and clattered to the ground. We waited for half an hour (outside in the fresh air), waiting for someone to be found who could fix the piano. When we returned to the platform, more than half of the audience had vanished but we finished the programme for the benefit(?) of the stalwarts who had stayed on.

[edashtav]

The Show May Go On

TRUMPETS SEARCHED FOR DYNAMITE
Vienna, April 7th 1887
The Hungarian papers give characteristic details of the reception of the Hungarian Gypsy Band which played in the Czar’s Palace in St. Petersburg a short time ago. The swarthy artists had to give up their instruments two days before their first concert for a thorough inspection as to whether they were not filled with explosives. They were also subjected to a minute physical examination before they were allowed to enter the Palace. Finally, when the whole band had taken their places on the platform of the concert hall, policemen were placed behind each, so as to watch every movement. The Czar was much pleased with the concerts, which were frequently repeated, until the events of the 13th of March put an abrupt stop to them. The Standard

I wonder if anyone can tell of the events of 13.03.1887 in Czarist Russia?

[edashtav]

The Tattoo Must Go On

From the Cork Reporter, 18th August, 1865
A cavalry trumpeter was in love with the lady’s maid of a dashing widow. I suppose such a thing has happened before. Trumpeters are supposed to be dapper, handsome fellows, and like the much favoured police, they sometimes get admission within doors, and a bit of supper from their lady-loves. Our trumpeter was on duty and had his trumpet hung from a showy cord. No doubt he was all the more attractive to his Abigail from having his instrument with him. He thought he would have just a moment to look in before he joined his players to play tattoo. The mistress was out, but unfortunately the poor fellow had only just entered the house and had seated himself lovingly in the drawing-room by the side of his beloved, when the grand lady returned. People generally come in with a latchkey in France. The step was on the stars and there was nothing for it but to thrust the bold dragoon behind a large sofa. Unfortunately, the lady did not come alone, a handsome gentleman accompanied her. There was no crime in it, for he was her declared, and accepted lover, and in a few months they were to be made one. They seated themselves on the very sofa behind which the trembling trumpeter was crouching. As is usual amongst lovers, they said all manner of foolish things, amongst which, of course, were the doubts and jealousies of the tender passion. “One day,” said the gentleman, “you will forget me.” “Have I not promised you?” “But you know I have first to make this journey, and, when I come back – ah, separation is a dangerous thing! – you may forget.”
“If I ever forget you,” answered the tender hearted widow, “may I be punished in this world and the next. Forget you! Not till the trumpet of judgement shall sound.”

At this word a strange idea struck the soldier who was weary of the scene and of his position, and fearful of being late to sound tattoo. He put his trumpet to his mouth, and with a tremendous blast sounded the charge. The lady rushed from the room, tore down the stairs, and threw herself into the dining room to have a quiet faint. The gentleman, equally astounded, of course, followed. The trumpeter stole down the hall and was off, but he laughed so long and loudly that he could hardly sound tattoo that night. His blast was probably not a very musical one from behind the sofa, and yet he might have said – had he known how: Sic me servavit, Apollo.
[Thus was I served by Apollo.]
From the Brussels correspondent of the Irish Times

[edashtav]

The Tram Must Go On

Hornspieler has been dredging deep amongst his lifetime of brass memories:

Our cornet soloist was a sycophantic sergeant who'd been in the R.A. Band for at least twenty years.
He'd been there since boy service and knew of no other life. I couldn't help liking him - he was a simple soul and only wanted to please everybody.

We were playing in Glasgow's Kelvinside Gardens and Sergeant Ted was deputed to play a piece for “Echo** cornet” called Sicilietta.

As I recall, it sounded suspiciously like the Barcarole from The Tales of Hoffman.

Ted didn't have an echo cornet, so he had to play away from the stage itself, but where?

Behind the bandstand or in the bushes he couldn't see the conductor. Lt Colonel Geary (MBE, psm) was in a foul mood.

“Use your initiative, sonny,” he barked (to a man older than himself!) “See those trams all parked over there? Get on the top of one of those.”

Yes, the rehearsal went perfectly, but at the evening performance, just as the piece was starting, the tram that Ted had picked from the half dozen or so that were parked there started to move off!

The last we heard of Ted that night was the receding strains of Sicilietta; loyalty in every note, as Sergeant Ted headed off in the direction of Byers Road.

I'd never before seen anyone actually black in the face with rage. It was a sight that I will always treasure.

* A specially designed brass instrument for playing such pieces with a muted end replacing the usual flare of the bell. There are very few still in existence.

[ahinton]

We were playing in Glasgow's Kelvinside Gardens and Sergeant Ted was deputed to play a piece for “Echo** cornet” called Sicilietta.

As I recall, it sounded suspiciously like the Barcarole from The Tales of Hoffman.

...Sizilietta by Franz von Blon (1861-1945) arr. Henry Tolhurst (1854-1939), I somehow suspect, from certain unfortunate days of my misspent youth...

[french frank]

...Sizilietta by Franz von Blon (1861-1945) arr. Henry Tolhurst (1854-1939), I somehow suspect, from certain unfortunate days of my misspent youth...

You weren't that cornet player, were you, ahinton?

[edashtav]

60+ Years On, Their Show Goes On

Maureen Smith is a fine English violinist and teacher who studied with her mother, Eta Cohen, that doyenne of violin teachers, who died at an advanced age, I believe in 2012 . Michael Roll is another outstanding musician born in Yorkshire who won the Leeds Piano Competition when only 17. I couldn’t resist transcribing this piece about their early days in Leeds! Their show still goes on!

From The Yorkshire Post Saturday 14th June, 1952

Hoping to Entertain at Leeds Children’s Day

It took three men four minutes to lower a music stand far enough to suit Maureen Smith, a violin soloist at Leeds Town Hall last night. For Maureen is only six and is little more than 3ft high.

One of the two youngest competitors at the Children’s Day Young Entertainers’ Competition final audition, she won cheers and applause of parents and friends for her playing of two short pieces by Schubert and Handel.

Equally popular was a young pianist of exceptional promise, five-year old Michael Roll. By special request the two children who both live in Roundhay, Leeds, and who are in the same infants class at Talbot Rd. School, played Brahms “Slumber Song” as a duet.

Michael, who spent the waiting time last night running up and down the Town Hall corridors, pretending to be a train, has been playing the piano for his own amusement since he was three-and-a-half. His parents are Dr. and Mrs Roll of West Park Drive, Roundhay.

Maureen’s mother, Mrs Eta Smith of Kedlestone Rd., Roundhay was, until her marriage, a violin teacher. Last night Maureen played on her half-sized violin.

[kernelbogey]

Perhaps other older boarders will remember this incident. It was circa 1959-60 and was reported on the front page of The Times. I'm fairly confident that memory has not embroidered the story, despite the interval of years.

Leonara 3 was being performed at the Royal Albert Hall. I don't remember whether this was the Proms, nor which orchestra or conductor was involved.

The first trumpet had been positioned in the gallery. As he raised his instrument to his lips to give the signal for the governor's arrival, an RFH functionary stepped forward to restrain him with words to the effect of ''Ere, you can't play that 'ere mate'.

The second trumpet, below in the orchestra, picked up straight away. The principal was reported to have been very upset.

[edashtav]

The Show Must Go On : Gentlemen Please Stop Pulling the Lady Conductor's Leg

From the Gloucestershire Echo 29.10.1937

Women Conductors

Mr Reginald Jacques, director of music at Queen’s College, Oxford, has supplied an answer to the query, “Why is the woman conductor successful.”

He had, he said, seen women conducting with knitting needles and even a chair leg and putting up a “really grand performance”.

“The reason they conducted so beautifully with knitting needles,” he added , “is that thy had a perfect liaison with their choirs who realised that the conductors were absolutely sincere in their work.”

Tongue in cheek?

But... perhaps Reggie had seen Nadia Boulanger directing with one of her family's baguettes - from a distance it would have looked like ...

[ahinton]

You weren't that cornet player, were you, ahinton?

Certainly not!

Just one cornetto
But not for me
Playing the piano
Was agony
(&c. &c.)...

[edashtav]

Go on, Go on! Get it right!

Hs has drilled down deeper into his memories and recovered this gem:

The harmonica player, Larry Adler, told me a delightful story about a recital which he gave in Tel Aviv:

It is a well known that the concert-goers in Israel are very knowledgeable about music in
general and particularly so on the works of J.S. Bach; so it was with a certain trepidation that
Adler included his own arrangement of one of the chaconnes for unaccompanied violin in the
second part of his programme. He was delighted, therefore, when the audience cried out for the piece to be encored and he played it again.

Even louder demands for an encore encouraged him to play it for a third time but when the audience demanded it yet again, he
protested that he would be unable to get through his programme unless he moved on to the next piece.

A member of the audience then leapt to his feet and shouted, “You'll go on playing it until you get it right!”

[edashtav]

Paradise Lost : Schubert's Unfinished Symphony Must Go On!

The Morning Post Monday, 12th June 1882

PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY

With the exception of a short time allowed for the execution of two movements of Schubert’s unfinished symphony, the whole of the evening set apart for the sixth and last concert of the season was occupied in the performance of “Paradise Lost,” Rubinstein’s so-called “sacred work”, […]

Well, you can tell the critic was about to be less than impressed with Rubinstein’s extended piece: he went on to excoriate its “unexpected undercurrent of comicality”, but one senses that what he missed most, his "Paradise Lost", were those movements of the Schubert that were not executed!

Anton Rubinstein said of himself:
"To the Jews I'm a Christian,
to the Christians a Jew;
to the Russians I'm a German,
to the Germans a Russian;
to the classicists I'm an innovator,
to the innovators I'm a reactionary,
and so on.
Conclusion: neither fish nor fowl, a pathetic individual."

I found those words on a blog from 2004 that describes a modern revival of Rubinstein's "spiritual opera":

https://www.socialaffairsunit.org.uk/blog/archives/000224.php