a great day.
some of my thoughts and observations:
An unusual event, effectively in graduation week at the Royal College, right opposite the beautiful Albert Hall with its freezes and 'age of reason'ness celebrating science and the arts, the halls and corridors of this working college were filled with the sounds of students playing away/rehearsing/having classes; the sounds of strings and things filling the halls. A beautiful building with stained glass windows celebrating mozart and others, and some hideous 70's extensions.
Clearly this was not a gig motivated by sales and promotion but a chance to play with 'kids' somewhere grand. his enthusiasm was evident.
the look on smudge's (and i'm sure my) face was a picture when pete lockett said to the 20 or so of us who had just watched him, open mouthed (us not him) playing some serious tabla.
"Right, turn to page two in the handouts. Clap the rhythm and repeat the syllables with me"
South indian music, with all of it's apparent complexity and impenetrableness was made almost repeatably understandable. Excellent. It was the first music lesson I have been in for more than 16 years.
Before the QnA there was a short performance of the 'theme' to this weeks' percussion festival, lots of drummers/percussionists. A laugh was had when cymbals were held apart revealing the legend "Roxanne" printed on them.
Mr C was accompanied by family members and surrounded by young uns learning their craft which, i guess, led him to talk more than i've seen before about his family and their various desires to play music.
He was asked about his learning difficulties."Differences, learning differences" punctuated Mr C, before going onto talk about dyslexia and how he coped with a lack of ability to pay attention in school. he spoke about an influential drum teacher (whose name escapes me, max someone?) Max taught Stewart to "learn his dots and eat his greens". He spoke about having to take his brain apart to remember his theory when he started composing.
Smudge, daftart and i sauntered into the soundcheck and watched for a while without hindrance as Stewart asked for more of everything apart from the keyboards in his monitors.
"Can we go from the slowdown at bar 173?" asked stewart. He and the 17/18 yr olds went through some bars. I was impressed by the lack of patronisation from stewart as he treated the students as a working orchestra. He had said earlier in the QnA that he was not going to tell the students parents any waffle about how perfect they were or how together.. he said the best compliment he could give was that they could all go and earn a living playing in the real world.
During the performance proper stewart was chucking sticks into the air with usual aplomb. although fandom hysteria was not appropriate in the small (but perfectly formed) Britten Theatre, i could see a number of eyes dart towards where the sticks had fallen. Before the last tune, i rose and squeezed out to the aisle. I stood, waiting for the clapping so i could go down and pick up the stick. I was literally on the balls of my feet about to walk down the 10 steps from the back to the front of the auditorium (it was that small) when i saw a certain northerner (phil9) walking along in front of the stage to pick it up. "well done you bastard" i whispered in his ear as he walked past me.
However when it became clear that more sticks were available phil and i were down the front again asking roadie-ing students if they could pass those sticks. One student (in his uniform) said " no mate, these are mine now". w*nker! Phil redeemed himself by getting two more sticks and giving one to me. hero Badge for phil. Thanks mate.
Someone else got a towel. "Is it wet?" I asked. The answer was too rude to print in a family newspaper like this one...