North east Essex has quietly been developing a classical music festival. I first noticed a poster for Roman River Music a few years ago in the window of a cafe down the road from the Mercury theatre, advertising concerts in various churches around Colchester. There was an address to write to if you wanted tickets, and it all sounded rather a faff, especially if I were to try and organise anyone to come with me. Establishing in principle that someone would like to go, then making them hold the date while you find out whether you've got tickets, sounds like hard work for both parties. Last year I got as far as looking at a brochure, egged on by a friend who was helping out at the festival, and even indicated to her a couple of concerts I'd be interested in going to, but she was busy helping and we never got organised to go together. By now the festival has advanced to on line booking, and I simply booked a few things I liked the look of, and as a bonus agreed to go and help at this morning's recital at the Minories.
In truth I did not help very much, because there wasn't that much for on-the-day volunteers to do. I was given the task of selling programmes, nicely produced and substantial books covering the whole festival and costing a tenner, but since there were only three left pending a reprint, that didn't take long. The festival organiser seemed slightly defensive about the price, which has doubled since last year when they lost money on programmes, but I adopted my sales technique honed at the plant centre, which is to smile, look people straight in the eye, and appear confident as you tell them the price of something. The book did look comprehensive, with information about every piece of music (or at least the scheduled programme at the time of going to press) right down to the lyrics, and notes on all the musicians, so it would be worth it if you were going to several events. If people said they were only going to the one concert then I laughed and agreed that in that case they wouldn't get their money's worth. It didn't take long to get rid of the three copies. Apart from that I told somebody where the loo was, and showed the programme details to two or three people who'd forgotten what it was they had come to hear.
That was music by John Ireland, Lili Boulanger, David Knotts (no, I hadn't heard of him either. He is still alive) and Ravel. I don't think my CD collection includes a single thing by any of them, unless Ravel's La Valse or Bolero have sneaked in on a compilation album, and I wouldn't have chosen that particular event out of the festival programme if my friend hadn't been involved, but I was willing to give it a whirl. Approaching it in a spirit of openness I quite liked it, especially some of the quieter moments of Lili Boulanger, but it hasn't started me on a new quest to discover early twentieth century French music. You can't be mad keen on everything.
I finally earned my keep helping put the chairs away afterwards. They were hired by the festival organisers, and the Minories manager told us to put them in the garage ready for the hire firm to pick them up. The garage turned out to be not very large, and already almost entirely full of other things, including some freezers to which, since they were switched on, I guessed the Minories cafe staff might want access. I knew that with all the gardening I was reasonably fit, but have now also established my credentials as The one of your friends most able to fit an unfeasibly large pile of folding chairs into a very small space.
One of the concert goers looked extremely like Bernard Jenkin, but I still can't work out if it was my MP or simply someone who looked like him, having never met him. He gives music as one of his interests on his website, and he was working the room with the smiley confidence you'd expect from an MP, so it's not totally unlikely, but not very likely either. Whoever it was had a great concertina fold of tickets, so if it was Bernard Jenkin I hope he gets to use them before parliament is recalled to debate the Scottish vote and English devolution. For the record, I think Bernard Jenkin is a good MP.
Addendum By the time I got home it wasn't worth resuming work on the hedge. I potted up my latest bulb order which arrived while we were away, other than some tulips (which you will remember need to wait until November when the soil is cooler) and some anemone de Caen which I put to soak overnight in the kitchen, where they are sitting in a pyrex bowl looking like ingredients for a witches' brew. The last lot of anemones I soaked and planted not long before our holiday have leaped into life, with leaves up to three inches high and pots absolutely crammed with roots, so I planted them out. I'm not sure when they are planning to flower, and hope it won't be in the middle of a cold spell that destroys the blooms, but as the bulb companies send them out in September, this is when I'm planting them.
No comments:
Post a Comment