| As the Beatles
slide into history) electronics move into the
concert-hall, and the famous orchestras,
increasingly centred upon music of the past, fall
ever deeper into financial trouble, where stands
school music in today's world, and where stand
we? The
answer to this question could fill a book, and
the man who writes such a book will not have his
nose to the school grindstone. Nor will his book
be up to date for long. One of the disquieting
features of the modern scene, not only in music,
is the increasing conflict between very rapid
changes and developments, opening up new
horizons, and the natural human tendency to cling
to what one knows and can cope with. Musical
education is in particular danger of
fragmentation by this conflict because so much of
it consists of small closed worlds each ruled by
one person - and a person, perhaps, who has all
too little tine for surveying horizons new or
old.
You can find
schools where every pupil is taught to play an
instrument of some kind and the morning assembly
sounds like the Dawn-chorus ; schools where
nearly all the pupils sing in the choir, and they
perform works like "Belshazzar's Feast"
from memory ; schools which have three or four
full-time instrumental teachers and a senior
orchestra that can play ( properly ) Beethoven
symphonies } schools in which miracles are
performed with a great circle of pupils armed
with such things as half-empty bottles and pieces
of gaspipe, and the conductor at the centre
simply revolving and pointing. And you can find
schools where the music-master is interested
chiefly in Tudor madrigals and Monteverdi, and a
dozen talented pupils are with him all the way (
schools whose pop-groups rock the lunch-hours
with their practising and do pretty well for
themselves in the evening ; schools which produce
a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta every year and
have no other musical activity ; schools, even
today, which have no music staff at all. ' :
Somewhere
between these heavens and these hells, rather
closer to the latter than the former and at a
curious angle to all, lies the musical world of
Prescot Grammar School. About ten per cent of the
pupils learn to play instruments, receiving a
very inadequate amount of instruction unless they
seek it outside ; very few boys, and now no
senior boys, sing in the choir ; there is no
experimental work of the bottle-and-gaspipe kind,
and all too little creative work of any kind. The
pupils do their best to delight the music master
with the exotic flowers of the modern pop record
industry, sometimes successfully, and he has been
known to leap up to the stage and contribute to
the rhythm-and-blues group ( otherwise an
independent concern ) an extemporary blow upon
his saxophone j and a frightful roaring overheard
on the field and in the physics laba has proved,
upon anxious investigation, to be a certain
fourth year singing class performing the works of
those sane historic Beatles. The School Orchestra
is nearly fifty stong, and though it cannot play
Beethoven symphonies it did this season play
Gerahwin's "Rhapsody in Blue",
Khachaturyan's "Gayane Dances", and
other pieces that might well be called
"semi-classical". More and more, the
emphasis in the Orchestra's work tends to be on
jazz : some would call this an irrelevance in
today's world, but recent trends have made me
less willing to concede this than I was a few
years ago. Our jazz does indeed tend towards a
slightly antiquated style, and it does not
include as much improvisation as it should -
though we are always trying to develop this -but
it is blues-based, and modern pop seems to be
moving towards rather than away from us. With
these and other elements intermingled, the whole
sound and over-all style of our concerts is quite
unlike anything to be heard elsewhere, and that
cannot be bad.
What we have not
achieved, and do not look like achieving, is that
dissolving of the barriers between
"types" of music, and "types"
of creative work generally, which is the real
characteristic of the present age, and my own
ideal. If anything, our barriers continue to
rise. For example : our former gramophone society
folded up years ago, largely because it tried to
please too many tastes and ended up attracting
nobody. But over the last two years the new
Recorded Music Society, organised with great
dedication by two boys, Lawrence Perkins and
Philip Ashton, has built itself up into a modest
success on the simple assumption that
"music" means "classical
music" ( just like the BBC's classical
record review programme, which is blandly
announced every week as "for ALL record
enthusiasts I"). Another example : for our
recent jazz concert we did not invite a
contribution from the rhythm-and-blues group,
simply because they use amplification, which
gives unlimited volume without effort and would
thus have made nonsense of our slow build-up of
climaxes in orchestral jazz pieces ) thus we had
created a barrier of our own. So we convened
specially for the event a gallant if not very
polished "folk-group" with acoustic
guitars, and they made a modest effort at
barrier-breaking by ranging from old Irish
through country-and-western to the current
charts. The leading honours for the jazz concert,
however, must go to our three improvising
soloists, Stephen Myatt and Raymond Carroll C
tenor saxophones ) and Philip Renshall (trumpet
), and to the drummer, David Roscoe, whose
devotion to the job can be guaged from the fact
that ever since he aquired, in mid-season, a
magnificent kit of his own, he has allowed it to
be kept entirely at School, locked up most of the
time ( including holidays ) and has seldom seen
it except at rehearsals 1 This was our first
fully "public" jazz concert. The secoi
" night of it - our fifth full-length
concert of the season - was our best j. rformance
for years, justifying the huge amount of work
that had been done ( including rehearsals in the
holidays ) and making a wonderful finish for the
Talrly numerous leavers, six of whom have given
no less than six years' outstanding service to
the Orchestra : John Norton, David Robinson,
Donald Laagford, Geoffrey Strettie, Philip
Halliwell and Robin Boyle.
To continue the
roll of honour : Nigel Reeve's piano-playing was
of very high merit, most notably as soloist in
"Rhapsody in Blue", and he also figured
in both the violin and the horn sections of the
Orchestra. Jeffrey Oakes ( clarinet ) really made
our playing of the "Rhapsody" possible
by mastering the celebrated clarinet
"slither" at the beginning ( a small
thing it may seem, but nobody knows how many
hours and weeks it took -(except perhaps his
neighbours! ) and all his other playing was
equally brilliant ; his standard is professional
and his achievement unparalleled in this School.
Alien Jessop, our second outstanding pianist, was
tremendous both as soloist and as a tireless
"work-horse" : his amazing
sight-reading has made many things practicable. (
Incidentally with Reeve going now and Jessop next
year, a horrifying shortage of good pianists
threatens us. Have we any unknown talent in the
lower school? ) The list of names could easily
become unwieldy : obviously I could praise nearly
everyone for technical merit or for loyalty or
both. If I am to single out an orchestral player
besides those already mentioned, it must be Peter
Morris ( alto saxophone ) who, somewhat in the
shadow of the two tenor players, has achieved an
impressive technical standard with little (
recently no ) instruction and in the face of a
whole series of discouragements.
Having suggested
above, correctly, that the choir was of
inadequate size and stength, I must end by saying
that it was also the best choir for years in the
two essential qualities of musicianship and
beauty of sound. At the Christmas concert they
sang more items than any choir has had ready
before ; and one of these was the double carol
"The Kings", in which an elaborate
melody by Peter Corneliu* is sung simultaneously
with an old hymn harmonised by Bach - a piece I
had been holding in reserve for years,waiting for
a choir that could do it. Another Christmas item,
sung also in the church on Founder's Day, was
Bach's "Flocks in Pastures Green", with
the accompanying flute duet played by the
hardworking Kerr twins. Then in the short Easter
term the choir spent much of its time learning a
piece which had to be abandoned because the
singers were too few to hold their own with the
full orchestra j but they again showed their
quickness in learning and capacity for hard work
by preparing in only a few weeks,more than enough
items for the March concert, one of which, in
particular, enchanted all ears : Grieg's
"The Last Spring ."
|