| 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
."
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