Why Grass Roots Music Matters

"As poetry is the harmony of words, so music is  of notes; and as poetry is a rise above prose and oratory, so is music the exaltation of poetry” – so said Henry Purcell when talking about music three centuries ago. And last night, here in Ruddington that is exactly what we got – the wonderful harmony of notes and the exquisite exultation of poetry! And all from the composing pen of Purcell.

Purcell – often regarded as the father of English music (see blog: An Evening With Henry Purcell)  is in many ways a shadowy character – in reality we know little about him.  But there are a few clues. The story that Purcell died because he’d been locked out in the cold by his enraged wife after a pub crawl may be apocryphal, but the fact that it seems plausible shows he must have liked a drink. He could be testy, even in front of his beloved Queen Mary, who annoyed him at a soirée by preferring a rough-hewn Scottish folk-song to one of his artful creations. He didn’t think much of his public either, saying the pieces they liked least were always his best.  In short, he knew his worth, and, rather like Mozart, didn’t suffer fools gladly. His technical facility was astounding; like Mozart he found composing easy.. In a guide to practical music published in 1697, Purcell described composing a set of variations over a repeating bass as “a very easie thing to do, and requires but little judgment”. In saying this he restated what his contemporary Johann Sebastian Bach said at about the same time:  “It's easy to play any musical instrument: all you have to do is touch the right key at the right time and the instrument will play itself.....I was obliged to be industrious. Whoever is equally industrious will succeed equally well.” Well, I suppose the late and wonderful Stephen Hawking thought that of his physics but it still leaves me a gibbering wreck!

Whatever the facts of Purcell’s life and work what cannot be denied is that his music captures perfectly the times and feelings of the age in which he lived and at the same time it is of such breadth that it also captures, now as then, all humanity’s glorious aspirations, joys, hopes, fears and sorrows.  This world was captured to perfection last night by the Ruddington & District Choral Society, the six soloists and the Ruddington Chamber Ensemble as they performed their well named concert: An Evening with Henry Purcell. For a few hours St Peter’s Church was taken back to the world of Henry Purcell: a wonderful selection of his works played and sung beautifully allowed us to experience joy, celebration, desolation, fun, magnificent pomp and ceremony, dance and theatre of seventeenth century England.

The pomp and majesty of his Trumpet Tune  - a fitting start on a Royal Wedding day - was played with both flourish and brilliance by the Ensemble and made everyone, I’m sure,  want to stand to attention, to stand tall in honour of the nation. But then we moved to the awe and mystery inherent in his work I Was Glad – written by Purcell for the Coronation of James II. The Coronation of a King or Queen is not just a great state occasion it is much more – it has an almost mystical, religious element involved with the handing over of power and the new monarch accepting the trust and worship of the people. As such the music has to be not just glorious but awe inspiring and able to invoke the innermost passions of the people. It was; the Choir caught to perfection the sense of occasion – a haunting serenity mixed with a measured stateliness. It was easy to picture in one’s mind the royal procession moving down the aisle; stately, grand, awe inspiring, the personification of the nation with all its hope and fears. But then, from the awe, wonder and majestic ceremony of a Coronation we were taken into another equally emotionally charged atmosphere: the Funeral Music for Queen Mary. This was a high spot of many high spots during the evening; wonderful music played with such solemnity and grace and sung with such reverence and quiet devotion that the audience sat, like me, transfixed, overpowered by the sense of occasion. The Choir and Ensemble’s rendering of the March and theThou Knowest Lord sections of this great work captured exactly the desolation that Purcell felt at the death of his beloved Queen whilst at the same time the warmth of the feelings that he had for her were captured beautifully by the Ensemble’s wistful and gently lyrical playing of the Canzona .

And then, once again, the mood changed with the gloriously celebratory Rejoice in the Lord Alway,  with its long introduction replicating the pealing of church bells. Ensemble and Choir were at one here – a reworking of the words from Phillipians this was a joyous celebration; the Ensemble producing a warm and almost sprightly sound as the Choir, their faces clearly showing how much they enjoyed singing this much loved work,  gave voice and made real the work’s title “Rejoice in Lord Alway”. Then, once the applause had died down, we moved again. From a celebration of  Biblical words we were transported to the seventeenth  century London theatre. No longer were we celebrating stately power or rejoicing in the word of the Lord; this was Purcell the theatre composer, the man who enjoyed his glass of ale and his nights frequenting London inns. The Ensemble’s playing of the Suite from Abdelazer  was a real high spot -  and the applause at the end confirmed this. We were treated to a rich textured mix of courtly dance rhythms, jaunty melodies and stately tunes.

The sound created by the Ensemble proved beyond any doubt that no matter how good one’s CDs and stereo systems and no matter how many times one has listened to Benjamin Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra - which grew from Purcell's Abdelazer Suite - there is nothing quite like live music for creating the real atmosphere. I closed my eyes as I listened to this work that I know so well, but had never heard performed live before. And as each of the ten short movements played I was not in St Peter’s Church in Ruddington but in a smoke filled, candle lit Restoration London theatre enjoying a bawdy plot, witnessing courtly dancers, marvelling with seventeenth century eyes, at the magical stage craft and stage machinery – transported to another age, another world. That is the power of music, but especially live music, to take us to another place and hear what people of another age experienced - and the Ruddington Chamber Ensemble’s rendering of this sumptuous work last night took the audience and me to that other time and other place via Purcell’s  splendidly evocative composition.

And so to the passionate but tragic tale of Dido & Aeneas. What a treat! It cannot be easy to successfully produce a concert version of a work that is intended to be acted – but that didn’t deter the performers last night. From the opening Overture we enjoyed a feast of exquisite music that I am sure, had Purcell been watching from the rafters of St Peter’s he would have commended, pleased that his great work was still very much alive and well in twenty first century England. The tale of Dido & Aeneas is rich in magic, symbolism, huge pathos, extremes of emotion, and simple humanity that everyone can relate to and the six soloists together with the Choir an Ensemble tapped into this with huge success. The purity of sound from the soloists was complemented and given a richness of tonal texture and colour by the Choir and the Ensemble as conductor Paul Hayward pulled out all the musical stops to get the very best and more out of his performers. Central to it all was the superb Michael Overbury playing his harpsichord adding depth, detail and sheer musicality to the whole evening. Again, we had the full range of music – dance rhythms, serene solos from Dido (Rebecca Sarginson), mysterious and magical melodies from the Sorcerer and the Witches (Alicia Hill, Zoe Nendick & Naomi Armstrong), wonderful sympathetic and impassioned singing from Katherine Choonara  as Dido’s Lady in Waiting, and throughout, Geoffrey Hickling as Aeneas, a perfect foil to all the mystery, witchcraft, and passion of the love affair with Dido – here was a man torn between his destiny, his desire to please the Gods and his great love for the Queen of Carthage.

The whole built to a sublime climax and I suspect even those members of the audience who did not know the story of the two ill fated lovers were on the edges of their seats as I was as  Dido sang her final aria - one of the great works of all opera and music, the awe inspiring and renowned Lament – When I am laid to rest in earth, my wrongs create no trouble in thy breast. This was high drama, one of the high points of all music, and  Rebecca Sarginson carried it off superbly. As the final notes died away from Dido, the Choir and the Ensemble  there was  a very tangible sense of desolation in the Church before the audience erupted into a huge round of applause. It really was worthy of a standing ovation and when David Russell stepped forward to thank the audience for coming he was not wrong in beginning his remarks by saying that what we had just heard was “very real treat”. Indeed it was – and the response from the audience was clear – they agreed with him.

The night had been one of contrasts. From the rousing opening of the Trumpet Tune to the deep sorrow and desolation of the final moments of Didi and Aeneas we experienced  the full spectrum of human existence in all its joys, sorrows, ambitions, defeats and twists. We listened to music that came from Purcell’s professional life as a court composer interwoven with tunes that he might have first heard sung in the inns and taverns of London. From bright Restoration London theatre music we slipped into music of huge reverence and religious intensity. From joyous, celebratory music we plumbed the depths of human sorrow. From tunes and rhythms that might best be described as rustic or “of the people” we soon found ourselves in the world of  grand and stately court and dance music.  And throughout, and underpinning it all was Purcell’s consummate skills as a composer  and as a master of the English language proving his own words true:  “As poetry is the harmony of words, so music is  of notes; and as poetry is a rise above prose and oratory, so is music the exaltation of poetry” . Under Paul Hayward’s baton and Michael Overbury’s skilled musicianship this was a crisp, enthusiastic fresh and sympathetic rendering of some of Purcell’s greatest and best loved works. So many times the performers brought a lump to the throat so intense was the emotion that was generated in works like the Funeral Sentences or Dido’s Lament or I Was Glad  but then in a trice we were exhilarated by the grandness of the occasion in works like the Trumpet Tune or The Suite from Abdelazer or the magnificent pealing of orchestral bells accompanying the Choir’s wonderful rendering of Rejoice in the Lord Always - in short an emotional roller coaster of wonderful sounds.

We live in a world that has come to expect and demand perfection. Whether it be the health of our children or ourselves we expect only the best – and largely, the wonders of modern science, give us just that. We expect our motor cars to run perfectly and are surprised and distressed when they do not. At the drop of a hat we complain to the supermarket or shopkeeper when things do not quite measure up to what we expect of them. Increasingly when we talk of sport what we are really talking about are the elite (yes, we even call it that!) footballers and athletes from the elite teams. Perfection is the name of the game in modern day life. In music it is no different; when we switch on our i-pods or stereo systems we are used to hearing the world’s elite musicians giving us musical perfection from their hi-tech recording studios where all imperfections are simply air brushed out. But there is – and, as last night proved, thank goodness  – another narrative.

I can listen to every single piece of music that I heard last night on my stereo system – and have done so for many years. My various Purcell CDs bring me the world’s greatest Purcell performers and interpreters – and I marvel at them. But last night, courtesy of the Ruddington & District Choral Society, the Ruddington Chamber Ensemble, the six wonderful young soloists, the conductor Paul Hayward and the musical talents of organ and harpsichord player Michael Overbury, gave me something else..........it brought me real, live music with its unique and glorious sound and played not by elite professionals but by enthusiastic, highly talented, hard working, amateur musicians and music lovers. Just as in Purcell’s day when every time any work was performed it was by its very nature unique since the magic of recording studios were not available and the players were often journeymen players earning  their crust, not musical  super stars so it was last night, this was music in the “raw” – with all its highs and lows. The musical puritan might have picked out small imperfections – and I’m sure that every performer and Paul Hayward and Michael Overbury, too, will also be aware of them – but that is not the point, it was “live”, well rehearsed and yet unique, not air brushed of all errors. It was the unique and personal musical skills and efforts of every man and woman who performed it, with no "added technological extras" to iron out imperfections and boost performance; and that was its strength for it had a vibrancy and freshness that can never be reproduced in the sterile recording studio.   Until the last note had been played no-one knew how successful it was going to be; would the difficult bits be mastered, would those high notes be attained, would that tricky bit of counterpoint be overcome or the interchange between orchestra, choir and soloists come off? This is what gives live performance an edge – and especially so when it is not being performed by the musical elite who we all know can do this sort of stuff. After all, that is why they are “elite”.

Given this, it was no surprise that as the last notes of Dido and Aeneas died away and there was a very brief silence before the audience erupted in applause as Conductor Paul Hayward’s hands fell to his sides and he smiled at this performers and mouthed “Well done, thank you”. It was not relief but recognition of a wonderfully well done job that Henry Purcell, had he been sitting in the rafters of St Peter’s, would have recognised for, I am sure, he would have felt the same on many occasions in  his own musical life when his live music met all his expectations.

In any walk of life it is the grass roots that matter. We do not (or should not)  measure the “health” or success of a nation by what a tiny minority at the pinnacle are achieving. The elite should, rather reflect the success of the grass roots – get it right at the bottom and the rest will follow and that is why concerts like last night’s are so important. Not only do they give an opportunity for amateur performers to perform and enjoy their interests; not only do they provide a local venue for ordinary people to go along an enjoy a performance; but they are also vital ingredients in the structure of the whole – be it music, football, dance, or any other pursuit one can think of. They provide those at the start of their interest in the activity - be it singing, playing, developing sporting talents etc. - to rehearse and practise their skills and so widen their experience of the activity as they climb the ladder to greater success.  They are, therefore, the bedrock of future success. The Ruddington & District Choral Society have over many years provided opportunities for aspiring young soloists to join them in their concerts and some of these same young soloists are now established “stars” in their own right – there, to a small degree, because of the experiences they gained at the grass roots with amateur groups like those who performed at St Peter’s last night.

Paul Hayward and Michael Overbury at Ruddington are continuing this important work. They are widening the choir and orchestra’s repertoire, undeniably improving the quality of the performance and without any doubt bringing a joy to each performance. This was clearly visible on the faces of the singers and players; in their concentration; in their attention to their conductors leadership. They were giving it their all – and the result was a glorious evening from start to finish.

A few minutes after the concert began I was sitting at the desk in the church entrance way waiting to catch any late comers to take their entrance fee when a young lady, looking rather anxious and complete with back pack and shopping bag, crept in. I asked if she wanted a ticket and a programme but she said no – she had been standing at the bus stop outside the church and had heard the music (Purcell’s Trumpet Tune). As she stood listening she had seen the advert for the concert pinned to the church gate so had come up the church drive to take a peep. She had half an hour to wait for her bus she explained to me in whispers, “Could I stand and listen for a few minutes”. I gave her a programme and she stood almost open mouthed looking and listening through the glass of the entrance way. As the next piece came to an end (I was Glad) she whispered “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about classical music but this is wonderful. Is there another concert soon?” I pointed out the next concert in the programme and she smiled saying “If I’m around I’ll try to get to that one, I didn’t know that classical music was like this”. She sat for another few minutes listening and glancing at the programme and then whispered, “My bus is due” – and she disappeared into the evening air and down the church path clutching her shopping bag and programme.

I don't know if that lady will return but just maybe the concert opened a little window for her - and that is not to be dismissed. We live in times when mobile phones, tablets, hi-tech computer games, an all pervading media intent of grabbing our attention and every waking minute, plus a busy life style  all combine to attract our attention away from books, music (of any kind), the theatre or the art gallery. This is not about high or low culture but about how we respond to what I will loosely call the arts - be it Henry Purcell or the Rolling Stones, Michelangelo or Tracey Emin, Harry Potter or Charles Dickens. And if those few minutes opened a little window for that lady then both she, and the rest of us, will be all the better for it. The poet William Blake writer of the Jerusalem (And did those feet in ancient time.....) famously commented  “Nations are destroy’d or flourish, in proportion as their Poetry, Painting, and Music are destroy’d or flourish." He was not wrong and that is what grass roots music in the community is for  - to sustain, celebrate and enhance a nation and a  culture and it is why it is so very important. To enable everyone to access, understand, enjoy and perhaps be moved to perform music in all its forms. Unless we get it right at the grass roots then we will not have the great orchestras, the wonderful tenors, altos, basses and sopranos, the elite choirs in our great musical venues. And nor will we have those local groups and opportunities to enjoy our musical heritage. It is why last night’s performers and the hard, enthusiastic and inspiring work that Paul Hayward and Michael Overbury do at Ruddington is so important. It’s not just about Ruddington Choir and Ensemble, it’s also about the future and the musical life of the nation. Henry Purcell would have understood that very well.

Thank you to all at St Peter’s for a rich and rewarding night of some of the very greatest English music.