A Happy, Healthy prosperous new year

Hello dear readers and a Happy New Year from me! I sincerely hope 2022 will be a memorable year for us all, full to the brim with music. While reviewing the year, one thing became blatantly obvious to me and that was the lack of performances during 2021. I think that was the general consensus amongst us musicians as we twiddled our thumbs with dwindling hope for the ping of a text or an email notification inviting us to play. The upside to this is that I have cherished those rare performances that did go ahead like gold dust and those I played for were all the more memorable for their scarcity. It’s in our blood to entertain and to distract audiences from everyday life. If we can provide a means of escape for a couple of hours, then it’s job done. There’s no feeling quite like it.

My greatest hope for 2022 is that I will be able to offer my musical services on a broader scale, whether that’s for weddings, parties, events, solo performances, funerals or in my role as an educator, helping my students express themselves with our amazing instrument. Zoom is still a godsend and although it can be frustrating at times, I am lucky that I have that option. Sharing harps is tricky and I really miss my monthly teaching at Saltaire.

None of us are blessed with a crystal ball and who knows what lies ahead with COVID rules and regulations. Who am I to speculate on our situation 6 months from now? I have decided to grab 2022 by the G string and go about my music business in as normal a fashion as possible. I will be booking wedding fayres and announcing them as they arise so do keep an eye here as well as on my Instagram and Facebook pages. I’ve missed the friendly banter and meeting fellow wedding suppliers and hearing what they’ve been up to, so it’ll be great to get back in the swing of promotional events again.

First up is a wedding showcase at stunning Hodsock Priory, a venue I discovered last Summer when I played for Gemma and Matt’s extra special wedding. This venue is like something out of a fairytale and the wedding team were just brilliant. If you want to come and listen and have a chat about the music I have to offer here are the details:

Beautiful isn’t it? I’ve been learning lots of new background repertoire and I’m keen to share that with you so do come along, say hello and tell me what tunes you’d love to hear on the harp. From Lana del Rey to Bruno Mars, via Ed Sheeran of course, I always do my best to accommodate your requests!

This Sunday I’m taking part in my first proper orchestral concert for 2 years! Orchestral playing is my passion but I’d like to share something - I’m absolutely terrified! Not so long ago, when I was playing with orchestras regularly, I would have thought nothing of this. None of the repertoire is particularly challenging and I’ve played most of the pieces before but I’m still worried. I just want to do the best job I can and ultimately, when the baton goes down in Bridlington at 2pm on Sunday, I know I’ll have just the right focus. I just have to trust the process! And BREATHE!

So there you go, Even seasoned professionals get pre-performance nerves. I will be focusing on the music, my breath and visualising everything going well and if I play my cards (notes?) right, I might even get a stroll on the beach but no Mr Whippy this time - it’s sugar free January for me!

Playing with lilies

At Hodsock Priory last year. Image by the super talented Photos by Hash. I promise I’m friendly, that’s just my concentration face

Check this out!

Click the link below to watch a sneak preview of Lewis Capaldi’s August concert at Croxteth Park featuring yours truly on the harp! The full performance will be on BBC1 tomorrow night at 11.25pm.

The Lewis Capaldi Symphony - Behind the Scenes

“Here’s a glimpse of my experience working with anti hero Lewis Capaldi last weekend. It’s quite a long read with lots of photos, so make yourself a cuppa or pour yourself a pint of IrnBru”

Number 1

Lewis Capaldi’s chart position for 7 weeks with Someone You Loved

Some of my most memorable performances have been those around which I have no preconceived ideas or expectations. I’d heard of Lewis Capaldi and seen a hilarious interview with him on iplayer (I think he drew comparisons between Shrek and himself) but I was unfamiliar with his music. I was also under the impression Peter Capaldi was his Dad.

When I was invited to work with Manchester Camerata for BBC Radio 1 presents: the Lewis Capaldi Symphony at Croxteth Park in Liverpool, I really didn’t know what to expect. I was away a couple of days before the rehearsal at the BBC studios in Media City, Salford, so I had 24 hours to prepare the music and immerse myself in as much Lewisness as possible.

My harp in rehearsal

Set up and ready for action.

I watched some videos on Youtube (I was particularly taken by the video for Grace, which featured him as an excellent substitute pole dancer) so that I could get an idea of his music and what he’s about. What had I been missing? I’m a bit of an ostrich as far as popular culture is concerned. I’m not really down with the kids. I enjoy silence. I don’t listen to much music and I don’t have a TV so I’m not attuned to current trends. Friends had mentioned his recent appearance disguised as Chewbacca (Chewis Capaldi), which went over my head until this week. I discovered he’s quite a sensation. Aged just 22, his voice goosebumped me immediately. Reminiscent of Antony from Antony and the Johnsons, it’s soulful, unique and unmistakeable and as with all great artists, is even better experienced live.

An unlikely hero, the Scottish guy next door who’s made it big time, he swears like a trooper too so he can’t be bad. Type his name into your favourite search engine and he’s all over the place, in every possible way. Imagine getting paid vast amounts of money to do what you love. Good on him. He was refreshingly nervous in the rehearsal, maybe at the prospect of working with classical musicians, and maybe the feeling was mutual. I don’t often get to play to such a massive crowd.

Skyscraping lines

Media City, Salford

Sunday: I drive to Salford nice and early for a 2pm rehearsal, unload, park my car, set up, and warm up. It’s clear straight away this isn’t my usual kind of gig. There’s a complex spaghetti of cables with headphones attached, and stacks of technical equipment in flight cases. There are also lots of people, way more than the usual orchestra staff. I feel a bit nervous. Will I be good enough? Will I cope? With an orchestral section all to myself, I have to make sure I let them know if I have any performance issues. That’s not the easiest thing for an introverted freelancer. We all want the best result with as little hassle as possible. I see familiar faces which reassures me and everyone’s friendly and helpful. Phew.

Meditation helps

Headspace is also the title of one of LC’s songs

Today is a 6 hour day. I didn’t need to worry about stamina and focus, but I don’t play with orchestras as much as I used to, so I was concerned that I’d stand out for the wrong reasons. I don’t have that much experience working with a click track on headphones and I soon worked out that I actually did need them, especially in more exposed sections where I got slightly out of sync with smashing arranger/conductor and general cool dude, Sam Swallow. Check him out here:

It’s great working closely with an arranger because they can explain exactly what they want, and Sam was explicit. His sound world was lush, rich and imaginative and even though I wasn’t familiar with Capaldi’s music, reactions from band members indicated he’d done a pretty damn fine job. He’d certainly done some great work with his harp writing. In rehearsal, he had just the right balance of intensity and seriousness with a dose of wry humour, and he provided clear communication between band and orchestra.

!

Outside Media City, Salford

At the end of the rehearsal we were told there was food provided. For us musicians? I said with some disbelief. How refreshing to be catered for even though I’d brought my own food and resisted the urge to jump on top of the hot meal and pizza provided. I took a can of pop and sipped some of it on my drive home on Monday night to keep me awake, but more about that later.

So if you want to make musicians happy, it’s dead easy. Offer them free food.

Pop music is where it’s at and I giggled at the image that came to my mind of me guesting with the band if they ever needed a backing vocalist or even a harpist if their keyboard player was indisposed. I’ve got a red denim mini skirt. The band’s onstage uniform consists of a red jacket and trousers. I could fit in. I could make it work.

Aiden and I

Lewis’ piano and keyboard player. His arms significantly longer than mine, he graciously accepted to take a selfie with me. Well I was playing some of his piano parts in the orchestrations and I bet LC gets a bit bored with all the attention. Aiden then went to play a pre performance game of football. Rock and roll.

The headphones took some negotiating. If I covered my left ear with a phone, I couldn’t hear myself or the others. I tried half covered which was an improvement but they slipped a bit. I turned the right phone so I could hear with that ear but it meant it got caught on my harp. I mused to myself - would the techies mind if I took the right one off the headset? I didn’t. Add my specs to this mix and it kept me occupied for the rest of the day. (I dropped them during the Liverpool rehearsal and the lens fell out along with the screw from the frame, so I had to use my reading specs for the show. Even more excitement!)

We finished just before 9pm. Time to pack up again and head for the hotel I’d booked a stone’s throw from Croxteth Park. I fell into a deep sleep just before 1am.

Early morning coffee run

Sunday: I had a lie in, springing into action at 7am. I was spoilt for choice for coffee which fuelled me for an exploratory morning run to get my bearings. How near was I to Croxteth Country Park? How would I access backstage with my harp?

Spotted

On the dual carriageway on my coffee run

It was a fantastic area, very green and planted with wild flowers.

Wild flowers and insects

near Croxteth Park

Back at the hotel, I saw a man at reception and, pumped full of emboldening endorphins, I asked if he was Mr Swallow. Now, let me explain. When the receptionist saw me arrive with my harp the night before, we got talking (travelling with a large musical instrument can be an excellent conversation starter) and she said the arranger’s father was staying at the hotel that night too. I’m sure Mr Swallow thought I was either psychic or a stalker, or perhaps both but after his initial surprise, he warmed up as we spoke about his son.

I told a couple of other people why I was in Croxteth. As soon as I mentioned Capaldi, eyes widened and faces creased into smiles. Everyone loves Lewis. A woman on her way to work at a fast food shop offered to help me get my harp into the car. We compared notes on our jobs, hers full time, mine my part time bread and butter work away from the harp. We concurred that shift work can be really challenging but the pay and perks are very good. It was reassuring to share our commonality.

Chilled Festival Vibe

at dusk before the concert

I rarely attend festivals these days. In my teenage years I frequented a lot of Eisteddfodau all around Wales, mainly to go to indie gigs. I have fond memories of camping with my schoolmates and drinking a bit too much before passing out and waking up in a hot sticky sweat inside the pale terracotta tarpaulin. My aspirations to travel the world started at a young age - I had a blue sleeping bag with a map of the world on it. I remember getting cleaned up in the local facilities with a bar of baby soap and a flannel before doing it all again that night. Once, we were allowed to use a trusting parent’s caravan which had an actual loo and a sink. Those were the days. My rock and roll days.

Teepees

in the festival village

The rehearsal went well apart from the occasional gust of wind wreaking havoc with our sheet music. The evening weather was pretty much perfect and I didn’t need the multiple layers, thermals and wellies I’d packed just in case. Finishing at 6, there were 3 hours to kill before showtime just after 9. Time for a quick snooze in my car.

Artistic parking

I soaked my sandals trying to get to a picnic bench for a sit down to conscientiously read through my music before the rehearsal

Walking around the backstage area, I bumped into my hairdresser’s sister Jade who was working at the event. It was good to see non musical familiar faces too. I passed a musician colleague who’d just been for a shower after her run. This wasn’t just any old backstage area. Again, we were catered for and the hospitality was excellent. Being offered hot food and fresh salads and not having to do the dishes was akin to getting an encouraging hearty pre concert hug.

I ventured to the front of field area and didn’t last long. There were hordes of excited audience members, giddy at the prospect of the Lewis Capaldi experience. I went to get changed and started fretting about tuning my harp. I’d been told I only had a tiny window of opportunity to tune and that I should be on standby at 8.40. The DJs were still going strong at that point. The atmosphere was electric. It was amazing to see thousands of people bouncing around to banging tunes without a care in the world. Loud, did you say? The sound roared from humungous speakers and vibrated from the wooden stage up through my body. I’m sure my harp loved it!

I spy

my harp, just about. Do you?

I didn’t really get to tune my harp properly let alone warm up. I went for it anyway. Nobody was there to listen to me specifically, but I was acutely aware that the show was being filmed for later broadcast on radio and TV. The overture opened with exposed harp quavers. No pressure then.

Liverpool mileage

It reads like a poor soundcheck. Lovely temperature. Don’t tell Mam about the dust

Somewhat appropriately, we started with the overture which didn’t have a click track so there was no need for headphones. We segued straight into the first number, Grace, so I reached over for my phones and clamped them on. Words can’t describe the feeling that comes from that collective exclamation of elation when a crowd recognise a band, then a song. Goosebumped again, I let it wash over me like a wave, beaming like a lunatic. I muttered “must remember to keep playing” under my breath, but this is why I do it. It’s times like these that remind me why I genuinely love my job.

Behind the scenes

There’s a lot of people behind those barriers. There’s some DJ’s centre stage getting the crowd going before Lewis revs ‘em up even more

75 minutes flew past in seconds and we came to the last number in our 11 song set, and probably Capaldi’s most familiar song, Someone You Loved. He’s an entertaining captiving performer and not just on a musical level. He had the crowd in the palm of his hand with his witty repartee. They were fully engaged and enjoyed some occasionally sweary banter. He donned some fetching flip up sunglasses. Turns out he’s got quite a collection of extravagant shades that make him look like a Banana Split. Watching the audience, I mused at how radically times have changed. Dotted within the sea of people, I could see small bright lights from mobile phones used to record the concert. In my day, we held lighters up or possibly even candles. I can’t remember.

We had to wait quite a while to leave Croxteth Park as there had been an incident on site. Just for fun, a section of the motorway was closed too. I missed the diversion sign and ended up going back towards Liverpool. I like Lewis Capaldi, but not that much! The free can of pop came in handy here and the bubbles dancing round my mouth gave me the headspace to keep going. Home at last and totally wired, I got to bed after 3am.

This, dear readers, is rock and roll, and I like it.

Croxteth Hall

Looked interesting

Festival flags

all aflutter

To Hull And Back

Humber Bridge - am I the only one who sees harp strings?

It’s been another busy week here at Rhian Evans Harpist HQ. It was great to get away last weekend and be in orchestral harpist mode once again for a couple of days. I made a guest appearance with the Hull Philharmonic, playing the harp part for the hauntingly beautiful and challenging Viola Concerto by William Walton.

Velvet toned violist Tim Ridout took centre stage with authoritative humility. His performance featured some beautifully poignant characterful playing. The sturdy musician-ship of the Hull Phil was ably steered by Andrew Penny and it was an exciting performance. I realised I haven’t performed with orchestra since February and I felt a bit disorientated at first. I gradually allowed myself the spaciousness to absorb the multi-sensory experience of working within an unknown ensemble of musicians in the stately splendour of Hull City Hall. Feeling more relaxed by the second rehearsal, I really could get used to that role again, one I fell in love with at the tender age of 15 when I first played with Clwyd Youth Orchestra. Those were the days!

I had quite a scary moment at the end of the rehearsal when I couldn’t find my car keys despite emptying all my bags and pockets thrice. I dashed down to the security desk where Nick, the super friendly security guard handed them to me with a knowing look. The bench provided wasn’t adjustable so I went to the car to get mine. I was already in harpist mode and, preoccupied by thoughts of music, left my keys in the car door. Lucky me! Hull City centre on a Friday evening isn’t such a bad place after all!

Duck plant

Garden bed-side at Wortley Hall

On Sunday, the wedding fayre I’d been looking forward to didn’t quite go as I’d intended. I’d hoped to meet dozens of clients as excited and enthusiastic about my music as I am. My morning started well, with two sets of clients I met at the most recent Wortley Hall wedding fayre, who had come to finalise their music choices. Other than a little interest for 2020 and 2021, it was a bit of a damp squib despite the glorious weather.

Wisteria hysteria

at Wortley Hall. Artichoke plant in the foreground

People drifted past as I played to my harp’s content, and my music seemed to have little or no effect on them. Perhaps they’re drafting their enquiry emails as I type. Or maybe I need to buy a guitar and take singing lessons. I know from experience these things can take time and I’m optimistic I’ll get a couple of bookings eventually.

Idyllic car park

Wortley Hall just visible through those amazing trees

It was lovely to work with Wedding Fayres Yorkshire again, who ensured proceedings ran smoothly as always. I’m extremely grateful to Paris Tyrell of WFY who, with lightning speed, generously filmed and uploaded a short videoclip of me playing A Thousand Years to Instagram. I then shared it to Facebook so I’m learning slowly but surely. It might eventually make its way to YouTube. It hasn’t gone viral yet but it certainly looks like I’m down with the millennials. Well, as down with them as a 40 something harpist can be.

I’m generally an optimist and I prefer to look at the bright side, but I admit I’m struggling musically at the moment. I have no paid playing work until mid June, a thought that worries me. I’ve sat down and done some rough calculations and as it stands, I’m not breaking even with my harp performance work. I’m afraid I’ve lost a bit of motivation too, possibly due to this. I’m a teeny tiny individual trying to integrate a gigantic competitive hungry industry, and therein lies my problem. I don’t have the business acumen or financial backing necessary to kick start my wedding business in this day and age. This has led to me losing my musical mojo momentarily. I’m not commercially driven in the slightest. I love to play, and trying to build my business has taken me so far away from my playing that I scarcely practice anymore, let alone play for my own pleasure. I haven’t touched the harp since last Sunday, and I don’t like that one bit. I’ve taken on an additional 10 hours of shop work this week to secure June, and having that work is an absolute blessing. It keeps me sane and in the black.

Obsessed with music

Bloody rusty wrought iron treble clef from a recent walk run

One thing I’ve found to be an excellent substitute for performance and sharing my music is exercise. It must be the adrenaline and the endorphin rush that follows. In a similar way to practice, it’s awkward and uncomfortable at first, but after a while I find my rhythm, and there are even moments I enjoy feeling my body jiggling about, my feet slamming the tarmac vigorously. Having been told I don’t have a runner’s physique, I’m honouring the rebel within. I love the freedom, power and independence running offers me. Besides, it’s far healthier than some other options available!

Next week I’m off and if I have time, I’ll be putting my version of an out-of-office sign up here. I’m going AWOL and I can’t wait. I desperately need a change of scene to gain some clarity about my situation and perhaps some inspiration regarding a way forward. So there’ll be no blog post next week as I’m turning off my laptop and letting it gather dust for a few days.

See you again in June, and remember to keep loving live music! And maybe even living love music - think about it…

Wortley Hall skyline

Creative unblocking

Playing

Today is Thursday, and it’s music day! Thursdays are usually free days and I try to fill them with as many notes as I can fit in. Today, dear readers, I just haven’t been in the mood. I’ve succumbed to several seductive distractions and I’ve felt very tired, a feeling I’m convinced is down to the meteorological conditions. The weather outside is frightful, don’t let it snow. (There’s almost always a tune or twenty going on in my head!) I try to fight my fatigue by urging myself to practice. This usually follows a walk, or a bit of a run or some sort of time spent outdoors, but I don’t like getting wet and cold! Jumping in the pool for my aquafit classes ticks that box and provides the bracing boost I need to infuse my day with positive energy. I don’t have time to go to the pool every day, so I can’t wait for some sunshine so I can feel the embrace of the great outdoors again.

I have a busy weekend ahead with more playing than I’ve done for quite some time and my fingers are a bit sore. In an instinctive mood this morning, I played through two steadfast cornerstones from my solo repertoire slowly from memory to warm up and was reassured that it didn’t all sound hideous. Interestingly, the pieces sounded quite fresh. A note to my students reading this - practice has a knack of doing that! You can work like the devil and it may feel like your playing’s getting worse, but great music takes time to mature. I can convince myself that I’m the worst harpist ever if I haven’t racked up a certain number of hours’ practice during the week, which can lead to a downward spiral of no practice at all or a negative approach. Cultivating a healthy sense of responsibility is a useful tool here. So for example, I’ve got a performance/lesson coming up - how do I want to feel and what’s the process I need to implement in order to feel that way? Used well it can provide a healthy motivation. Used poorly it can be a tool for self flagellation and guilt. It’s our choice.

I have a LinkedIn account and I get email notifications from them on a regular basis. This morning’s email opened like this - “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know”. Those words fill me with sorrow and I’ll be deactivating my account as soon as I have time. I genuinely believe the best advertisement is word of mouth and from recent experience, the word of the mouth of the moment, social media, is no great shakes, at least not the way I’m doing it! There has to be a better way and I’m working on it…

I gave an interesting lesson on Monday. It reminded me how fortunate I am to have an abundance of knowledge and experience, and I’m determined to put my skills to good use. I have a very creative mind which can run riot if I’m not careful in channelling it. I think most creatives are wired similarly. The trick is harnessing that energy by becoming attuned to its ebbs and flows.

I played for an ultra chic wedding last weekend at a spectacular venue. It was like something out of a luxury bridal magazine. Unfortunately I didn’t take any photos to show you here as I had quite a lot on my mind. My car exhaust broke late on Friday afternoon, and I got it back just in time for my departure on Saturday morning. My Satnav won’t update so I was trialling an app on my mobile while carefully keeping half an eye on my Satnav, switched to silent, for some form of visual guidance. Needless to say, I arrived at my destination with plenty of time to spare - I’m always aware that incidents like the M62 drama yesterday can happen at any time. It reminded me of a wedding I was playing at a few years ago. I went to pack my car which looked lopsided. I soon realised I had a flat tyre. With the clock ticking, I called my breakdown company, and the mechanic came quite quickly considering it was a Sunday morning. My tyre was fixed and I got to the wedding just in time. I’m often criticised for leaving super early for professional engagements and this is precisely why. I’d rather be there with time to spare for a nap in my car and a coffee than be rushing or, heavens forbid, be late. There ought to be a name for this phenomenon, like Freelancer’s Fear. There probably is, I just don’t know about it. If I’m late or I don’t arrive, I won’t get paid!

This weekend I’m climbing back into the old orchestral saddle and although I feel underprepared by my standards, I’m really excited about playing a beautiful orchestral work and being part of a bigger group of musicians again. Preparing for it has reminded me of my love and passion for orchestral playing and I do feel some sorrow and regret that fewer opportunities come my way these days. I’m on an exciting journey! I’ve enjoyed the discipline of the preparation and the immersion into the music that’s required for a solid performance. I’m nowhere near where I’d like to be with it but I know it’ll be more than good enough. Like one of my teachers Germaine used to say, “On ne peut pas être au four et au moulin”…

Wishing you a great weekend, hopefully with a few more radiant rays of sunshine. Perhaps I’ll see some of you at the Wortley Hall Spring Wedding Fayre on Sunday. I can’t wait to share my harpbeat with you!

Me, Rhian Evans Harpist

at Wortley Hall. Image - John Steel Photography

The Lowry - a Photo blog post for readers that aren’t on Facebook

I saw some spectacular sights before work last night:

Imperial War Museum

from the Lowry

Those dark eyes

watching over me one last time

Imperial War Museum

with a flood of poppies

Those dark eyes again

Gotta take the rough with the smooth

My BRITTEN Lesson

23 October

The pedalling passage

11 November

I feel a bit embarrassed about putting this messy picture up but I’m suspicious of people with pristine sheet music! Here is the page above with added creative process. Given another couple of days I could have easily played from this score but I ran out of time. People say my parts are unreadable. To me they make perfect sense - by that stage of learning, the reflexes and muscle memory have been programmed. The notes would have become part of me and I could have played it with my eyes shut

I realise that by writing with utter honesty here, if a fixer or colleague reads this it may jeopardise my chances of being offered orchestral work but I’m willing to take that risk. I see images and reports of perfect performances online (let’s face it, nobody wants to admit to a performance that’s below par) and I wonder how perfect these are. What about the f**k ups? What about dealing with difficult situations? I always aim to play all the notes and forget this isn’t always possible, especially when rehearsal time is brief. Sometimes a plan B is called for and as a tenacious perfectionist, I’m not always great at resorting to plan B.

Hindsight is a beautiful thing and there’s an opportunity to learn and not beat myself up. I thought I’d share some of my experience learning Britten’s War Requiem and what I gained from it. If I was doing work like this all the time and not trying to reboot my life it would have been easier - I haven’t had to learn a particularly challenging new piece this year so my process isn’t as well honed as it used to be.

I have a very specific sound in mind when I learn a new piece. Take Tosca for example - it demands a Puccini sound that’s often full and lush. If I approached Britten’s music with that style it would sound wrong. This makes life harder but I’ve never been one for just playing the notes, occasionally to my detriment.

My biggest enemy these days is time. If I’d had time I would have taken a clean photocopy of the original page and marked it up again without all my workings out leaving the bare minimum of markings. Ideally I would have enlarged this page and maybe put it on Sibelius if I had it and knew how to use it. Again I realise the majority of my work is last minute which has a knock on effect on everything else. I’ve never been a strong sight-reader so now, with my increasingly poor eyesight, I need to learn difficult pieces thoroughly to feel confident about playing, watching the conductor and listening to my colleagues.

This short and relatively simple section needed to be memorised

I’m glad I’ve had the opportunity to learn and perform War Requiem and it puts me in good stead if it comes round again or if I’m asked to teach or coach it.

This week is busy again with two big programmes over the weekend, including a couple of works I’ve never played. Everything else is familiar which is reassuring and the new pieces aren’t particularly challenging. There’s even a piece which brings a smile to my face! I commit to practicing slowly and calmly with curiosity and doing 4 hours on my quieter days, and making more time to listen to recordings of the pieces I’m working on. I also commit to finding a way of recording myself at home, mainly to log my own process and progress and to get used to recording. I commit to getting my eyes tested next week. Oh and I commit to believing in myself again, and in my love for music and my passion for sharing it.

Another tricky passage

Plan B

Ripon Cathedral

Pride of place - my lovely position beneath the poppies in the cathedral

I recently got back from tonight’s concert and a long day rehearsing in Ripon. The piece was Britten’s War Requiem which I mentioned a few posts back. I didn’t play very well. I feel out of sync with everything and I’m sure that’s how my playing sounded. I hate feeling like that. There was one pedalling section I was dreading which seemed to have worsened since the rehearsal. I got out with the others and got back on track a few bars later. I think what I need to focus on is right there in that sentence. I managed to recover and play most of the piece to a decent standard for a first attempt. Those who know me will know I have very high standards for myself. I pride myself on being super prepared especially for a concert of this nature, but I seem to have spent this season chasing my tail. I had to resort to playing quite loud music in the car on the way home to try and drown out the negativity. I do keep saying it though - my orchestral days are numbered. I’m just not enjoying it anymore, and I’m tired. So exhausted. That’s difficult to write - my passion for a very long time has been orchestral playing, and I almost felt that passion again once this season. Almost. Once.

Ripon looked poignantly beautiful festooned with poppies in all guises. Ceramic, fabric, paper, plastic, you name it. Walking up the path from the changing facilities, the cathedral was bathed in red light which gave it an eerie blooded quality. Seeing the crowds of people from far and wide congregated in silence to pay their respects outside the cathedral was breathtaking and humbling and there were some amazing installations in and around the building. I caught a glimpse of the thought provoking Fields of Mud, Seeds of Hope earth sculpture. At the end of the day what I need to remember is the reason I was in Ripon tonight. Remembrance. Would all those who made such unthinkable agonising sacrifices a hundred years ago have minded my pedal mishap? I doubt it. Maybe even conscientious objector Britten would have been having a laugh about it.

Festooned

The street opposite Ripon Cathedral

Life on Tour - week 2, Hull

I had a fantastic time in Hull and it certainly wasn’t dull. I love combining pleasure with business, even more so when it involves being near water. After a cold rainy start on Thursday and a smooth drive past Goole towers, Friday was glorious. Waking a bit later than usual meant rescheduling my intended trip to Withernsea beach. I settled instead for a bright brisk jolly welly yomp around Humber Bridge Country Park to dust off the cobwebs from travelling and quite an intense performance of Tosca on Thursday evening.

Park art

Smile with your eyes

I always arrive early for a performance, especially at a new venue. I haven’t played at Hull New Theatre for at least fifteen years so I didn’t know what to expect. I couldn’t even find where to unload my harp so I called for assistance. Chris Ladds deserves a medal and is one of the many unsung heroes of Opera North. He’s the orchestral operations manager. I know he’s only a quick call away when I need to get my harp in, and he invariably has useful advice about parking and other inside information. Chris has quite a challenging job in that he has to satisfy the rehearsal and performance needs of sixty or so musicians, no mean feat when we want to do our jobs to the best of our ability.

Olde and new

The pub near the theatre. The modern building is Hull History Centre

Each pit presents a different set of problems and as I learnt, the Hull pit is no exception. The only position available for me was in front of the doors, at the business end of four horns. With a half hour seating rehearsal, a tentative panoply of options and scarcely enough time to settle in, I didn’t realise how loud it would get. I had earplugs and fingers for the louder moments and I was provided a screen. However, my main problems were my distance from refreshingly passionate and expressive Dutch conductor Antony Hermus, and having a much reduced sightline to him as I was on a lower level than the bulk of the orchestra. I played two short sections in the rehearsal, insufficient time to work out that it would be a difficult position and do something about it. It was an edgy performance and I was glad to have my Pilates mat with me and a bathtub to iron out the creases. I felt no guilt whatsoever at indulging in my hotel room pop up spa the following morning.

Room with a view

These days I tend choose quiet hotels with a bit of greenery whenever possible and Hull was no exception. Hessle is a hassle free fifteen minute drive from the city centre and a generous stone’s throw from the iconic Humber Bridge and its Country Park. I was in room 101 with bridge and tree views as well as wildlife.

Unexpected avians

Peacock plethora in the hotel gardens

Golden gateway

San Francisco? Nope, Hessle

Using my time wisely on tour can be tricky. Playing isn’t an option as my instrument can’t easily be moved from the pit and I feel uncomfortable about practising when there are technical rehearsals in the theatre. My harping wouldn’t be a welcome accompaniment. For this part of the tour I decided to get physical in the morning, so I got a brisk walk under my belt on Friday and a long Pilates session on Saturday. It seemed to work as I felt quite calm. Meditation is daily and non negotiable and helps with learning to manage anxiety.

Precarious

Sliding tree

On Saturday I met up with Patti from the wardrobe department. One of a set of triplets with an older sister, she’s a beautiful bohemian Basque woman from Bilbao and she lights up the corridor as she breezes by. She’s very passionate about her work and I could sense that after a year of living on the road without a base, she’s ready to settle down to pursue a stable job. She says touring and freelancing is very exciting but difficult and tiring at the same time.

Patti

Creative, quirky and funny

We met at Trinity Market over coffee and cannoli and chewed the fat freely. Quite literally in my case after Patti returned to her digs to do her own laundry. I brought enough healthy home cooked food for the first two days meaning I’d earned a bit of a Saturday splurge. I don’t often eat out and when I do I try to choose something I wouldn’t make at home. I went the whole hog, plumping for meltingly tender pork belly, black pudding, smoked egg yolk and sauerkraut coleslaw on flatbread with a side of chips. I didn’t eat the bread - double carbs?!! Within twenty minutes the somniferous food took effect and I headed to my car for my siesta.

Filthy

Saturday special treat

I love that warm open expressive freedom innate to many Mediterraneans and southern Europeans and I miss it from the time I spent in France. I feel uncomfortable around people with stiff upper lips and Patti and I were in agreement that we Brits can be difficult to decipher. Why can’t we just say what we mean? Why do we feel the need to sugar coat everything?

Running out of time and steam from our express conversation, I earmarked the Maritime Museum and the docks for my next visit to Hull. I love ports - the atmosphere and aromas there are intoxicating, a sweet vivid reminder of unforgettable childhood trips with my Dad when he worked on the ships.

The beauty of the beach

without having to get in my car and drive

After an emotional performance of Tosca, my get out was swift and smooth thanks again to Chris’s willingness to protect my harp from the sudden strong gusts of wind. Llwyd welcomed me home with open paws, well, open packets of food strewn across the doormat actually. It’s her favourite expression of protest at being left home alone other than getting herself temporarily rehomed.

Next week is Nottingham and it often snows on this leg of the tour at this time of year, so I’m having my winter tyres put on next week just to be on the safe side. I’m braced for what the season heralds. And I still haven’t met elusive Welsh truck driver Huw - is he hiding from me? Maybe next week at the Lowry…

Structure

Looks like a sci-fi elephant

Interpretation and expression

Familiar

One of Britten’s characteristic markings. It made me laugh when I once found a Britten harp part where the bracketed Italian words had been replaced with the words “Aren’t they all?!”

At the beginning of this week I received the harp part for a work I’m performing next month, Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem. It’s a renowned choral orchestral piece and I’ve never learnt it. It’s completely unfamiliar. I’ve never even heard it performed. It got me thinking that this would be the ideal opportunity to share some insights from my learning process.

After leaving the music to ripen further in the envelope for 2 days as I didn’t have time to start looking at it, out came those notes enshrined in mystery yesterday morning. I’ve worked on quite a few of Britten’s harp parts and they are at times fiendishly difficult. His harp writing was strongly influenced by his friendship with male Welsh harpist Osian Ellis who was I suppose Britten’s harp muse. Ellis was a technical whizz in his heyday and this is obvious when you study Britten’s often complex writing.

I scanned through the music yesterday morning and was relieved to find that nothing made me wish I’d received the part sooner. Time will tell. This evening I started looking in more detail and seeing patterns in his writing. I recognised the meticulously precise indications and articulations specific to his style.

My next step will be to go through the part very slowly exploring each element and making sense of them. Much of my work will be done away from the harp with little playing. If I do play sections, they won’t sound great, much like a first draft or a sketch. I rarely like to listen to a new piece before I investigate it myself, mainly out of curiosity to see how near or far from the mark I get to the general interpretation. I will then research the piece and work out the roles of the harp within the orchestral texture. After I become quite familiar with it I’ll start listening to it, both with and without the printed music. With 3 busy weeks to learn it, time is of the essence and I’m trying to cut myself a little slack. It probably won’t be perfect this time. Marking up is a long and vital part of the process, and I’m often adjusting and making corrections a few days before a performance and, best of all, afterwards if there’s a repeat performance. Then I can go to a deeper level. There is only one performance this time, so hopefully I will have the opportunity to do it again. It’s a lot of work, which I enjoy immensely.

There’s an arid coldness to some of Britten’s writing and I often find his music can seem quite angular, stark and impenetrable at first, and by the same token there is so much beauty, such warmth and spine tingling emotion. His violin concerto is a scorcher, his operas masterpieces. One of my all time favourite Britten works is the Lute Song from Gloriana, so simply stunning I’ve added this sound clip.

The fact he almost always writes for the harp in his works means Britten is a force to be reckoned with and the challenge of learning one of his pieces is an opportunity for enrichment.

Draft pedalling

This will need work to make it work

I digress. Great pedalling is an art form and it’s very important to find a system that works. If you’re a non musician or lever harpist, the harp has 7 pedals, one for each note, with 3 positions - flats are at the top, naturals in the middle, and pressing the pedal right down sharpens the note. Accidentals (flats, naturals and sharps) basically make the note sound higher or lower. Looking at my feet, the pedals are in this order: D, C, B / E, F, G, A. I’m a left foot over right foot kind of girl. This means I write my pedals with D, C, B on top. There’s no right or wrong here but consistency is key.

Brownie points

if you can tell me why I need to edit this page

Choosing a good fingering can only really be done at the harp so that you can hear the results. To some extent, you can do this away from the instrument but you have to hear and feel the result and like pedalling, the fingering I choose might not work for another harpist. I think it’s down to morphology and how my brain functions as well as technical ability. I know some harpists would laugh at my imaginative fingerings but if they work for me and the music, it doesn’t matter. I try to choose my fingering according to the articulation and the musical intention and Britten is very precise in his demands. The small arrows in the passage above mean staccatissimo, very very short, and ppp means pianississimo - very very quiet, so this can be quite tricky especially if it’s fast. Articulation is like talking. Imagine someone talking in a monotone way, you soon stop listening. It’s the same with music.

Analysis is essential in understanding the piece, so this means working on key signatures, time signatures, harmonic progressions, basic structure and so on. It’s like baking a cake - knowing and understanding the ingredients you’re putting in. It’s way less boring than it sounds - it can be a vividly colourful discovery.

Visual memory is so important. I feel reassured if I can see the pages in my mind away from the harp and the more detail the better. Learning a new piece is like putting information into a computer. Input it any old how and any old how is what you get out. This doesn’t stop me from making it a fun, indulgent, imaginative and creative learning experience. This may seem silly but listening is important! Sometimes I’m so busy with one particular aspect of the music that I feel daft when I realise I’ve stopped listening. I pay attention to the various voicings in each hand. Germaine, my teacher in France taught me this, to define each line within a chordal left hand part for example, to connect the notes and hear and SING the individual lines. I can still play many of the pieces I learnt with her mostly from memory. This brings me to muscle memory, a vital element in practice and performance. What I mean is feeling the gaps between the fingers (inversions), the jumps, left and right hand coordination, how to remember the music by encouraging the body to FEEL it. It is physical and emotional work. And it’s as much fun as I make it.

The metronome soon becomes my close ally again and sets me on the right track. Slowly but surely I will get there and my aim is to feel as though the music belongs to me, that I know it intimately. I often get discouraged during the learning process - this is normal and I know I just have to keep going, or take a break and let the music in. When I feel like this, I remind myself to focus on how I want to feel in the rehearsal and concert, to focus on the music and the performance. Visualisation and meditation are really useful here. I’ve suffered from performance anxiety in the past, and sometimes I still do. It passes as soon as I get into the music. I’ve learnt to manage it and it isn’t destructive anymore. It helps if I have practiced well and offered myself plenty of anchors in my preparation to keep me from going adrift.

Time for some practice. Not on the piano.

Edinburgh International Festival

                                       Siegfried - 8/8/18

I'm just back from a couple of days in Scotland performing with the Hallé at the Edinburgh International Festival.  I had my first experience of this iconic event last Summer when I was one of six harpists involved in a concert performance of Berlioz's sublime operatic masterpiece The Damnation of Faust given by the same orchestra under their inspirational music director Sir Mark Elder.  It was a memorable performance with some spectacular singing.  Sir Mark has a knack for sourcing outstanding vocal produce and this year, Siegfried was no exception.  After a stonking show in June, our memories rejigged from a rehearsal in Manchester, my musical exodus started on Monday afternoon when I drove up to Carlisle after the morning session.  With a 2.30 rehearsal on Tuesday afternoon at the beautiful Usher Hall in the heart of the city, and in light of having to "take" that motorway again, I booked a night at a hotel to minimise the risk of arriving late.  

The good, the bad and the downright ugly

I got to my car just before it got towed.  Luckily for me, Scottish traffic wardens are remarkably human and humane - it was just a caution, and still only £30 if I got stung, maybe cheaper than parking?  No wonder I need dark delights and I can safely say these prunes get 9 out of 10

Last year's experience was made slightly traumatic when I couldn't find parking by the hall after unloading my harp and I struggled to negotiate the narrow downward spiral of the claustrophobic multi storey car park through tears of frustration despite arriving very early for a sectional rehearsal with the man himself.  Not this year.  Oh no Edinburgh, I was onto you.  Being early and well tuned and prepared is a must in a scenario involving five other harpists and a knight.  There was no sectional this time, and despite a tight get in window (it busily boasts the status of international festival with good reason), I was on time, rested, fed and caffeinated.

The luxury of driving

means I can pack quite a lot of home comforts including my Pilates mat and bands and 2 days worth of food.  And my cherished pillow

My heart plummeted when I arrived at my halfway hotel.  Despite requesting a ground floor room when I booked, I was on the first floor with no lift.  The helpful apologetic receptionist ran me through my options - I was early enough to be moved to a ground floor room.  Anxious at the thought of being separated from my harp for all of 12 hours, plan A was ditched after I saw the disused leisure centre that had enjoyed a previous life as an important hub within the brand consistent hotel.  There was a pool!  It looked enticing in its state of disrepair.  I was told there was also a sauna and steam room.  Reception and I agreed that it could be the Tebay of UK hotels with a travellers' spa but as is often the case with dream projects, it's complicated.  I'm not sure if it's the thought that it might have been humid in there, or if it was a bit of jealousy at imagining Kite having a better time than me plunging pedals first into cool water followed by a session sweating it off swathed in nothing but a towel, but I couldn't bring myself to abandon her even though it seemed secure.  Besides I like sleeping with my harp occasionally.  She's surprisingly quiet and low maintenance - she'd only inaudibly popped her top G by the time we got to Edinburgh.

My scenic drive up from Carlisle through the imaginatively named villages of Carlops and Dolphinton kept my mind from boredom and was uneventful.  I passed Manor Garage which I managed to get my car to when the exhaust broke on that very same stretch of road a few years back on my way to work in the big city.  They miraculously fixed it while I waited and I was on time for the seating rehearsal.  Needless to say, I pulled over as soon as I could to book its service for next week.  My sister suffered the misfortune of a blown engine recently after forgetting to check the oil.  I'm paranoid about checking my tyres, and I can now add oil to my list of concerns.

Dicky!

showing off his jauntily creative side with a clever selfie angle.  People - the brighter side of touring.  

After a non stop busy day, my body a bit achy and in the mood for a quiet night in, I headed away from the festival bustle to the nearest pub for a slap up dinner.  I felt like part of the crowd ordering their stiffest Virgin Bloody Mary and coughed reassuringly at the kick of heat to the back of my throat.  My tastebuds were tantalisingly teased and tickled by salt and pepper squid and Kaarage chicken and I tried Katsu sauce and mooli for the first time.  9 out of 10 for the food, and being on my own wasn't an issue either.  The waitress and I were soon creased with belly laughs as we compared notes on our sugar addictions.  An attractive svelte European blessed with a stunning sparkly smile and a personality to match her looks, her poison was a cookie, lots of them by the sounds of it.  Each to their own.  If you're in Edinburgh and want some excellent food away from the madding crowds, I can recommend the Salisbury Arms very highly - great service and no funny looks for dining solo.

Narrow escape

After 2 delicious starters including the delightfully named Kaarage chicken in a nice pub by the halls, the waitress insisted on showing me the dessert menu.  Was she trying to kill me?  I narrowed it down to three and didn't have any.  They didn't open until midday so I definitely couldn't go back and have them for breakfast

The 20 minute rehearsal and subsequent 5.5 hour performance flew past, well it would as we harps were only in Acts 1 and 3.  I felt the urge to be social but, having had a scant 4 hours' sleep, the urge to honour an appointment in my car for a snooze was stronger, and I made my polite excuses not to join my harp colleagues for dinner.  Fortunately I woke up in time to eat my healthy chicken and kale rainbow salad, a workout for my mouth taking the best part of twenty minutes, that's how much fibre was packed into that plastic container.  Can you imagine going all the way up to Edinburgh and missing Act 3?

Baby tubas

My turn to get creative with those horns.  Most things look artistic through harp strings

There was a really good energy in the hall, a Festival vibe if ever I felt one, and I relished people watching when I wasn't engrossed in the indulgent magnitude and intimacy of Wagner's epic music.  The rapt expressions I glimpsed in the audience reflected the quality of the pared down production and world class singing.  Christine Goerke made for a beautiful bellowing Brünnhilde filling the hall with her powerful soprano, and my guess is she must have sung that role quite a few times - how else could she have embraced the challenge of such terse rehearsal and given a display of vocal wizardry with grace, ease and a warm generosity that captivated our audience?  Simon O'Neill was as good as he was back in June in Manchester, and I noticed he occasionally referred to an iPad, a sign of the times.  A hearty robust rambunctious Siegfried with the stamina of an ox, it's a role that suits him perfectly. The rest of the cast, conductor and orchestra were on top form too, playing with endurance, vibrant passion and élan.  A special mention goes to the Woodbird's gold sequinned white denim jacket ornate with eye catching sparkles that would have hypnotised a magpie.  I shook my head with disbelief several times at the sheer beauty of what my ears often couldn't register.  Some truly outstanding musicianship took place that night.

Comforting symmetry

My view when I turned around in Usher Hall.  There were quite a few Wagner fans sitting in those cushionless classroom pews for around 4 hours.  I considered myself heroic for lasting an hour and a half on a piano stool in Act 1

No sooner than you could say Siegfried, it was time to up sticks with the controlled dash that packing a huge orchestra into a truck and two coaches entails, and before I knew it, I was on the road again.  Unwilling to negotiate another round of parking, lifts and corridors only to decamp again a few hours later and lose a whole day travelling, I didn't spend a second night in halls.  

Right under Arthur's Seat

Great name, location and breakfast.  Bloody minded canteen attendant

Best coffee in Edinburgh

My best efforts couldn't get me a decent coffee on campus at 7am.  I got some exercise walking to the local shop where I was warmly served my hand stirred brew in my travel mug by lovely Ali shivering in front of his fridges 

Right under my nose

The Commonwealth Pool, closed until 14 August, so no early morning swimming session

Having carefully planned my route the old school way and avoiding the long drive involving a ferry crossing to Ireland which my satnav humorously initially suggested, I finally got some sense from it and went down the East side of the country, not quite the coastal route and I had the roads to myself as I crossed the rivers of Tyne, Tweed and Blackadder.  No kidding.  Google it.  After just over an hour I started drifting even though I was fuelled by an energy drink.  Sensing danger, I blearily parked up in Coldstream and tried to get in the zone for a quick nap.  Fifteen minutes later I set off again only to be overcome by another strong bout of insomnia after half an hour.  This time I stopped in a lay-by in deepest darkest who knows where.  I hacked away at my imagination's most ghastly ghouls and zombies crawling up the bonnet of my car to rudely peer in at my slumber before eventually getting a decent amount of shuteye in the tranquil pitch black setting.  That got me just past Newcastle with greater ease but I started to drift again. Back in civilisation, I stopped at the services and had a good hour of deep sleep under my blanket supported by the comfort of my pillow.  If you've never slept with a harp in the back of your car, I can tell you it's quite an art to cosy up.  A few spine and leg stretches in the facilities helped get my circulation going again and there's something to be said for 24 hour services and the friendliness of the people who make them happen.  Maybe they get extra money for doing the early shift.  Probably not, but they should.

First breakfast

taken at 4.29 am and washed down with a strong flat white, it kept me tapping my feet and gently headbanging intentionally to Ben Folds down the A1

Boosted by even more caffeine, off I went accompanied by the lively strains of Ben Folds.  A fabulous pianist, lyricist, vocalist and tunesmith, I can't recommend Best Imitation of Myself strongly enough as a great soundtrack for a long drive.  His songs are quite literally food for thought.  Check out Philosophy below which is worth watching for all of almost 6 minutes if only for his witty repartee with Jools:

I wouldn't want to tune his pianos.  With too many catchy numbers to list here, there's also Gracie, a most poignant father/daughter tribute.  Rockin' the Suburbs is a tongue in cheek number with a few swear words thrown in for good measure.  I was The Luckiest (another BFF classic beauty) when I had the good fortune to be part of the orchestra for a Ben Folds concert in Bristol a few years back.  A previously unknown entity, I was immediately hooked by his dazzling dexterity as he more often than not stood up to play his beloved piano.  His professionalism and the energy of his performance resonated with me as well as his engagement with his loyal audience - he  held them in the palm of his talented hands as they sang along with us.  Ben came to France with me when I drove there and back a couple of years ago so he's really made the distance and I know I can count on him for future journeys.  Rufus is overdue an airing, though the track for my next long car trip will probably involve some work related Puccini - I love combining business and pleasure.

At 4.29 the cones were just being lifted after they'd closed part of the A1.  A near miss.  At 5.17 I passed Temple Newsam and knew I was on the home stretch.  It was a doddle from there.  Slightly jet-lagged and hyperactively exhausted from my Scottish sojourn, I realised that almost all I've written about in this post is driving and car related.  Unfortunately it goes with the territory.  The time I spend with my harp actually enjoying my music is all too rare these days and I intend to change that during the next few months.  A promise I made myself in Scotland was a week off, which is swiftly dwindling to a few days as more distractions start flooding in, some of them welcome, others less so.  One of the biggest challenges we freelancers face is time management, and planning holidays is something I need to learn to incorporate into my life.  So if it's silence from me for a few days, I apologise but I have to create some breathing space.  Another promise is to dip my toes in sea and sand.  I always keep my promises.

Balancing act

All six of us closet sugar fiends, we were each offered a gift by Principal Harp Marie from the most amazing macaroon shop in the city, Madame Macaron.  Sugared out from the 3 I oohed over after lunch (pistachio, beautiful blue lavender without a hint of Zoflora, and peanut butter and chocolate), I saved mine for my post dinner ritual on Thursday night.  It tasted even better garnished and for travelling all the way from Scotland

Detox

In an attempt to manage my anxiety, I'm going coldish turkey next week.  If it helps, where can I get decaf coffee beans?

Welcome home!  The sky at 6.23 on the morning of my return to Yorkshire.

A beautiful heroine

Missing from this week's performance - I would have loved to see her and she would have LOVED Siegfried!  We shared the same inspirational teacher, mentor and close friend and like minded ally, Eira

Clonter Opera

Clonter

Rose Garden

I'm enjoying a fantastic busy fortnight working at Clonter Opera in deepest darkest sunniest Cheshire.  I remember hearing the name Clonter with some fascination as an undergraduate student at the RNCM and I do have a strong sense of déjà-vu, although my memory won't stretch quite that far back.  Hailed by some as the Glyndebourne of the North, Clonter is a fantastic endeavour for singers seeking to gain experience of some of the core operatic repertoire and it boasts strong links with the RNCM.  If it wasn't for the signage you would be forgiven for mistaking Clonter for just another Cheshire dairy farm.  My drive to work past droves of cows lolling along their well-hooved path from pasture to parlour with bovine discipline is proof of the terrain.  In effect, it is an opera theatre in a barn.  How cool is that?  You can find out more about Clonter's fascinating creator Jeffery Lockett and his brainchild by copying this into your browser: https://www.clonter.org/about-clonter/jeffery-lockett/

Workplace welcome

The tree lined driveway and its neighbouring maize fields.  Not a parking meter in sight

I arrived bright and early last Saturday morning and had a quick car catnap in the quietest car park you could ever imagine before polishing off my breakfast, having been warmly greeted by Chief Executive Isabella and her faithful companion Cedar the spaniel who, in her tenth year, seems to be something of a Clonter legend.  Isabella is a legend in her own right of course.   One of three Lockett daughters, she ensures the smooth running of the Clonter Farm Music Trust along with her siblings.  I unloaded my harp after being shown the best route into the pit (what, no lift?!) and was helped by another stalwart Clonter personage who goes more than the extra mile to ease all things backstage, the lovely Mel.  A natural multitasker, she assumes her role as Production Manager and Stage Manager with the greatest of ease, and I remember her from my more recent RNCM postgrad days.  As my colleagues arrived, I felt reassured to see some familiar faces and the new ones proved very friendly - there's a genuine sense of camaraderie in the pit.

With three consecutive six hour rehearsal days kicking off at 10am, and to break down the driving, I stayed over one night at one of the nicest most peaceful hotels I've ever experienced!  I slept like one of the trunks outside my window.  Everything about Cheshire screams bucolic idyll.

Room with a view

over woodland and a stream

In keeping with my healthy eating plan, I took my own food most days but on Sunday night, I enjoyed the luxury of a naughty chocolatey indulgence.  I'm sure I play better when I've had my cocoa fix:

Sunday

Naughtily virtuous supper treat, it was really good and luckily still fresh

I've played in quite a few productions of La Bohème and this is an interesting experience in that it's the chamber version scored for just thirteen lucky players.  Unsure what to expect, I wasn't disappointed - the luscious plenitude and delicate intimacy of Puccini's delicious timeless score remains the feast it was the first time I savoured it some twenty years ago.   

Vibrato!

First page of my well thumbed beloved Bohème part

I'm one of the luckiest - some of my colleagues have never played Bohème before and devoid of a bigger section of the same instrument playing the same part, I marvel at their skill in managing the negotiation of such a difficult score overflowing with vertiginously tricky corners that just has to be known by heart.  How would you explain the broad spacious freedom that is key to Puccini's music?  Performing with guts, gusto and increasing swagger, the band sounds impressive in spite of, or possibly due to its reduced forces.  It feels great to be unofficially part of a section and I'm perched next to the cello with bass behind just to my left and violins directly in front, and the woodwinds and percussion are facing us on the opposite side for a change.  It works.  I'm so used to hearing the winds that it's great to hear the string parts with such clarity.  That's one of the best things about a lengthier project like this.  We've already had 18 hours rehearsal and both dress rehearsal and opening night are now behind us.  It's been way too long since I relished the indulgence of a long sequence of rehearsals - every time I get into that pit I hear something new as I start to feel more relaxed about my part in the whole process.  I love that, when I get to that stage where I feel so comfortable with it.  I'm not quite there yet and I will always have a bit of practice to do to deepen my knowledge of and refamiliarise myself with a part that is so well written that it falls easily and comfortably under the feet and fingers.  It's like meeting up with an intimate old friend again after quite a few years.  I'm probably the oldest one in the pit except our seasoned conductor, Clive.  He has over forty performances of Bohème under his belt and thus a very clear idea of what he wants.  In guiding the full voiced exceptionally talented budding cast past the pitfalls of what can be a treacherous piece, he can be a hard task master in what is clearly a beloved work.  He certainly kept us on our toes in rehearsal!

Intimate

Great to be beside the woodburning stove again

I do have a very soft spot for opera and one of the things I enjoy most is walking in through the backstage area past an enviable array of intriguing props and equipment.  Cue Mel and her team.  The oysters look toxically tasty and there will be snow in July.  As for the beverages, I'm not giving anything away.  Designer Grace Venning has conceived an imaginative atmospheric sepia hued traditional set and costumes and there's an intoxicating Frenchness about the entire production that leaves me with a feeling of peering into the shared accommodation of impoverished students in the gods of Parisian gables with their sublime voices and warm hearts as their only riches.   The set transforms miraculously into the breezy atmosphere of Café Momus for Act 2.  Jiggling old school light bulbs suspended from what look like a very basic piñata dangling from the ceiling remind me of the importance of lighting and I'm amazed at what can be achieved on what must be a shoestring budget by operatic standards with the clever creative skill of continental lighting designer Petr Vocka.  It's difficult to tear my eyes from the stage which I can see very clearly, and that brings me to the other reason I love Puccini operas - I rarely put my harp down.  He uses the harp with such variety of colour and precision that it's always a privilege to be offered a chance to perform in any of his masterpieces.  Thanks to the genius of Puccini's "verismo", there shouldn't be a dry eye in the house.      

At Clonter, the ambience is easily intimate and there's a convivial family feel to everything, from the homely meals offered on rehearsal days featuring the most amazing sausage roll I ever tasted to the mouth watering cakes I managed to resist until Wednesday night.  It was the dress rehearsal and we were all warmly invited to supper afterwards.  I had some delicious potatoes and a cheeky slice of baguette, not a continental prop I hasten to add.  And I succumbed to the heavenly fruity meringue, but not the freely flowing wine, which I was told was excellent.  Despite elegantly taking my leave Cinderella style to face my long drive home, it was really good to go and get to know my pit, onstage and offstage colleagues a bit better and find out more about this amazing place.  

Gateway

to pool nirvana

Oh, and I did it, my long awaited pool dive.  I managed to contain my exuberant enthusiasm until day two when we had a longer lunch break.  It didn't disappoint.  I tried to enthuse a couple of my colleagues who were quite rightly curious about the moves I'd learnt in my Aquafit classes, but I don't think I'll be giving up my day job...

Siegfried - just a quickie!

Sparks flew this evening at the end of Act 1 as Nothung (Siegfried's sword) was forged - that's the bit when we play.  After an hour and a quarter of uninterrupted music.   There's something about sitting there almost invisibly that brings out some sort of ultra sweary kicking screaming Tourettes in me at the very beginning,  I guess it's just the idea of the length of time.  It passes quickly as I get into the music.  So does almost everything else.  I really loved the performance - the heavy stomping of the giants' music, and I thought the musical pacing at the end of the Act was superb.

Today's other achievements:

Going to the shop for supplies on my way to the car after playing, walking through the booze section and not buying any.  Getting Jersey Royals as a special treat instead.  (Who am I?  I don't recognise myself..!)

Being in touch with my physical urge for movement when I got in and indulging in a 45 minute Pilates session in my attic haven (heaven?)  

It's been just great to have a busy harp week - music is one of my favourite means of anaesthetising.  I'm tired and I need a day off and if I can get through my Monday morning rehearsal, I can chill out a bit.  I'm feeling a bit emotional about tomorrow night, it's a big one for me with Brünnhilde's sumptuous thawing out music.  Aroused by her brother (no comment) Siegfried's kiss, she disencrusts herself from her heroic slumber accompanied by our skyward arabesques.  I hear the twinkling of her eyelids and there's an intense power in six harps playing together oh so quietly.

Final achievement - getting to bed before midnight again.

Powerful words from meditation today

Saturday - Siegfried Acts 1 & 2

This morning began by unveiling my mobile from its grainy bed for the night.  On my drive down to Manchester yesterday a sheep accompanied by its only-slightly wiser friend decided to cross the road in front of my swiftly moving car and it was just a couple of seconds away from an unthinkable fate.  In the process of braking to dodge it whilst only too aware of the vehicle very close to my rear, I spilt some of my freshly brewed coffee.  The sheep lived to safely graze another day.  It was a while after my white knuckle experience before I realised the coffee had spilt on my phone.  Everything works except I have to put it on speaker to take or make calls.  With my lack of technical aptitude, I'm praying I won't need to get a new one.  The thought of syncing and downloading new apps makes me want to cry.  In phoning myself I also had the heart sinking realisation my answer machine doesn't work.  Ha!

Yesterday was a 3 hour patching session for the live recording demanding silence, focus and nerves of steel.  I've become so well acquainted with my nearby microphone on its steely spindly stand due to its presence all week that I don't notice it anymore, and as we began the intense takes I realised we hadn't actually rehearsed it to death.  With the heightened atmosphere I dropped out of 2 small sections - sometimes it's wiser to do this rather than f**k it up for everyone and I think this is one of the reasons Wagner demanded 6 harps.  Despite being a bit of a megalomaniac I'm sure he had a human side too.  I can tell you which bits I'm going to practice first today!  In the shrinking down process I remembered a technique that helped me play as one with my colleagues - to breathe together and visualise almost becoming them.  Quite a lot of body language can help with this.  It's a technique that has worked well for me in the past especially when the beat is organic and musical and stretchy and even more so when I was sitting in the back row, and when I do it well it can be really draining.  I'm going to practice that this morning.  As I was polishing off my sunny apricot in the break, a million miles away in my thoughts, someone asked how my week was going.  I looked up to see it was Sir Mark.  Caught unawares without a script, I annoyingly found myself coming out with the biggest pile of tripe followed by a succinct statement which I think conveyed exactly how my week is going!  As an outsider it's interesting to see the close rapport and trust between orchestra and conductor.  There is no dress rehearsal.  I observed his manner with us all week and he certainly knows how to get me to want to do more than my best.  He shows respect and empathy, and although he (incredibly, under the circumstances) only very occasionally gets impatient, it's all for the music.  I wish I had his seemingly bionic ears!  He quite rightly treats the singers like royalty cajoling them into taking risks with breathtaking results.  His sensitivity and understanding make me wonder if he trained as a singer, or is he just outstandingly good at his job?  It's pretty awe inspiring to work on this level.

I felt a weight lift off me as I saw the distant hills and I love going to work in hustling bustling Manchester and by the same token, I love getting back home to the tranquillity of my rural idyll. This tropical heat suits me fine and I was amused that it was 7-8 degrees cooler in Meltham.  I planned my evening as I drove past beautiful rhododendron walls, abundant laburnum vines and the vibrant hot sunburst of flaming azaleas.  I didn't see many souls at the top on the moors and the dandelion like cotton wool ball wild shrubs are back.  I wanted to practice but was too tired so I opted for a cup of tea in my yard, phone crisis management, getting supper ready, a gentle walk round the block with YT (Llwyd),  a bit of weeding, and regaining some order in my house.  A rare occurrence - I was in bed before midnight.

Coffee flavoured rice anybody?

That Friday Feeling on a Thursday

Although it was officially a day off, yesterday was full on and by the time I'd done all my stuff, I had a window of about an hour and a half for practice.  This is my challenge, to shrink it all down into less time.  As I began I instinctively closed my sheet music and played the first 2 pages slowly from memory just to see what would happen.  I was pleasantly surprised that it was correct, so by going with my gut rather than practice in a certain prescribed way, I was able to save a lot of time and work efficiently without falling into my customary trap of "it's all s**t".  I'm one of those musicians who loves practicing (at one stage I loved it more than I did performing) and would gladly spend all day befriending each note, rolling them around in my fingers and ears.  Unfortunately practice doesn't pay the mortgage, and it doesn't make perfect either, actually.  As I worked through my music, I identified any danger areas, hesitations and issues that had arisen on Tuesday.  Knowing what sort of sound is required (even notes with no "ping" on the last note of the arpeggios - that can be hard when you're playing with gusto) helps narrow things down.  I'm always fascinated with the process between accepting work and the end result.  It often feels to me like that humungous exotic splurge of notes is never going to come together, and I love those final days before a performance and the conciseness they bring.  Personal practice is insular by definition and I like the shift in focus from home work to sectional to the spectacular moment when I'm allowed to join in with all the others.  It feels like a big musical shindig!

Practice shoes.  I left my concert shoes in Manchester and it was chilly yesterday so, hot socks (not sunburn).  I dream of a world where unique footwear is part of the dress code 

After practice I headed to the pool for my exercise fix, and every time I go I jump in further and further towards the deep end - it's the only way I can do it now, none of this tip-toeing down the steps nonsense.  Besides, if I jumped in the shallow end I might do myself an injury!  I usually go on a Tuesday and Thursday but could only fit in Wednesday this week, and it was a different instructor.  She scared me from word go!  I think they have to be quite shouty to be heard above the frantic torso-thrashing splashing and energetic music and it takes me a couple of sessions to get into an instructor's groove so to speak.  I just couldn't get into the rhythm at all, I felt no flow.  The class was full and I was too close to two women who were yakking away all the way through the class - how can they do the moves and talk?!  After 20 minutes I was wishing it was over and I kept looking at the clock.  I'm still glad I went - it's never easy but the long-lasting feel-good factor afterwards is worth the effort AND there was the added bonus of a hot bloke sitting waiting for the next class as I got out...  Hmmm.  I might go again next Wednesday.

Today felt a bit strange in that we were only required for the first half of the morning rehearsal and the same in the afternoon.  This meant that we played around 10 bars in total at the end of Act 1, I could count the notes but I'm not going to, not many in any case.  Feast or famine.  Not a single pedal change.  Not to worry - Wagner more than makes up for it in Act 3.  My back feels much better tonight.  I took 3 seat pads with me to see if I could resolve my chair height issue but it still didn't feel high enough.  Shy bairns get nowt and as I enquired about the possibility of using a piano stool for the performances, those lovely orchestra attendants soon provided me with an unusually spare cello chair which made all the difference.

It was good to have an early finish and I'm enjoying some time catching up at home - I feel a bit tired and in need of a creative feed and as a night owl, as early a night as I can muster.  My spirits were raised when I spotted yours truly in the garden when I got in (WARNING - the following footage contains scenes of a feline nature):

See what I mean about her tail making an umbrella handle shape?  Almost a fortnight after her tests she's looking much better and has filled out thank goodness.  

AND I nailed the online parking!

The only way is up - the architectural contrasts of central Manchester.

"Siegfried!"

"Richard Wagner composed his well known Ring Cycle in blah blah blah"...  Some of you reading that opening sentence might think the Rhian you know and love has been abducted by aliens and replaced by some fake harpist.  I am in no way an authority on the Ring but I'm becoming an authority on me and what makes me tick and I like writing about my experience, and hopefully it's a good enough read for musicians and non-musicians alike.  My use of language in that sentence isn't florid enough either!

Yesterday was my first day of rehearsal for Siegfried.  Excluding time spent travelling , hanging around and eating I worked out I was sitting for over 8 hours yesterday.  I felt like the princess and the pea as I tried in vain to customise my not-quite-high-enough chair with harp covers and clothing.  Still better than a backless music bench.  Today my lower back is a bit painful (shoulders surprisingly ok though) and I was ecstatic when I managed to book myself into Aquafit last night when I got in after my long day.  I can't wait to jump into the chilly water and bounce around like a lunatic, and I get excited as I walk to the pool and smell the irresistible chemical chlorine wafts.  To whoever cancelled - thank you!

It was a long day on slightly too little sleep - I had to get ALL my ironing done on Monday night, not just what I needed, and sort my food for the next few days.  I set off 45 minutes later than the time I'd set myself - I'd left 3.5 hours for a journey that takes an hour on a good day but seeing as I needed to pack what seemed like most of the contents of my home into my car after I'd completed my morning routine, it was just enough time not to be rushing.  After I deposited my harp in the hall and worked out yet another online parking system, I had to move my harp again as the sectional was taking place upstairs.  I still had enough time.  After all that mental psych-up it was the lovely knowledgeable and helpful Jonathan taking the rehearsal and it was a great way to ease into this project, and it was a much appreciated gesture when Sir Mark popped in briefly to greet his section.  After we had put the Wagner harp world to rights, off we trundled with our precious convoy down into the main hall.  We are in a lovely position right at the back and though it feels far away from the conductor, it's an ideal vantage point, towering above the orchestra (in my mind) alongside both sets of timpani and behind our buddies the horns.  There's a lot of those too - Wagner certainly wasn't a minimalist.  Despite the serious nature of rehearsals, it's a relief to break the often intense atmosphere with a dash of humour, and you can guarantee innocently complicit eye contact with at least one of those cheeky horn players as the conductor instructs us to start at everyone's favourite number...  Then lunch.  It was a beautiful day and following a colleague's suggestion I headed for the canal where I found a black metal bench to eat my picnic.  Then time for a coffee in my own travel mug which always garners compliments (it's bright pink of course).   We started Act 3 and assumed our positions for the next few days.  The familiarity of Wagner's sound world in the menacingly creeping and exciting opening bars was comforting as it built to its first thundering climax within the first 3 minutes, and I was more often than not distracted from my to-do list by the amazing auditory feast laid out before my ears.  Wagner just seems to be able to paint the world in his music if that makes sense.  Those music-gasms started again as I heard some quietly spectacular playing that just drew my ear in and I didn't want it to stop.  Those swathes and washes of divine sound.  I'm relieved I still have that passion for orchestral playing!

My thoughts drifted to my last experience of Siegfried and I had flashbacks of how it was in Leeds Town Hall.  If I'm honest it wasn't the best experience for me, mainly due to the position of the harps.  We were on the opposite side of our usual position within the orchestra and stuck right at the back, so it almost felt like we were separate from the rest of the orchestra.  It was like playing blindfolded with earplugs.  No wonder my nerves were frayed after 3 months.  I felt I couldn't trust what my senses were telling me.  Add to that the fact I was on the back row of harps tucked away in the furthest corner (there is a particular name for this position in the music world) and you can imagine my frame of mind and maybe understand why it put me off orchestral playing a bit.  No matter what solution we suggested or tried (monitors, plinths...), we were never going to come up trumps in that venue.

So it's a breath of fresh air to revisit this fabulous piece again and yesterday felt like a healing experience as I felt my confidence grow as I started to play like I play.  Brünnhilde (Brown Hilda or Hilda Brown, either way it doesn't translate well in my mind, and YES, I know it means armoured battle maiden) is amazing!  Like many a Brünnhilde, she's blonde and petite and has quite a pair lungs on her - wow!  As is often the case when I'm working, I'd like to be on the other side of the conductor so I could fully experience the impact of her voice but it's something special, I know that.  As for Sir Mark and the orchestra, I just love the generous spaciousness he gives the music and the loving attention with which he caresses each line and phrase.  It feels very organic and as he is healthily meticulous about every detail, it's a satisfyingly joyous challenge to work with him.  I wish I had his ears.  In the section we are an interesting mix of 4 blondes and 2 redheads - I'm just talking about the colour of our harps there by the way!  Possible token harp section photo coming soon...!  It's a lovely section with a good energy.

With the drowsiness that came at the end of what was our second rehearsal of three, I decided to go for a stroll along the canal (see below).  That's one of the things I love about Manchester - you're never a million miles away from water or some greenery and wildlife if you take a minute to look.  I went back to the empty changing room and nabbed the cosiest armchair, put on my sunglasses and went elsewhere for 10 minutes.  That's all it takes and I'm quite proud I've mastered the art of the power nap in a relatively public place.

Today will be a quiet day practicing, resting and preparing for what I think will be a spectacular performance this weekend...  Get your tickets now!

In the heart of Manchester - my momentary companions on my canal stroll

My heart sank for an instant when I got back to my car.  When I checked, I'd put the make of my vehicle where I should have put the registration...  How many Mazda sixes could there have been on that street yesterday anyway?!?

Harpist Roles

As a harpist my job can be very solitary and I quite like that.  Much of the time orchestral writing only involves one harp so it's a novelty to work alongside someone else.  As a freelancer I need the flexibility to embrace more than one role as I'm often invited to play as guest principal or second harp and other times as part of a bigger section.  I have to be adaptable enough to embrace each role while maintaining my personality - playing first harp demands great leadership skills, and being a team player as second harp or part of a section is fundamental to the success of any performance.  I like to think I'm good at both.  I have a strong personality so leadership comes naturally, and I like to think I'm easy to get on with and I have a good sense of humour.  I am also flexible when needs be - I don't like being told I'm wrong (who does?!!) but I'm good at taking stuff on board and accepting constructive criticism.  I have a good bulls**t detector too and I have pretty acute instincts when someone is messing with me and when it's their stuff that's being thrown around - that can be harder to deal with.

As I resumed my process of preparation for my harp week next week by posting on social media and listening to the opera I'm going to be performing, I felt a sense of calm fall over me.  I haven't had time to practice or play since last Monday, and as I experienced several music-gasms as I listened to Wagner's inimitable masterpiece, I felt reassured that everything was going to be alright, that I can still play the harp.  Obviously I need to go for it with my practice this weekend but it's manageable. I have performed Siegfried several times, most recently as part of Opera North's epic project 2 summers ago.  If I'm absolutely honest, it was tough to keep inspired for 3 months of performing the same four operas seven times, and the night away in a 5* hotel for my birthday and this life changing laptop as rewards made it all the more worthwhile.  I survived a week in London (well, Greenwich, but the lovely flat we rented was on the 11th floor...  Aaarghhhh!!!!) for goodness sake!  As an outskirts-of-a-village dweller, this was a huge achievement!

As I listened I recalled the many magic moments this music offers so generously.  Erda's earth-shaking urgently sinister menaces and warnings, the rudely robust Siegfried's boisterous playfulness, Brünnhilde's sumptuous loving tribute to naughty Siegfried...  Or is it Wotan?  I sometimes forget!  Anyway, if past performances with the Hallé are anything to go by, I'm in for a treat!

Having been part of many a harp section in the past, you could ask my opinion on what makes a great team!  It starts by knowing my role.  In this section I am harp 5 and I'm very happy with that.  It means there's slightly less pressure than if I was harp 4 (or 1 or 2) which I was last time I played it.  The biggest challenge I find is actually playing together as a tight section - it can be really difficult to hear each other and relying on visual and even auditory aids can be risky, everything is so changeable from sectional to full rehearsal and concert.  The deeper we go into the rehearsal process, the more elements we can add as performance anchors.  Luckily we are only playing it at the Bridgewater Hall - my last experience involved 5 different venues.  So flexibility is very important.  We also get a good amount of rehearsal time, starting with a harp only sectional on Tuesday morning.  This can be intimidating (please be kind Sir Mark!) but ultimately is very helpful in getting us to gel together and become familiar with what all six of us are doing.  Personally it ensures I'm super prepared, ideally to the point of memorising my music - that's what I need to feel on top of things.  This morning I remembered having to sit there for about 25 minutes before our glorious spine-tingling first entry in Act 3, one that is quite fiendishly difficult as it's fast and co-ordination can be an issue when that good old adrenaline kicks in!  Feet darling!

It will be a significant occasion for me.  My first experience of a multiple-harp Wagner opera was Act 3 of Siegfried back in 2006 with the Hallé conducted by Mark Elder.  I have the photo somewhere, will dig it out.  That was one of my "WOW" musical moments soon before I returned to study in Manchester.  I was excited and petrified in equal measures by this amazing experience!  Interestingly the section looked quite similar to next week's.  One special inspirational person and mentor will be sorely missed - her name appears in blue below.  If you can't read it, it says Eira - Eira Lynn Jones!  It was, and always is, fantastic to work with her.  I had a lesson on this music in France with another profoundly influential teacher, Germaine Lorenzini alongside whom I had my first professional orchestral experience playing with the Orchestre National de Lyon.  I'll never forget listening to a recording of the C major arpeggios with her trying to work out how to best approach it.  She said it would all work out when we were with the conductor, just focus on the music!  She was right.  She was always right!  It's been reassuringly nostalgic to rediscover her trademark coloured post-its with their generous and often humorous advice in my music.  I was very lucky with my choice of teachers.

A golden rule in my book of great orchestral playing - never ever EVER mention another harpist in the precious minutes before a performance.  I don't care how mentally strong anyone is.  Whether you're principal harp of the most prestigious orchestra or 9th harp with an amateur group, NOBODY needs yet another harpist in their head just before playing.  Rant over!!!!!

As I write this, I realise it could be completely different from this, my projection of how it has been in the past!

Right, time for some practice...  

My well-thumbed Siegfried part with all my tweaks and modifications.  I SWEAR I wouldn't be able to play it if I was given a clean copy.

That legendary Valkyrie...