Here Comes Treble: A Feast Of Music
...The ability to play music with ease at first sight is one that can be learned, and the more one sight-reads with other musicians, the easier it becomes. Being able to sight read with ease has brought huge pleasure into my life and helped me make friends wherever I’ve travelled...
Isabel Bradley tells of a glorious afternoon in Toronto when she and her husand Leon took part in a Sight Reading performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.
Leon, his sister, Gloria and I had driven from Leesburg in Florida, USA, to Toronto, Canada, to spend time with very special friends.
“…To end the holiday on a high ‘note’,” I punned as we drove, “I’ve been invited to play in a Toronto orchestra at a sight-reading session of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony!”
“What,” asked Gloria in confusion, “is ‘sight-reading’?”
“Well,” I explained, “Sight-reading is playing a piece of music for the first time; a piece that one hasn’t seen or played before.”
“Oh,” said Gloria. “But surely you know Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony? Even I know it, and I’m not a musician.”
“Of course I know it, but I’ve never seen the flute part for it, and I’ve never actually played it as a member of an orchestra. So, though I know the tune and can hum along, I will be sight-reading, as will most of the other musicians.”
The ability to play music with ease at first sight is one that can be learned, and the more one sight-reads with other musicians, the easier it becomes. Being able to sight read with ease has brought huge pleasure into my life and helped me make friends wherever I’ve travelled.
Our friends, Roland and Marion, moved to Toronto three years ago from Johannesburg, South Africa. Marion is a superb pianist; Roland plays bassoon, clarinet and French horn, all extremely well, though not all at the same time!
Ten minutes after walking through our friends’ front door, I was playing chamber music, and felt as if I’d landed in heaven. The week continued with lengthy sessions of playing music with various groups, interspersed with companionable meals, meeting our hosts’ family and friends, and attending a glorious concert given by the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. Though this orchestra sounded marvellous, the highlight for me was watching the tuba-player struggle to insert a decidedly phallic mute into his instrument.
The much-anticipated Sight Reading session of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony took place on Sunday afternoon, 30 September. Leon and Gloria accompanied us and, though neither had sung in a choir since childhood, they joined the orchestra and sang their hearts out.
Robert Raines was the conductor of this group of musicians and singers. “In the first movement of the Ninth Symphony, Beethoven declares his despair,” he said. “He can’t hear, not even his own music. What could possibly be worse for a musician and composer? We’ve all been so miserable that things just couldn’t possibly be worse…” He raised his baton, and we played a selection of phrases from the first movement.
“Next” he said, “because things couldn’t possibly be worse, Beethoven laughs at himself, at life…” A selection of phrases from the second movement followed.
“Then, he becomes introspective,” Raines continued. We played some snatches from the third movement.
“In the fourth movement, he finds acceptance of his fate. Perhaps he realised that, although he would never hear his own compositions, others would hear them, play them and appreciate them for their greatness. Generation after generation of musicians and audiences would be enthralled by the beauty he created.”
Conducted by Raines, soloists, orchestra and choir read through the joyous grand finale – Allegro Assai. There were plenty of stops and starts, a little chatter, and when I wasn’t playing my flute, I beamed with delight.
Enveloped in a glory of sound, each person at that marvellous sight-reading session gave of their best. The bass soloist, Peter Solomon, and the tenor, Andrew Hellebut, sang with gusto. Tamara Mitchell, the young soprano, had a clear and exquisite voice, soaring easily to the incredible heights demanded by Beethoven. The string players were all excellent. Roland played wonderfully on his bassoon, enjoying every note. Rebecca and Giff, the horn-players, conjured liquid gold from their instruments. Oboists Ruth and Helen played beautifully on my left. While I revelled in playing my first-flute music, the second flautist, Lana, played wonderfully on my right. Jenny heroically played the piccolo part on her flute while Bill’s clarinet-playing sounded superb behind me. The choir, including Leon and Gloria, who have minimal choral experience, sang with all their hearts, winding their tongues around the German words.
Robert Raines ran an excellent mini-rehearsal. He is a fine musician who knew the work well, knew what he wanted from the orchestra and the choir. He was cheerful and tactful. It didn’t matter at all that some instruments were missing. Marion filled in the empty bits on the piano.
During tea-time there was plenty of happy chatter as we drank fruit juice and munched on cookies.
Everyone was keen to return to the music. Soon we were seated for the performance. Once again, we summarised the first four movements, playing excerpts from each, then Robert Raines raised his baton to lead us into the finale.
It was a thrill to play this glorious music with so many excellent musicians, music with which every musician was familiar, but which many of us would never otherwise have a chance to play.
This wonderful afternoon was arranged under the auspices of an organisation called CAMMAC, (Canadian Amateur Musicians, Musiciens Amateurs du Canada). The welcoming message on the CAMMAC website (www.cammac.ca) reads:
‘The founders of CAMMAC firmly believed that playing music together creates a bond between people that transcends age, language and cultural differences.’
The reading session of the last movement of Beethoven’s Choral Symphony epitomised the aims of CAMMAC’s founding members.
It was a glorious end to a superb holiday.
Until next time, ‘here comes Treble!’
Copyright Reserved ©
Isabel Bradley
