I shall hopefully do the commentary before the New Year, but the easy bit was posting the downloads, and I thought that deserved to be done before Christmas.

So, here are the indvidual tracks or else you can download a zip file in two halves of the concert:

Exultate Singers

• Christ Whose Glory Fills the Skies
• O lux beata Trinitas

Cantores Aliquando

• If ye love me (solo Angharad Thomas)
• The Lord Bless you and keep you (solo Liz Bagshaw)
• Apache Wedding Blessing (solos Charlotte Newstead and Emma Walton)

From Missa Sanctorum Cuthberti et Ceaddae

• Gloria
• Agnus Dei

Shades of Love

• The First Day – Angharad Thomas
• The Flight – Angharad Thomas
• The Look – Sarah Taylor
• The Gift – Jenna Cooper
• The Secret – Rachel Irwin

Exultate again

• Nunc Dimittis from Bristol Service
• May the Road Rise to Meet You

Some pianists

• Tangerine Rag (Richard Johnson)
• Rhumba Rag (Oliver Condy and Nicholas Abbott)

Chrestomathy

• Romance
• Fascination
• Nocturne

Distant Songs

• Waltz
• Lament
• Tango

Five Prayers and an Alleluia

• Hymn of St Patrick
• Time’s Paces
• Prayer for Generosity
• God be in my Head
• Go forth into the world in peace
• Alleluia

Everyone

• In Paradisum
• Set me as a seal

I chose the Royal Blackbird (sometimes just known as The Blackbird) which is Irish in origin. The first stanza, which I set, is below and the full poem, with *a* version of the original melody (not actually the one I worked from), can be found here.

‘Twas on a fine morning for soft recreation,
I heard a fair lady a-making her moan,
Sighing and sobbing with sad lamentation
And crying: “My blackbird most royal is flown;
My thoughts they do deceive me,
Reflection it grieves me,
And I am abandoned with sad misery,
Yet ere death shall bind me,
As true love inclines me,
I’ll seek out my blackbird wherever he may be”.

Many thanks to Pete for suggesting it in the first place.

It’s an Irish folksong, dating back to the 1700s following the expulsion of James II from the throne in 1688. Through a layer of metaphor and symbolism, the later verses reveal an anti-English, pro-Jacobean theme which was strongly felt in Ireland at this time, particularly amongst Catholics. The clouded meaning was to disguise the sentiment so it could still be sung publicly, even in a time of oppression and persecution.

The words of the first verse don’t particularly imply this, and my musical setting of the text therefore embodies a less specific interpretation of loss, grief and despair, the blackbird being a symbol of something precious and personal, now lost. It has a hopeful ending, with a resolve to ‘seek out’ this precious thing wherever it may be.

If you wish to use it in any way, you are free to do so without restriction. Follow the download links:

• The Royal Blackbird arr. TimReader (sheet music – pdf)
• The Royal Blackbird – arr. Tim Reader (recording – mp3)

Kind thanks to the Exultate Singers for recording it last night and David Ogden for allowing me to hijack his choir :-)

Muchos gratitude to Ian also for his generous assistance typesetting it.

(I wouldn’t bother watching all 2 mins of this!)

Then we got moved on…

Then we got interviewed about it on regional TV…

Didn’t bank on all of that when I set off to play a few piano duets on College Green on Monday morning!

If you want to find out about this fabulous project take a trip to http://www.streetpianos.com/ or my elaborated thoughts on the whole debacle, I’ll be posting that over the weekend!

If pressed for my favourite 5 composers, I can state them without hesitation, and they’ve been fairly consistent for a while now.

1. Rachmaninov
2. Poulenc
3. Purcell
4. Vaughan-Williams
5. Mozart

(in no particular order)

If pushed, I could happily survive on a diet of those five composers for the rest of my life.

But then I thought… what about the next five? How would I choose my top ten?

First up – nothing German in the top 5, so we better put that right. But frankly it’s not likely to be any of the obvious choices, any of the ‘greats’. It’s not as if I don’t like Bach, Brahms and Beethoven — indeed some of their works are amongst my favourite (for example, my top-five desert island discs would include Bach B minor for sure) but I don’t like them consistently enough to give them such exalted ranking.

On the other hand, there’s Richard Strauss. He eminently fits my critieria for top-five composers. (And what is that, pray, Mr Reader?)

1. everything I already know is solid gold, can’t imagine the music not existing etc
2. new discoveries never disappoint, but enhance my approval

And therefore Strauss, with his 4 Last Songs and Der Rosenkavalier ticking box (1) and the Alpine Symphony, Metamorphosen and Tod und Verklarung ticking box (2), is in fact only narrowly edged out of my top-top five.

And then there’d have to be more English music… but how can I choose between Elgar, Finzi, Britten, Walton and Howells? Parry, even!

Well, another of my criteria is that they have to have had a wide range of music ouput. Howells therefore, with his predominantly choral ouevre probably isn’t going to make the grade. Elgar on the other hand is to me is a composer whose diversity of output – chamber, symphonies, concerti, oratories, church music – was includes some of my favourite music ever (Dream of Gerontius would join Bach B minor on my desert island discs). Granted, no opera (and how good would that have been!) unlike Britten, but then there’s no Britten that makes me jump up and down with excitement at the thought of it (gasp!).

I’m thereafter a bit stumped. Because, if this really were a desert island situation, the rest would be a gamble. For example, I feel sure that over time I will develop a love, bordering on obsession, for the likes of Stravinksy, Shostakovitch, Prokofiev and Mahler. But right now, I just don’t know enough of their music. Similarly, composers like Whitacre and Dove, if they continue in the same vein, may become a ‘great’, someone who I would gladly listen to incessantly and obsessively, but only time will tell.

And whilst I adore the renaissance composers — Palestrina, Victoria, Tallis, Weelkes, Tomkins, Byrd — it is somewhat collectively. I couldn’t truly say I prefer one to the other, not just yet anyway.

In contradiction of that however, I feel that Tim’s top ten composers should represent at least one composers from outside the classical world, and from my other musical treasure – jazz. Gershwin would be a natural choice, for in the same short lifetime of writing innumerable hummable tunes, to become revered jazz standards, he also turned his hand to music of a more ‘serious’, concert hall nature and produced a triumphant Piano Concerto (my favourite musical form). And yet, it’s not him I’m going to choose. Whilst, my final choice is hardly in the same league as the others, he stands as my current favourite of this genre. So there.

And so. The final list is:

• 6. Elgar
• 7. Richard Strauss
• 8. Cole Porter
• 9. Debussy
• 10. Shostakovich

This’ll be interesting to revisit in a few years…

Thanks to the psychiatrist’s diagnosis, she was not consigned to a lifetime of stigma and low acheivement but rather sent to dance school, from where she became a world-famous dancer, established a dance school and choreographed Cats and Phantom (amongst others), thus bringing joy to millions and making herself fabulously wealthy – and one hopes, happy – in the process.

So in today’s news, another fascinating example of how music and creativity can be a panacea. Nick Van Bloss who suffers from Tourettes resumes his career as a professional pianist with a performance at the Cadogan Hall – his first for 15 years.

Aged 11, Van Bloss discovered his symptoms – tics, vicious blinking, yelps, involuntary punching and kicking – to evaporate the moment he began playing the piano. He then pursued an intensive musical training and professional performing career until a career break in 1996. He found it too exhuasting, but now has his condition better under control.

In keeping with the Gillian Lynne story, evidence points at success at a particular endeavour not to be in spite of the condition but because of it. “Tourette’s is the fuel” he says.

But sadly most schools don’t offer children the opportunity to even try such niche activities, let alone excel at them.

How many others could turn a paralysing handicap into a virtue – if only given the chance?

- – -

I recommend reading the The Element if this sort of thing gets your mind ticking, like it does mine!

Is it just total guff or is he some kind of visionary?

Predicated on an accurate-enough observation — that choirs are a breeding ground for temptation, hormones, infidelity and betrayal (though it’s not all fun) — there was some reasonable hope that this might be a half decent, touchingly human drama.

I was wrong; it’s uniformly awful. At least this Guardian review says all you need to know about it.

But I’ll probably tune in next week anyway.

I don’t usually embed videos that will expire (“you can embed this in your blog until 7 Feb”). Task. Silly limitation but I’m putting it here anyway.

Those of you who know Ben Reid, Lucy Gaster and/or Laura Bevan — keep your eyes peeled!

I was pleased to see this same concert projected onto the screen in Millennium Square.

Whilst I’m at it with a few recent pics from iPhone:

I know it’s hard, night after night, 8 performances a week popping out top As and Bs so I wonder whether he was just tired or having a bad day.

Regular readers — both of you — will recall that I derive much pleasure attempting to pitch the top B at the end of ‘Who am I?” and the A in “Bring him home”.

(If you’re not sure what a (baritone) top B sounds like — or how electrifying — the last note of Thunderball should give you a clue =] )

If it wasn’t a one-off, without wishing to be uncharitable, one wonders why someone is cast to sing a role where many crucial notes are outside his range?

It was just disappointing because I remember the first time I saw Les Mis, on my 18th birthday, and never new people could sing that high!! It was really exciting and I’m sorry for the other youngsters who missed that thrill on Wednesday.

The other minor disappointment was Jon Robyns as Marius, though in fairness that’s largely because, for me, one man owns this role. Actually, Robyns’ singing was really good but his Will Young-esque features didn’t look Marius enough for me, and I didn’t think he played it with the same depth, conviction or awareness as Hadley all those years ago.

Otherwise, a fantastic ensemble performance of my favourite musical — I don’t think there are many West End shows that get a standing ovation nearly every time.

A final gripe, but this time about audiences. I would seem to have shared a similar experience to Stephenfry, as he points out, following his trip to see Rowan in Oliver! –

600 people went to the theatre, not to to see Oliver but to compete in a paper & chocolate wrapper rustling competition. Others came to cough

Similarly, my neighbours in Les Mis talked incessantly throughout the performance, not even in hushed tones but at conversation volume — even in the face of my hints which ranged from the polite (glancing over, leaning forward with finger in left ear) to the blunt (“ShhHHHHHhhhh!”). When I worked out that they were not English speakers it appeared that one was translating for the other I was momentarily mollified… and then promptly more indignant than before: why don’t they buy a programme or read wikipedia like everyone else who doesn’t know what it’s about? Being foreign doesn’t exempt you! Maybe it’s a cultural difference but from my travel experience, I haven’t found anywhere in the world where talking audibly during a performance is acceptable.

On Saturday, music lovers across the land began hearing the news that X-factor winner (“Alexandra”) would be releasing her competition-winning rendition of Cohen’s Hallelujah, Cowell and his associated svengali eyeing the coveted Christmas #1 spot.

Uproar.

By Monday morning, tens of thousands of apoplectic — I should say “passionate” — fans of the original — deeming the new cover a bastardisation (I can’t comment — I’ve not listened to it yet so I could write this impartially) had joined a Group — or similar — on Facebook — or similar — rallying one another to buy Jeff Buckley’s version for 79p from iTunes in a desperate bid to keep Cowell’s soulless money-spinner off the top-spot and send a resounding message that manufactured dreck will not prevail over true musicianship, talent and creativity. But Buckley’s version isn’t even on official release and the singer has has long-since (and lamentably) passed so how on earth do they expect to stop the corporate juggernaut?

Sales rocketted.

Signs (as of Thursday morning) are that Buckley will chart at #2 or #3 with Alexandra looking fairly secure in her bid for number one. In a country where Pop Idol attracts more voters than the general election this is no great surprise, but does it mean the campaign failed?

Well yes and no. I notice that Cohen’s original has also charted around the 30 mark; had fans of the song united against X-factor, rather than dividing their votes amongst their own favourite version, the Alexandra release would be under greater threat.

But this is an advertising campaign with a reach well beyond most traditional ones – and at zero cost. It is David tackling Goliath, new media tackling old, and — if not actually beating him — then giving him a damn good licking!

This is both an exciting and frightening new reality, the difference that a minority – with internet access and a passion for something – can make. Facebook and its peers have the power to influence society for good or for ill.

Where next?