Out of the box

Taylor Swift it wasn’t!

My better half deserves all of the credit, a few weeks ago she had spotted a flyer for a concert which was to be held in the church hall. I am not exactly shy when it comes to trying new things, but occasionally I may need a gentle nudge.

My musical taste has never been confined to one particular box, over the years it has ebbed and flowed into a multitude of styles depending on where my mind is at that juncture. For a six month period about nine years ago I spent my night shift listening to Rachmananof, there was a something in his style that resonated with me during that time.

Those determined souls who dismiss all music outside of their own taste are a narrow lot, my brother in law plays in a band that produce metal music at the extreme end of their spectrum. Personally it is not to my taste but there are many who leave his gigs having had a thoroughly happy time.

The effort required to write and arrange any piece of music is not diminished by genre. The purists would argue that a pop song cannot be compared to a mighty symphony, but from the creative depths of the person composing there is a talent expressed in notes on a page. Who is to say that Olly Murs gives less pleasure to his audience than a well performed piece of Tchaikovsky. I should say unashamedly that I like Taylor Swift, she is a very talented writer and performer and good at what she does.

The audience were cut from a different cloth than the average Saturday night concert crowd, there were no beverages on sale or anywhere present. These were a people who understood the possibility of sitting still for ninety minutes without eating or drinking. The music was eagerly anticipated and was enough to satisfy without the need for embarrassingly large receptacles of food or drink to distract the other senses.

Our compere was a lively chap who kept things moving along nicely with the scantest of introduction to each piece of music. Even when he deviated from the programme there was no explanation required or offered, he pulled it back around and made it appear that this was always the plan.

Listening to Mozart’s adagio for the Cor anglaise gave me two things,  the introduction to a new instrument and the opportunity to let the busyness of the preceding week melt away. My friend and I thoroughly enjoyed our evening, as a retired saxophonist he appreciates more than just the jazz that is his native sphere.

In a world which is obsessed with the famous it was a pleasant change to be amongst a group of performers who were pointing away from themselves. Without question the composers who wrote these pieces of music were celebrated the same as any modern chart sensation during their lifetime. But what was different on Saturday was the lack of clamouring.

Several hundred people came together to appreciate the work of another without seeking to add anything to, or subtract from it in any way. There was a genuine appreciation of both the work and the performance but nobody was seeking praise, they played and sang out of sheer pleasure.

I take the lesson from that even if it was not intentional.