Free Press –
Really Terrible Orchestra
Dear Friends,
Good morning. I read one of the funniest columns in the New York Times (March 9). It’s a dream story for any musician with a sense of humor. Alexander McCall Smith is the author of the forthcoming novel “The Miracle at Speedy Motors.” I have no idea whether Smith is as bad a musician as his column suggests, but when I read it, I just howled.
As I read Smith’s column, I remembered a children’s orchestra concert that we attended. Our nephew’s daughter was 12; so were the other 60 kids. The conductor triumphantly stalked to the podium, tapped his baton for order, and signaled the orchestra to tune itself. Every player sounded whatever note he or she wanted. It was cacophony.
It was the funniest musical moment that I’ve ever had other than seeing our son’s band teacher hurling an eraser at him during an elementary school rehearsal. Ty was causing non-musical problems and in frustration, Mr. Moyer hit Ty’s baritone right in the center of the bell. Bull'e eye! Ty’s instrument was momentarily muted.
Anyway, here’s Smith’s column.
“Why should real musician- the ones who can actually play their instruments- have all the fun?
“Some years ago, a group of frustrated people in Scotland decided that the pleasure of playing in an orchestra should not be limited to those who are good enough to do so, but should be available to the rankest of amateurs. So we founded the “Really Terrible Orchestra,” an inclusive orchestra for those who really want to play, but who cannot do so very well. Or cannot do so at all, in some cases.
“My own playing set the standard. I play the bassoon, even if not quite the whole bassoon. I have never quite mastered C-sharp, and I am weak on the notes above the high D. In general, I leave these out if they crop up, and I find that the effect is not unpleasant. I am not entirely untutored, of course, having had a course of lessons in the instrument from a music student who looked quietly appalled while I played.
“Most of the players in the orchestra are rather like this; they have learned their instruments at some point in their lives, but have not learned them very well. Now, such people have their second chance with the Really Terrible Orchestra.
“Some of the members were very marginal musicians, indeed. One of the clarinet players, now retired from the orchestra for a period of re-evaluation, stopped at the middle B-flat, before the instrument’s natural break. He could go no higher, which was awkward, as that left him very few notes down below. Another, a cellist, was unfortunately very hard of hearing and was also hazy on the tuning of the strings. As an aide-memoir, he had very sensibly written the names of the notes in pencil on the bridge [of the cello]. This did not appear to help.
“Our initial efforts were dire, but we were not discouraged. Once we had mastered a few pieces- if mastered is the word- we staged a public concert. We debated whether to charge for admission.
“Or should we go to the other extreme and pay people to come? Instead, we would give the audience several free glasses of wine before the concert. That, it transpired, helped us a great deal.
“We need not have worried. Our first concert was packed, and not just with friends and relations. People were intrigued by the sheer honesty of the orchestra’s name and came to see who we were. They were delighted. Emboldened by the rapturous applause, we held more concerts, and our loyal audience grew. Nowadays, when we give our annual concert, the hall is full to capacity with hundreds of music-lovers. Standing ovations are two-a-penny.
“How these people presume to play in public is quite beyond me, wrote one critic. Well that may be so, but we never claimed to be anything other than what we are.
“Even greater heights were scaled. We made a CD and to our astonishment, people bought it. An established composer was commissioned to write a piece for us. We performed this and recorded it at a world premiere, conducted by the astonished composer himself. He closed his eyes. Perhaps he heard the music in his head, as it should have been.
“There is no stopping us. We have become no better, but we plow on regardless. This is music as therapy, and many of us feel the better for trying. We remain really terrible, but what fun it is. It does not matter, in our view, that we sound irretrievably out of tune. It does not matter that on more than one occasion, members of the orchestra have actually been discovered to be playing different pieces of music, by different composers, at the same time.
“I, for one, am not ashamed of those difficulties with C- sharp. We persist. After all, we are the Really Terrible Orchestra, and we shall go on and on. Amateurs, arise! Make a noise.”
Friends, now that’s a column and a half. I wish I could say that I wrote it.
Sincerely,
Charles Meredith