Love letter, to the English Symphony Orchestra
‘Why bother?’ Simon wanted to know, when I said that I had been asked to audition, in Worcester Cathedral no less, for the orchestra’s conductor and principal cellist.
My own view was, ‘Why not?’ (Remember: I was young, keen, and still only twenty-something.) Also, when else was I going to get to play solo cello in Worcester blinking Cathedral??
Also, I loved to drive. I rather fancied myself a pretty ace driver, to be honest. And in the late 80s — no speed cameras, no traffic to speak of — it was a genuine pleasure, to finish a concert in Malvern and then to power on home, letting the concert tension peel off of me, at speed, like the skin of an onion.
Beyond which, I was finding London a tough nut to crack. Wherever I got close, the door slammed in my face. There was even one cellist who hissed — in the Royal Philharmonic, no less — ‘Piss off back to America, why don’t you? There isn’t work enough for us BRITISH cellists these days!’ I still think of what I could have said in response. (At the time… speechless!)
And so — and so — I drove to Worcester, where I played the Haydn D major first movement, to the then-principal cello (Nick Jones) and to the founder and conductor William Boughton, and was gratified to hear, the next week, that I had made the list.
One of the first ESO gigs I got was in heavyish snow.
And yes, I was mad. I was prob. certifiably insane, given that — twice — police stopped all traffic, urging us not to drive onwards into the Malverns, but to turn back instead… nor did I have the proper tyres for the job. But it was a concert, and only three cellos… For my fatheaded twenty-something self, a duty. And, in those days pre-mobile phones, still more so.
Failing to show up was unthinkable!!!! And so… to an audience of about thirty-five doubtless freezing, Worcestershire-ites, I bloody well showed up. And bloody well played. And the fixer thanked me, brokenly, with tears in his eyes, as no other cellist had contrived to display quite such a level of stupidity. Nope. Only me.
The rest, as they say, was history. I have been cello four since about 1989.
In the 90s the ESO had a ton of work. I mean so much work that, what with my baroque cello commitments with the Hanover Band and Sir John Eliot Gardiner’s lot, the BBC Symphony and the Royal Philharmonic, I got worried I’d get dropped, I turned down so much of it. We had excellent concerts in Malvern and the local cathedrals (Gloucestershire etc.) We had foreign tours — mostly Germany — mostly conducted by Yehudi Menuhin… Have never forgotten watching the German audiences leaping to their feet as Menuhin appeared, something I have never witnessed, even with Ashkenazy and the Royal Phil.
The reason behind the German audiences’ passion was still more moving, once I discovered it. It was not that Menuhin — though a born violinist and a great soul — was a conducting genius, because he really wasn’t. Instead, he’d been the first Jewish artist willing to tour Germany, post-WWII.
A greatness of soul the German people were not about to forget.
Tours knit orchestras together, both musically and personally — the cello section especially — but the concerts locally were also a high point. For me, the ESO, then as now, always felt special. I used to drive up to the Malvern hills as day was breaking, just for the pleasure of watching the light soar over the hills… Maybe it was the Elgar connection. Maybe it was the undulating quality of light. Maybe it was Margaret Slade (read on).
Because, in the late 90s some ESO publicity whiz decided to make the connection still more personal. ESO fans were encouraged to ‘adopt’ an orchestra member. Margaret Slade — the bright, clever, eighty-something ESO supporter who picked me — was up-front and honest about why I’d got the nod, when I rashly supposed that my highly-rated by the Sunday Times debut novel (While the Music Lasts) was the reason. (I mean, I wasn’t the principal — I was only cello four, and the others still unsponsored.)
In fact, the clarinets had all been taken — she had once messed about with the clarinet — and she’d just loved the photo I had supplied of me with my baby Rachel (said ‘baby’ now doing a Ph.D at Harvard…) We both had a good laugh at that.
We hit it off instantly, and when Margaret passed, after maybe a decade of sponsoring me, I drove from Kent to Malvern to play solo for her funeral in Malvern Priory. I will always miss Margaret, and every time I pass her house, I bless her.
To be honest, when William Boughton left for the USA — not that anyone blamed him for it — it was pretty much widely assumed that the ESO was doomed.
Instead, Ken Woods miraculously appeared to salvage the situation. Combining musical flair with entrepreneurial nous, he won grants, exploited new and exciting sources of funding, commissioned thrilling new works and allowed the ESO to weather Covid with scarcely a hiccup. The orchestra has recorded works by Philip Sawyers (my personal favourite) — not to mention the brilliant Adrian Williams, David Matthews, Matthew Taylor and — another mega-highlight, but hey, I DO write quasi-19th-century fiction and his daughter Anna is one of my besties — John Joubert’s stunning opera, Jane Eyre.
So why, after decades as cello 4, and despite my massive admiration of both Ken and his cello principal, am I resigning?
1) I live in blinking Orpington, Kent, and my days of relishing taking on the M25 singlehandedly are long since passed. This is particularly so post 10 p.m., when one generally gets shoved into a single lane twice or even thrice a night. I mean, a joke’s a joke, but this one’s worn very thin.
In other words, when in the 1990s, I could be running a hot bath in two-hours-and-three-quarters, it now can take FIVE hours. Which knocks the next day’s creative writing for, um, six.
2) I’m now a novelist much more than a cellist. Those burned out days-after-the-concert-night-before now matter.
3) There are loads of younger cellists who deserve their chance to play with this wonderful orchestra. And, as my husband and I are lucky enough to live in Crete for part of every year, I’ve been obliged to turn down an embarrassing amount of work for ages. Only Ken’s good-nature would have put up with my in-and-out running over the last couple of years. In other words, I’ve gone from the only cellist to show to being the greatest cellistic no-show, lol.
And so, with a massive THANKS to Ken Woods — and to Joely Koos — a stunning section leader — to Corinne Frost equally, and to my dear Anna Joubert… and to that glorious quality of light soaring over the Malvern hills… I’m off.
Though I love you guys and I always will.
Alice
