Matthew Herbert: newsical genius

Every so often something happens which makes me pinch myself, and wonder how the hell I got to where I am today. Last night was one of those occasions, as I went to one of the best musical performances I've ever seen as a result of my job. 

A couple of months ago composer Matthew Herbert approached the Guardian as he wanted to create a concert inspired by a single copy of the Guardian. We agreed....as we're kinda cool like that....and the results were performed last night at the Royal Festival Hall by the London Sinfonietta as part of the London Jazz Festival.

My my, it was an absolute hoot. As the audience arrived to take their seats, we were all handed copies of the Guardian from Saturday 25 September 2010, which was the edition he had used to draw inspiration from. As the performance got underway with a piece based around the sounds of the Guardian printing presses, we were told which sections of the paper had influenced which compositions. 

What lay at every audience member's feet at the end of the night

When I initially heard about the project I had presumed that he would be using some of the big news stories to provoke his pieces, but instead he tended to focus on little random stories in the various sections, which made it even more quirky.

One piece was prompted by a small, wry article in the business section about a forthcoming auction for a Lehman Brothers sign. Herbert had bid for the item online hoping that the Sinfonietta's percussionest would then be able to 'play' the sign as part of the performance, but this hope was dashed when it sold for a whopping £23,000! Instead, a piece of music was created around the sound of the auction itself which Herbert had recorded, with the audience being instructed by the conductor to rub two credit cards together at certain points. A fantastic composition critiquing money and consumerism was the result.

Another section of the concert was based around the paper's various articles and features about food. There was even a chef on the stage cooking the recipes which had appeared in the Weekend mag that day, with the smells wafting across the audience throughout the entire evening. As a foley artist created the sounds of mould growing (to match a video being shown which had been mentioned in the paper, of-course), we were told to make paper aeroplanes out of the recipe pages to represent food airmiles. The sight of hundreds of paper aeroplanes whizzing around the RFH was magical.

The most poignant piece was prompted by a poem which had been printed in the Review section about a dying mother. Herbert set the poem to music, which was sung by Eska. It was simply beautiful.

Less beautiful, but more fun, was a composition based solely on footage from a football match that took place that day - Oxford United v Crewe Alexandra to be precise. Herbert cleverly selected a section in the match which contained very little football and lots of schoolboy altercations, with the orchestra providing the sound effects for every shove, whistle and bounce of the ball.

Wow, I could go on and on about this but I'm aware I've already written too much. Other highlights included a cover version of a Status Quo song, volunteers rhythmically building a house on stage with bricks to reflect the property articles (during which the audience jangled their house keys) and a pianist whose birthday was mentioned in the paper that day playing the intro to one of the songs. We were also encouraged to try and complete the cryptic crossword during the course of the evening, with the first to do so winning a bottle of wine.

However, I think my favourite piece in terms of the actual music was one based around a recording of an interview between Ed Pilkington and Jonathan Frantzen (the resulting feature appeared in the paper on the 25 September). Herbert spliced and remixed their conversation live on stage while the orchestra 'played' copies of Frantzen's latest book, which he was promoting in the interview. It sounded bloody awesome and deliciously trippy.

The climax of the concert was a mass audience participation piece, where each section of the audience had to use their copy of the Guardian to make various sounds, through rolling it up and tapping, ripping the pages or even blowing through it. Very enjoyable, though it meant that the venue looked like absolute carnage afterwards, with torn up Guardians cluttering every aisle. 

I cannot express enough how much I enjoyed the entire concert - it was performed with such humour and intelligence, even including when the performers bowed at the very end to reveal Rupert Murdoch's face adorning the top of everyone's heads. But I'll let you all make your own minds up about what Herbert was trying to imply with this...

London on the cheap: Striking a Chord

I'll always possess a Bristolian soul, but having a few days off in London has reminded me how much I love this city. When I first moved here in 2007 I was concerned that everything would be so expensive that I would never have two pennies to rub together (interestingly, if you do rub two pennies together between your thumb and forefinger, it looks a bit like three pennies), but that really couldn't be any further from the truth. Sure, if you want to go out to expensive restaurants every night and shop on Bond Street then you can, but if you look in the right places there are so many things to do here for free.

Take the last few days, for example. On Tuesday the London Bloggers Meetup was a completely free event. Granted, not everyone is interested in blogging and online networking type things, but it really is such a nice crowd of people. Then on Thursday evening the play I went to was through the brilliant Audience Club. You pay £50 a year for membership to the club (I purchased my membership jointly with a friend, so a bargainous £25 each), and it entitles you to go along to fringe and West End shows and concerts all over the capital for two quid a pop. Over the years I've been to see Bon Jovi, an amazing ventriloquism show, comedy acts and tons of plays - from West End hits to back-room-of-a-pub dramas. I'd implore everyone in London to sign up, or buy membership for a theatre lover as an ace Christmas present (oh, and if you do, mention me as they'll whack on another couple of free months to my membership...!).

This weekend was another freebie special. On Saturday I went along to an incredible art installation in the Kingsway Tram Tunnel. The installation was a piece called 'Chord' by the artist Conrad Shawcross, and although you had to pre-book, it was free admission. The art itself is a rather funky piece of engineering brilliance, which is somehow automatically winding a multi-coloured piece of rope along a track. Sounds weird, and that's because it kind of is; in a good way, though. I do like these strange arty things, especially tunnel-based ones. For a more eloquent description of what it all means, here's the official site. Or take a look at the cool photos on Londonist (mine came out pretty rubbish as it was too dark, plus we weren't really allowed).

Although the art itself was impressive, personally I was more in awe of the tunnel itself. The subway - which is mainly used for storage by Camden Council these days - was last used for trams in 1952. More recently, the tunnel has been used for a number of films (Hidden City, The Avengers, Bhowani Junction and The Escapist), and some of the props from these films still remain, such as the rather spooky fake underground map, which I did manage to successfully snap:

I would absolutely love to visit some old, abandoned tube stations in London if possible, so if anyone hears of such an opportunity, please do let me know, as I find it fascinating.

The final freebie came in the form of some wonderful fireworks on Blackheath on Saturday night. Firework displays always astound me, and this one ticked all the boxes, those boxes being: a) availability of mulled wine b) duration of display c) fireworks I had never seen before (my favourite new one resembled a broccoli floret) and d) a suitably awe-inspiring and climactic finale.

So there you have it; proof that life in London can be easy on your wallet. I had intended to go to a free cinema screening this morning as well, but after weighing it up I opted for the lie-in. I do have to go back to work tomorrow, after all. 

Speaking in puns...

...is quite often what I find myself doing, mainly for my own childish amusement. Most of them are pretty weak and groan-inducing (which isn't a bad thing), but there's something incredibly gratifying about coming up with a pure pun. By a 'pure' pun, I mean one that works on not two, but at least THREE separate levels; they're the puns that are meant to exist, and they'll pop into your head almost effortlessly, before you've even had a chance to process the sheer brilliance of it. I reckon I've come up with a triple-tiered pun on only a dozen of occasions or so. Those who've ever interacted with me in any way shape or form know that a dozen is a tiny drop in the ocean when it comes to the sheer volume of my word-play attempts. So they're very rare creatures indeed.

Anyway, I've gone off on a punrelated tangent, as this blog was meant to be about a play I saw tonight called 'Speaking in Tongues'. A very good play it was too. It had John Simm in it (most would know him from Life On Mars, but as a Doctor Who fan I only see The Master), and another Doctor Who connection via actress Lucy Cohu, who played Captain Jack's daughter in the latest Torchwood series (thanks IMDB, that had been bugging me all night). There were only four actors in the production, but each one took on at least a couple of characters throughout the play.

The story initially centres around two married couples, whose lives and relationships are about to become as interwoven as the fast-paced dialogue, which is spoken in unison by the characters in the opening scene. Each of the couples is experiencing marital problems, and by coincidence they each find solace in the other's spouse. 

By the end of act one, the audience is left wondering whether the couples will resolve their differences once their individual deceptions have been discovered and agonised over. But then the second half takes the audience on an altogether different journey, following the stories of a number of other complicated relationships, with a dark mystery linking them all in unspoken little ways, as well as the characters we met in the first half. It's all very clever and tense, and it was a great production which definitely gets you thinking about the notion of trust and just how blimin' complicated human relationships are, and not just the romantic ones.

Before the play, I caught up with some old colleagues and friends, and had a yummy Thai meal in a restaurant which I never knew existed before tonight. It's called Thai Pot, and it's just round the corner from my favourite pub in the world, The Harp. So, basically, everything I have mentioned above, I would very much recommend.

Wicked 48 hours

So I have completed another rotation around the sun and have waved goodbye to my mid-twenties. Ah well. A very good birthday it was too, with a birthday lunch, lots of wine, laughter, Chinese food (leading to doggybag-gate) and a surprise delivery to the office of a fab Authentic Cuervo Margarita kit courtesy of the lovely people at Splendid Communications. It was delivered by a courier and everything and came with a gorgeous glass with sparkly bits down the stem. Yum yum.

Then the following evening a bunch of us from work went to see the musical 'Wicked'. I'm a regular theatre-goer, but musicals aren't usually my bag, yet I swear this one blew my socks off. Fab story, catchy songs, witty humour. I even shed a couple of tears, which is VERY unlike me. Go and see it. Now. It's even got Carol from 'The Brittas Empire' in it (the receptionist who used to keep her baby in the drawer).

A midsummer night's dream

Yes, I know strictly speaking the title of this blog should have a few more capital letters in it, especially since what I have to say is in fact Shakespeare-related. But I'm not actually writing about Puck and Titania, because last night a bunch of us went along to The Globe to watch a special midnight - 3.30am performance of King Lear. It's definitely midsummer-ish, it was during the night and it did indeed feel like a bit of a dream. So my grammar isn't rubbish. Ha.

Anyway, the play was fantastic - amazing pagan music and earthy costumes - I felt like I was watching it as it was originally meant to be performed. With the solar eclipse earlier in the day (which a group of us from the office successfully witnessed from Trafalgar Square by looking at the reflection of the sun in a puddle, causing a few bystanders to look at us rather oddly since it appeared that we were simply standing in a line and looking at the ground) it was, all in all, a pretty magical 24 hours in London.

Photo (in which you can kind of see us!) by little misadventure.

In awe of the opera

I saw Tosca last night - my first ever opera. It was part of the annual Opera Holland Park season, and it rocked. I mean, I was expecting it to be good, but not THAT good. I was lucky enough to have a free ticket, thanks to the ever-generous Harris family, who are heavily involved in the W11 Children's Opera. It was absolutely tipping it down during the performance, but I actually felt that the stormy conditions added to the drama and atmosphere. I wish I could give the show the review it deserves here, but since it was my first operatic experience I have nothing to compare it to. But judging by the recent write-ups in the Guardian and Independent, I appear to have done all right for my first one. Aside from the amazing performances, what really bowled me over was the quality of the portaloos. They had dado rails and moisturiser for goodness sake! I've arrived!

Speaking from the stomach

Anyone who knows me will tell you that my tummy rules my mind. When I need food, I NEED FOOD. However, my tummy certainly does not rule my mouth, which is - I learned tonight - the basic principle behind the art of ventriloquism (which is 'belly speaker' in Latin). Tonight I was lucky enough to attend the press night of The Two And Only - a new West End show all about ventriloquism, performed by the brilliant Tony Award-winner Jay Johnson at the Arts Theatre in Soho. This dude rocks - for 90 minutes nonstop he spoke with his mouth open (about ventriloquism as an art and its history) and with his mouth shut (playing the roles of brilliant 'dummies' - many of which seem to appear from nowhere). And I never throught I'd say it - the show even brought a tear to my eye at a couple of moments. I then kind of ruined the evening by pissing off the security guard in my office because I wanted to go in and use the loo - he was not impressed. Oh dear.