Every Concert is an Adventure

13 August 2019
WRITTEN BY
Mark Hampson

Mark Hampson

Musician

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It was with much anticipation that we all arrived in Granada early in July for the second part of our Manuel de Falla project with Pablo Heras-Casado.

It was like coming home for me as I have lived on the Canary Islands for many years and play this repertoire very often being part of a Spanish symphony orchestra. I had, however, already been in nearby Malaga for a few days teaching before arriving. This gave me a chance to get used to the intense Summer heat in Andalucia. It’s quite different to the Canaries; where we enjoy a moderate and constant climate the whole year round. Andalucia on the other hand is a real furnace, we were lucky that the Summer heat “only” got to 40 degrees this year. I have experienced more extreme temperatures, but this never fails to surprise. A walk down the street where our hotel was situated in the midday sun was a withering affair, and even the most north European of my colleagues quickly took on the Spanish siesta tradition.

The first thing that always strikes you in Granada is the superb food and open, easy going locals. My first dinner out with our resident violinist and photographer, Geoffroy, was wonderful – fabulous wine and the friendliest waiter I have ever met. The other striking aspect of a musician’s work in Granada is the Alhambra. We were lucky enough to be rehearsing in the auditorium which is close by, and enjoys a spectacular view of the city and surrounding hills. I have been to the Alhambra before, and know of its spectacular interiors and stunning position, but many of my MCO friends went for the first time during our time here.

This was a relatively short project, just our typical three-day format of two rehearsal and one concert day. As a result, the concert was upon us very quickly and we were all very excited about performing at the Palacio de Carlos V. This is a beautiful historic palace, which contains a stunning  arena, a place any Spanish musician is familiar with being truly emblematic. It’s an open air venue, but the arena affords it a pleasant acoustic. And since rehearsals and concerts don’t start until late at night, this  gives time for the heat of the day to dissipate.

We were lucky enough to be playing for the closing concert of the festival and you could sense the anticipation of the audience. The atmosphere was fanned by snippets of our own recording of Manuel de Falla’s music which we were due to perform later. But first we were playing the premiere of Peter Eötvös’ violin concerto, Alhambra, with the always brilliant Isabelle Faust. The music was challenging, and Isabelle had wowed us in rehearsals with her massive palette of sound and colour. It’s always exciting to premier a work knowing that it’s the first time anyone has heard it, a real opportunity to convert a composer’s ideas into reality.

Funnily enough, I had noticed that the sky was looking unsettled earlier in the sound check, but the thought of rain in Andalucia in July is something preposterous. An outdoor concert here is truly safe … or so we thought. A short way into the concerto, I noticed a lot of commotion from the audience, until I realised that it was indeed raining. This always results in near panic for my string-playing colleagues since any moisture can damage their delicate and valuable instruments. A little rain worries us brass players less. In fact, it can be quite a nice reminder of our early days playing in village bands and braving the elements. 

Luckily for us and the audience, we could shelter under the galleries which encircle the arena. We even managed to provide them with some entertainment as we discovered that the animal silhouettes we were practicing on the backlit screens behind the orchestra could be seen by the public. It caused some amusement as we waited for the rain to abait.

After about half an hour and an early interval we tried, and succeeded, in getting through the Eötvös. It was great to play this music in such an evocative atmosphere, although the gathering clouds above us threatened once again. Unfortunately the previously damp pages of the scores had now dried and stuck together, so this mood was occasionally broken by our panicked attempts to free our pages. It was already very late when we decided to start the de Falla and it was going so well. The orchestra was taking lots of risk, and it was a pleasure for me to listen to everyone on top form (the trombones only play in the final five minutes of the piece). But then more consternation from the audience … and more rain. This time much heavier.

We all ran off the stage and decided not to continue with the de Falla. We had had a wonderful time in Granada but this experience brought home how important the each performance is, and how we miss the adrenaline and excitment if we don’t get to play what we have so meticulously prepared. The bus was totally silent on the way back to our hotel and the ensuing drinks and wind-down was a much more sombre affair than usual. It was a memorable project for all of us even thought this was the first time a concert has ever been rained off at the Granada Festival. It was especially a disappointment for Pablo Heras-Casado, who had been planning this closing concert for many months as artistic director of the festival. I mused on this, and realised that a big part of our adrenaline fix when performing is never really knowing what will happen next. Every concert is an adventure!

Photos: Geoffroy Schied

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