The Brass Hub

 

I got the chance to stay in Wanganui (or W(h)anganui as it may soon be spelt) on Friday. Wanganui is a traditional banding town. The town has recently put a ban on the wearing of gang patches in town. No doubt this has stemmed not only from a history of gang activity in the town, but also the history of the many rival brass bands this relatively small New Zealand town used to boast - Tenderkist Wanganui Redcoats beating up the Black with Yellow stripe (correct me if I'm wrong on the colours) Wanganui Garrison boys.

This town has hosted it's share of national band contests, where the townspeople were terrorized by the sight of differently attired brass band hooligans not only roaming in a disorganized manner in ones and twos to solo and party events, but organized into militant rectangles of fury, taking over whole streets and producing decibels of noise that would not be heard for many a year until the proliferation of vehicle mounted sub-woofers. A strong police presence is required to ensure the safety of the locals who could inadvertently place their vehicle in the path of these symbols of civil chaos in military garb.

I can sympathise with the people of Wanganui and the surrounding towns. They think this will just drive gangs, and indeed national brass band contests, from their town, to the next. This will result in a domino effect of other Councils declaring similar bans and the gangs and brass band movement needing to find more discreet locations for their clandestine blood sports and inhumane initiations - all so they can wear the uniform. These groups now shun the public eye, and only play to themselves in back room self styled fight clubs where strangely, only the judges are blindfolded

But gangs and bands have cleaned themselves up in recent years, abandoning the colourful patches and adornments and embracing the plain blacks and whites we see in the concert halls and gaming rooms. It may not be long before we see the bands appearing on the streets again dressed as penguins instead of peacocks, and it will leave the Councils with the stark reality that, despite their best intentions, these miscreants are here to stay. But the veneer of respectability will fool no one.

What is my point?

Not a clue!

I always find the ‘people' composition of a band interesting. This common interest draws peoples from all walks and stages of life. Hierarchy is often thrown to the wind, the high school dropout will sit on the solo cornet rank, while the CEO of a medium sized company will be on 3^rd cornet. A seventy year old bloke next to a 10 year old girl - all of them taking orders and criticism from the IT technician waving a stick in the middle.

There can't be that many hobbies in the world that boast this range, even churches and community groups tend to attract more of one demographic than another. Being a very European, and more recently Pacific tradition, it is only obviously lacking in cultural diversity.

Those of you who know me will be sick of me harping on about my 16 year break from full time banding between 1988 and 2004, but many significant changes happened over this period that were noticeable from the perspective of one that was not around to see the gradual shift.

In the 1980s, I left a banding world where the two dominant bands, and at least one other, had a policy (I believe unwritten, but I am prepared to be surprised) of not allowing women in their bands - I still have a scanned mockup of the brass band audition sheet for men and women with ‘Abide with Me' for the men, and an impossible concoction of complexity for women.

Please correct me if I'm wrong, but between these bands mentioned above, and the previous era bands that definitely did not include women, they had won all the A grade test competitions to 1986 i.e. no woman could claim to have won an A Grade test piece, or even if I'm wrong, very few. It was probably a first when Waitakere (then Yamaha New Lynn) won the 1987 set test with, as I recall, seven women in the band. Nowadays, only 22 years later, most A Grade bands can boast a much more even mix, with many of the "ends of the rows" occupied by women.

Another shift in that time occurred when the Salvation Army allowed their people to belong to ‘secular' bands. I was often the only churchgoer in my band, and followed the Michael Jones (All Black) line of not attending practices on Sundays. Me and the repiano player came home from a weekend band camp on the Sunday to attend church, and were positively victimized by the conductor for weeks afterwards - for a while we would be blamed even if a timpani put a note out of place.

The other shift I noticed was the increase in the number of people who were primarily musicians in their everyday job. There had always been music teachers and those that did their stint in the Army Band, but now there are more ‘professional' musicians involved, or should I say more bandies pursuing musical qualifications and careers. One negative about this is the orchestral practice of needing to call every third person a "Principal Whatever" - and of course "Deputy Principal Whatever". I personally think this is a bit of a joke, and we should revert to having one ‘band leader' if necessary (anyway, what is the conductor, if not the band leader?) It doesn't matter if the band leader is the 1^st trom, eupho, cornet, or even *cough* the soprano cornet.

Finally, there has been an influx of new colonists from Britain, at least this was obviously a policy in the Auckland band scene since the late 1980s. Many Britons obviously saw the lure of leaving the land of dark satanic mills, without having to leave behind their love of brass bands.

So summing up - dropouts, CEOs, the old, the young, women, Sallies, professional musos, and Poms - Gotta love them... and the diversity of the modern brass band.

 By the way, does anyone like me blogging away here, or is it a big waste of my time and effort? Let me know, I'm a musician, and like most musicians, if I don't get feedback, I'll sulk and leave if not acknowledged!!

 

At the conclusion of the NZ Open Soprano event in Napier recently, David King gave a 35-minute dissertation on the art of soprano cornet playing. It was very valuable and informative, and he concentrated on issues around the production of a good full tone, and stamina on the soprano cornet. This was a rare honour that the chief contest adjudicator was judging this event, and he obviously has a real interest in the instrument.

Professor King boldly suggested that many in the field may need to question whether they are naturally suited to the soprano cornet. In my opinion, what he didn't mention was the effect that nerves play when performing a soprano solo - and there is many a time when a soprano cornet player, capable of producing a clarion sound over the top of a full band, is reduced to a squeaky shadow of themselves when stuck in a small room with a piano and a judge.

But also, I find that my tastes in what a soprano player should sound like, differs from many others. I have always strived to blend in un-noticeably with the B flat cornets, and then move up the octave with a full sound that makes the notes sound almost lower than they actually are (No, I don't mean "flat"!). Others prefer a skinny (some would say pretty) sound, that can be heard when playing in ‘unison' with the cornet team, and then moves up the octave to produce a very fragile sound, in a hopefully confident manner (if that makes sense) in a way that makes the note sound way higher than they actually are on paper.

When moving someone to soprano cornet, I believe a crucial mistake is often made. People are often asked to play soprano because they already sound like a soprano cornet on a B flat and can get all the high notes. The problem with that is, someone who has a small tone on a B flat, will have an even smaller tone on soprano. Perhaps we look for the wrong things?

Some weeks ago, I was asked to listen to a young boy who was having trouble getting notes above E on his trumpet. He had been playing for some time, and as he blew, his instrument was pressed hard into his lips, and the mouthpiece was pushed to one side of his mouth as immense pressure was being injected in and around the mouthpiece. I did question him and his father as to whether he needed to move to a bigger mouthpiece instrument. I didn't know at the time, but two others had provided the same advice, but there was some family reluctance to move away from trumpet as the instrument of choice.

But in the middle of this discussion I let slip one thing. I said "He reminds me of myself" - this little guy was just like I was at his age, pushing the instrument hard into the right hand side of my mouth. I used to have terrific problems with pressure and stamina. I had a callus on my left index finger, where I pushed the valve casing of the cornet towards my face - it was still there 5 years ago. I only noticed recently that the callus has gone.

On a B flat cornet, I had (and still have) the fattest tone. I used immense pressure, and pushed through a lot of air, and could never get through the simplest of solos in a pressure situation, and my range was very limited, only able to squeak out top C's in the first 10 minutes of any concert, and nothing much above a G after that. I was even specifically asked to play flugel horn for one national youth band, as my tone was seen as unusually fat.

Given my family history with three trombonists in the family, I originally wanted to play trombone, but was told "we have enough trombonists in the family, you're on cornet boy!" so you may have thought that my genes were drawing me back to that instrument.

However, my love affair of all things ‘piccolo trumpet' came to the fore when listening to the Beatle's ‘Penny Lane' and the subsequent purchase of a Maurice Andre album for my 16^th birthday. Despite all that seemed logical, I wanted to play soprano cornet.

But it worked!! The guy with the most "un-soprano-like" sound, and limited range, was able to produce a fat soprano sound, and the limited airflow was channeled and controlled. High notes came fairly easily. Initially, I was one of those who could play up a storm in the band setting, but not do so well in the solo setting. It took another 20 years (including a 16 year break from banding, but not from playing) to realize that I was actually allowed to try different mouthpieces, play with less pressure, and eventually win some solos - being much less nervous was a big key. All I need now is the ability to play more in time and in tune!!

So the point of this blog entry is to point out that maybe there are many cornet players out there who are counting themselves out of playing a soprano. Considering the current need of many bands to import overseas soprano players for contests, perhaps some should be bold and make the leap, or ask someone to take the leap into the madness that defines the soprano cornet player!

Some of you may have your own experiences, thoughts and comments on this - I'd love to hear them.

 

"Dear Stephen King, I was wondering if you would kindly consider the following concept as the plot baseline for your next novel..."

It was apparent at the Napier contest that many mistook my last blog on my previous lip issues as being a current lip problem affecting my leadup to the 2009 nationals. Actually, at the time I wrote the blog, my lip was achieving a semi-invincible status which, being a casual amateur player, only arises after a measured, concentrated buildup to a contest or big concert.

So I was smugly writing about past issues thinking all was okay in the world of Fendall's face!

The morning after posting that blog, I woke up with the "feeling", fortunately just to one side of the embouchure on the bottom lip. Next day, another "feeling" was detected above the embouchure on the top lip, and more concerning, a sudden feeling of slight inflammation on the site of last year's "whale-bloat". Thankfully, I had a few days before the next weekend practice, all was managed effectively, and I went into the contest with the sort of lip you hope for.

Unfortunately, the sores hadn't healed, and while playing on the street march, the stretching of my mouth broke the skin on my bottom lip to allow an effective looking stream of blood flow down my chin. The official at the end of the street march ran over with an extreme look of concern and a heartfelt "Are you okay?"

Talk about a badge of honour!? Being so dedicated that you bleed on the street march. I didn't clean my blood soaked mouthpiece until some time into the afternoon band practice, my Viking and Celtic ancestors would have been proud.

My attempt to recreate this bloody scene during the contest stage performances, and be worthy of entry into Valhalla, failed. I had images of a crimson splattered white pleated shirt, and the crazed look of "Scrat" from the movie "Ice Age" as I belted out the treble forte soprano passages in Paganini.

So even though that particular alternate reality did not come to pass, I am considering pitching the whole concept to Stephen King about a band so committed that they bleed to death on stage.

Too gruesome? Maybe the concept is too tame... in comparison to the reality of the brass band blood-sport that is ‘contesting'!

Feel free to comment on this or any of my blogs (or anyone's blogs). The intention is that these become a conversation starter.

 

The contest in Napier was very enjoyable, it was a great venue, and like North Shore in 2007, you get the sense that there is community buy in - I believe the future of contest venues is in these definable communities. As far as big cities go, Christchurch pulls in the crowds and is always excellent, but I think that greater Auckland, Wellington and even to a degree Dunedin, has problems in that you feel like you are just one small conference of many that just happens to invade their metropolis.

I wouldn't condone attempting to hold a contest in Waitakere, the venue choices are either the Waitakere stadium - rather noisy, but the whole banding community would fit.... Or the Glen Eden Playhouse... hmmmmm? That, and the fact that West Auckland traffic means that you take your life in your hands if you a walking within 10m of a road edge, and even then I would wear protective equipment and be ready to jump nimbly like a ninja. As it is, half of us in the Waitakere band choose to commute from the North Shore, and are okay with the bandroom being only 100m from the current border of Auckland central.

Napier was great. What makes it good? It always helps when the CBD is pedestrian friendly and nicely sized so that you always meet up with other bandspeople in the cafes and pubs, and the hotels are plentiful, and dotted around the CBD. I compare this to the atrocious choice of "Ivanhoe" in Melbourne 2007, where the main centre was spread down two sides of a very wide noisy arterial road, and everyone had to bus in from miles away.

Okay, so the solo venue was in a place that made you realize that Napier wasn't that small, but once you were there, it had a good feel, and good café facilities are essential - great for that first catch up with people. Nice college campuses are really good, in many ways better than the solos being held at a conference centre.

In all this, I must remember that the weather, combined with the earlier timing of the contest was wonderful. This mid-July lark needs to be reconsidered, and maybe we should look at holding the contest permanently on a non-Easter weekend at the end of the first school term. I know this may affect those bands that like going to Australian contests in the same year, but that should not be our problem. I normally wear a thermal shirt under my marching uniform on the street march, but not so this year - and the crowds that turned out!!! Memories of crowding around a heater out the back of the Wanganui town hall, or watching out for ice on the footpaths in Dunedin on the way to the set test are all very nice, but not conducive to playing at your best, or drawing the idle masses from their homes to see us.

So in summary, well done Napier, may more communities like yours get contests, and if we could find a way of committing the National band every July, without the cash deficit, we could benefit from warmer weather to contest in.

Well, as we launch into more intense rehearsals this weekend, I am reflecting on issues that have affected my enjoyment of the last two contests (Christchurch and FABB), namely coldsores and lip issues - something eupho players know little about, as we all know, euphos just play themselves!

Since my return in 2004 I've had a feeling of invincibility with my lip, but my personal life underwent a few big stresses in a couple of areas at the start of 2008. I had a swathe of coldsores hit in two waves prior to the Christchurch contest last year, even though I'm a soprano player, the coldsores didn't affect my playing, they were just annoying!! But what followed in the week of the contest was the swelling of my top lip to biblical proportions, some days after the coldsores had healed, and I had not put excessive pressure on my lip, or even bashed it on anything. On the Tuesday of the contest, it couldn't fit in my mouthpiece, and for the first time in my life I quite literally could not play a single note, no ability to vibrate - nothing but air. By Wednesday, I could play some notes, but only pedals and, oddly, some notes above the stave. I don't generally get nervous these days, but on this occasion I was bricking myself.

On the Thursday, it took me about half an hour to figure out that I could get most notes in a learner kind of way, the worst note was D below the stave - I decided to go ahead with the national solos. It was the biggest audience I had played to in the sop section - I felt like hanging a sign around my neck saying "Massive bloated lip, will sound like a learner" - but you can't communicate this sort of thing without sounding like a right pratt.

I got more confidence through the week, and by the end of it, some people claim they actually heard some of the soprano part to Battle Creek.

In the weeks leading up to FABB, again a minor coldsore outbreak, and then I had another lip bloat, nowhere near the coldsores, and not as bad as Christchurch, and most importantly, many days before the contest so it healed well in time.

Well, it's 2 weeks to the nationals, I had a single lonely coldsore come and go, and fitness is good - just praying the mystery "bloat" doesn't happen. I am inclined to button off the big blowing during the upcoming practices. This year, I have also been taking a supplement called "Cold Sore Formula" which has the active ingredients of Lysine Hydrochloride, Zinc and Vitamin C. I also double up with a Berocca each day, and I must admit, it's all feeling good. Prayer is also involved!

That's on the preventive side, but on the "corrective" side, I also now have my very own tin of Rawleighs, and have Arnica solution on hand to manage the rigours. I also got some coldsore cream custom made by my chemist with the same active ingredient as Zovirax except that this little tub has as much as you would expect in about 15 tubes of Zovirax, and only $20. I still have the tube of Voltarin prescribed by our percussionist Kay last year too

I'm glad my soprano case is so big, as it is really fun being the official drug dealer during band practice, liberally offering quantities of Nurofen and various creams and ointments. That, and a "Jew's Harp" which I have found jolly effective to play during Grand Pause bars recently.

 Sorry to ramble on, but that is the point of a blog isn't it?

Well, I just thought I would try this blog thing out to see what it can and can't do.

 It looks like it has some interesting features:

 What is the "Trackbacks and Jom Comment" thing all about?

 Well, I finally started practicing properly in the last week or two, and losing all those 'flipped' notes.