Chapter 3

The School Concert was the venue for the practical music exams. Each one would be videoed and submitted for their grades. Katie was nervous, all five music students were. The choir had done their first session, now the students were to provide the middle session before the choir sang excerpts from Gilbert and Sullivan.

In the audience, Katie’s mum sat, almost as nervous as Katie was. Other parents sat near her and they all agreed how nerve-racking it all was; but that it was good experience if they wanted to be a performer.

Lawrence was first, and played his short composition on a guitar, it was good, everyone agreed. Mandy came on and had an accompanist. Her singing teacher played the piano. She sang a song of her own, with music she had written. It had something of an opera aria about it. Her voice was a perfect contralto. She loved singing, and it came across in the way she sang. She received enthusiastic applause, not least because she had a large family contingent in the audience.

Each student walked on and presented their piece. Katie’s mother felt the butterflies in her stomach building up. She had heard parts, but never the final piece. Katie walked on, put music on the piano and then walked to the corner where something had been covered in a sheet. Everybody had assumed it was just something that was covered up because it couldn’t be moved. It was a drum kit. A large, hairy man walked on, not in his trademark leather jerkin, he had tried to look close to normal for this. The audience looked on in silence. Any presentation could have an accompanist. Bear was it. Katie sat at the piano and started pressing a single key, the beat was gently taken up by the drum. Slowly more keys joined, creating chords that rose and fell; the increased complexity was accompanied exactly by the drum. It wasn’t a long piece; it lifted and fell, and some found themselves imagining a sea shore with waves on the sand. Then it was over. She received a massive applause.

Four people in the audience recognised the drummer. How had an A-level student got him to accompany her?

Several weeks before, Katie had played her piece to Bear; she recognised him as having a musical understanding that her mother lacked. As he listened, he started tapping the table in time with the piano; he added the coffee cup, and his thigh; and together they collaborated in bringing the piece beyond a mere simple set of chords and notes that would pass the exam to a piece that was a composition. At the end they smiled at each other.

It was good on its own. It was much better with the drum. Bear showed her how to mark her score to bring in different percussive sounds. It was all in her head, he may have inspired, but then she perspired to upgrade her piece. She explained that there was a boy at school who might help. “Not like that, he likes drumming.” The boy looked at the notes, he was interested in rock, not classical. He missed his chance.

“Send me the piece.” Bear said, and his partner smiled at him as she accompanied him on the piano and he played the drums; if he altered one or two parts (from snare to bass to give a heavy thump in a couple of places; a bongo drum at the start) well they were minor polishes to a finished job. Then he and Kate (Katie, Katherine only to her parents; Kate only to Bear) worked on lessening the drums and increasing the importance of the piano. They had the task of presenting a conversation between piano and drum with the piano to the fore. When the day came, he was ready.

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The ‘New Composers’ concert as part of the Proms featured four supposedly new, upcoming, composers. Katie laughed when she had been invited, she had been composing for twenty years. Still, always good to get recognition. She was the last one, perhaps in recognition of being the most established.

Estaphan O’Reilly had conducted his “Symphony of Found Objects”, it was modern and discordant and politely received – to disappear for ever. Langdon Smith’s piece was well-received, eighteen Irish harps playing in harmony. Simeon Turk was only fifteen, he was undoubtedly talented, his orchestral piece was interesting but not easy listening. Then Katie walked onto the stage to play her own composition. Her legs were shaking, this was terrifying; it shouldn’t be, the Proms audiences were always supportive and enthusiastic. The Promenade concerts were always a celebration of music, not a challenge.