Cohen Pod Talks

One of the projects I've been working on, as producer, for over a year is Cohen Pod Talks, which launches today. This is a series of (currently) five podcasts in which the cellist Robert Cohen talks to interesting figures in the arts - musicians, administrators and commentators - about the place of classical music, and music education, in the world today.

Guests are the former managing director of the Barbican, Sir John Tusa; the writer, broadcaster and activist, Tariq Ali; Head of Contemporary Culture at Southbank, Gillian Moore; composer and broadcaster, Michael Berkeley; and conductor Sir Mark Elder.

We have set up a website for the project, where you can listen to the podcasts streamed, download them or subscribe to the series. Or you can subscribe via iTunes or loads of other feed readers. The full list is on the homepage of the website.


There is also a fan page on Facebook (search for "Cohen Pod Talks") and you can get alerts/news on Twitter.

We encourage you to discuss each podcast, either using the comments page on the website or on the discussion board of the Facebook page. We are really looking forward to reading your thoughts on the subjects raised in each podcast.

The Pod Talk with Sir John Tusa is available now.

Street Maestros

So here's a little bit of fun: a short film that forms part of an ad campaign I've been working on for the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra.

On November 19th, the CBSO launches its latest eBay auction, where the highest bidders get to win an opportunity to conduct the CBSO or play a string instrument within the orchestra. It's a terrific prize and I'm sure there will be loads of budding Rattles as bidders.

I made this film, featuring Andris Nelsons conducting the CBSO and then members of the public doing the same - sort of - on the streets of Birmingham as a teaser.

Do pass it around if you can. Enjoy!

Classical Music Critics - where were you?

Some of the common subjects that classical music critics and feature writers enjoy banging on about include: orchestras/audiences are too white; classical music isn't treated with enough seriousness in education projects; orchestra outreach projects are more about hip-hop than Haydn; the future of orchestral playing is under threat.

On a general level, these are all perfectly legitimate concerns. But last night's inspiring Young Performers concert at the Barbican in London did its best to disprove them all. Part of the LSO On Track project, an initiative run by the LSO's Discovery department (celebrating 20 years of existence), this concert brought together young people of all backgrounds from East London schools - some beginners, others advanced - with students from the Guildhall School, energetic animateurs Paul Griffiths and Mark Withers, players from the LSO itself, and two of the most successful composers in the UK, James MacMillan and Nitin Sawhney.

Sawhney led an eclectic group of youngsters and LSO musicians in a piece created from scratch during workshops last week, inspired by the rhythms of jazz, flamenco and Indian music. Withers conducted the LSO On Track Youth Orchestra - a truly multi-cultural group - in another new piece created by the musicians working with James MacMillan, taking as a starting point various musical phrases inspired by the vocal music of the Aka pygmies. What emerged was a sonic blast, with rich and untamed orchestral colours spiralling around the Barbican stage - a full-fat, in-yer-face Ligeti Atmospheres. Then Kristjan Jarvi conducted the same orchestra in MacMillan's popular show-piece, Into the Ferment, together with a starry line-up of LSO regulars. It turned out to be the perfect piece for the occasion - funny, silly in places, reflective, brilliantly written; a tour-de-force for all concerned.

On the stage, in one evening, were young people from a variety of different ethnic and social backgrounds playing together with a seriousness and dedication that was inspiring. There was nothing in this concert that pandered to the lowest-common denominator; no 'hey kids, it's modern classical music but don't be put off!' New-Labour bullshit; no patronizing presentation or sycophantic speeches. It was simply young people working hard and performing brilliantly. Speaking to some of them afterwards, it was clear that the children (from 8 to 18) had responded best to being allowed to take the music seriously, to work hard on the notes and performance, and work as a team. They love the social side of music-making too, of course, but they were at the Barbican to work and the results were delightful, challenging and tremendously up-lifting.

So how many music critics were at the Barbican last night to help spread the word about these terrific projects?

None. Not one newspaper commentator/critic could be bothered to show up.

It's no surprise. Critics and their editors (there are some exceptions) are often outrageously sniffy about concerts like this. Although it's not just education-based concerts that fail to raise interest. It drove me mad that no critic came to hear the LSO: A Life in Film concert at the Barbican earlier this year, despite film music being a hugely important part of the orchestra's history and something they take just as seriously as any Mahler performance. It was an insult to the orchestra that no critic thought it worthy of their presence.

Last night's concert wouldn't have been attractive to them either. It didn't fit. It's not entirely their fault: papers around the world are squeezing their arts coverage (many have abandoned it altogether, which is an outrage) and classical music is not seen as much of a priority these days. But a lot IS still being written in this country, usually to a tight brief. There are some fine writers out there. But, this being newspapers, anything that disproves the brief is rarely mentioned or followed up. A recent example: newspapers and broadcast media fell over themselves to report on orchestral musician Philippa Ibbotson's ridiculous article about conductors; she was invited on news programmes, including Radio 4's PM, to talk more about it. But this was only because Ibbotson's article, in which she questioned the value and point of the conductor, fitted exactly with the ignorant prejudice of the news editors. When Sir Clive Gillinson, former CEO of the LSO and now in charge of Carnegie Hall in New York, wrote an excellent, informed response to Ibbotson - "The role of conductor is crucial to the performance of an orchestra" - it was noticeable that he was not invited onto any news programmes to discuss it. It didn't fit editorially.

The Independent published an article recently about audiences being too white, but showed no interest in sending someone to cover last night's concert that featured many ethnic faces on stage and in the audience. The Guardian did the same last year, publishing an article headlined 'Why are our orchestras so white?'. Presumably the Guardian's critics and writers were too busy to come last night.

It's a shame, because the concert would have provided the critics with the opportunity to celebrate, rather than berate, the state of classical music in this country. They would have seen and heard creativity and originality from the very people who, newspapers like to think, rarely have either. They would have experienced some of the superb work undertaken by professional musicians beyond their usual day job. They would have seen black, Asian, Eastern and, yes, white young people on the Barbican stage, all playing contemporary music and creating their own original, arresting, modern orchestral sounds.

It was young people doing something with great skill and accomplishment, in the arts.

But where's the story in that?

Fine voices from the past return

A couple of my all-time favourite music broadcasters have resurfaced in the past week or so, much to my pleasure and surprise.

I was in the car one lunchtime last week (heading for Currys to get more DV tapes, if you must know), listening to BBC Radio 4 as usual, when Brain of Britain's familiar theme tune started up and Russell Davies appeared. Russell is the new presenter now that Robert Robinson has retired (or was he pushed?) and I couldn't be happier. His is one of the best, most knowledgeable and intelligent voices on radio (and although he's done a lot on TV in his career, Davies is properly at home on radio); his Radio 2 show, in which he celebrates the popular song, is always a joy - Davies has that knack of projecting a passion with gentle authority and has a beautifully easy-sounding script technique, if indeed he actually uses a script. Tucked away in the Radio 2 schedules on Sunday evening, Davies deserves a more prominent place on the network.

I last saw Russell (above) at the memorial/celebration concert for our dear mutual friend, Humphrey Carpenter, another inspiring broadcaster and writer who had a love of jazz. Davies acted as the speaker spilling out Auden's words to Benjamin Britten's GPO film music, Night Mail. Both Britten and Auden were subjects of celebrated biographies by Humphrey. Some of Humphrey's old jazz band mates played during the concert and afterwards I reminded Davies that Humphrey had given me his 1938 drum kit as a present, something I treasure and used to play in my 1920s jazz band, the Sloane Square Syncopators (see the bass drum in action here).

On Brain of Britain, Davies brings his natural air to the popular format, instantly making it his own. I hope it encourages Radio 4 to use Davies more, especially in music programmes. You get the feeling that some of the younger suits at the Beeb view people like Davies as being a bit old hat. I hope not, because Davies is exactly the kind of presenter we need more of.

Flicking through the Radio Times today I noticed another voice from the past making a bit of a return - the pianist David Owen Norris (below) presents Sunday Morning on BBC Radio 3 this weekend.

I've known Norris (as everyone calls him) for 20 years as teacher and colleague: he was my music history lecturer at the Royal Academy of Music until he, and I, left under unfortunate circumstances (unrelated, I might add!). Then, when I first started at the BBC 16 years ago I was based at Pebble Mill with my daily show, Music Machine, and Norris was the regular presenter of In Tune when it came from Birmingham. He was also presenter of the true precursor to Music Machine, The Works, which I used to listen to avidly as a student. I often appeared on In Tune as a guest in his usually rather chaotic Christmas specials, where he would try and trip me up (successfully) with some totally obscure bit of knowledge. This was easy for Norris, because he knows everything. Everything. He's one of those people who stores away every tiny bit of information so that it's ready to spill out at a moment's notice. But the key to Norris is that he's no geek - he is an infectious music enthusiast with a gift for natural communication. I used to love hanging out with him, even when I felt - as I often did - a total dunce sitting next to him.

Of course, this 'Stephen Fry effect' was also felt by much of the In Tune audience, who thought he was too clever by half and knew it. But I never thought that. I found it refreshing to listen to people like Norris and Russell Davies who actually seemed to know what they were talking about (which now doesn't seem all that important to many radio station controllers).

Cricket bats and Gergiev

It's been one of those weeks.

On Tuesday it was to Birmingham. First up, filming for a fun CBSO campaign to promote an up-coming project (to be revealed in mid-November). I set up a laptop on a tall table just outside Symphony Hall and invited members of the public to conduct along to a short bit of footage of the CBSO playing the Storm from Britten's Sea Interludes. I used the internal camera on the MacBook as well as my regular camera. Inevitably the results are mad, with people really throwing themselves into the task and looking ridiculous (which was the whole idea, of course). I can't wait to get the films up on YouTube.

It is so much easier to persuade people to do stuff like that these days. When I was presenting for the BBC, I would dread vox-pops (going out in to the street and asking ordinary people questions) because they very rarely produced anything worthwhile. Just watch the news any night of the week and see if you learn anything of value from a vox-pop. There were many days spent in New Street, Birmingham approaching complete strangers and asking them to listen to Verdi or something. Most wouldn't stop at all, and those that did were the very ones you wanted to avoid. But now everyone wants to be on the telly or radio and believes they possess the talent to be the next Chris Evans.

Later on Tuesday I stepped inside Symphony Hall to film an exclusive video for EMI Classics on Valery Gergiev's visit to Birmingham. Gergiev conducted two of the biggest works in the repertoire - Prokofiev's Cantata for the 20th Anniversary of the October Revolution and Berlioz's Grand messe des morts (with its 4 brass bands, double-strength strings and 16 timps!). It was a joint performance with the CBSO/Chorus and Gergiev's own Mariinsky Theatre orchestra/chorus. The line-up and the music made it special enough, but the icing on the cake here was that each of the two performances - on Wednesday and Thursday - was recorded by EMI Classics and distributed to the audience immediately after the concerts. For £15, they got to take the concert home with them. So I was there to capture the special event and film an interview with Gergiev which can be accessed only by those who bought a CD.

Gergiev (above), as always, was on terrific form and seemed completely at home surrounded by (literally) hundreds of musicians and singers. These are the great moments he relishes. The Prokofiev is one of his party pieces, a completely outrageous 50 minutes of kitsch propaganda but with absolutely stunning orchestral writing. The overall effect (given great comedy by a group of accordion players) is breathtaking and exhausting; as Gergiev often says, there simply isn't anything else like it in the entire repertoire. The Berlioz comes close in scale (and surpasses it with number of instruments) but most of the Requiem is slow and measured, with only fleeting big moments - powerful stuff though. Symphony Hall was made for this music and the sound produced by the musicians from Russia and the UK together was awesome.

Because of the time pressure, with my film needing to be ready by the following morning, I had to edit all my footage through the night. The rehearsal, conveniently, didn't finish until 9.45pm.

With that finished, it was back down to London and the home of cricket, Lords. I'm filming a promo for Pitch Perfect, as mentioned in a previous blog. To bring the worlds of cricket and classical music together, we cooked up an idea to have percussionists from the LSO play a variety of cricket equipment as 'instruments', which would then run throughout the finished film. So on Wednesday, I met LSO percussionists Neil Percy and David Jackson at Lords to film the footage (which will be revealed next month, after the official launch of the whole project).


What a wonderful afternoon. We're all cricket fans, so the thrill of walking onto the ground and then having the entire stadium to ourselves, was really rather exciting. Neil and Dave were brilliantly inventive with the cricket gear - pads, helmets, gloves, balls, stumps, bails, boxes - and we got some fantastic effects. It wasn't until the last shot - Neil striking a huge old iron roller with a tubular bell mallet, just behind the statue of WG Grace - that we realised what an odd job we all have sometimes!


Working closely with musicians as good as Neil and Dave is a great privilege. Any audience member at an LSO concert will have seen both in action - Neil often on snare drum, David on cymbals. Watch them next time - you'll rarely see better technique and musicianship. I can't wait for you to see them playing men's cricket boxes either.

Last night it was back to Symphony Hall to see the second Gergiev concert. Afterwards, I filmed more footage for EMI, this time of the long queues of people waiting to collect their special CD of the evening's performance. A team of young guys were pressing the discs right there in the corridor, with a huge bank of CD-R machines, then flicking them out of the trays and straight into CD sleeves which were picked up by the audience. It was very impressive. And very popular. It's damn expensive to record and produce a CD and all its packaging on the night but I hope they find a way of making it pay - it's a terrific idea and the audience clearly has a hunger for it.

I'd be fascinated to know whether those CD buyers enjoy the recording as much as the live performance. There is always something very special about 'the moment' that a live performance gives you - the atmosphere, the fresh excitement - which isn't always present on a recording, even if it's the exact same performance. The two experiences are so different. I was always shocked and surprised by the statistic that demonstrated that the majority of concert-goers do not buy CDs, and vice-versa. Amazing. Maybe the instant availability of a CD straight after a concert will change that?

Thank you very much...indeed

Most professional broadcasters develop techniques for dealing with various on-air and live situations, especially when it comes to 'throwing over' to other presenters (where one presenter intros another presenter: "And now Brian with the sport...") and the often complicated issue of moving from one subject to another, perhaps from one interviewee to another, without it sounding like a nasty gear change. Andrew Marr is a master at the latter on his Sunday morning BBC1 show ("Thank you Prime Minister. Now, Myleene Klass is..."), and other experienced broadcasters on radio, like John Humphreys, Jenni Murray and Simon Mayo are just as smooth with their judgement and pacing.

But there's a virus spreading around the BBC and beyond, particularly in news broadcasting: when a contributor - a guest in a debate, an interviewee, another presenter, a weatherman - finishes their spot, presenters thank them VERY MUCH INDEED. Listen to BBC radio for just a few minutes and you're bound to hear this phrase at least once, if not 20 times - from continuity announcers, news presenters, weather forecasters, feature presenters. Also on TV, where the worst offenders are on BBC Breakfast. Thank you VERY MUCH INDEED. It becomes most irritating when the last three words are staggered, slowed down, so that it becomes "Thank you very much...indeed" (guilty as charged - Carolyn Quin on Radio 4's PM, Victoria Derbyshire on 5Live and everyone who sits on that damn sofa on BBC Breakfast) or worse, "Thank you very much...in..deed".

Why does every guest on a programme have to be thanked VERY MUCH and, indeed, INDEED? What makes them so special? Did they appear for nothing? Do it out of the goodness of their hearts? What's wrong with a simple "Thank you" or even "Thanks".

The answer, I fear, is that it's a simple presenter delaying technique. Those few seconds saying a phrase that demands no thought whatsoever can provide the presenter with the opportunity to prepare for the next item. It can be difficult, particularly on television, to move seamlessly from one item to the next, knowing which camera to look at and what questions to ask; these are things that seasoned presenters learn with experience (although not, on current evidence, the ones picked for BBC Breakfast). But it seems that the phrase "Thank you very much indeed" has become the accepted standard, as if it was issued in a memo from the Director General, alongside the demand for women over 50.

It's getting ridiculous. It reminds me of the time, some years ago, when my mum complained bitterly that everyone in the media seemed to be saying the word 'basically' in every sentence. Once she'd pointed this out, there was no missing it. Basically, she was absolutely right. And any regular listener to radio or viewer of television can spot phrases and words that become trendy and spread like wildfire. Footballers and managers speak almost entirely in cliche, every word copied from some 'How to Talk Football' manual. But professional broadcasters should know better; after all, their business is to be aware of what they are saying. Thanking everyone in sight VERY MUCH...INDEED is a habit that has to be eradicated. And soon.

I've invented a new game. With your friends, assign each person with a version of the phrase. Player One has "Thank you very much"; Player Two has "Thank you very much indeed"; Player Three gets "Thank you very much...indeed"; and Player Four gets "Thank you VERY MUCH...IN...DEED". Listen to the radio or watch TV, during a news programme, and every time your phrase comes up, you get 10 points. First one to 50 wins. It won't take very long. (At the end of the game, don't forget to thank your fellow players very much indeed.)


*Heard any classic Thank you very much indeeds that you think should be reported? Email us NOW!

On the Southbank with John Adams

Goodness, my first blog since June! It's been a busy summer, to say the least - making films and promos for the likes of the LSO, CBSO, EMI Classics, Bite Communications, the Barbican Centre and others. Some of the results can be seen on the Red Ted Films website.

This week I completed a short promo about the extraordinary 'concert opera' Phaedra by Hans Werner Henze, which will be on the Barbican website shortly; interviewed Valery Gergiev ahead of his appearance with the CBSO in October; put together a rough edit from footage of the Belcea Quartet recording Schubert for EMI Classics; continued to assemble footage from 6 days of filming composer Karl Jenkins as he recorded his Christmas album; and planned future filming projects.

Some of those projects coming up are going to be huge fun. Tomorrow I'm with the CBSO and Andris Nelsons at Birmingham's Symphony Hall filming a viral ad for a big promo they've got planned (more details as they get announced) and later in October I'll be completing my filming of various members of the CBSO as they profile/demonstrate the different sections of the orchestra. That's for the CBSO's website, designed to be an approachable introduction to the instruments of the orchestra for audiences that might not know much about classical music.

Also in early October I'm making a film about Verdi's Don Carlos for Chandos. Instead of the standard 'behind-the-scenes' footage, we're producing a mini-documentary on the opera to sit alongside the recording. It'll feature principal singers Janice Watson and Julian Gavin, the conductor Richard Farnes and the broadcaster Stephen Johnson.

And then there's cricket. The LSO's Discovery department (education etc) is one of two organisations that will receive money from the Lord Mayor's Appeal Fund this year, together with The Cricket Foundation. I'm making a film about their joint project, Pitch Perfect, and one of the great pleasures to come will be a chance to film at Lords.

A more immediate pleasure is on Sunday. I'm hosting a pre-concert talk with the American composer John Adams at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on London's Southbank, before Adams conducts the London Sinfonietta in a concert of Cage, David Lang, Paul Dresher and the UK premiere of his own Son of Chamber Symphony. Here is Adams talking to me about the concert, filmed in New York in January.



Even though I've been doing this job for a long time now, I still get a thrill from working with people like John Adams. His 'The Chairman Dances' was the piece that made me want to write music again - I was a teenager, immersed in music 24/7, but getting bored; I'll never forget hearing the piece on Radio 3 and literally leaping out of my chair excited and desperate to get writing. Much later, when I was at the Royal Academy of Music as a composition student, Adams was one of the first composers to visit during the first term. He was there to rehearse the London Sinfonietta playing Fearful Symmetries and I sat in on the rehearsals, spellbound. It remains one of my favourite Adams pieces - a confection, but an exciting one and probably the grooviest piece he's ever written. It was certainly one of the most influential pieces on me and my work. In fact, listening to it now I notice more and more direct influences!

It's fascinating to listen to a piece like Fearful Symmetries, written in the late 1980s, and compare it to the music Adams is writing now. The move away from minimalism, during the years between, is gradual but deliberate and you could hardly call Adams a minimalist now (although that doesn't stop people in the press - journalists love a pidgeon hole). It serves no purpose to lump Adams in with Reich and Glass. Just listen to the rich, varied, tremendous score for Adams's recent opera, Doctor Atomic, probably the most exciting and stimulating musical experience I've had this year. It's a world away from the repetitive noodlings of Glass these days, and shows Adams to be that rare thing - a living composer who writes important, serious works, but is performed every day, all over the world.

If you're in London on Sunday and got a moment, join us at the Queen Elizabeth Hall. The talk starts at 6.15pm, concert at 7.30pm.

Only the Best Song Oscar

Those of you who, like me, follow the Academy Awards and the music categories in particular will probably view with relief the latest news - that only good songs will be nominated next year. According to the BBC website

New rules mean that every song entered must get a minimum score of 8.25 on a scale of six to 10 when voted for by Academy music members. "We're trying to improve the quality," said composer Bruce Broughton, head of the Academy's music branch.

Well about time too. So few songs are written for movies these days (let alone good ones) that it's got to the point where if you have a song in your movie you're practically guaranteed a nomination. There hasn't been a decent song that has won in years. The last 7 winners are:

'Jai Ho' from Slumdog Millionaire (bound to win, despite quality, on the back of film's success)
'Falling Slowly' from Once (wishy-washy but Irish, so Academy liked it)
'I Need to Wake Up' from An Inconvenient Truth (totally directionless and dull)
'It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp' from Hustle and Flow (a total disgrace - how did it win?!)
'On the Other Side of the River' from The Motorcycle Diaries (tinkly and dull but 'ethnic' to LA ears)
'Into the West' from Lord of the Rings (I'm still reeling from this one)
'Lose Yourself' from 8 Mile (every other song nominated was better)

Even 'If I Didn't Have You', which finally won Randy Newman his first Oscar, wasn't Newman's best (everyone knows he should've won 2 years before with 'When She Loved Me' from Toy Story 2 - one of the greatest narrative songs ever written for a movie).

So it's certainly time for a shake-up. Read the whole BBC website article HERE.

Of course, this means there is the distinct possibility of no songs being nominated next year, which would be quite fun. I guess it's a matter of taste. Presumably, Academy members could still give a song a high score if they wanted the film to get some notice (it's often the song that gets a nomination even if the film itself gets nothing else - that way, distributors can take advantage of the words 'Oscar Nominated...' on posters and in trailers).

But the whole situation reflects a general trend - songs aren't used in films much any more. Randy Newman is one of the very few who (a) gets films that ask for songs that are part of the story narrative and (b) is a good enough songwriter to cope with them. His songs always make a mark. But there aren't many others up to the job.

Even Slumdog Millionaire, which had music all over it, didn't actually use its Oscar-winning song within the film - it was a pop video style add-on at the end. Terrific dancing, but the song doesn't stand up to much scrutiny.

You can pour over all the nominations and winners in the Best Song category of the Academy Awards HERE. It makes interesting reading and trips many memories of old.