‘To see oursels as others see us!’
When in 2001 Colin Bradbury asked me to write something on clarinettists for a clarinet magazine that he edited, I accepted for a host of reasons, not least that I have always found clarinettists likeable and very agreeable company and that Colin is as fine an example of the type you could wish to find. We first worked together in the Sadlers Wells Opera Orchestra in the late 50s (becoming the English National Opera in the 60s) before I went off to the London Symphony and he to the BBC Symphony. The short quote from Robert Burns simply describes what I am up to in this short character study... which is just what Colin asked for !
The first clarinettist I can remember meeting and getting to know, during my very early days as a student at the Royal Academy, was Ian Herbert. Funny, sometimes mordantly so, friendly and great company, he was also doing his time in a Guards Band. Soon after re-entering the real world he was to disappear down the musical coalmine at Covent Garden, over the years occasionally surfacing, blinking, into the light, at various freelance sessions. Similarly at the RAM, Tom Kelly, of whom I saw much over the years, both in the LSO and in the studios, was always enjoyable company, personally and musically. He played for me a good deal during the years, much later, when I ran my own orchestra, the Wren. In my first trumpet job, at Sadlers Wells opera, Colin Bradbury was the incumbent of the Principal Clarinet Chair. Also funny and friendly, he always exuded, and no doubt still exudes, an urbane charm that I never saw punctured. And so it continued as I moved on -- to the LSO and to all the bits and pieces of studio work -- clarinet players all showing the same characteristics of humour, charm and a full human character. These three in particular set the level at which I thereafter came to appreciate the species homo clarinettus. And the curiosity is that all clarinettists display the same traits, more so, in my judgement, than with other instruments.
Gervase de Peyer, Ronald Moore and Steve Trier were the sitting members at the LSO when I arrived there in 1960 and remained so for some time in their differing ways. Gervase appeared when he chose … and when he chose he was usually five minutes late with a loud first name greeting to the conductor, beaming a wide grin at the rest of us which good-naturedly suggested that it was extraordinary that we had arrived already! A cavalier performer who always drove his clarinet with exhilarating abandon through the chicanes of the Weber Concerti in particular, has left a unique image behind. Steve, who appeared when required either by Bass Clarinet, Saxophone or other extra parts, was a very fine performer indeed on his specialist instruments. A man of lugubrious face and vast horticultural knowledge, he was very happy to pass his know-how on freely, together with exotic samples of his most favourite plant, the potato. Ronnie Moore, ever present both as Sub-Principal and as a Board Member, was truly one of nature’s gentlemen, never less than a delight.
Later, when Gervase’ developing solo career took him away from the Orchestra, firstly Bernard Walton and then Jack Brymer joined. Bernard’s early and very unexpected death was truly a shock … again, with his own very distinct personality, Bernard had displayed all those characteristics of clarinettists that I have listed above. If Jack Brymer is special in this list, then I am sure, dear reader, you will understand, if only because of the scope of his achievement in different fields of music. If Gervase was the Denis Compton of the clarinet, then Jack was the Hutton, Edrich, May and Cowdrey rolled into one. (I say ‘was’, when I mean ‘was’ in my memory.)
With all these musicians I was also aware of artistic gravitas of the most valuable kind, the day-by-day rolling up of experience and talent which is priceless. They knew when to play, how to play, and how to frame a solo. The instrument was not played by these performers in the modern manner.… that is by waving it frantically in the air as if playing a squeezebox …. they moved only to communicate the phrase.
In mentioning these artists whose playing I knew intimately, I am of course leaving aside many whose playing I didn’t come to know simply for reasons that our paths didn’t cross too often. To my ear Thea King always commanded attention at the very highest level on the occasions when I heard her play. As for those who didn’t make it, I have it on good authority that Colin Davis received his knighthood to console him for failing to master the highest levels of the craft. (Excitability is a difficult trait to blend into the classical clarinet player’s character.)
For a suitable example to underline the clarinettist’s self-discipline in general, and Ronnie Moore’s impeccable behaviour in particular, I can retail the following anecdote which perfectly fits the clarinettist as a type. I was the third person present and can vouch for its truth. In January 1973 the LSO undertook a three week American tour. When we touched down for an en route stop at Boston, Ronnie was given the news that his wife, Elizabeth had suffered a stroke and was in a critical condition. Of course he returned home at once, but very soon, while we were away, she died. Ronnie sensibly decided to pick up his life as soon as possible after the Orchestra’s return and reappeared to play the first concert on our return to London. In conversation back stage at the RFH, the other person in the trio was offering condolences to Ronnie for his loss. The conversation briefly halted, after which this person (a woodwind player I hasten to add, but not a clarinettist) continued with the comment …
‘but I suppose there’s one consolation,’
… Ronnie’s eyebrows paused briefly before lifting noticeably ….
‘Ye-e-e-s, what’s that?’ Ronnie said, a little more slowly than usual,
‘You missed a bloody awful tour!’
Ronnie allowed himself a glance at me and politely excused himself. Possibly only a clarinettist could have displayed such sang-froid in that situation.
So there you have it. Clarinettists? Calm, humour, dash, intelligence, gravitas …. what more can I say? Aristocrats.
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