>>Charles Hazlewood: What a great pleasure
to be with you all. As you've heard, I am
a conductor. And I want to talk to you principally
today about trust, that most fundamental gel
in all human relationships and the thing upon
which my job absolutely depends.
There has to be an unshakeable bond of trust
between me and an orchestra through which
and within which it is imperative that we
all believe in.
Now, it hasn't always been like this. Up to
and around about the second world war, conducting
was less about trust and more about coercion.
Conductors were tyrannical figures who would
rehearse not just the orchestra as a whole
but each individual element within it within
an inch of their lives. Where to breathe,
how to breathe, how to color a phrase, et
cetera. Very little room for personal response
and personal input.
Largely, of course, the world has moved on
from the dictator paradigm, music's moved
on with it, and the conductor/orchestra relationship
now is much more about a two-way street, a
shared vision.
I, as the conductor, have to come to the rehearsal
with a cast iron sense of the outer architecture
of a piece of music within which, then, in
rehearsal there's enormous personal freedom
for each and every member of the ensemble
to shine.
It's a wonderful thing.
And, you know, when people say to me, "What
instrument do you play," I say, "Well, I -- I
play the orchestra."
'Tis a wonderful thing, isn't it. Because
this orchestra is kind of intangible. It's
not like I'm actually holding something. All
I have is air. I move air around and I use
my body. After all, at the point of sale,
the gig, I can hardly shout out instructions.
[ Music ]
>>Charles HazlewoodLadies and gentlemen, members
of the Southbank Sinfonia.
[ Applause ]
>>Charles HazlewoodWell, that's all well and
good, isn't it, that trust bond between the
conductor and the orchestra. But before any
of that can work, I have first to trust myself.
Now, think about it. When you don't trust
yourself, what do you do? You -- you overcompensate.
You almost exaggerate the truth in order to
get your point across. And in my game, that
means you over-gesticulate.
In the early days of my career I spent a lot
of time flailing around like a giant windmill
in the hope that the orchestra might just
get a teeny bit louder for me. Now very quickly,
there's no trust in the room in that situation.
Rather, I have become a figure of fun.
And I remember a joke which a particularly
pernicious member of an orchestra in the early
days of my career decided to share with me,
and it goes as follows:
He said, "Charles, what do you think is the
difference between a bull and an orchestra?"
I said, "Oh, I don't know. What is the difference
between a bull and an orchestra?"
He said, "Well, with a bull, the horns are
at the front and the asshole is at the back."
[ Laughter ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: You can imagine that
joke turned my gut to water. And how futile
seemed the words of advice I received around
about that time from the great veteran British
conductor, Sir Colin Davis, who sadly recently
died.
He said, "Charles, you got to remember that
conducting is a bit like holding a small bird
in your hand. You hold it too tightly, you
crush it. You hold it too loosely and it flies
away."
Well, in those early days, I couldn't even
really find the bird.
Anyhow, time has moved on, I have found some
position of self-trust, and therefore, of
course, things flow much more naturally and
easily and healthily between me and an orchestra.
And everything, of course, that I've glimpsed
so strongly is that music is a beautiful metaphor
for life. It is, after all, the most universal
language we have. Way beyond any dialect or
tongue.
You can play a tune to a child in Beijing.
You can play the same tune to a child in Cape
Town.
Despite the enormous differences in experience
and cultural background between those two
children, they will draw some of the same
truths from that melody.
So music is this wonderful universal thing,
and in the context of an orchestra or any
other kind of healthy and well-oiled musical
organism, there are two things at play, aren't
there. There's the tremendous paramount importance
of individual contribution, each and every
one, but there is that amazing thrilling pull
of the collective.
Now, I've learned a lot about that with a
recent project of mine, which has been also
about building trust where there is none.
My youngest child was born just over six years
ago with cerebral palsy, so what she's done,
aside from just being a beautiful little human
being, is she's introduced me to a whole community
of people which I had not thought about before.
In other words, the community of disabled
people. And I'm thinking to myself "Okay.
So I've been conducting orchestras around
the world for over 20 years now. How many
musicians with a disability have I found in
any of those groups in that 20-year period?"
And the answer is I can remember three.
Now, you can't tell me that there aren't millions
of prodigiously gifted musicians who happen
to be disabled. So where on Earth are they?
Where is their platform?
Now, this was about 18 months ago and of course
there was a big event coming to London which
was still fairly far in the future at that
point which was the London 2010 Paralympics,
an amazing moment in time where this initiative,
which I'm proud to say was a British one,
was coming home to London.
But let's not forget that it's taken over
50 years for the world to come into a position
of trust with Paralympian sport, to actually
believe that it's not about the therapeutic
benefits of those taking part. No, it's about
world-class sportsmanship.
Now, 2012 was an amazing moment celebrate
that, and there can't any longer be an intelligent
person anywhere on the planet who doesn't
believe in the absolute value of Paralympian
sport.
So here I am, a musician. I'm thinking, "Yeah,
sport is pretty universal. Music more so.
So why on Earth are there not brilliantly
gifted musicians with disability playing in
all the leading orchestras around the world
and every other equivalent ensemble?"
So I thought with the Paralympics coming to
London, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity
to try and make a difference, to shine a big
bright light on this issue.
So I formed a group called the British Paraorchestra,
which is, believe it or not, the world's first
ever pan-disabled ensemble which has two particular
kind of objectives. Firstly, to create a platform
for brilliantly gifted musicians who are disabled,
but secondarily and of equal importance is
to change the perspectives of the world around
us.
I just want to show you a little very brief
film clip of this amazing moment when the
paraorchestra played at the closing ceremony
of the London 2012 Paralympic games.
[ Video starts ]
>>> Please give them a great big warm welcome,
the British Paraorchestra.
[ Music ]
>>> It's such fun being able to play again.
>>> When I'm making music, I feel like the
pilot in a cockpit flying an airplane. I become
alive.
>>> Yeah. It's removed some of the paralysis.
>>> Every single person on stage has had a
primary hand in its creation.
>>> There's very much more to it than their
disability.
>>> Where, then, are the platforms for brilliant
musicians who happen to be disabled, just
as there are amazing sporting platforms?
[ Singing ]
>>> I hope that we're just going to grow and
grow together. You know, we can grow into
something very, very, very special and I'm
just hoping that the world will see how we're
trying to change people's perceptions.
[ Music ]
[ Cheers and applause ]
>>> You could watch and listen to them all
day, the Paralympic orchestra playing here
in London.
[ Video ends ]
[ Applause ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: So as I said to you -- thank
you.
As I said to you just now this project was
so much about building trust where there is
none. I've never had to campaign so hard for
a single thing in my entire life. I was baroquing
at Number 10 Downing Street, I was baroquing
at the Department of Culture, Media & Sport,
the British Paralympic Association, the organizing
committees who were in charge of the ceremonies
around the games. And in the back of everyone's
mind there seemed to be the same fundamental
thought, often not actually articulated because
it's too embarrassing. That thought was, "Hmm,
I don't trust you that it will be any good.
You know, sure, it might be therapeutic, it
might be nice and warm and fluffy for the
people taking part, but will the music be
any good?"
Well, you can imagine how rabidly angry that
made me, and after one heck of a lot of persistence,
finally the walls started to come down.
Now, this group has shown me again of the
power of music as a way of enforcing, enhancing,
and making healthy community. And being as
this session is a lot about community, I thought
I'd explore that just for a minute a little
bit further.
There is something about singing which is
so fundamentally important, and I've done
a lot of work over the years in South Africa,
the most dizzyingly musical country on the
planet, where pretty much everyone sings about
pretty much everything pretty much all the
time.
I mean, in the quasi-culture there are probably
300 songs for doing the washing up. Can you
imagine how many there are for a circumcision
ritual? I mean, literally thousands.
To give you an example of this, I set up an
opera company out of (saying name) South Africa
about 12 years ago, and in the first week
of the proper rehearsals, two of them died
completely without any prior warning. I don't
think they knew that they were ill and we
didn't either. Of course it was HIV. And we
pulled the company together as a whole to
tell them this news.
There was an initial hysterical response,
but very quickly someone began to sing, someone
else joined in, and someone else, and within
five minutes, everyone in the room was singing.
And that group of people sang fairly constantly
for about 72 hours and then they were over
it. They were ready to move on.
So it's not so facetious, is it, to claim
that actually if the whole world sang just
a little bit every day, we'd have so far fewer
problems.
I mean, the British Parliament, imagine if
those MPs had to have a good old sing before
they got debating, things would move more
easily, wouldn't they.
Now, I think you can see where this is leading.
I think we need to do a little singing, ladies
and gentlemen.
Those of you that are not from the U.K. have
probably noticed there's a dominant hallmark
to the British, which is that we are quietly
melancholic as a race. You know, our weather
is a bit rubbish. Our national cuisine is
certainly not of the best. We're glumly accepting,
right? We are glumly accepting which is why
we've never had a revolution here. You know,
it's kind of all right. So of course we're
enthralled with melancholic tune, and I've
got a lovely one that I want to share with
you now. It goes like this. Have a listen.
"Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose.
When shall I see thee wed?
Aye, marry, that thou wilt.
When I am dead."
Two people, right? One singing to Rose and
he's singing Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose, when
are you going to get married, "When shall
I see thee wed?"
Rose responds, "Aye, marry, that thou wilt,
when I am dead."
Clearly, Rose ain't never going to get married.
Okay. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give it
a little try. I'm going to sing you a phrase
and I want you to put your backs into it and
sing it back to me, okay? Shut off your left
brain and engage your right brain, ladies
and gentlemen.
Here we go.
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose. You go.
>>> Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose.
>>Charles HazlewoodWhen shall I see thee wed?
>>> When shall I see thee wed?
>>Charles HazlewoodAye, marry, that thou wilt.
>>> Aye, marry, that thou wilt.
>>Charles HazlewoodWhen I am dead.
>>> When I am dead.
>>Charles HazlewoodAll together now.
"Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose.
When shall I see thee wed.
Aye, marry, that thou wilt.
When I am dead."
Yeah. You see, music is all about narrative.
It's all about storytelling. Right? It's a
perfect little kind of piece of narrative
here in front of us.
It's sets out it's story, "Rose, Rose, Rose,"
and there's a little bit of heating up, "when
shall I see thee wed," climax, the hot point,
the punch line of this narrative, "Aye, marry,
that thou wilt." You hear that, "wilt"? I
saw that the X-Factor scoop.
[ Laughter ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: Guaranteed to make people
feel sorry to you, to emote on your behalf.
"Aye, marry, that thou wilt." You need maximum
traction on that line, ladies and gentlemen.
And then a lovely little kind of droopy payoff,
"when I am dead."
Okay. So with that mind, let us sing again.
Okay. Are we ready?
"Rose" -- come on! Yes!
>>> Rose, Rose, when shall I see thee wed?
>>Charles HazlewoodOkay. We're building. Yes!
Climax.
>>> Aye, marry, that thou wilt.
When I am dead.
>>Charles Hazlewood: Very nice. Now, ladies
and gentlemen, would you trust me if I said
I could now get you singing that in three-part
harmony? Would you trust me?
I think you should, ladies and gentlemen.
I have, after all, got all evening.
[ Laughter ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: Okay. So we're going
to set up that lovely piece of music with
which the orchestra started this session,
and then we're going to vet this over the
top. We are going to say that you are Group
1, and then after a phrase, you will come
in, Group 2, and then finally, Group 3 -- no
pressure -- you will come in last, so of course
that means you will finish our little ditty.
Let's have a healthy sense of competition
in the room. Let's make sure each group is
better than the last, okay?
So here we are.
[ Music ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: Okay. Find your oxygen.
Here we go. Now.
"Rose, Rose, Rose" --
Group 2.
"Rose, Rose, Rose" --
Come on --
And again.
Shall we call that the dress rehearsal?
Yes. On your feet, ladies and gentlemen. Come
on, get off your lazy butts and let's do this
properly.
Do you know what? There's a little lacking
of cohesion with pulse, ladies and gentlemen.
You need to feel that beat coursing through
your veins, right?
As I said I've got all evening. Okay. Once
again.
Three, four...
[ Music ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: Don't disappoint me.
Three, four...
"Rose, Rose, Rose" --
Better that.
"Rose, Rose, Rose"...
And "Rose, Rose, Rose"...
Come on.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. The church
of Google. You saw it here, you saw it now.
[ Applause ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: So my parting shot comes
courtesy of the great Joseph Haydn, one of
the most extraordinary composers of the second
half of the 18th century and a composer that
spent the bulk of his life as almost an indentured
employee of a prince who had two palaces,
one in Vienna and one right on the border
of the Austro-Hungarian empire, a place called
Eszterhaza.
Now, it was this country palace where the
prince liked to spend most of his time, and
of course where he was, there was all his
retinue, and certainly Haydn and the orchestra.
Now, one day in 1772, the prince decreed that
he no wanted the orchestral musicians' families
to live at the country palace. They were going
to be sent back to Vienna, which was of course
calamitous for Haydn and for the orchestra
and they were absolutely distraught, the fact
that they were going to be split up from their
families. Haydn remonstrated with the prince,
but to know avail.
So given that the prince loved his music,
Haydn thought he'd write a symphony to make
the point, a symphony which has the musicians
peeling off, leaving in a kind of sullen revolt,
and I'm happy to say that as a result of the
symphony, the prince did a U-turn on his policy
and all ended up being well.
And I think this -- this piece of music sums
up what I've been trying to say quite well,
that where there is trust, there is music,
and by extension, life, vitality, hope.
Where there is no trust, the music quite simply
withers away.
[ Music ]
[ Applause ]
>>Charles Hazlewood: Thank you.
Bravo, guys, bravo.
