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LONDON CONTEMPORARY DANCE THEATRE
 
 
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Troy Game CD  
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THE MUSIC OF TROY GAME

In 1980 Robert North approached me with the task of creating a live-music score for the forthcoming Royal Ballet version of his choreography Troy Game, at Covent Garden.  He had previously set the dance to pre-recorded Batucada music from Brazil, but for this occasion he needed live music.  I decided that I would need to find a team of expert latin percussionists to handle the situation. Looking through my London contacts I was certain of who could perform the music.  A preliminary meeting was scheduled at Covent Garden.  I expected to run into obstacles from the music administration, and was prepared for some kind of disapproval in using microphones to amplify the instruments.
 
Much to my surprise however, the orchestral managers were eager to try using a sound system, even though Opera House acoustics were ‘nearly perfect’.  I was also told that the orchestra had an abundant supply of qualified percussionists.  Some of them were experienced in café-orchestra latin-music styles such as cha-cha, bolero, rhumba and the like.  They were ‘professional’ and would be keen to have a go.  In fact, it was ‘policy’ to employ the musicians of the Opera orchestra before any musicians from the ‘outside’ could be brought in.  My heart sank. The idea of orchestral musicians playing authentic Brazilian percussion music seemed an anomaly.  After a fair amount of consideration and negotiation, we agreed that I could use as many orchestral percussionists as I wanted, but I was allowed an additional supplement of three soloists, ‘experts’ in latin-style percussion instruments.  I wondered if the project seemed ambitious, perhaps even foolish, but it was a challenge that somehow I imagined I could accomplish.

The orchestra eventually became nine percussionists and a conductor, and grew a little larger by the time we added a small string and woodwind section to play the short piece of music written by Bob Downes, usually performed live at a Troy Game performance.  The rehearsal dates were set, and an exotic collection of ethnic percussion instruments were gathered to facilitate the music. They were simple instruments, yet required considerable training to play at a sophisticated level.  The Royal Ballet musicians would have to prepare in advance.  This music required specialist knowledge.  I worried that perhaps they would be too busy to do the research. How could we convince those musicians to play with the degree of expertise and panache required?  It was going to be a brave new world.

I knew that I must write new music that would integrate the various abilities of the musicians that were on hand.  I felt that I was composing a new score, yet it was modeled on recordings.  I re-negotiated my contract accordingly.  It was music that went beyond reading.  It had to be felt, interpreted and hopefully improvised.  To complicate matters, there were precious few rehearsals allocated between the orchestra and the dancers.  The dance was set, and was an exact count of the previous music already existing on tape.  There was no time to fuss over missing beats or bars.   In addition, the sounds of percussion instruments are exposed for all to hear.  It is continuously bold and lively, not the usual kind of thing orchestral percussionists are required to play in a ballet setting. The music had to be seamless.

During the first music rehearsal, we all discovered the enormity of the challenge.  The music sounded phenomenally limp.  The conductor and I were a little worried owing to the potential embarrassment it could cause.  I didn’t know whether the musicians barely tolerated or hated the music.  Owing to an unexpected absence of the conductor,  I was asked to conduct the orchestra at the second rehearsal.  It was my first time in an Opera House, with a baton in my hand.  Now it was I who was nervous, both as a composer and a conductor. I gave the first downbeat, but no one made a sound.  My heart sank to my shoes.  Somehow, I managed an apology for my lack of experience in art of conducting.  After that, we got off to a better start and the music began to fall into place.

What the dancers experience of our music was, I’ve never been told, but finally by opening night confidence was running high.  The orchestra did the very best they could do, and I played alongside the soloists.  We brought in a special sound system, with many microphones and a mixing board to amplify the smaller instruments that had to compete with the louder drums.  This wonderful addition had the effect of making the music even livelier than in rehearsals.  On opening night, the audience applauded in several places, laughed in others, reacting hopefully to what was happening on stage with the dancers.  The music was well received.  I think the orchestra members came away with some appreciation of the craftsmanship of Brazilian percussion music, not to mention it’s limitless and seductive rhythmic possibilities.  We finished with smiles on our faces. If not played exactly with all of the appropriate Brazilian nuances, the music was well played, rendered enthusiastically, perhaps a British salute to foreign shores.  



07 FEBRUARY 2006
 
               
photo:  Anthony Crickmay