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National Finals 2002:
Championship Section
Test piece review: Masquerade by Philip Wilby
When Philip Wilby was asked by Bram Gay to write a test piece for
the 1993 British Open Championships, the idea of it being a tribute
to the great Giuseppe Verdi seemed like an opportunity to good to
miss. The tribute was not so much to the man himself, but rather
more in homage to what was the composers last great operatic work,
“Falstaff”, which was written in it’s final form
in 1894, when the Italian with highly common name of “Joe
Green” was aged 81.
Wilby set about burrowing away at the opera so that he could mould
his tribute from the colourful themes and arias it contained in
abundance, whilst he readily acknowledged that he would use “some
of Verdi’s music, and some of Shakespeare’s plot, and
woven them into a fabric with highly demanding music of my own to
produce a work in the great tradition of operatically based brass
band pieces”. He wasn’t wrong. There is music aplenty
(Verdi was a pretty good bloke when it came to writing a ditty),
but the piece has gained a place in banding folklore as something
of a “rock ‘ard” test piece rather than a great
bit of musical writing.
“Masquerade” in effect represents the high water mark
of technical brass band composition - a watermark that in 1993 was
felt by many to be too high for the bands of the day to reach. It
is without doubt the most detailed piece of brass writing that has
ever been written as a contest work (the term test piece has never
been so apt) and today, some ten years later, it is safe to say
that there will not be too many performances at the Albert Hall
that fully conquer the technical aspects of the work.
In 1993, there was just the one - Williams Fairey giving a scorching
performance that won the contest by four clear points (the biggest
winning margin for 35 years) and a performance that set that great
band up to win their last “Double” when they went on
to triumph at the Nationals a month or so later. There will be more
than just the sole scorcher this time around - but not many more,
and like the 1993 contest at the Free Trade Hall, a lot of debate
will surely centre around whether or not the audience, and especially
the judges will actually be able to hear the detail that the piece
demands.
The acoustics at the Free Trade Hall were never perhaps the greatest
for sure, but in comparison to the Royal Albert Hall they were almost
perfect. Given that the “box” this year may be some
50 yards or more from the stage, it will be debatable whether much,
or any for that matter of the real hidden detail will even be heard.
There is a deep suspicion that bands know this too well and will
forgo the opportunity of displaying their abilities to make the
detail count in exchange for the chance to make “effects”.
Clarity and precision are likely to be exchanged for sheer sound
and aural effect, and whilst you cannot blame the bands for doing
this (any attempt at subtlety will surely be lost in the cavernous
boom of the auditorium) you can ask yourself why was the work chosen
in the first place. As many people pointed out about the music at
the British Open, it is possibly the wrong piece for the wrong place.
The music itself portrays the characters found in the Shakespeare
play to full effect. Falstaff is something of a loveable rogue,
all beer and boasting - every public house in the land has one -
he’s the type who always butts into a private conversation
with, “I could have done that”. There is also a darker
side to him also, as an be found in some of his less salubrious
features which the Bard explored in the “Henry” plays.
He is never a great Shakespearean leading character, but one who
tends to “steal”. the odd scene or two and the plot
as such surrounds his downfall at the hands of those people he has
wronged once too often.
The scene is Windsor Great Park and Falstaff, ever boastful and
full of himself has been lured for what he believes is a bit of
“inflagrante delicto” dressed up as Herne the Hunter
with a lady of none too respectful a reputation. All those wishing
to get one over the old oaf also come dressed up in various disguises
from hobgoblins to fairies, and so the music becomes a surreal picture
of a somewhat alcohol induced party in the park. Whoever thought
18 - 30 holidays were something new eh?
Wilby explores the characters involved in many ways, with the three
trombones representing Falstaff’s companions, the solo cornet
becoming the love interest (or tease as the case maybe) and the
euphonium playing the fat horny old goat himself. It is very clever
descriptive writing - fiendishly difficult for all concerned, whilst
you get the feeling that the chattering and suppressed giggling
that is illustrated by the percussion interjections signifies the
voyeurs peeing themselves at how stupid everyone looks.
There is detail everywhere throughout the score - much of it at
low dynamic levels, whilst the percussion adds colour (and alcohol
induced hiccups in the form of the whiskey bottle in F) that drives
the music on. The troms feature early and the bass trombone players
will find themselves literally gasping like asthmatics after their
little playful interjection after letters D and G. Bass troms nowadays
have so big a bore (the instruments size, not the player themselves
it must be added - although in some cases…..) that their feature
will take some playing to come over clean and accurate.
The fulcrum of the piece however is to be found with the euph solo
cadenza after J - and it will be here that perhaps the chance to
win, or lose the Nationals will come. There are many fine players
on show in London, but you can guarantee most of them will be shaking
in their shoes and wishing they were elsewhere come this Piu Mosso.
In 1993 many euph players took something of the easy option and
got a bit of help from their fellow 2nd euph to help them out -
this led to the cadenza sounding disjointed and lacked any real
sense of style, so it will be interesting if this occurs again.
The pinnacle moment comes towards its end with a series of four
ever increasing two note groups, starting with an octave D - D,
moving to a 13th, a 17th and then finally three octaves - bloody
hard at any time of the day or night for sure - and as it is also
marked pianissimo lento dolce, nigh on impossible for all but the
very best, and bravest of players. Those who do manage it with by
actually observing the markings should be bought free drinks by
their band for the rest of the weekend at least!
After this comes a beautiful little interlude that will require
bands to take immense risks in dynamics to make come off, with the
sop players having to cope with a real bum clencher solo motif just
before letter M. Do not be surprised if the overall dynamic levels
are not quite as marked on your study score. If a band makes the
Adagio section before O come off though it will sound magical. Triple
piano, with the sop shimmering like the moon itself on a top A,
this section portrays the moon rising in the night sky as Falstaff
prepares to reveal himself (musically it must be said, unlike that
old Labour MP on Clapham Common). If it works then brilliant - if
not and it’s safety first, it could sound more like “Shine
on Harvey Moon”.
Then bedlam strikes as Falstaff is caught with his trousers around
his proverbial ankles and everyone has a turn of poking fun at the
old fool with a series of turns, pinches and mockery. Falstaff,
realising he’s been done up like a kipper though takes it
all on the chin (or three in his case) and bellows the famous “All
the World’s a Joke” line, which just like those hackneyed
American sitcoms means that everyone laughs with him rather than
at him and it’s off for a jolly romp home hand in hand after
having a splendid time without the aid of artificial stimulants
of any kind.
The run for home though contains some crackingly hard writing and
many a band will come a cropper in the final section from V onwards.
The last six bars in particular will show how good a band really
is when their lips are down to their knees. It is almost cruel.
Get that out of the way and it’s a big bash of an ending -
although the last three notes are semi quavers and not tenuto crotchets
as many will try and play as they eek out the last bit of drama
from the piece.
There should be plenty of applause and the winning band will as
the libretto itself says “…. he laughs best who has
the last laugh!”
“Masquerade” is an amazing piece of brass band writing
- perhaps a touch too amazing for the acoustics of the Albert Hall
it must be said, and it will be a great pity (and a disservice to
the music) if bands opt to try and blow their way through it rather
than try to capture the essential wit of the music. The humour of
Verdi’s “Falstaff” is rather black and slightly
disturbing - more “League of Gentlemen” than “The
Fast Show” - so we can only hope the bands take their lead
and try impress by using musical intelligence rather then going
for a belly laugh with the old pie in the face routine.
© 4BarsRest
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