In the end I did not manage to get the new orchestral piece finished yesterday. I spent six hours in rehearsal with various players of the wonderful Southbank Sinfonia, added notes to Brindisi where and when I could, and then headed back to Somerset in the evening sunshine.
My blog is therefore late today because I have been composing all morning. I have said to SBS that they will have the parts today to send out to the players, but the more I add the more I want to add, just to make sure that all the detail is right. Definitely by tomorrow, definitely…
This will probably mean that there will be a provisional and final version of the piece, with all the complications that entails in terms of making sure that all concerned have the correct version, but at least it means that the players will have nearly two weeks to get ahead before the first rehearsal.
At this wonderful time of year I just love having the Wimbledon tennis on in the background, not just because there is something I find gripping about the mental contests on display, but also because it reminds me of a very specific time in my life in the early 90s when I shared a flat with my father after he and my mother divorced.
In that rather inelegantly brief period before he flung himself into a disastrous second marriage my father and I forged a tranquil relationship – I would do my writing at home and then join him for a glass of something soothing after he had finished work. Part of the soundtrack to that unexpectedly happy summer was the Wimbledon commentary on Radio 5.
My incoming stepmother, fired from the post shortly after her trial period had ended, arrived and took not very long to tell me that it was about time I got a proper job, and from that remark came the seedling of my move to London and everything that has come thereafter. The piece that I am writing may have changed and is hopefully better than some of my over earnest youthful endeavours, but Wimbledon always takes me back.