http://leeds.academia.edu/JenniferDaniel/Papers/126515/Today-s-Leaver–An-experience-of-school-in-England-  (should you be so inclined).

In November I was invited to form a panel with my supervisor from the School of Performance and Cultural Industries Dr Kara McKechnie and Opera North’s Head of Education Becky Walsh, to talk about ‘Enterprising Creativity’ and innovative collaboration between the arts in HE and industry.  This was an interdisciplinary arts conference in Leeds run by research postgraduates from the school of English and our very own Caroline Lucas.  It was most informative and enjoyable, with many presenters making international journeys to speak here in Leeds.  Our (more local) panel presented on the work done by Opera North in education, the partnership between Opera North and the University of Leeds (www.dareyou.org.uk), and the AHRC Collaborative Doctoral Awards held by myself and Adam Strickson, between the university and the company.  I talked about my ethnographic approaches to the study of Opera North’s new commissions, in the processes of construction and in performance.  I later went on to present revised and expanded versions of the talk for different audiences in the School of Music, and in the School of PCI, although Caroline came to every one!  Now that’s support for you!

More recently, March was a month of frantic activity, kicking off with another operatic ‘Angel’ by Adam Strickson, this one green.  For Green Angel Adam collaborated with postgraduate composer Lauren Redhead.  I played the part of Ash/Green/ensemble, a kind of off-stage consciousness to another performing version of the same character voiced by Aniko Toth, in the tradition of the Japanese ‘Noh’ play.  Other Leeds students involved were Katherine Jarvis from the College of Music as Old Woman, and from the University Emi Ergin on ‘cello, Jorge Balça as movement advisor and 2^nd year performance design students from PCI who created fantastic costumes and set.  After more than three days of solid rehearsal and back-breaking hard work, we gave a workshop première as part of the New Stages festival on 6 March.  It was well received, with some very positive comments from a great many university staff including Head of PCI Susan Daniels, and I think Adam and Lauren were pleased with the performance.  Watch out for the full, staged version in the Howard Assembly Room in January!

I managed barely a week of normality before I was off to Seinäjoki, Finland for an international symposium, ‘Musicology in the 3rd Millennium’ organised by the Sibelius Academy and the University Consortium of Seinäjoki in collaboration with The Finnish Musicological Society and The Finnish Society for Ethnomusicology.  It was a wonderful event, and a very exciting journey; I could hardly believe the quantity of snow on the ground, in places it was cleared to the roadside where the level higher than my head!  I was put in mind of the libretto (based on a Finnish folk tale) of the opera Swanhunter, on which I was due to present:

By ice, through snow, Lemminkäinen comes North!  This is North!

The story of Lemminkäinen’s journey North, adapted by Middleton and Dove for the opera, came to life for me in the harsh beauty of the Finnish landscape.  I particularly noted the objections of the character of Lemminkäinen’s Mother who voices her prophetic concern, very early in the piece, that he will ‘catch his death’.  Luckily my mother had lent me good pair of snow boots, so less cause for worry.  The paper was well received and I was also fortunate to meet some fantastic scholars, including, from Italy Prof. Franco Fabbri, from America Prof. Marc Perlman, and from Cambridge Prof. Georgina Born.  I also met a vast array of Nordic scholars, and discovered the huge academic discipline in Finland of Musical Anthropology with particular focus on Finnish folk.  In some Finnish universities, whole departments are devoted to this type of ethnographic study.  This rediscovery of a national folklore is of enormous importance to Finland as a relatively young independent nation, having been subsumed historically in cultural terms by Sweden, and later occupied by Russia.  It was fascinating to see the growth of an academic discipline in the arts according to wider political and cultural need.  The evening activities put on by the conference organisers were as exciting as the event itself: a buffet at the Törnävä Manor and meeting the mayor and town officials; a fantastic pop-folk fusion band, Pauli Hanhiniemi & Hehkumo, at a new local club and arts-education venue, Rytmikorjaamo (Rhythm Garage); and a wonderful conference dinner with a comedic folk-cabaret performance by Finnish folk students. 

PHOTOGRAPH BY DR J MARK PERCIVAL

Some of the official ‘round-table’ panels were also very unusual, with a discussion predicting the future of popular music production and consumption in Finland, including academics from Finland and the UK, and also top industry professionals: Kimmo Valtanen, Head of Sony, Finland, and Tomi Saarinen, Head of Music at the national radio station, YleX. 

Perhaps even more surprising were the local connections with Leeds and my home town, Liverpool.  Many of those scholars working in areas of popular musics referred to the work of Liverpool academics and the IASPM conference there in July 2009.  I also met a fellow presenter at Seinäjoki, Dr Markus Mantere, who had attended the Leeds conference, ‘Music and the Idea of the North’ in September 2008, and was eager to talk to me about the work of Professors Derek Scott and Rachel Cowgill.

A few days after my return to the UK I was required to travel South to Guildford to another conference, ‘Trans.form@work‘ on experimental methodologies and interdisciplinary challenges in arts research.  I presented another paper, this time concentrating on ethnographic interview technique with ‘high-level’ culture creators such as composers and librettists.  The main focus of the conference, however, was contemporary scholarship of dance.  Potentially a parallel with opera studies, it was interesting to observe this infant discipline evolving and scholars discussing and deciding in which directions it should progress.  Dance scholarship has much in common with that of music: there are issues of notation and permanence for a medium which is essentially ephemeral; issues of authorship and control between ‘composer’ or choreographer and performer; and the conflict in education and training between reflection on artistry and the physical requirements to repeat, practice, develop muscle-memory and technique.  I came away surprised at the amount we held in common, and intrigued by the process of development of a young discipline.

April will be a slightly quieter month for me (thank goodness!) and then in May I’ll be jetting off to Copenhagen as part of the Leeds Faculty of Performance, Visual Arts and Communications international PhD training course with the Universities of Oslo and Copenhagen, which will focus on writing PhDs on identities and cultures.  I have no idea what to expect from Denmark, but after such a marvellous experience in Finland, I am very excited once again to be journeying North!

Also my students will be playing Cuban music at Clothworkers Centenary Concert Hall, School of Muisc, University of Leeds on 12 March 2010 – info can be found be clicking on this link: http://www.charangasue.com/2009/12/cuban-music-big-band-free-concert-12-march-2010/

Original scholarly articles and book reviews

The term was jam-packed with new experiences for me. First of all I had to go through the transfer process to assess my work so far and make sure I was on track for the next two years. After minor panics beforehand it all went OK and I was given the go ahead to continue my studies and be registered as a fully fledged PhD student. The next challenge involved a lecture theatre full of first year undergrads, I will not forget the feeling of fear when the room fell silent and twenty-five pairs of eyes were on me. I’m not a particularly nervous speaker and have experience of presenting and performing, but this was something different. I began teaching seminar groups for a couple of first year modules, one exploring the historical and cultural study of music and another practical module in songwriting. Once I got into my stride I found that I really enjoyed it, and it was really satisfying when the students responded positively and enthusiastically… then came the marking! 

Another new experience involved organising a conference with a couple of English Postgrad students. The conference ‘Enterprising Creativity’ was held over a couple of days at University of Leeds and explored innovation in research in the Arts and Humanities. The conference was aimed at postgraduate students and we had delegates representing a range of disciplines from across the world. Once this conference was over I had to jump straight on a plane to present at a conference with a very different subject matter, Metal. Heavy Fundamentalisms: Music, Metal and Politics 2 was organised by Interdisciplinary.net and hosted in beautiful Salzburg. What a great excuse to go to Austria, talk about Metal and drink beer for a few days! As a 2nd year PhD student this was my first experience of a conference out of England, and the nerves which had developed before arrival were quickly forgotten after the first night in the beer hall at the Augustine monastery! The atmosphere was incredibly positive and there was genuine excitement, interest and encouragement from and for all of the speakers – which made a pleasant change! I made contact with some really interesting people who approached the study of Metal from multiple perspectives, and the opportunity to write a collaborative journal article with a couple of Metal scholars has also come out of the event. A draft of my paper ‘White Power Black Metal and Me: reflections on Composing the Nation’ can be downloaded from http://www.inter-disciplinary.net/critical-issues/ethos/music-metal-politics/conference-programme-abstracts-and-papers/session-2-a-nation-of-metal-power-nationalisms-and-myth/ - although it will eventually be available within an ebook of the conference proceedings. 

Metal Scholars in the Beer Hall of the Augustine Monastery, Salzburg

 The term also featured an interesting meeting of our reading group, looking at the construction of gender and sexuality in music videos. This involved a lesson in militant dancing thanks to Pat Benatar’s ‘Love is a Battlefield’ video. A busy term was brought to a close with the RPG study day. Another cracking opportunity to hear the interesting work that goes on within the RPG community in the School of Music. Some great papers were given, especially interesting to hear all about Lucy’s (Rees) ethnomusicological adventures in Mongolia and dancing like a capitalist. The study day was brought to a close with mince pies and bucks fizz to raise money for St George’s Crypt and get us in the mood for the Christmas party that evening. Needless to say there was dancing and it may have had militant/capitalist overtones. 

Top gigs of Autumn 2009 

Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival: 

Barrett and Elision – ‘Opening of the Mouth’

le grain de la voix

New London Chamber Choir 

The Asylum, Birmingham: Sunn O))) – featuring Attila (in full tree attire)

http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa3870/is_200910/ai_n39231302/

Here are some excerpts from the article, as posted by ‘IanP’ on the Music and Society forum. The comments in square brackets come from the poster ‘IanP’. Click on this link to see a discussion of  this article on the Music and Society forum:

http://mas.nfshost.com/index.php/topic,183.msg3546/topicseen.html#msg3546

‘As in children’s school curricula, every time you introduce a worthy topic (Civics, Sex Education, Multiculturalism, the Environment, How to Ride a Bus), something suffers. Because time is finite. In my experience the first thing to go is, without exception, the technical side of things – the difficult subjects, in other words, the work that stretches your musical grasp, whether you mean to be a professional or amateur. Give people an option to sing a few songs or study gamelan or read up on the Societal Significance of Bebop and in no time out goes four-part fugue, except (if you’re lucky) as another option taught in detail (if you’re lucky) by a full staff-member.’

‘Indeed, it’s a miracle that people not in private schools are still learning violin or piano, now that it is so much more mind-broadening to learn to play MIDIs and so refreshing to move with the times away from that old boring hegemonic uniculturalism of playing Beethoven sonatas.’

‘In a counterpoint class, after a 15-week semester (with two or two-and-a-half classes a week), the students, starting off by barely knowing a fourth from a fifth, cold and do reach some sucess in a four part Kyrie or a fughetta, and by these means become equipped for later major or graduate courses. (How depressing to think one might now have to try to explain in what way classical counterpoint equips students!) Popular Freshmen electives confirm a general impression that, given a chance, young people do not avoid technically taxing subjects, and in any case are aware that an ‘A’ achieved in Calculus or Latin or (yes) Counterpoint can mean much more to a prospective employer than an ‘A’ in Gender Studies or (I am afraid) Jazz Studies.’

‘I could find little treatment, barely a mention, of harmony, counterpoint, orchestration, ear-training and keyboard harmony, though the reader is told about social harmony in Bolivia, about species counterpoint being admired by Schenker (no further details given), and about figured bass being a ‘notational shorthand in the Baroque”

[This one is spectacularly ignorant or at least disingenuous:]

‘a history of music qua music in our benighted West could usefully start with the notes as we have selected them from all possible pitches, and proceed by speculating on how the ninth-century hexachord led step by step to Götterdämmerung a thousand years later. As it did.’

‘The book’s approach is immediately clear when the Introduction speaks of ‘the teaching of humanities in the modern university’. Now that is a problem for me, as I do not understand what music has to do with ‘the humanities’, commonplace and thoughtlessly used though such phrases now are. . . These very terms reduce music, and the historic time-honoured position it has held in education, to mere passive and (literally) sedentary chit-chat’

‘. . . that indeed one hopes that ‘studying music will encourage you to make interdisciplinary connections’ (p.4), even allow you to use music to help you define ‘national, regional, social and cultural identities in the Balkans’ (p. 20) if you find that useful.’ [(the context of this statement makes clear that Williams certainly doesn't think so)]

‘I have long moved away from the idea that in itself music has anything much to do with literature or philosophy or classical studies or religion or art-history or any other discrete mode of experience, except that one can have fun as an undergraduate finding parallels between them and between their cultural contexts.’

[And so on and so forth.....

Happily, most academics who think like this have now passed retirement, and I don't know of any serious attempts to move the clock back in the right-wing manner Williams would favour. What is more concerning is that his views have some currency outside of an academic environment.]

Anyway, the festival kicked off with the SWR Sinfonieorchester Baden-Baden und Freiburg under the charismatic direction of Sylvian Cambreling. Of course in light of their CD recordings, together and apart, a highly enjoyable concert came as no surprise (their ECM release of Das Mädchen mit den Schwefelhölzern is a personal favourite, and I quite want to hear their Debussy and Messiaen offerings). Elliot Carter’s Three Illusions for Orchestra (2004) was, well, Carter: hints of serialism with a romantic sheen. Nevertheless, the interpretation was very clear and the playing sensitive, something that can be said of the entire concert. Frederic Belli’s trombone playing in Berio’s SOLO (2000) was solid, even if he seemed to be erring on the side of caution at times. Owing to the shape of the stage and the size of the orchestra required for other works in the concert the ensemble was laid out in a very wide configuration meaning the interplay over larger than normal distances between soloist, orchestral trombones and horns was extremely effective. The Francesconi works concluding each half were quite reliant on what I’ve come to think of as his large ensemble rhetoric. Luca, are you just demonstrating just how many sounds you can get out of an orchestra? Cobalt, Scarlet. Two Colours of Dawn (2000), the final work in the concert, opened with much promise; spatialised percussionists launched what could have been an extremely intriguing structure. Alas, stock music took over. Even so, I very much enjoyed watching the SWR basses performing snap pizzicati… by far the most enthusiastic I’ve ever heard! The same composer’s cello concerto, Rest (2003-04), was the better of his two pieces. Jean-Guihen Queyras (in his first of three outings in as many days) played the solo part brilliantly, and his integration with the ensemble was flawless. I was particularly intrigued by the orchestral set-up. The strings were re-arranged in a symmetrical radial pattern with the cellos at the front, cocooning soloist and conductor. Queyras was amplified and his sound broadcast through loudspeakers positioned beyond the perimeter of the cello amphitheatre in which he sat. The resulting playfulness of cello sounds and the uncertainty as to which was ‘inside’ which was extremely effective, much more so than the similar soloist-orchestra interplay in Pintscher’s en sourdine (2002) of which I was reminded. Perhaps predictably, my interest waned about two-thirds of the way through, but the piece was rescued by a surprising and quirky ending. Okay, concluding with sly (if very funny) ‘wha’s from the brass section is perhaps a bit gimmicky, but its effectiveness in this scenario is hard to deny. Perhaps a slight indebtedness to Varése? I will continue to keep my ear to the ground with Francesconi, but I maintain that his smaller chamber works are more effective on the whole.

And so, riding the tram back to the hotel, I felt that the tone for the weekend had been very much set. The expectation generated by Queyras’s concerto performance was met with his Stroppa, Saariaho and Kurtág (a very fine interpretation) on Sunday morning. His rendition of Bach’s fourth cello suite however was a little disappointing. He talked about the nature of his instrument from a performance and an interpretation point of view, making links between the pieces in the concert and methods of sound production. While his interpretations of twentieth century music were more than ample illustration, the Bach was made to seem completely incongruent. I’m not at all bothered whether somebody plays Bach in a ‘historically informed’ manner, with an air of Romanticism or in a so-called ‘sewing machine’ style – all can be extremely effective – but this performance hovered somewhere in between all three, felling slightly non-committal. The over-enthusiastic slamming of fingers against the fingerboard in the Prélude and Courante drove me up the wall. It seemed he was trying to emphasise how some of the idiosyncrasies of cello playing had informed the other pieces presented. But emphasis is only useful if it’s properly integrated, and it really wasn’t in this case. I felt as though I was in a cello lesson. I don’t mean to sound too negative about Queyras’s playing. Technical assuredness was not a problem at any point during the event, but his interpretation of Bach was not up to the same high standard of his other offerings. Moreover, it seemed to undermine the music itself to a certain degree. A fundamental error? I’m inclined to think so in this case.

Saturday lunchtime brought more Francisconi. Fresco (2007) was satisfyingly different from the pieces heard on Friday evening. Beer in hand, cathedral looming overhead, we sat and absorbed the work. (Incidentally, Lauren’s second beer choice is worthy of mention: it was bright green and full of sugar. A sort of scummy disintegration of its head gave something of a toxic appearance. Even passing wasps were more interested in… well, anything than this colourful sugary orgy! Food for thought.) Anyway, one of the five Fresco wind bands had stationed itself next to our table. After much dodgy tuning and equally suspect rehearsing, the ‘German band’ (so their parts informed me), ambled towards a central position in place de la Cathédrale, joining forces with its counterparts arriving from other side streets. The effect achieved from marching several bands towards each other might be a little bit Ivesian, but the resulting noise in this case was probably best described as ultimate impressionism. Before long, the bands dispersed playing music of their own choosing (anyone for Stop and Go?), snaking through the city centre before reconvening to reprise the Francesconi. I felt sorry for one young horn player who had to carry a (very colourful) music stand the entire time. Someone get him one of those clippy-on things.

Speaking of young people, the first of the festival’s young composer showcases took place on Saturday morning, in a TV studio of all places. Okay, they weren’t quite as young as the struggling but persistent horn player. In fact, they seemed to have spent most of the fledging performer’s life-span honing their craft. All three pieces were brilliantly executed and equally well put together. Chaigne’s Figurations (2009) and Durieux’s 3 pour 2 (in its revised 2009 version) seemed a little generic. Out of the two, the latter had the edge, if only because of its more refined orchestration. The central piece annoyed me, and not because of its quality. Fabrizio Rat Ferrero is a contemporary jazz pianist, and you can tell. Fine. Noisy Airs (2009) is supposed to sound like a chanson d’amour and a cha-cha-cha heard over a faulty or badly tuned radio. Again, fine. The composer’s solution was to disguise the pure instrumental sounds with extended techniques and to fragment some components of the stylistically faithful dance material. Occasionally outbursts of radio noise or interference from other channels were heard. If this had been played as part of an instillation, at an experimental jazz evening (with a bar – they’re the best kind), or some other kind of less contrived event I would have enjoyed the piece much more. Instead, the context made me focus on the extended techniques and how empty they’ve become. ‘If Lachenmann was on some form of hallucinogenic and had been listening to cabaret this might be what he wrote’ I thought. Obviously this is ridiculous; Ferrero was not using the instruments or techniques at all like Lachenmann or any of his acolytes (I’m not in a position to comment on Helmut’s drug intake). Still, it goes to show how important context can be. I need to hear this piece again probably. It’d be great to work to.

There was more engagement with the up-and-coming generation on Sunday afternoon at the Cité de la musique et de la dance, but this time performers were the focus. After an animated flute recital by Chryssi Dimitiou (including lots of fourth-octave notes on the C flute and some very loud top-end piccolo in a distinctly unsympathetic acoustic), Lauren and I parted. I opted for the Accroche Note gig. Unsurprisingly, the performance was solid, and Armand Angster wonderfully exuberant. The music was less good. Luc Ferrari’s bit of fun, Bonjour, comment ça va? (1972-79), eclipsed Sarah Nemtsov’s Moon at Noon (2009), which I can only describe as pointless. The ensemble writing was disjointed without any seeming cause, the structure unclear and the vocal writing obscured by superfluous noises. Not a fan.

In light of some deliberation and a certain amount of circumstance, both Lauren and I had opted out of our original choices for the final session of the showcase and ended up watching Ensemble Ictus ‘play’ Tom Johnson’s maximum efficiency (the title of the gig named after the first of four pieces). This performance was certainly one of the most memorable of the weekend, but it’s hard to say whether or not in an entirely positive way! Narrated commentary was either interrupted or explicated by music based entirely on patterns and repetition. It was all basically the same idea regurgitated. Not understanding great swathes of the French narration probably hampered my enjoyment slightly, but I still found the work humorous (which seemed to be the intention). Nevertheless, the myriad of French speakers around us would laugh heartily during the first few iterations of each nauseatingly repeated idea, but soon grew silent. Indeed, many left. Perhaps eliding humour and tedium was part of the point. I don’t know. Either way, I can’t see myself listening to this music on a regular basis, but it does possess a certain intrigue. The three performers were mainly good, remaining motionless during their rests and straight-faced throughout. Still, the flautist’s timing slips in Eggs and Basket (1987) were semi-fatal given the nature of the music.

The only other concerts that we managed to catch from the festival were both standout events. The first was a production of Battistelli’s Richard III (2004) by l’Opéra national du Rhin. Stunning. The staging was imaginative, impressive and iconic. An industrial, stepped set encased a central open area covered with blood-red sand. The cast were dressed in black and white, their faces painted with white makeup. The whole thing was certainly eerie, and the scenes involving death were quite graphic, sand flying everywhere. The set was brilliantly lit in every conceivable way, providing shape and variation to a stage that could otherwise have become overbearing. While the music relied a little on traditional devices and gestures, it was superbly integrated with the action and the production only served to strengthen this relationship. The cast were superb and suitably unnerving. A DVD release would certainly fly off the shelves. The lead’s single finger raised to the audience at the end of the first act elicited a sharp intake of breath from the auditorium, which, oddly enough, had a French accent; that amused me.

The final concert was given by the Philharmonisches Orchester Freiburg under Fabrice Bollon. One of the most striking things about the performance was its direction. Bollon gave very little indication of what was going on and I noticed several players getting quite lost at times (thankfully the leader was exceptional and decidedly on-the-ball). His beat was quite rigid too. But, hey, that’s not the important thing. The music filled the auditorium of the Cité de la musique et de la dance in much the same way the SWR guys had filled the university sports hall with refined sound two days earlier. First up was Romitelli’s Dead City Radio. Audiodrome (2003). The piece claims to be for large orchestra and electronics. I heard a couple of squeaks, pops and buzzes (some of which were definitely performed on orchestral instruments) and the cello section comprised six players. A misleading subtitle methinks. Overall, the piece was quite generic, but the sight and sound of percussionists blowing and speaking through plunger mutes will stick with me for a while. Johannes Maria Staud’s Im Lichte (2007) completed the first half. Of course, if programmers, biography writers and CD liner authors are to be believed, Staud is the Wunderkind of Austrian new music. I’m reserving judgement until the hype has died down, but I’m still watching him with interest. Im Lichte is a fine, well-crafted piece that benefits greatly from being seen as well as heard. Soloists and orchestra played with finesse resulting in a thoroughly enjoyable experience. The concert and the weekend concluded with Karl Koop Konzert (2008) by Bernard Cavanna. You have to wonder what possessed the composer to write an accordion concerto that includes parts for harpsichord and bagpipes. Okay, it was a bit different, but a little on the extravagant side; the carnival-esque section in particular was a touch unnerving. There were plenty of button-clicks and ‘must include’ sounds from the vast checklist of the past fifty years, but they were mostly superfluous. Speaking of superfluous, the poor harpsichord player could barely be heard half of the time, which made me very suspicious of the composer’s orchestration process. The orchestra itself was extensively re-seated (which seemed to be a theme of the weekend), but without any real reason. The ensemble writing was dense and a little sloppy. The only time having the wind instruments relegated to the sides of the stage was when brass players engaged each other in pseudo antiphony, at which point a wider stereo field added to the effectiveness. Apart from that, I got the feeling that an awful lot more effort than was really necessary went into writing and staging the work. Still, it was enjoyable enough, and I like to see natural horns getting used.

All in all, there was a god mix of the formidable, the bizarre and the aromatic. Despite attending nine concerts in two-and-a-half days, I felt remarkably relaxed and not at all like I was working (which may be why I’ve rambled so much). The festival itself filled me with joy and sadness simultaneously. We would never manage to fill concert venues for days on end in the UK; we struggle to do it with classical favourites never mind new music! Still, the demographic and general level of engagement at Musica gigs was re-assuring. At least somebody cares, even the kids!

I’ll definitely look into going to next year’s festival, something I recommend to anyone with a musical bone in their body. I’m already looking forward to seeing some great performances, to having the opportunity to try some more wine and some more food, to see more of the gorgeous city and to get all the way to the bottom of my Giraffe beer. I might even buy that silly stork hat.

A packed schedule reflected the diverse approaches to this broad field with papers representing: philosophical, historical, psychoanalytical and psychological approaches to studying music and emotion; empirical and technological progress in studying emotional response to music; various approaches to analysing musical features which may influence emotional response; and the practical applications of such study in everyday life and the context of music therapy. Of particular interest to my own research was Marcel Zentner’s overview of his recent studies assessing which emotions people claim to feel when experiencing music and which scholars should be investigating. John Sloboda’s closing address on the everyday use of music also reflected these concerns, setting down the challenge of researching music as it is actually experienced by the majority of people in daily life. Of course, I attended many more engaging and challenging presentations by scholars including Patrik Juslin, David Huron, Tuomas Eerola, Katie Overy, Kevin Clifton, David Megarrity, Alexandra Lamont, Jane Davidson and Robert Hatten, but I do not have the space here to recount the many things I learnt from such a wide range of speakers and subjects.

The presentations were complemented by two evening concerts. The first of which comprised an electroacoustic composition by Trevor Wishart and Eric Lyon’s laptop piece using the on-body measurement of movement and physiological signals for human-computer interaction of performer Ben Knapp and nine volunteers from the audience. In contrast the second concert entitled ‘Dialogues of the Soul’ was performed by the Dunedin Consort and Players, under the direction of John Butt and featured Baroque music including works by Schütz, Bach and Correlli in addition to a specially commissioned setting of text from Solomon’s ‘Song of Songs’ by Errollyn Wallern. The final evening was marked by a champagne reception and conference meal, celebrating the launch of the forthcoming Handbook of Music and Emotion edited by Patrik Juslin and John Sloboda, due for publication by Oxford University Press in December. The launch of this revised edition of Juslin and Sloboda’s seminal Music and Emotion: Theory and Research, with much new content in addition to updates to all of the existing chapters, reflects the vast progress made in the field in the eight years since its original publication.

The release of this book and indeed the conference itself reflect the exciting developments being made in the field of music and emotion and provided me with an interesting and enjoyable week with good company and beautiful surroundings, despite the rain. Either way, the conference provided a welcome distraction from preparing for my Upgrade and even the regular chimes of Durham cathedral bells entering my room throughout the night had become normal by the end of the week!

Every gig is a chance to put my work on Cuban Charanga into practice and my performance PhD involves (amongst other things) comparing my live performances with Charanga del Norte, with Havana-based Charanga Orquestas and my playing on my university studio recordings (‘Our Mam in Havana’ and the sequel ‘Look Back in Charanga’). On this live gig I found it hard to focus as I had to organise the whole 14-piece band, get everyone down to London, sort out everyone’s food and accommodation, run the  sound check (& deal with the odd intransigent sound engineer) etc – in addition the bass player’s bass broke on stage during the sound check – she ended up having to play with only 2 of her strings working so the band sounds a bit trebly on the camcorder recording  - the sound on stage was rough and boomy so I had to really focus on keeping the band together.  We were rehearsed and the band played well but I’ve yet to analyse my solos – think they were ok!

Cuba50 in all its glory at Victoria Park

by: Jane Cornwell, Evening StandardWelcome to Paradise read the banner over Hackney’s Paradise Gardens, ­ and for aficionados of Cuban music it was. The inaugural event in the Barbican’s Dance Nations series kicked off with cha-cha-cha lessons in the Spiegel Tent, then went outside to strut its stuff.

Three bands, old and new: Leeds-based Charanga del Norte were an ensemble of Latin-loving northerners that included a cellist from the Liverpool Philharmonic. Their blend of European classical music and African rhythms sparkled in the afternoon sunshine, buoyed by founder Sue Miller’s ubiquitous flute.

From Cuba’s east came the all-male Changüi Guantanamo, bird-calling and güiro-scraping in their matching shirts. Masters of rural changüi music, a languid yet upbeat style featuring bongos, tres guitar and the marimbula bass-box, they sang of the countryside and improvised a couple of solos.

Dancing is as much as part of changüi as anything else; the group’s very own dance duo slid, shimmied and twirled in harmony with the flamenco-flecked tres and bongosero Andrés Fisto Cobas’s sinewy percussion.

A sea of paper Cuba50 flags underlined that this was a mini-event, belonging to and yet separate from the free, family-friendly Paradise Gardens festival transforming the rest of Victoria Park.

Cuba50 tips its flat cap to the music nurtured by the island’s half-century-old revolution; the legendary Orquestra Aragon, however, are in their 70th year and still rolling like a well-oiled machine. Here was salsa, charanga, cha-cha-cha … And down in the crowd, all four members of Changüi Guantanamo dancing and shaking maracas.

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There are five videos on the website above, which were filmed at the World Science Festival’s ‘Notes & Neurons: In Search of  a Common Chorus’ event. Details below.

Is our response to music hard-wired or culturally determined? Is the reaction to rhythm and melody universal or influenced by environment? Join host John Schaefer, Jamshed Barucha, scientist Daniel Levitin, Professor Lawrence Parsons and musical artist Bobby McFerrin for live performances and cross cultural demonstrations to illustrate music’s note-worthy interaction with the brain and our emotions.