Certainly classical, hardly clubbing: Yellow Lounge London opening

Excited by: a very large gin and tonic

Listening to: Linda Hirst's recording of Berio's 'Sequenza III'

Cups of coffee achieved: 2, large but mellow...

Those who know me well know about my eclectic (some have described it more as ‘horrendous’) taste in music. From P. Diddy to Penderecki to Pergolesi, my ipod on shuffle is basically a prolonged session of musical schizophrenia. As a regular clubber in London and a lover of club culture, the idea of the new Yellow Lounge ‘classical music club’ night seemed perfect. This was supposed to encompass everything I believe in. I had grand visions of the Yellow Lounge freeing up classical music to the masses, dispelling elitism and of course helping good old Boulez with his most elegant suggestion of blowing up the opera houses. However, what I got was an incredible ‘classical’ concert, but a less than average ‘clubbing’ experience.

What the Yellow Lounge execells in doing is offering an informal platform for some of Universal’s most incredible classical artists. The sassy Danielle de Niese shined on stage last night, performing arias from her new (and highly recommended) CD ‘Beauty of the Baroque.’ Not only was she accompanied by a wonderfully fresh and dynamic consort, but she revelled in this informal setting quite simply beaming with enjoyment and enthusiasm for this repertoire. Bringing a sexiness to Baroque music is something I always think can be faux and sickly – it also troubles me seeing sopranos regularly stroking their cleavage on any slight mention of ‘dying’ and ‘torment.’ Danielle brings a cheekier and more playful side to the proceedings. Her wonderfully simple account of Dowland’s ‘Come again’ (you get the idea...) really showed that playing it cool often works wonders for sexual suggestion.  All of her songs were packed full of high-octane energy, never faltering even with the background noise of chattering and the clinking of beer bottles.

As soon as Danielle had finished her wonderful performance we were treated to a DJ set accompanied by some ethereal video art which was, in a word ‘nice.’ Unfortunately that’s as far as I can go; having a drink, a sit down and a chit chat over this worked perfectly, but it was, after all, ethereal furniture music, just there as a background. Yellow Lounge is a bar culture, with an informal concert platform. To describe this as ‘clubbing’ is really quite misleading. Clubbing culture is all about the experience -  the highs of having your body pulse to a bass beat; those indescribable moments of tension waiting for the beat to kick back in; manic dancing like there’s no tomorrow; the feeling of deafness as you leave the club and the world sounds like a different place; staying up till the early hours of the morning waiting for your favourite tune you’ve requested from the DJ... all these are part of the culture I love and that were all, sadly, missing. I obviously don’t expect people to be boogying on down to the latest Gabriel Prokofiev or requesting Ligeti remixes for their mates’ 21^st birthday, but I don’t get how this can work, without it being a ‘turn up, listen quietly and leave’ affair – in other words, like any other concert you would go to needless of the setting.  

I love the concept of Yellow Lounge and I was really hoping for something special. What I got was a little disappointing – maybe its because I enjoy clubbing so much.  Just before I left around midnight, a guy spilt half his vodka and orange on me. Rather than freaking out about my white shirt being ruined, at that moment I smirked at a glimmer of the post-club activities I am so used to, and sauntered back home via my local kebab van. Classical ‘clubbing’ it wasn’t. A fabulous performance out of a concert-hall setting, it was. For now, I’ll stick to my regular haunts for my clubbing needs. For the habitual night-owl expecting an alternative clubbing experience, Yellow Lounge is currently a bit too clean, a bit too coy and to the average Joe, a bit too ‘classical.’

Flashmob revolution

Excited by: The fact Jessica Duchen posted about our little 'disturbance'
Listening to: Some dull documentary on surgical instruments
Cups of coffee achieved: 1, and no less than nine glasses of water, yes, nine.

The weekend has been baking hot. I'm currently waiting for this so called 'storm' that is supposed to be cooling us all down. Looking out of my window, it certainly isn't heading SW7 way in the near future. Yesterday I was so pleased to head into the fabulous St Alfege's church in Greenwich to sing various pieces by our wonderful home-grown Tallis including his mass-ive (heh) 'Spem in Alium' for 40 voices.

Post concert we braved the heat of the tube and headed to the British Museum where we did this:

The sound quality doesn't do it justice at all. The Englightenment Gallery really was a beautiful place to do it, and as the conductor Katie Hawks said:

"It was amazing singing such an incredible piece in such a special place. Perhaps it might remind our silent museums that music is very much part of enlightenment... Lots of people were bowled over by the experience."


I have to admit - generally I hate flashmobs. There is nothing worse than a glee-esque choir popping up singing Michael Jackson in your face. The Swingles' tube 'Soul Bossa Nova' flashmob still remains one of my favorites however, and their acting is nothing short of bafta worthy. They prove flashmobs, when done well, are a good laugh. Recently I saw a mob (hardly any 'flash' involved) of University a cappella students doing a cringe-worthy (anyone who hates a cappella terms turn away now) 'mash up' (apologies) of various songs on the Southbank. Not only was it sung badly; they ended up singing in a circle. Dull. I've got plans for a Meredith Monk, Berio and Ligeti to be introduced to the ever-growing canon. May this be the start of the flashmob revolution to bring some decent, well sung music to the public...

My (eagerly awaited) Eurovision Top 5

Excited by: My tom yum soup bubbling downstairs

Listening to: Eurovision 2011

Cups of coffee achieved: 2 pots. Urgh.

I'll keep this short and sweet. Some stellar tracks this year, so here is my top 5:

5) ISRAEL - 'Ding Dong'. Yes, Dana international is back. This is no 'Diva', but it does the job. Also being the crazy Jewish tranny she is, she of course gets some fit shirtless men involved in the routine. Marvellous.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=frfGcWLB0ac

4) ESTONIA - 'Rockefella Street'. Don't ask me why. I like the way '1 2 celebrate... down the Rockefella Street' doesn't really rhyme.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tmgsd1rlybg

3) BELARUS - 'I love Belarus'. Unfortunate verse, but just wait till you get to the chorus. Also the video is really something. Love it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9T2d_woxdLQ

2) SWEDEN - 'Popular'. I especially like the 'X Files' style opening and the lyric 'stop don't say that it's impossible, cause i know it's possible'. Also the lead singer is BEAUTIFUL and has MOVES.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6f6Oyau1Uvc

1) HUNGARY - 'What about my dreams'. For me, Hungary hasn't pulled out a corker since 'Unsubstantial Blues', which should have done a lot better. This little europop number gets my vote. LOVES IT.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbKNKfePCrs

There's a lot of good in an old cock

Excited by: VFUK a cappellols next week with The Oxford Gargoyles - www.theoxfordgargoyles.co.uk available for births/deaths/marriages/parties/pissups etc


Listening to: Hera Bjork 'Je ne sais quoi', from Eurovision 2010 (Iceland)


Cups of coffee achieved: 4... hungover, post dinner party clearup


This one is for Lois 'Peaches Goyledof' Howarth as she said I should start a food blog. I write to you in pyjamas, snuggled up in the most ridiculous dressing gown known to man, well, potentially woman as its bright pink. My coffee cannot be strong enough and neither can my headache - my usual hangover relief cure of Eurovision songs and cola didn't work, strongly considering hair of the dog.

So, last night I did a dinner party for seven - my biggest dinner party number yet. I also managed everything single handedly, as my dear mum is still recovering from her broken arm she acquired during a drunken New Years Eve walk/stumble down Kentford high street, ha. Having never cooked for seven before, well, not in a 3-course 'lets get the special glasses out' situ, I was slightly worried, so did what any discerning cook does on such a grand occasion - cook 3 recipes i've never tried before, all whilst getting slowly pickled. My food along called for a bottle of red (for the coq au vin) and a significant measure brandy (for both the coq au vin and Quercyan apple cake) and by the time I had enjoyed cook's treats, another bottle of red was opened and the brandy bottle was chucked in the recycling. Oh well. Call it my tribute to Keith Floyd.

Both recipes actually came out rather well. This is after I had a huge paddy over the fact my weighing scales weren't weighing properly... every kitchen utensil suddenly was preceeded with an 'f', as my mum would say.  My coq au vin recipe was a mixture of many i've seen. My favourite being John Torode's and the Two Fat Ladies who suggest marinading the chicken overnight in the wine. I decided to joint a whole chicken which I won't do again - the leg meat was beautifully tender, but the breast was a bit tough. Next time i'll use just thighs... or maybe legs. I'm really not a breast man.

My triumph, even though I nearly flung it across the room when I tripped over coming to the table, was my Two Fat Ladies Quercyan Apple cake or as my dad called it 'the sleeping cat' or 'turd'.

Essentially it is made by pulling out pastry till it is as thin as cigarette paper, and then plastering it with brandy, sugar, apples and all manner of wonderful things, rolling it all up, and twisting it up into the 'cat', 'turd', or 'snail shell' as i prefer to call it. I agree with Clarissa Dickson Wright that it is a labour of love - the pastry prep took around an hour, but it was bloody worth it. Yum. It turns into a kind of strudel type dessert, with alternating layers of buttery pastry and sweet apples, all of course doused in far too much brandy. Recommended to anyone wanting a 'wow' dessert. Unfortunately an 'after' picture doesn't exist, as the cooked cake didn't exist for more than about half an hour. Bless it. I'll certainly be making it again, and you can follow the fabulous Clarissa here on youtube telling you exactly how - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qi2S_Y692KY  I wonder if working scales would create such a great cake. We'll see when the new ones come next week... Funny how the scales got one ingredient in particular completely wrong... the brandy.

Apex? What Apex? Who? Where?

Excited by: My first pay packet as a qualifullyfied PR freelancer
Listening to: Kapustin Concert Études (especially 'Pastoral')
Cups of Coffee achieved: 1... bucket


I came back from my regular charity shop rounds of  Bury St Edmunds yesterday feeling extremely proud of my two purchases: Messiaen's 'Catalogue D'Oiseaux' and a good edition of Dido & Aeneas, each for a bargainous £2.99. After parading my purchases to my disinterested parents I spoke to a neighbour (who was round gossiping about some house or another, as neighbours do) about the new venue in Bury St. Edmunds, The Apex. The conversation went something along these lines:

G: So I went and had a look at the new venue in Bury
Neighbour: What venue?
G: The Apex
Neighbour: The what?
G: The Apex, that new 500-seat venue...
Neighbour: what? where? how? (general look of confusion begins to appear)

Bury St Edmunds has been blessed with an incredible new music venue, and the weird thing, no-one outside Bury knows about it. You'd think that £18.6 million, 500-seat venue would invest in some publicity outside of the confines of a small market town, but no. What St Edmundsbury council (who run the venue) have truly failed to do is get the word out there. Working in the media has really made me see how important PR is - apart from a few 'how much is this going to cost the taxpayer' stories, nothing has been said.


I often get annoyed at councils and their inability to promote any kind of cultural activity. My local council, who have to deal with the cultural dive which is Newmarket, employ a full time culture officer. Due to the lack of concerts (i've known about 3 and i've lived here for 22 years) I emailed twice, called and wrote two separate letters offering free recitals, and didn't even get a response. Three cheers for local councils and their great work promoting culture to the youth of today.

So tell everyone about the Apex. I had a long chat to the receptionist yesterday and she told me that locals had been complaining about it. I mean, come on. What is there to complain about? West Suffolk didn't have any kind of performance venue, and if you're going to build one, it might as well be good! Trust Suffolk to complain. Bury St Edmunds truly is, and forgive me for using the phrase, 'up and coming'. And what better way to really push this town forward than build a really impressive venue. As much as councils annoy me for not getting the word out about cultural events and activities, I hope the Apex becomes the success it deserves to be. They've certainly been getting some great acts in, and the Bury Festival later on this year will bring some great names i'm sure.

The week I hung out at Meredith Monk's apartment

Excited by: Any central heating that may be slightly better than work's

Listening to: Berio 'Folk Songs' (Cathy Berberian version, natch)

Cups of coffee achieved: 3

Some of you might have got the slight hint that I went to New York recently to take part on Meredith Monk's Vocal Ensemble workshop. The workshops aim to give people the opportunity to, I suppose, explore all the facets of Monk's music and creative practice. What I didn't realise, however, is that we were going to be doing the workshop in Meredith's loft apartment - a stunningly huge space packed full of cherished photos, retro appliances, comfy sofas and the odd reminder of true success.True success? Well, as I was playing on Meredith's Steinway (she has good taste...) I noticed a picture of her with an older looking guy with wavy, silvery hair and that trademark grin stretching wide from one side of his face to another - John Cage. Now to me, anyone who even knew Cage, let alone knew him well, as Meredith did, is considered a bit of an avant-garde deity. What a wonderful photo to have right by your piano - I can imagine Meredith looking over, seeing that smile, and remembering such a great talent.

The workshop was divided into classes with members of the vocal ensemble past and present. Each took a different interest; whether it was dance, vocal technique, presentation, and created an in-depth workshop on aspects of performance. We started with a hardcore, well, moderately hardcore movement session with Ellen Fisher. Now this lady may be 30 or so years my senior, but by God did she work us hard. We got taught a dance routine to 'Just Be Good To Me' by the SOS Band (you weren't expecting that, we're you) and had to freestyle around the room, using every space, every contour, every inch of our body. My first thought? Sheer terror. I've probably done as much dance in my life as I have basket weaving and yet I felt so at ease, so comfortable, free to be as creative as I possibly could be. I was even told afterwards I was a 'natural'... ha, yes....Creativity was something further explored in a class on mime and tableaux with Pablo Vela, a warm-hearted associate of Meredith who saw we were ok for the entire weekend. We all felt safe knowing Pablo was overseeing everything on his stool each day. By the time it came to his class on sunday I think we all wanted to impress. He really was one of those people you never forget.

My favourite class? For me it has to be Katie Geissinger's repertoire class. I never thought I'd love all the other aspects to Monk's music as much as I do, and if you had told me that on saturday afternoon i'd be spending it as a sphinx overseeing an argument between the goddess of love and a centaur (Lanny Harrison's class, do feel free to ask...) then i'd have given you a subtle raised eyebrow. All this is integral to the overall performance of Meredith's beautifully constructed music - and it is still the music itself which can send shivers down my spine, relax me into a state of hypnosis, pull at my heartstrings and take me on frantic emotional journeys. For me, no other composer can quite do this in the same way as Monk. Katie's class on the group piece 'Other Worlds Revealed' from the opera 'Atlas' was, frankly, inbloodycredible. Known to friends as the 'shing-ways', we all stood in a line, eyes closed facing the person in front with our arms stretched on their shoulders. You copy the person behind you, feeling for a shoulder pinch and listening out for a 'shing' or a 'way', you then sing what you've heard and pinch the shoulders of the person in front to carry on the cycle. Yes, when I describe it it sounds a bit naff, but go and listen. What starts off as something similar to a group warmup soon turns into a mighty wall of sound, building up energy, a beautiful melodic line encased within an internal harmonic structure and all physically connected from one person to another. Simple and beautiful. Surely we can't ask for much more than that?

As many of you know I could bang on about Meredith's music for evermore - to me she has been the biggest inspiration on my composition and my development as a singer and don't get me started on her being underrated. Who knows, lets hope one day I can adorn my Steinway with a smiley photo of Meredith and I...

Swingle Singers @ Cadogan Hall

Excited by: The prospect of sister's 'Christmas Rehearsal' dinner on sunday 
Listening to: Cilla Black...
Cups of coffee achieved: 2 (plus one eggnog latté...mistake, bleurgh)

So, this be my new blog. Please feel free to make yourself at home and drop me comments, otherwise these things can become incredibly dull. You can also tweet (I still don't feel totally right saying that...) me @geocham if you want to condense your thoughts to a few precise words. And on that note...

The Swingle Singers are one of those established musical institutions that the music world seems to have forgotten. And why do I start this first blog on a rather Victor Meldrew-esque statement? Because last week I witnessed what has to be the best concert of my a cappella life... and yet nothing has appeared in the press. In fact, UK a cappella gets hardly any press coverage whatsoever. I suppose part of the problem lies in its placing in the media - where do you list a cappella concerts? They sit awkwardly on the fence between pop, classical and jazz, but surely that is so often their charm.

Personally a couple of numbers really did it for me - Sara Brimer's haunting solo in Nick Drake's 'Riverman' effortlessly ebbed and flowed its way around a simple but haunting waltz-like accompaniment. From my Gargoyle arrangements I'm always worried of over-arranging... but this proved quite the opposite. I don't know the arranger, but I know they're probably prime Swingle stock. In comparison I'm a bit dubious about the Swingles' and Richard Niles' new 'Romeo ♥ Juliet' project which is a reworking of Bernstein's 'West Side Story'. Do we need a reworking of West Side quite yet? Hm, I do wonder. I'm still actually quite enjoying the original. The Swingles performed the two complicated arrangements with vigour, but 'complicated' is where I think a problem is brewing. I'm all up for experiment, but I couldn't help listening thinking 'that's Bernstein', then hearing a flurry of crunchy extended chords thinking 'that certainly isn't Bernstein'. It may prove to be a blessing, who knows. At the moment it sounds jilted, and often complex for the sake of adding extra 9ths or 13ths to perfectly acceptable Bernsteinian chords.

I'm excited to see what the Swingles pull out of the bag for the next few instalments of  'Romeo ♥ Juliet'. What cannot be argued is that no other a cappella group can claim to have such vivacious variety as the Swingles, or so I believe, anyhow. From traditional folksong arrangements to Corea with some well programmed Beatles pit stops along the way, the group provided the audience with a good two hours of toe-tapping tunes. This is there the Swingles really excel - they give the audience exactly what they want: highs of Glee-esque a cappella in the tour de force numbers such as Alexander L'Estrange's arrangement of Quincy Jones' 'Soul Bossa Nova' and 'A Fifth of Beethoven', followed by a few blissfully serene (with, of course, wonderful mood lighting to accompany) homophonic ballads to balance it all out.

The Swingles show how a cappella should be done, and to add to it all they are lovely people as everyone found out post-gig... We should be proud of our Swingles - I may have not seen any reviews, but for a performance like I saw, i'd be happy to give them five gleaming stars any day.