Guest blog by Bratsche
Each year when I play the Britt Festival, our normal cast and crew arrive in southern Oregon at the very end of July….conductor, orchestra, stage hands, festival staff, the weather. Since we’re playing more or less outside*, the weather is as much a member of the festival as any person. It can be 108ºF for a week straight, or mid-60ºs for a few days, or anything in between. Sunny days with highs in the mid 90°s is the most common weather. In that area of the country, it doesn’t tend to rain much in August; but, we always have to be prepared for the possibility of rain.
The weather obviously affects me directly in terms of how hot or cold I am while playing (my favorite days are in the mid-80ºs). However, it also has a huge impact on my viola (as well as all the other instruments). Both the viola and the bow react to changes in temperature and humidity. Southern Oregon is hotter and drier than home, so my viola always takes a few days to get acclimated to its new surroundings. That adjustment mostly takes the form of the tuning pegs not wanting to stay in position until they settle in. The scroll (curly part at the end of the instrument which holds the pegs) and the pegs are made of different woods, so they don’t adjust at the same rate. Once my viola has settled in, it stays fairly stable for the remainder of the three weeks.
The bow is a different matter, however. Have you ever seen a weather stick? Or maybe a plant that reacts dramatically to not having enough water? Well, imagine playing an instrument with one of those! My bow’s tension (how much the white horse hair part pulls against the brown stick part) changes constantly as the weather changes, even during the course of one rehearsal or concert. The tension affects how easily I can get the different kinds of sounds I need to for different parts of the music. One example would be something called spiccato, which is the bow skipping or bouncing on the string. If you imagine yourself skipping on different kinds of footing (pavement, grass, mud, a foot of water), you’ll get a small idea of how surface tension can affect the bow skipping. The hotter and drier it is, the stiffer the bow gets, which gives it less spring (like riding in a vehicle without shocks). The wetter and colder it is, the more sluggish the bow gets (not enough tension). It is something I can easily adjust while playing (with a screw at the end of the stick); but if the weather is too extreme, I occasionally run out of adjustment room.
We’ve certainly had our share of interesting weather over the years I’ve played. This past year, however, we had the most amazing night of weather anyone remembers (and some people have been playing the festival for well over 20 years). It had been really hot for the first few days of rehearsal**. The day of our second concert was still hot, but we could tell the weather was changing during the day. By evening, the weather was still warm, but the wind was blowing pretty hard and dark, dark clouds were assembling to attend the concert. Thunder and lightning arrived during our first piece. Within a few moments of starting our second piece (a Mozart piano concerto), the rain really started pelting down. The festival staff began handing out clear garbage bags to the concertgoers, since a lot of people hadn’t brought rain-gear. My main thought at that point was that it was too bad people wouldn’t be able to hear our piano soloist very well, since garbage bags being opened and then being hammered by rain is very noisy. Then it REALLY started raining (and thundering and lightning). At which point, we had to stop the concert so that the piano (which was between the conductor and the edge of the stage) could be moved before it got too much (any!) rain in it, as well as letting we musicians who were on the outside edge (myself included) get away from the rain that was starting to pelt hard enough to come in under the over-hang.
We have never before stopped a concert for a storm. The thunder and lightning were strong enough that they turned off all the power (microphones, speakers, lights, etc.) for safety. The audience was also invited to squeeze in on stage with the orchestra (as many as could fit around us) to get undercover. Quite a few people left, of course, but a fairly large number stayed. The ones who had brought rain-gear were still on the hill, as well as some who figured they were so soaked they wouldn’t get any wetter by staying put. I put my viola in its case (backstage) while we waited to find out what would happen next. Our conductor and the piano soloist (Anton Nel) had been chatting some during the people shuffling. Anton then sat down and played 3 or 4 solo piano pieces (amidst the rain, lightning, and thunder) while we waited to see if the storm would abate some. After a while the storm lessened enough that it was decided we would play the piano concerto after all. More people shuffling to give us musicians enough room to sit and play; however, as many people as could fit around us were able to stay on-stage while we played the concerto. So, some of the concertgoers had the closest seats they’re ever liable to have.*** We were ringed by audience, and there were still a fair number of audience members on the hill. When we finished the concerto, our conductor announced that we would play the last two movements of the Beethoven symphony that was originally scheduled to end the concert. A few more audience members had to leave the stage so we could fit a few more orchestra players on-stage; but once again, some audience members got to stay on-stage.
It was an amazing night from an orchestra member’s standpoint, and I’m sure that was true for the people in the audience also. It was a lot of fun to be part of such a memorable evening. That was an evening of music making that happened because everyone involved (orchestra, soloist, festival staff, audience) values music a lot. I wouldn’t want every concert to have such an amazing story to go with it, but it was one of those vivid events that is wonderful at the time and makes a great memory too. Live music has an ambience that can’t be duplicated on a recording….in this case it might be just as well!
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* We play in a 3-sided shell (with a roof).
** 90º+ on-stage during rehearsals. For reference, many orchestra contracts stipulate acceptable stage temperatures (for indoor facilities). I don’t remember what it is locally, but I know that the upper end of acceptable on-stage temperature is no more than mid 80ºs. On-stage temperature matters for more than just musician comfort (which is important, too, mind you!). All of the instruments are affected by temperature and humidity; and to make it even more interesting, each type of instrument responds differently, too. So, it can make it much harder to play in tune (or even just to make some notes happen on certain instruments) if the temperature is extreme and/or if it fluctuates too much. We rehearse in the morning and the evening to avoid the worst heat of the day and to play when the stage is not in direct sunlight.
*** One young couple in drenched sunny-day clothes were sitting almost in the curve of the grand piano. When we warned them it was liable to be rather loud, they said they wouldn’t miss it for anything. They’d hired a baby-sitter for an evening out and intended to enjoy it to the hilt, which turned out to include sitting close enough to feel the piano’s sound.
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