Jet-lagged from their 12,000-mile flight from Britain, the small boys in their crimson jackets and scholars’ cloaks stood on the stage and piped "Sigh no more, ladies". But the ladies in the huge Brisbane City Hall did sigh for the weary St. John’s College, Cambs. choir that had come to entertain them and - it was revealed - had no slept very well the night before.
‘They’re a bit weary,’ admitted Director of Music, Mr. Christopher Robinson. He’d seen a stifled yawn here and there as he stood conducting the first concert of the 16-day tour.
The 16 small boys, whose ages ranged from nine to 13, and 14 men, gave a two-hour recital of Bach, Mozart and Brahms that thrilled the large audience. Between songs, the 70-year-old organ thundered Bach’s "Toccata and Fugue" around the walls of the auditorium giving the tiniest the chance to close their eyes backstage.
Most of the boys had never seen Australia. They all wanted to see a koala, go to the beach and buy an Australian souvenir to take home, "like a Crocodile Dundee hat", explained Martin Brown, 12.
Musical Director Christopher Robinson, his back to the audience conducting, was using hands, eyebrows and smiles to encourage them in difficult pieces like "Gaude, gaude, gaude Maria virgo" ("Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, Mary virgin"). ‘They usually know from my face what I’m thinking,’ said the man with the mobile expression that seems to be hiding a secret joke. Back home, Christopher Robinson spends two hours a day with the boys at rehearsals and church services at the college that was founded in the 12th century. In Australia his wife and the Matron are in charge of suits being pressed, jackets remaining spotless, and any homesickness that needs to be comforted.
Letters home? ‘Oh I think they’ll probably phone or fax,’ he said. It was of course no longer the 12th century. ‘The boys are looked after splendidly by their billets. They have a schedule that sets down where they must be at a given moment and what they should be wearing. They are well disciplined.’
Christopher Robinson is a renowned organist and played for 17 years at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle. He does not like electronic organs. ‘We had one for a year while they were putting in the new organ at St. George’s and they make a fairly nasty noise.’ A new organ these days can cost $1 million.
If there was a curious note at Brisbane City Hall it did not come from the stage, but from the $6 printed programme. It said of the three Coronation anthems (which Christopher Robinson hinted were not his choice): "What has been described as ‘British Shintoism’, whereby the person of the sovereign is accorded a semi-divine status, is expressed nowhere more forcefully than in the religious ceremonies which make the royal rites of passage - or so it would seem from the footage of Elizabeth II’s dignified installation and the various subsequent royal weddings with which we are all so familiar. Actually, the smooth-running stage management of such events is largely a television age phenomenon. There are numerous contemporary accounts of coronations where prize-fighters had to be hired to keep warring aristocrats from sparring during the service; royal funerals where the horses drawing the hearses bolted; ceremonies where the clergymen lost their places in the prayers. Nonetheless, most such occasions called forth great music, which somehow embodies the ideal nature of such an event."
Christopher Robinson made it clear later, that the reference to British "Shintoism" and the smooth-running eminating from television producers’ skills had upset him. He said to me after he had changed: ‘What a lot of rubbish!’
(The programme was produced for the choir’s sponsors, Musica Viva Australia, which is supported by the government and by corporate and private donations. Mr. David Barmby, Musica Viva’s Head of Artistic Planning, said he had nothing to say about the programme notes, but would be "speaking to Mr. Robinson".)
