Last night - after a brief but jolly dinner with the Laughing Buddha - the Principal, the Recluse and I joined the Mother Superior for the Boy Wonder's first concert at Hogwarts : a performance in the School Chapel (which would make a very fine parish church for any village, or even a decent-sized town) of, appropriately enough, given the date, Handel's Royal Fireworks Music.
Everything about the evening was perfect.
First, just as the orchestra finished tuning up, and the audience awaited the arrival of the Hogwarts' Head of Music on the conductor's podium, a volley of fireworks could be seen through the stain-glassed windows.
Next, the Head of Music duly appeared and gave a brief introduction, explaining that Handel had called for the largest orchestra possible to perform the work. He certainly would not have been disappointed, as Hogwarts had put together a vast ensemble, bringing together members of the first orchestra, second orchestra and various string groups to form a force of 126 players, including, as the H of M put it, Heaven knows how many string players, 20 trumpets, 2 timpanists and 14 oboes. This last figure, in particular, bowled me over - for my sins, I played the oboe as a schoolboy, and in four and a half years at secondary school I had a grand total of three fellow oboists - to put together no fewer than 14 in a single school orchestra seems to me nothing short of miraculous.
When the performance finally began, the sound - both in terms of volume and of quality - was truly impressive. Certainly, there were moments, especially when the entire batallion of oboes were exposed in technically challenging, unaccompanied passages, where one was very aware of listening to a school orchestra. But in the grandest, most ceremonial movements the richness and depth of the sound produced (aided no doubt by the chapel's acoustics, ideally suited to baroque music) were exceptional - above all, when one considers that the first time the entire ensemble had practiced together was the day before the concert.
The PO must also confess to a twinge of disproportionate pride every time he caught a glimpse of the BW's mop of sandy hair bobbing up and down as he scrubbed away on his viola amongst the sea of (mostly older) girls' and boys' heads that surrounded him. A sense of pride that was in no way lessened by the realisation that of 126 pupils in the orchestra, 125 were wearing, as requested, pristine white shirts, while the Boy Wonder played, casually unconcerned by his sartorial faux pas, in the blue and white striped shirt he had been wearing all day.
After the performance the PO had the opportunity to shake hands with the H of M, to tell him how much the BW seemed to be enjoying his music at Hogwarts, and to slip in a sly reference to the fact that I had travelled 600 miles for a concert that had lasted less than twenty minutes. I also met young Mr Hoskins, who had been puffing on one of the 20 trumpets, and was still trembling for his life since having posted a comment on this site, and his charming parents, with whom we may try to meet up in Verbier next year.
Then it was back to Mother Superior's for a nice cup of tea. During the journey there, we learnt, amongst other nuggets of golden information, that the BW's favourite subjects remain Latin and Maths., and that he will soon be learning to play lacrosse. Only without horses (sic). Our amusement at this last revelation did not seem to amuse the BW at all.
As a perfect postscript to a wonderful evening, back at the MS's we were treated to an impromptu piano recital by the Boy Wonder, during which I realised that I am now only the third best pianist in the family. Only My Favourite Aunt, a piano teacher and (regrettably occasional) concert pianist can now rightfully claim to have anything over the BW. His brief performance consisted of three pieces :
Clementi, Sonatina Op. 36, no. 6
Martinu, Columbine Dances from Puppets, vol. 1
Schumann, Curiose Geschichte from Kinderszenen
Without even warming up, the BW played all three, but in particular the Clementi, with a musicality, dexterity and technical confidence beyond his eleven years, and brought the very discreetest of tears to the Paternal Optimist's eyes.
It is often hard to accept that the periods between my visits to the BW are inevitably destined to grow longer, as they have done noticeably over the last couple of years. He is growing up and leading a sometimes hectically full and rewarding life. But seeing him last night in the two environments that will shape his life over the next few years - at Hogwarts and at home with the Mother Superior, the Laughing Buddha, his as-yet-monikerless sister and little Schmoo - fills me with a total confidence that he is in the right place, benefitting from all of the opportunities that I could possibly wish to offer my child. And yes, it fills me with more than a little paternal optimism too.
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