RAB

Sorry Harry Potter fans, but I am not talking about Regulus Arcturus Black.

I am talking about another invention of English origin: The Royal AlBert hall.

Okay I am aware that the acronym doesn't quite work, but you're going to have to deal with it for two reasons: 1) I really like the idea of it, and 2) it's 4:10 in the morning...so I'm just gonna stick to it out of stubbornness and exhaustion.

I am up at this hour for one reason: the San Francisco Giants (aka the most wickedly cool baseball team in the history of sports) have just won Game 2 of the 2012 World Series. I also stayed up all night for Game 7 of the NLCS and Game l.

The one thing that remains from my childhood and will never leave me is my love of baseball. I have changed a lot since I was younger, when I would wait for my Dad to come home so we could play catch, or when my cousin and I would hit grounders to each other everyday during summer. It brings about a lot of memories, both good and bad...

Like that time I hit a home run because the right fielder, who had mustered up all of her strength for the ensuing throw, launched the ball straight up in the air and hit a tree instead. Or that time when I was playing 3rd base and my coach/Dad told me to play closer to the base, so I walked over to the base and stood on top of it. Then he sent me into the outfield for being a smartass, where I promptly flopped onto the ground and started sobbing into my glove. Road trips in an old Chevy SUV, listening to Rush Limbaugh against my will. Making up dance moves to the Oompah Loompah songs with Keely.

Good times.

The smell of sweat, dirt, and leather that was my glove. Knowing that the dust and gravel in my cleats after sliding into 2nd base was going to be there for the rest of the game, and there was nothing in the world that would get all of it out. The snapping sound the ball makes after hitting the catchers glove moments after it  had left my fingertips.

Baseball reminds me that I am from America. It's sometimes easy to forget that I am in a different country, because there are a lot of things that the UK and US share. But baseball is not one of them. It is a lost concept on these people, something they have no interest in learning either. This means that during this critical time in baseball season, I have no one to share my joy (or sorrow) with.

And that, my friends, is very very very lame.

But as usual, I am getting sidetracked.

There is no World Series in the UK ... but there IS the National Brass Band Championships of Great Britain.  [Now how'd you like THAT segue?!    nb: I spelled 'segue' right on the first try. I think I get an A+ for this blog post.]

20 Championship bands, 3 judges, 1 piece of music, and 1 poor, fascinated American girl.

I hitched a ride to London at 5am with Richard, a trombone player in Midsomer Norton, and we drove for about 2 hours until we hit the outskirts of London. We dropped his car off at his nephew's house, and after a cuppa, walked to the Underground station. A bunch of the Tube lines were down for maintenance, which meant that we had to find the closest station and then wander our way to the hall.

I'd never been to the Albert Hall. I had only seen it in picture and video, mostly in The Concert for George (if you haven't seen that, stop what you're doing right now and go watch it..an incredible tribute to George Harrison...amazing performances by tons of amazing musicians...)

I'll admit that although I was excited to see the best bands in Britain, the thought of hearing the same piece over and over and over again wasn't the exactly most appealing thing, so really I was most excited to see and hear the acoustics in the hall. I was not disappointed.

the view from my seat

check out the pipes on THAT organ!

the ceiling is suuuuuper cooooool

I was pretty. freakin. stoked. Everything is just...I mean...awesome, beautiful, great, A+.  You just have to go there - pictures give you a good idea of what it's like, but like everything in life, you gotta experience yourself to give yourself your own impression.

I listened to 17 bands that day, only leaving the hall during the break, and then again to get something to eat - which I will now publicly thank Jo for - since I didn't have any cash, she paid for my 3.5 sandwich. I hope she knows that I'm going to pay her back in all things peanut butter...

This pub is close to the hall and is where you always go for a drink...I was told that sometimes you don't actually make it back to the contest after going here. Richard introduced me to quite a few people too, which will probably be useful...

The test piece for the day was an arrangement of Ravel's Daphnis et Chloé.

I like some Ravel and I like some of Daphnis et Chloé,.. but after that day, I know it's going to be awhile before I get the hankering to listen to that piece again. A long, long while.

I decided to not look at the order of bands. In not knowing the order of bands, it forced me to stay in the hall all day and listen to every single band. I would not be influenced by my preconceived notions that Black Dyke, Cory, Brighouse & Rastrick, and Foden's were the best bands and the others were nothing; I wanted to decide on my own who I thought were the best bands...so in that sense, you could say that I was in my own metaphorical judges box.

It also meant that I was inside the dark, warm hall all day...and yeah, some of the bands got a little less attention then others on account of my occasional bouts of daydreaming and my general level of sleepiness. There were 3 bands that I did know and paid close attention to - Tonwynlais Temperance (whom tuba teacher Steve was conducting and his son was playing tuba for), Tredegar (who his other son was playing trombone for), and the Black Dyke Mills Band (they're so legendary that even an American like myself knows who they are and what their uniforms look like!)

It ended up that my favorite groups were the famous bands anyway - Black Dyke, Fairey, and actually Steve's group was really fantastic as well. My favorite was Cory.

It's amazing the differences you can hear in performances; what is written on the page is the only constant between groups. It's what's not written on the page that makes the music what it is. It's the bits in between the notes, the interpretation, that really makes it music.

After all the bands had finished and the judges left their boxest to deliberate over a winner, there was a performance by the Grimethorpe Colliery Reunion band, to which Steve is a member. I would say that they were really good, but that would be an understatement. They were fantastic. They played "Bugler's Holiday" with 3 cornet players, and UGH it was just SO GOOD.   AND Steve played a solo.........and.........like........woah dude. Phenomenal. Just....wow. I can't even begin.

Just like Cheltenham, we had to wait around through the speeches that no one is ever interested in hearing in order to get the results. Then they announced the top six bands...

6th place: Co-op

5th: Fairey

4th: Tonwynlais (YEAH Steve!!)

3rd: Cory


((I must now tell you that Brighouse & Rastrick were going for a hat trick - 3 championships in a row...but, NO DICE!))


2nd: Brighouse & Rastrick


aaaaand at this point, I think most were expecting Black Dyke to win. Y'know, 'cos they're the Black Dyke Mills Band, that's why.


1st place (&lots of $$) : Foden's!!!


Black Dyke placed 9th!!! Nowhere close! Even Flowers - the West of England champs - beat them out (though apparently they hire lots of players to play with them - cheap! - just like pro sports!!). (Also, it should be noted that I would have pictures of this but it seems as though my camera has eaten them or something.)


I expect that there was a lot of grumbling by some people. That's why you go to the pub, to grumble together. [Actually, you go to the pub no matter what happens.]


At this point, I was going to walk to Paddington Station to get a ride back on the train. It had begun to rain, and Jo and I actually tried to find out if there were any band buses headed back to Bristol...and, like everything else in my life thus far, I ran across the right person at the right time.

Of course, the first thing I see at the Albert Hall is Paul McCartney. This was located in the hallway, just outside of my seat location...it finds me, I swear!

Peter, who I had only met the night before at a City of Bristol brass band rehearsal, happened to walk by me. I stopped him and asked if he had an extra seat. His party - made up of other CoBbb members - had a total of 6 people. The car has 7 seats. So I rode back to Bristol with them.

I don't know how things always seem to work out like this for me...is it luck? Do I have a lot of bonus karma points? Was I really awesome in a previous life?!
Perhaps. But mostly, I think that the people here have a kindness ingrained in them. It's something you rarely get in the States. People here will go out of their way to help you - and to them, it's not really going out of the way - it's just what they do. People treat you like family, and I sure am grateful for it.