ARTS

Mozart among murderers

Rafael 'fades on playing in a string quartet at a young offenders' prison Isometimes find myself on a concert platform gazing into a chattering hall, won- dering how it is that our public comes to be there, and whether after 230 years the string quartet still has any relevance to people's lives.

During the five years that I have been a member of the Schidlof Quartet, I have never before knowingly played and pre- sented music in front of 200 murderers, rapists and drug offenders. While I had an extremely good idea of how this audience had come to be here, I was less certain of how they would react to the music we were going to play. Among the quartet's engagements on our debut US tour were concerts in Wash- ington's Corcoran Gallery, NY State, Alabama, Florida, as well as a five-day resi- dency in LA to do some education out- reach work, an important part of our work as a string quartet. The LA experience was perhaps one of the most revelatory series of projects in which I have participated. We had been asked by the co-ordinator of the Da Camera music society to go into a young offenders' prison, some way from downtown LA. With the help of the entire quartet's navigationally challenged abilities (besides which Californian freeways are notoriously difficult to negotiate), we arrived at the prison carpark, located between the railway track and the institu- tion itself. The first thing that struck me about the carpark was the sheer volume of wrecked Seventies cars in the long-term section. Obviously this was a `drive-thru' prison. The second was a couple making out on the bonnet of a rusty Buick.

We surrendered our passports on enter- ing the building, and, having been met at the first of three security doors, we pro- ceeded to a large modern chapel, built like an aircraft hangar laid out with 200 empty plastic chairs. A distant drone of 'boot camp chanting' broke the eerie silence, the question-and-answer sort you hear on US military films. In marched our audience, now in total silence, and sat to attention. Young men with shaven heads and miser- able expressions and numbers, not names. On the command of 'relax' our presenta- tion commenced.

We started off with some Mozart — the first movement of the Hunt Quartet. It is cheerful, positive and conversationally live- ly. They clapped politely at the end, where- upon I started a discussion: 'What's going on in this music — what's the character etc.?' 'Why, it's sad music,' came the reply. My first reaction was surprise; we had never had this response before to this Piece. Were we doing something wrong or Were the dismal circumstances surrounding us affecting their concept of the music? We then played some Beethoven, the opening of the second Rasumovsky quar- tet. It begins with two loud, angry chords, like someone banging his fist on a table. Then follows a contemplative silence, and a scurrying musical phrase. The response an outbreak of nervous laughter, and remarks like 'a head being cut off-and then a feeling of remorse'. This music was rele- vant to the prisoners. Some excerpts from Shostakovich's 7th Quartet were next on the menu. The slow movement starts with an eerie rolling wave- like figure on the second violin, the first violin joins in shortly afterwards with a deathly-still but haunting melody. Later on in the movement there is a repeating rhythm, which binds together the ghostly sounds emanating from the cello and viola. `It's like the voice of authority always there,' said one of the inmates. This move- ment runs on into a brutal fugue, starting on the viola.

`It's like someone is running away from a killer, running and running,' said another breathlessly. `Does anyone recognise the tune in the last movement?' I asked. It had taken us as an ensemble eight months for the penny to drop on this one. `Yeah,' piped up someone near the back. `It's like the tune you played right at the beginning.'

If she can walk in them, she's a witch. If she breaks her neck, she's innocent.' I could hardly hide my amazement. Every so often in an education project someone hits you with an insight like a bolt from the blue. The man who got this one went on correctly to identify all our rhythm quiz questions, where we play just the rhythm of a well-known TV theme tune, and they have to name the tune.

As a performer, I am acutely aware of the levels of involvement of an audience. I cannot remember such a feeling of rapt stillness, as was the case during the Shostakovich. They left, the way they had arrived, in military formation. I felt a real sense of achievement, as well as elation.

On the last day, we visited a school for the severely mentally handicapped. I have found that when words are not easily understood physical movement can help children to understand the music better.

We illustrated a Mendelssohn scherzo by dancing around like overgrown fairies, and the last movement of the Beethoven sec- ond Rasumovsky by galloping while we were playing. They seemed to like that. We also demonstrated the rapid-fire conversa- tion in the last movement, by hiding behind our stands and popping up like jacks-in- the-box. The next group was more advanced, so I thought I'd try them out on some conducting. 'Who's good at maths?'

A forest of hands went up. 'Okay,' I said, what's seven plus seven?'

`Eight!' they chorused in unison.

`No it's not!' shouted one puzzled-look- ing kid, 'it's .14.'

He came out to conduct. I showed him how to draw a triangle in the air, handed him a baton and we played a minuet from a Mozart Quartet. He started counting aloud intently while he was drawing triangles, and by the time we had finished the excerpt, he had reached 42.

I explained that, once you reach the third beat in a bar, you go back to the beginning again. He had however absorbed the con- cept that the faster he beat the faster we played and was beginning to experiment creatively, with a grin on his face of newly discovered power. Later, the children guessed correctly their fair share of TV theme tunes. As we packed up our instru- ments, we were surrounded by a sea of eager-faced children wanting to touch the instruments, shake our hands, and thank

US.

I often wonder what the relevance of the string quartet is at the start of the new mil- lennium. It was a form invented by Haydn in the mid-18th century and which devel- oped through intense cross-fertilisation until Beethoven died in 1827, whereupon it suffered a lull of activity. It had traditional- ly been the preserve of the rich, intellectu- ally curious amateurs who sponsored and nurtured it. Today, people often come to appreciate it later on in life.

What surprised me most about this pro- ject was to see how Beethoven's isolated world of anger, uncertainty and idealism could captivate people who were not famil- iar with his musical language nearly 200 years after he was composing. Shostakovich's anxiety and terror could shock and stun the most violent members of society. This is surely proof enough that the string quartet will continue to speak across cultures, backgrounds and age groups for generations to come.