Turning Silence into Song
May. 27th, 2022 11:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
We spent last Sunday evening livestreaming a celebration of the songs of Leon Rosselson, hosted by the estimable People's Music Network. We didn't log in to the Zoomed concert, because - well, was it Noel Coward who said television was for being on, not for watching? That's how I feel about Zoom. But whether there really is something live about a live stream, or whether it's just an illusion, it felt as much like 'being there' as can be achieved from the comfort of my own sofa. Only now it is saved for posterity, and we can all be there again, any time we choose:
Many of the participants started by outlining how they had first met Leon Rosselson, the man or the music. Often this involved Roy Bailey and / or Frankie Armstrong. Which is interesting, because I remember a Roy Bailey and Frankie Armstrong concert, but I'm pretty sure the third participant (the person we were there to hear) was Martin Carthy. My earliest memory of Leon Rosselson, though, is of his work with Robin Hall and Jimmie MacGregor in the early 1960s. Above all, this instrumental was my introduction to the song North Country Maid:
Later I came by a copy of his 1968 collaboration with Adrian Mitchell, A Laugh, a Song and a Hand Grenade. Had I come across him as a songwriter before that, from the singing of other people? Possibly, but I don't remember. Whereas some of the tracks on this record have sunk deeply into my mind (some of the songs, and some of the poems, too). My knowledge of the work of Leon Rosselson is not as wide or as deep as what was on show in the concert, but it is very prolonged, and what I do know, I know very well.
The relevance of all this is that the high points of the concert for me were precisely what you'd expect. I enjoyed - well, I enjoyed the whole thing, but an honourable mention for a couple of comedy numbers: Elijah Wald's virtuoso rendition of We Sell Everything and Charlie King's Whoever Invented the Fish Finger. Martin Carthy, who I think had intended to sing History Lesson, had to cancel (a combination of scheduling class and technical problems, so he was neither there in person nor represented by a video). I thought Leon Rosselson's own My Father's Jewish World an interesting story, and The World Turned Upside Down the perfect choice to close with (and Billy Bragg - given that the medium does not permit ense,ble singing - the perfect person to sing it, though I wished his sound was better; don't know what went wrong there...).
But the highlight performers for me were the usual suspects. Martin Simpson - a recorded video, alas - sang Palaces of Gold, as he has every time I've seen him since the Grenfell Tower fire. Nancy Kerr sang Harry's Gone Fishing, which I begin to think of as an old friend (it has certainly taken residence in my ears) though I only know it from her lockdown project. Hooray, then, yet again, for Robb Johnson who demonstrated that I can still like something I haven't heard beforee, with On Her Silver Jubilee. You might think that would be a little out of date by now, but since it opens with Rosselson's memories of the Coronation, and the gist of the song is What, is she still here?, it is even more to the point than it was when written: you don't have to take my word for this.
Many of the participants started by outlining how they had first met Leon Rosselson, the man or the music. Often this involved Roy Bailey and / or Frankie Armstrong. Which is interesting, because I remember a Roy Bailey and Frankie Armstrong concert, but I'm pretty sure the third participant (the person we were there to hear) was Martin Carthy. My earliest memory of Leon Rosselson, though, is of his work with Robin Hall and Jimmie MacGregor in the early 1960s. Above all, this instrumental was my introduction to the song North Country Maid:
Later I came by a copy of his 1968 collaboration with Adrian Mitchell, A Laugh, a Song and a Hand Grenade. Had I come across him as a songwriter before that, from the singing of other people? Possibly, but I don't remember. Whereas some of the tracks on this record have sunk deeply into my mind (some of the songs, and some of the poems, too). My knowledge of the work of Leon Rosselson is not as wide or as deep as what was on show in the concert, but it is very prolonged, and what I do know, I know very well.
The relevance of all this is that the high points of the concert for me were precisely what you'd expect. I enjoyed - well, I enjoyed the whole thing, but an honourable mention for a couple of comedy numbers: Elijah Wald's virtuoso rendition of We Sell Everything and Charlie King's Whoever Invented the Fish Finger. Martin Carthy, who I think had intended to sing History Lesson, had to cancel (a combination of scheduling class and technical problems, so he was neither there in person nor represented by a video). I thought Leon Rosselson's own My Father's Jewish World an interesting story, and The World Turned Upside Down the perfect choice to close with (and Billy Bragg - given that the medium does not permit ense,ble singing - the perfect person to sing it, though I wished his sound was better; don't know what went wrong there...).
But the highlight performers for me were the usual suspects. Martin Simpson - a recorded video, alas - sang Palaces of Gold, as he has every time I've seen him since the Grenfell Tower fire. Nancy Kerr sang Harry's Gone Fishing, which I begin to think of as an old friend (it has certainly taken residence in my ears) though I only know it from her lockdown project. Hooray, then, yet again, for Robb Johnson who demonstrated that I can still like something I haven't heard beforee, with On Her Silver Jubilee. You might think that would be a little out of date by now, but since it opens with Rosselson's memories of the Coronation, and the gist of the song is What, is she still here?, it is even more to the point than it was when written: you don't have to take my word for this.