The London Contemporary Orchestra's Imagined Occasions: Not as scary as you might think

In a world of built-in obsolescence, everchanging fashions and even faster-changing technology, the arts might just be the last field in which age and experience have increased their value. Audiences will pay more now to see greats on their way out – Plác

The London Contemporary Orchestra
Imagined Occasions

In a world of built-in obsolescence, everchanging fashions and even faster-changing technology, the arts might just be the last field in which age and experience have increased their value. Audiences will pay more now to see greats on their way out – Plácido Domingo, Ian McKellen, the Rolling Stones – than those on their way up. So it’s something of a surprise to meet a classical group with no grand plans for the future.

“We have given real thought to what happens if we’re still going in ten or 15 years’ time,” says Hugh Brunt, the twenty something artistic co-director of the London Contemporary Orchestra (LCO). “When we get to 35 or 40, we may have to sack ourselves and find other artists and directors to take things forward.” He isn’t joking – it’s a mark of his seriousness, his faith in an ensemble whose raison d’être is staying relevant, that he would walk away from the group that he and the violist Robert Ames have built up from scratch.

In the five years since its beginnings as a one-off project, the LCO has created a cool but credible niche for itself. Combining pop collaborations and film soundtracks with avant-garde art music performances, in an increasingly polarised field the ensemble is forcing the Janus faces of the contemporary music scene to look one another in the eye.   

Brunt’s and Ames’s orchestra is an evershifting group that can equally comprise a quartet of soloists as it can 80 musicians. It has worked with artists such as Foals, Belle & Sebastian and Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood but also has ambitions to stage Karlheinz Stockhausen’s experimental chamber music behemoth Klang – a project beyond the fantasies even of the directors of the Stockhausen Foundation.

For the orchestra’s fifth anniversary, it is pushing the boundaries still further, staging a triptych of bold, new, site-specific concerts entitled Imagined Occasions that may startle even its staunchest regulars. Locations range from the top of Primrose Hill at sunset to an abandoned Tube station.

“The producer Helen Scarlett O’Neill introduced us to Søren Kierkegaard’s Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions, which gave us a sense of trajectory and broad thematic development for the series,” Brunt explains. “Kierkegaard meditates on three episodes: a confession, a wedding and a scene at a graveside. In a simplified form, our three concerts follow this journey, moving from death to life in the first, pausing at the graveside in the second and then pondering the afterlife in the third.”

The music of the Canadian 20th-century composer Claude Vivier – which Brunt describes as “very direct and heart-on-sleeve” – is the continuous thread through the concerts. His “Glaubst du an die Unsterblichkeit der Seele?” (“Do you believe in the immortality of the soul?”), left unfinished after Vivier’s murder by a teenage male prostitute, forms the centrepiece for the opener. A musico- dramatic monologue, it describes with terrifying prescience a journey on the Paris Métro in which the narrator becomes suddenly obsessed with a young man. The disused Aldwych Station will be the perfect setting for the LCO’s performance.

“By creating a physical narrative and context, we hope that we’ll allow the audience to engage more closely with the music than they might be able to in a concert hall,” Brunt tells me. “Here, the performance will start off outside the station at a newsstand where people will collect a newspaper that is their programme. They will then have their train tickets checked and continue into the ticket hall, where they’ll find themselves among the hustle and bustle of commuters – as though we have reopened the station. This is where sounds first attract the audience and they’ll be drawn down the 100-odd steps to the platform by the sounds of Philippe Manoury’s “Inharmonies” from below. It’s almost as if they become the spirits of past commuters.”           

The actual performances of the Vivier and the rest of the concert (which includes a new commission by Gregor Riddell written for the space) will take place on the train tracks, with audience members then retracing their steps to a now deserted ticket hall. It’s an ambiguous journey that will begin again in August at the top of Primrose Hill, where the LCO will perform Vivier’s Zipangu at sunset, before walking their audience down to the Roundhouse (to a specially commissioned musical soundtrack) for four hours of immersive, multimedia Stockhausen. Then, in October, the action relocates to Bethnal Green’s Oval Space, where the audience will move between derelict buildings around the site, to round off the process with a vivid experience of musical fragmentation and decay.

“It’s not as scary as you think” might as well be the subtitle to all performances of contemporary art music, so desperate are performers to reassure their audiences with promises of accessibility and reinvention. The London Contemporary Orchestra is young and hip and its performances are definitely not as scary as you might think – they are scarier and all the more exhilarating for it. Catch one while you still can: they may not be around for much longer.

The London Contemporary Orchestra’s “Imagined Occasions” performances are on 24 May, 22 August and 3 October at various locations in London

The London Contemporary Orchestra. Photograph: Jane Stockdale.

This article first appeared in the 27 May 2013 issue of the New Statesman, You were the future once

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In your 30s? You missed out on £26,000 and you're not even protesting

The 1980s kids seem resigned to their fate - for now. 

Imagine you’re in your thirties, and you’re renting in a shared house, on roughly the same pay you earned five years ago. Now imagine you have a friend, also in their thirties. This friend owns their own home, gets pay rises every year and has a more generous pension to beat. In fact, they are twice as rich as you. 

When you try to talk about how worried you are about your financial situation, the friend shrugs and says: “I was in that situation too.”

Un-friend, right? But this is, in fact, reality. A study from the Institute for Fiscal Studies found that Brits in their early thirties have a median wealth of £27,000. But ten years ago, a thirty something had £53,000. In other words, that unbearable friend is just someone exactly the same as you, who is now in their forties. 

Not only do Brits born in the early 1980s have half the wealth they would have had if they were born in the 1970s, but they are the first generation to be in this position since World War II.  According to the IFS study, each cohort has got progressively richer. But then, just as the 1980s kids were reaching adulthood, a couple of things happened at once.

House prices raced ahead of wages. Employers made pensions less generous. And, at the crucial point that the 1980s kids were finding their feet in the jobs market, the recession struck. The 1980s kids didn’t manage to buy homes in time to take advantage of low mortgage rates. Instead, they are stuck paying increasing amounts of rent. 

If the wealth distribution between someone in their 30s and someone in their 40s is stark, this is only the starting point in intergenerational inequality. The IFS expects pensioners’ incomes to race ahead of workers in the coming decade. 

So why, given this unprecedented reversal in fortunes, are Brits in their early thirties not marching in the streets? Why are they not burning tyres outside the Treasury while shouting: “Give us out £26k back?” 

The obvious fact that no one is going to be protesting their granny’s good fortune aside, it seems one reason for the 1980s kids’ resignation is they are still in denial. One thirty something wrote to The Staggers that the idea of being able to buy a house had become too abstract to worry about. Instead:

“You just try and get through this month and then worry about next month, which is probably self-defeating, but I think it's quite tough to get in the mindset that you're going to put something by so maybe in 10 years you can buy a shoebox a two-hour train ride from where you actually want to be.”

Another reflected that “people keep saying ‘something will turn up’”.

The Staggers turned to our resident thirty something, Yo Zushi, for his thoughts. He agreed with the IFS analysis that the recession mattered:

"We were spoiled by an artificially inflated balloon of cheap credit and growing up was something you did… later. Then the crash came in 2007-2008, and it became something we couldn’t afford to do. 

I would have got round to becoming comfortably off, I tell myself, had I been given another ten years of amoral capitalist boom to do so. Many of those who were born in the early 1970s drifted along, took a nap and woke up in possession of a house, all mod cons and a decent-paying job. But we slightly younger Gen X-ers followed in their slipstream and somehow fell off the edge. Oh well. "

Will the inertia of the1980s kids last? Perhaps – but Zushi sees in the support for Jeremy Corbyn, a swell of feeling at last. “Our lack of access to the life we were promised in our teens has woken many of us up to why things suck. That’s a good thing. 

“And now we have Corbyn to help sort it all out. That’s not meant sarcastically – I really think he’ll do it.”