Music

I am delighted that modern-day Mill Hill still celebrates humour through music, whether musical productions, performances of Tom Lehrer’s music or our current Head performing a Mozartian arrangement of ‘chopsticks’ for an online audience.

McClure’s love for combining humour and popular tunes of the day with strict musical form was undoubtedly influenced by Gilbert & Sullivan, whose music was the phenomenon of the time.

The influence of Gilbert and Sullivan

may be plainly seen in his style: He took infinite pains to clothe a musical joke in a strictly correct garment, and enjoyed to the utmost a combination of beautiful themes with humorous words.

‘The Coster’s Saturday Night’ by E Duno Wahriar; but although the Head played what was becoming his customary instrument, the double-bass, and Mr Peppin conducted, the secret of the composer soon leaked out and his nom de plume was identified as the popular song, ‘E dunno w’ere ‘e are’. The performance started with due solemnity, but very soon it was noticed that the professionals in the orchestra were shaking with laughter, and indeed at one point the wood-wind became too convulsed to play.’ It is my experience that while music can bring forth the most divine beauty and elicit powerful emotions from rage to adoration, it can also make you belly-laugh, sing until you are hoarse, and then sing some more.

While contemporary standards might, at best, judge the works of Gilbert & Sullivan old-fashioned and, at worst, weak composition, I would argue that the political commentary is as relevant today as it was in the 1890s. I think Arthur Sullivan, an outstanding musician in his own right, was a master of musical pastiche and his musical choices entirely align with the libretto for which he was composing. In fact, Gilbert & Sullivan’s compositions were so successful that versions of their most celebrated works were being performed, unlicensed, in venues all over the United Kingdom and the United States of America (their career predated the establishment of an international copyright code). As a musician, an academic, and someone who spent time in political circles, McClure knew intimately just how clever and able musicians Gilbert & Sullivan were.

If one wishes to take pleasure in music-making, introducing new listeners to an array of well-written music, top-level orchestrations and arrangements, clever libretti, and making one’s audience laugh out loud, there is nothing better than to put on a production by Gilbert & Sullivan (a modern-day equivalent might be ‘Blackadder’ or ‘Upstart Crow’, only with the addition of a first-rate operatic score). I like to imagine all of the pupils, staff, invited professional musicians, and parents thoroughly enjoying singing, playing, or listening to some of these great works. McClure’s enthusiasm for their work is still in evidence at the School: if you pop into the Piper Library you can see the full array of vocal scores, libretti, conductor scores, orchestral parts, and accompanying literature all devoted to Gilbert & Sullivan. When looking to enthuse pupils and colleagues musically, McClure’s choice to explore their repertoire was a stroke of genius.

M c Clure, music and wellbeing

McClure performed the unofficial role of Director of Music for the first few years of his headmastership to accentuate the importance of music in the curriculum and create the infrastructure for his school-wide musical vision before handing over the role.

His compositions were well crafted and displayed a sound musical understanding, and a passion for writing and arranging music

Unfortunately, much of the written work is lost; however, we were able to perform a setting of one of his hymns (Psalm CXXXIX. 18 with text by Harriet Beecher Stowe) at Foundation Day.

As the Music Department became more self-sufficient, McClure was able to step back and allow his musical focus to become more personal. ‘The work was done chiefly at night; after taking Schoolhouse prayers he would shut himself up in his little study at home and work till midnight at his beloved counterpoint.’

McClure’s daughter writes that as he grew older, he developed a deeper love and understanding of musical theory. When asked by a colleague how he relieved the pressure of work, he replied by saying that, in both musical counterpoint and mathematical definite integrals he found a sense of order that gave him relaxation. Kathleen Ousey goes on to say that over time, music became a more absorbing pastime than mathematics and the more McClure studied, the more it revived an earlier desire to take a degree in music, which he started at the Trinity College of Music around 1900. He made a strong impression as detailed by the Director of Studies, Dr C W Pearce who, after assessing him for his Doctoral Viva Voce, wrote a detailed report on how he and a colleague were so impressed by his answers, the session went on for much longer than scheduled. They also noted how McClure lit up the room with his presence

M c Clure The Amateur versus Professional Musician

McClure was an exceptional musician, passionate about every possible aspect of music, who devoted himself to self-improvement and continued to study right up to his death. His musical ethos and ideals endure to this day in our purpose-built Music School and well beyond its doors through local concerts and foreign tours, and his picture takes pride of place at the front of our Recital Hall with a plaque dedicated to him. A question that I have been frequently asked is whether McClure was good enough to have been a professional musician. My response, having looked through various examples of McClure’s compositions, is undoubtedly yes: his deep understanding of music would grace any professional project. However, the very nature of McClure’s role at Mill Hill meant that, however much he worked on his music, he could only ever have the status of an amateur. What I would like to ask is: would the School’s music programme and ethos have been cultivated so successfully without McClure’s amateur status even though the definition can imply a lack of ability or rigour?

Old Millhillian and primary editor of the ‘Oxford English Dictionary’ Sir James Murray (who coincidently was married to a school music teacher) was in charge when the first edition was published in which amateur is defined as:

1. ‘One who loves or is fond of. One who has a taste for anything.

2. One who cultivates anything as a pastime, as distinguished from one who prosecutes it professionally; hence sometimes used disparagingly, as a dabbler, or superficial student worker.’

Modern interpretations are even less flattering: ‘a person who is incompetent or inept at a particular activity: “that bunch of stumbling amateurs”.’ Looking into the etymology of the word, however, gives us: ‘late 18th century from French, from Italian amatore, from Latin amator “lover”, from amare “love’’’ which to my mind reflects McClure’s musical interests and approach much more accurately.

Prior to taking on my current role at Mill Hill, I performed as a professional opera singer during which time I was lucky enough to work closely with some of the musical titans of my generation. I made my living from performing at the highest level, became well-travelled, and considered myself, in every way, a professional musician. I now regularly see ex-professional musicians being recruited into teaching to bring their professional experience to a school’s musical vision. Some are a great success, and some leave the profession earlier than expected. My professional experience brings something different to school music but is it better?

There is no doubt professional experience can bring an understanding of the expectations of a paying audience but it is an exceptionally stressful environment where the focus is on not getting something wrong, praying that you don’t get ill, focusing entirely on yourself in order to be at your best for the 7.30pm curtain-up while hoping for an outstanding review. All performers have had extensive training at the highest level, practice and study for hours a day, and have devoted decades to their understanding of their art form. A bad day for a professional often goes completely unnoticed by the audience, colleagues and directors because even a sub-par performance is still of an excellent standard. What I reflect on with a hint of sadness is that rarely have I seen a performer in the wings enthuse about their ‘love’ of the execution of their art. More often than not, colleagues questioned how much they were required to rehearse, how much personal preparation it involved, that they couldn’t find suitable touring digs, the money wasn’t sufficient, or they couldn’t get along with their dressing-room partner. Many detested the musical director, and complained their agent wasn’t working hard enough for them.

There are many complexities associated with the professional music world which you don’t find in the amateur one.

Old Millhillian Oliver Brignall (Murray, 2004) a current singing teacher at Mill Hill, sums it up rather neatly: ‘I went into the profession because I loved making music at school but while studying and working, your relationship to music changes. It becomes an obsession, and the obsession fuels the work, the work becomes about achieving the highest possible standard, not letting yourself and others down, it becomes competitive and your focus becomes about getting more work. Somewhere along the line, you forget that you love the music.’

McClure’s genuine love of music and his knowledge of its profound effect on others was the driving force in the creation of the school’s musical culture.

Where professional musicians have a habit of focusing solely on their specific musical task or journey and performing their music to the best of their ability McClure’s particular focus was to plant musical seeds and help them grow.

By creating joyful musical experiences for his pupils, he started a 130-year tradition that continues today and will, I am sure, continue to flourish into the future.

Just as they did in McClure’s heyday, our pupils turn up to orchestra practice, some with pencils and some without, they play in glorious concerts both small and large scale, the choir still leads singing in chapel, and we still perform an excellent ‘Messiah!’ All of our musicians have a wealth of opportunity to learn and perform: some of them use to it help them pass entrance auditions to music conservatoires and national ensembles, while some pupils just enjoy turning up every week and performing in the end of term concerts.

Music is still for everyone at Mill Hill and it is still learned, rehearsed, and performed in the traditions that McClure instilled in the buildings that he built or inspired.