The Review

Here is the info Steve sent me:
London Improvisers Orchestra at Amadeus, Sunday July 20, 2008:

Adam Bohman - amplified objects
Tony Marsh - drum set
Caroline Kraabel - alto saxophone
Dominic Lash - contrabass
Torben Snekkestad - soprano saxophone and clarinet
Roland Ramanan - trumpet
Alexander Hawkins - keyboard and piano on A5
Rodrigo Montoya - shamisen
Sarah Robins - flute and piccolo
Ray Warleigh - alto saxophone and flute
Javier Carmona - percusssion
Ricardo Tejero - clarinet
Ute Kanngiesser - 'cello
Philipp Wachsmann - violin
John Rangecroft - clarinet
Lol Coxhill - soprano saxophone on B1
Ivor Kallin - viola
Steve Beresford - piano except on A5


A
1 conduction by Wachsmann
2 conduction by Ramanan
3 small group: Montoya, Snekkestad, Lash, Beresford
4 conduction by Kraabel
5 conduction by Beresford

And here is my wildly pretentious review!!!
Amadeus is a Subud meeting centre in Little Venice- set in strange streets with an ironed and starched feel and absolutely NO litter at all (can this be London?)

Inside, Steve Beresford drifts through the room like a Beta Pied Piper, and gradually the musicians flow towards the performing area where their chairs are set out ready...
(I had to get used to it so I can't review the first piece)
As they sit they show the same degree of concentration as athletes; the second conductor does a sort of noise meditation. The orchestra put their hands on their heads and hum ( I joined in too, actually) and one by one, instruments join and leave the noise.
The conductor was a sound controller- or thought he was until the piece ended itself and took him by surprise!
The third piece was a small group. Who decided who stayed and who left? I couldn't work it out.
Steve Beresford's piano notes twittered and dodged: I thought I detected a covert dislike of hymn-playing at school assembly there. His playing also had the distant spookiness of the accompanist to Albert and the Lion by Stanley Holloway. I loved the wooden timbre of the double bass and the shushing soprano sax- the room has excellent acoustics.
The fourth piece was conducted by a woman who had an idea in her head that did not include the sax player in the front row, who had two goes at playing a little motif, only to be steamrollered in mime twice. Eventually, the piece stopped and started again. It began as an air on mains hum before developing into rattlesnakes and havoc in a 1950s kitchen, getting wilder and wilder, making me imagine Eraserhead: she made slanting movements with her arms and the instruments made slanting sounds (how that?), before subsiding to mains hum again. During all this, she strode around the room, soaking up the sounds before giving more instructions.
I was fascinated by the chap with all the instruments laid out on a table playing an electronic spring with a violin bow and a lightbulb.
Last up in the first half, it was Steve's turn to conduct. He let the sax player have his moment, embedding him into the piece right from the start; with the baton clamped between his teeth, he created a dynamic, rumbling piece like a stew with lots of chunky bits in it, during which I discovered that if you play a wine glass half full (or half empty) with water with a violin bow, it sounds different if you play the side nearest to you or the side furthest away. Ah, the Duracell rabbits bouced down the stairs in my imagination, screaming intermittently. Steve introduced smiles into the music; what an exercise in diplomacy it must be to conduct an improvisers' orchestra! In the Horns I used to work it so that each person got a song with a solo in turn. This line-up must be hell and there must be lots of grumpy phone calls on a Sunday evening between those who feel cheated by the conductor's choices! Somehow, he managed to let each person express their personality; there was an achingly lovely flute solo, so beautiful, and then a guy blowing on to a timbale with pursed lips and making a trombone-like sound, a cross between a fart and an angry wasp.
Well
What a way to spend a Sunday afternoon! Quiet and loud at the same time, another of London's many music worlds. I am a person not made to enjoy improvised music, I like a nice crunchy verse followed by a nice juicy chorus, but I did find it fascinating and perfect for a change of mood, concentrating on timbres and instrumental coonversations. I would love to see this lot do a gig in a tube carriage, spontaneously!