Patrons & Friends
Patronage and funding has always been an key issue for all orchestras whether professional or amateur. Madame Marie Reymond provided the funds to enable the establishment of the North Staffs Symphony Orchestra. She then set about inviting Patrons to support the orchestra.FAMOUS PATRONS of the NSSO
Sir Henry Wood
Sir Edward Elgar
Sir Granville Bantock
Jean Sibelius
William Wallace
The Duchess of Sutherland
The Countess of Warwick
Bishop Weldon
Rt Hon David Lloyd George
Sir Hubert Parry
HIH The Grand Duke Michael
Charles MacLean
Rt Hon Earl of Lichfield
HIH Prince Esterhazy
JEAN SIBELIUS
Johann Julius Christian “Jean” Sibelius [1865-1957] was one of the pre-eminent composers of the twentieth century. He was born into a professional family in Hämeenlinna, a small town and educational centre about 100km north of Helsinki. After high school he attended the law and music schools in Helsinki, before travelling to Berlin and Vienna to further his studies.
Madame Reymond wrote to Sibelius,to ask that he become Patron of the North Staffordshire Symphony Orchestra – a request to which he acceded, in this punctiliously-worded autograph letter.
Letter from Jean Sibelius to Madame Marie Reymond, acceding to the request of the North Staffordshire Orchestral Society that he become their Patron, undated but probably 1908.
Here is the transcription and Translation
William Wallace
The Duchess of Sutherland
The Countess of Warwick
Bishop Weldon
Rt Hon David Lloyd George
Sir Hubert Parry
HIH The Grand Duke Michael
Charles MacLean
Rt Hon Earl of Lichfield
HIH Prince Esterhazy
JEAN SIBELIUS
Johann Julius Christian “Jean” Sibelius [1865-1957] was one of the pre-eminent composers of the twentieth century. He was born into a professional family in Hämeenlinna, a small town and educational centre about 100km north of Helsinki. After high school he attended the law and music schools in Helsinki, before travelling to Berlin and Vienna to further his studies.
Madame Reymond wrote to Sibelius,to ask that he become Patron of the North Staffordshire Symphony Orchestra – a request to which he acceded, in this punctiliously-worded autograph letter.
Letter from Jean Sibelius to Madame Marie Reymond, acceding to the request of the North Staffordshire Orchestral Society that he become their Patron, undated but probably 1908.
 |
| Part of a letter from Jean Sibelius to Madame Reymond Probably 1908 Courtesy of Stoke-on-Trent City Archives - part of a collection of Madame Reymond’s personal papers. |
Here is the transcription and Translation
Transcription
Högfärade Fru,
För den sällsynta ära mig vederfarits genom att blifva utnämnd till Patron för The North Staffordshire Orchestral Society, beder jag Eder, min Fru, vara af den godheten att till de ärade medlemmarna af Eder Förening framföra min vördnadsfulla och djupt kända tacksamhet
Med utmärkt högaktning
Jean Sibelius
Translation
Esteemed Lady
For the rare honour bestowed upon me by being named patron for The North
Staffordshire Orchestral Society, I respectfully ask you, madam to be so kind as to offer your honourable members my respectful and deeply felt gratitude.
With supreme respect
Högfärade Fru,
För den sällsynta ära mig vederfarits genom att blifva utnämnd till Patron för The North Staffordshire Orchestral Society, beder jag Eder, min Fru, vara af den godheten att till de ärade medlemmarna af Eder Förening framföra min vördnadsfulla och djupt kända tacksamhet
Med utmärkt högaktning
Jean Sibelius
Translation
Esteemed Lady
For the rare honour bestowed upon me by being named patron for The North
Staffordshire Orchestral Society, I respectfully ask you, madam to be so kind as to offer your honourable members my respectful and deeply felt gratitude.
With supreme respect
Jean Sibelius
Until 1930, Sibelius frequently travelled abroad, and some of his compositions received their premières overseas. Although he paid four visits to the United Kingdom, he is not known to have visited the North Staffs Symphony Orchestra.
It replaced the Patrons as a more 'modern' way of generating interest, support, and, of course, much-needed funding.
This was a massive change for the supporters of the orchestra and it resulted from many discussions in the orchestra's committee. Here is a copy of the document which started it all.
Once the decision had been made the existing Patrons were invited to become members of The Friends and more new Friends were sought.
First Encounter
It was at St John's Church (Hanley Old Church) that my family worshipped when I was young. It was also here where I first met John Cope, the founder of the North Staffs Symphony Orchestra.
I must have been seven or eight years old when my father, second bassoon in the NSSO, took me to a concert given there. My most lasting memory was of a white haired man glaring at me and making, as I found out at the interval, a "get out of the way" gesture with his left hand: my best description of it would be a left-handed side stroke in swimming, but it was sharp and aggressive.
The orchestra was seated in the middle of the congregation, so to some extent the audience was mixed in and around the musicians. Young Woolliscroft managed to get himself in the line of vision between the conductor and a woodwind player. Not very clever of me but I didn't know, did I? I remember being most put out by his attitude. That was my FIRST ENCOUNTER with John Cope and I thought at the time that I was badly done by. It was also the beginning of a lifelong friendship with the orchestra.
I cannot help feeling a tinge of sadness when I think of the closure of Hanley Old Church. I have warm and cherished memories of it up to and including the war years. A living and vibrant church, Reverend Arthur Tracer was the vicar and the choir master, and the organist was Carl Oliver, father of the late Jack Oliver, the music correspondent of the Evening Sentinel for so many years. Carl was a grand old man even then and a fine musician. An eccentric of the old school, he looked, to my young eyes, very Prussian and formidable with his bald head and walrus moustache.
Carl Oliver was a close friend of John Cope and the NSSO and he organised the selling of its programmes. I became a programme seller and recall in the early days that I could not remember his name very well: I once referred to him has Mr Palm Olive! We both had a good laugh about it later. I also remember the concerts given in the Victoria Hall at the time, 1934 onwards, with such soloists as Albert Sammons, Solomon, Alfred Cortot, Benno Moiseiwitsch, Louis Kentner and others. On one occasion, at the final rehearsal, the solo pianist was not impressed by the orchestra's playing and threatened not to appear on the night. However he was persuaded to do so, only to get lost himself, in a cadenza. John Cope had to sing his part to bring him back in. The orchestra played really well and my love of music started to grow. Those were good days!
The early years
My father took me to NSSO rehearsals each Monday evening and I sat next to him to try to read his music. I was conveniently placed; as second bassoonist he sat on the extreme left of the woodwind section. In the early Thirties rehearsals took place at St John's School in Lichfield Street, Hanley, next to the Albion Hotel and opposite the old swimming baths. Monday night was always an enjoyable occasion. After rehearsal dad would sometimes call in at the Albion for a drink with his friends and he would buy me a lemonade, to drink outside in the bottom doorway. On the way home we would often call at the fish and chip shop in Hope Street, just above Hannover Street where Arnold Bennett was born. In those days Bennett's home was a music shop owned by Reginald Nettel, a scholarly man who loved music; I think he played viola in the orchestra. I bought my first side drum from him.
St. John's School was the home of the orchestra for many years, but eventually we had to move to Charles Street Methodist Church which was opposite Palmer's Timber Yard; later burned down in a terrible fire. We were at the church for only a short time before moving yet again to the old Presbyterian Church in Trinity Street, Hanley.
As well as selling programmes, I helped by collecting the music stands after each rehearsal. The idea was that each player folded their stand and I, with others, collected them and put them into boxes for storage. There was always a minority who didn't bother to fold their stands, which delayed and frustrated those who did the job regularly. I'm sure it doesn't happen these days! Mr Birkenshaw and Miss Taylor of Taylor's Furniture Store in Marsh Street, librarians at the time, were regular helpers.
Few professional orchestras visited the Potteries before the War so NSSO concerts usually filled the Victoria Hall. I well remember a performance of Beethoven's 5th. At the end of the Fugue in the Third movement, starting with cellos and basses, the audience stopped the performance by bursting into spontaneous applause. Charles Caddick-Adams, principal cellist (father of John who was secretary of the orchestra for 45 years until 1995) and the whole of the string section rose to take the applause and had to play it again.
During all this time, I recall only one social occasion, a Saturday out to Dovedale. It was a fine summers day when we caught the train at Bucknall Station to take us to our destination. I can't remember where, but from there we walked to the dales to a small restaurant somewhere in the middle of a most beautiful setting where we had a meal before returning to catch the train back to The Potteries in time for the last bus home.
The orchestra was engaged to play for two consecutive years at the Stafford Music Festival with guest conductors. I don't recall the programme in the first year but the conductor was Dr. Cecil Armstrong Gibbs, a composer and musicologist at Cambridge. The second year it was Dr. Adrian Boult conducting concert performance of Carmen. By that time I was learning percussion and played in the orchestra. I got to know him more in the sixties with the Hallé and such was his memory that he remembered the Stafford Festival quite well. They were wonderful times, the second world war was still four or five years away and life was good.
The war and other storms
John Cope was very stern at the rostrum. My father used to say "he can put the fear of God into you sometimes", but away from rehearsal he was the most modest, kindest of men. I visited his home in Charles Street, Hanley, and we often discussed music. To illustrate a point he would stride to the piano and with his big strong hands instinctively play the phrase concerned; such was his mastery of music. He was also a very good orchestral trainer and under his baton the standard of playing was very high. Like today, there are many good amateur musicians to call on and so there was little need for professional players.
The BBC arranged a broadcast of "The Messiah", half the performance played by the North Staffs Choral Society with members of the NSSO; the other half played elsewhere. I recall many of the players names of the time: The Leader Fred Weir of Weir's Glass and later followed by Ralph Jack; Syd Russell, principal flute; Dr. Reed (?) Oboe; Albert Williams and Ted McCombe, clarinets; Billy Walker and my father, bassoons; and many string players. However, I soon became attached to the timpani, played by Cyril Swettenham. He was good and had perfect pitch; a great gift when one has to change the notes of the timpani to the next key when the orchestra is still playing in the present key. We became good friends. I thought only of him as a timpanist until my mother took me to a church in the Chesterton area, near Newcastle [under-Lyme], where, to my surprise, he was organist. He gave a fine performance of Coleridge Taylor's "Petite Suite". He Was also a talented pianist. Later, he formed two orchestras; one a small classical orchestra, he conducting and playing mainly Haydn, Mozart, and light music; the other a very good and popular old time dance orchestra. He eventually left the NSSO and so I was asked to play the timpani.
I remember a story about Harold Pickering, who occasionally played trumpet with the orchestra. When rehearsing with a local free dance orchestra conducted by the then Dr. Malcolm Sergeant, Harry had a bad time with a particular passage. Eventually the exasperated conductor said "You cannot play the Trumpet" to which an equally exasperated Harry replied "No? - and you can't make a teapot". He was really a good and reliable player.
The Presbyterian Church had sky lights the length of its roof and I remember on one occasion when Mr. Cope started rehearsal with the overture to the "Flying Dutchman", immediately on the downbeat, there was a clap of thunder and a storm raged throughout the piece. Talk about offstage effects; it was very exciting.
Little did anyone know that everything was about to change. War was soon to be declared. When it happened, we moved from Monday evening to Saturday afternoon rehearsals to beat the blackout. On one occasion there was an air raid, just as I was entering the building, a Lysander spotter plane with fabric shot off half its port wing flew very low over Trinity Street, Hanley. I hope the pilot got home safely.
I was called up in 1944. After training I was sent to the Far East and so my playing with the orchestra came to an abrupt halt. My consolation was that I helped to win the war - well there was also John Wayne, Eryl Flynn, Humphrey Bogart and one or two others!
Ominous Signs
When I returned to the Potteries after war service, I found an orchestra very much depleted: a far cry from the bustling musical scene when I joined the forces. At the beginning of the war, all places of entertainment were closed. Then, the 'Ministry of Information' realised that films, concerts, shows and parades would be good for morale and, as in films, be a vehicle for propaganda. As a result, many functions were held to raise money and materials; all to help the war effort. At that time, many refugees were coming into the area, some of whom had great musical talent. One such man formed an amateur operatic society in which he was producer, director and conductor. The costumes and scenery were made by the members themselves and the orchestra was made up mainly by members of the NSSO. I remember productions of 'Carmen' and 'The Marriage of Figaro', performed in the canteens of the local ordnance factories. The audiences were packed in like sardines.
My father was a founder member of the NSSO. One time, he added up the years he and his friends had been in the orchestra, it was in the hundreds. By 1949, dad and others had died and many older members had retired, leaving whole gaps, not only in the strings, but in the brass and woodwind sections too. Good young players were hard to find. As a result professional musicians were engaged for concerts. Worse still, John Cope was ageing and sometimes too ill to conduct the orchestra. So guest conductors were invited. John Hopkins, who eventually went to the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in Australia, and Charles Groves, both conductors of the BBC Northern Symphony Orchestra at the time.
The time came when John Cope had to retire. I occasionally visited him, by which time he had become a bent old man, unable to climb the stairs of his home. It was decided to find another conductor. For a short time, Dr. Percy Young, Head of Music for Stoke-on-Trent Education Department, held the position until he moved to Wolverhampton to a position of Head of Music. Percy Rogers succeeded Dr. Young as Head of Music for Stoke and eventually as conductor of the NSSO, having been a first violinist. The orchestra continued to survive but it was a difficult, time. Luckily, the professional musicians engaged for concerts were form the Hallé Orchestra and so the "band' sounded as well as ever.
When asked 'What is it like to be a professional musician?" the usual reply is Half the time we are bored to death and half the time we are scared to death. "Having never been bored I have never given such a cynical reply. However, I recall two occasions with the NSSO when I was scared to death. The first time was way back in my schooldays. Included in the programme was a piano concerto, scored for piano, string orchestra and snare drum. I think the composer was Lennox Berkeley, but I have never since found the music. John Brennan was the soloist, John Cope was the conductor and I, in my first ever pair of long trousers, was the drummer. I was terrified! We got through the piece quite well and John Brennan was asked to take the applause. Little by litte the cry of 'drummer! drummer!" came from the audience. Actually it turned out to be Carl Oliver and my father who, standing up and pointing, shouted drummer! The conductor and soloist invited me to take a bow which I did in some confusion. The second time was in Percy Rogers' time. We were playing "The Carnival of the Animals' with Joan and Valerie Trimble on pianos. The work includes xylophone and glockenspiel. A local player who owned a xylophone was engaged on the day of the concert but there was one problem, he could not play it. As there is no timpani in that work Percy Rogers asked me if I would do it but I had never played a xylophone. However in my youthful impulsiveness I said yes: As a consequence l spent all of the time between rehearsal and concert finding and memorising the notes. We got through it but was scared to death. I suppose they were my first moments of glory too.
And the band plays on
In April 1962, John Cope Passed away; it was a devastating time. Sometime later, I visited his home to collect a few mementos he had left for me: a 1900 edition of Groves; two framed sketches, one of Handel, the other of Beethoven; several miniature scores and the biographies of Delius, Cesar Franck and Brahms. When I first opened the Brahms biography, a newspaper cutting dropped out. It began, "Yesterday morning, at nine o' clock, I regret to say that Johannes Brahms, one of the greatest creative musicians, passed away in Vienna". It was dated 4th April 1897. I later met Mr Cope's daughter at Covent Garden Opera House, where she sang in the chorus. There was a lot for us to talk about, but our schedules gave us too little time.
There were two people, along with my dad, who set me on the road to music. Alfred Harrison, a school teacher and amateur conductor, who held out a snare drum to me and said, "If you can play it, you can have it"; I was nine years old. The other was Eric Burkes, who taught me to play the drums. However, the greatest influences in shaping my musical future were Mr Cope and the NSSO. Timpanist in a symphony orchestra is far from being a dance drummer; a drummer playing only un-tuned instruments is not a percussionist in the musical sense; nor do percussionists necessarily make good timpanists. My experience in the NSSO helped me to do both, besides introducing me to the wonder and great satisfaction of creating beautiful music. It was through my Timpani work with the orchestra, that the "allé Band" invited me to audition for Principal Percussionist. A rare honour.
Rehearsing a concerto without the soloist is difficult, there being no tune for much of the time. Eric Grünberg was engaged to play the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto with the NSSO and was only able to attend the last few rehearsals. Percy Rogers, conductor at the time, asked a local violinist to play the part. His name was Frank Taylor. Frank played the first movement so well, that the orchestra applauded him. Whereupon Frank said, "Shut up, I 'aven't finished yet"; he worked in a shoe warehouse in Marsh Street, Hanley. He also joined the Hallé in 1960.
Returning to the NSSO as a listener and friend, it's good to see that once again, there is a continuity of membership; so important for any cohesion within an orchestra. This is emphasised by the standard playing and obvious rapport with the present, talented young conductor Tim Redmond. I must also mention Ralph Chadwick, who does such a good job as leader and soloist. Mr Cope would be well pleased.
It is remarkable how family lines have run throughout the orchestra's history: Major and Mrs Caddick-Adams, John, who joined long before his parent retired. Sydney Procter, trumpeter for many years, then french horn player, succeeded by son Frank, who so ably leads the horn section today. Then my father, a founder member, played until 1949, the year he died. I joined the orchestra in 1936 and apart from war service, continued until joining the Theatre Royal Orchestra in 1955. In 1964, my second cousin, Terry Woolliscroft, joined as a trumpeter and today plays an important part in that very good brass section.
Some time ago, I mentioned to cousin Terry and Frank Procter, one or two incidents during my time with the orchestra. They were amused and interested enough to ask me if I could write some of them down. These five little articles are the result. I thank them for their idea and for giving me the opportunity to relive many happy and a few sad moments during my time with the orchestra. I hope that you have enjoyed reading them, at least half as much as I have writing them. Eric
The Friends
The Friends of the North Staffordshire Symphony Orchestra was launched in June 1994 (exactly 90 years after the orchestra was founded) as a new 'supporters club' for the orchestra.It replaced the Patrons as a more 'modern' way of generating interest, support, and, of course, much-needed funding.
This was a massive change for the supporters of the orchestra and it resulted from many discussions in the orchestra's committee. Here is a copy of the document which started it all.
Once the decision had been made the existing Patrons were invited to become members of The Friends and more new Friends were sought.
Notes
Immediately after The Friends was launched in 1994 it was decided that a friendly and professional looking newsletter should be produced to keep members fully informed about what was going on in the orchestra. The newsletter was appropriately called NOTES. Here is an image of Number 1 from 1995. |
| NSSO Notes No. 1 - Spring 1995 |
ERIC WOOLLISCROFT REMEMBERS...
In the mid 1990s Eric Woolliscroft (percussionist) wrote five articles for publication in the NSSO Friends 'Notes' Newsletter
First Encounter
by Eric Woolliscroft 2 December 1995
It was at St John's Church (Hanley Old Church) that my family worshipped when I was young. It was also here where I first met John Cope, the founder of the North Staffs Symphony Orchestra.I must have been seven or eight years old when my father, second bassoon in the NSSO, took me to a concert given there. My most lasting memory was of a white haired man glaring at me and making, as I found out at the interval, a "get out of the way" gesture with his left hand: my best description of it would be a left-handed side stroke in swimming, but it was sharp and aggressive.
The orchestra was seated in the middle of the congregation, so to some extent the audience was mixed in and around the musicians. Young Woolliscroft managed to get himself in the line of vision between the conductor and a woodwind player. Not very clever of me but I didn't know, did I? I remember being most put out by his attitude. That was my FIRST ENCOUNTER with John Cope and I thought at the time that I was badly done by. It was also the beginning of a lifelong friendship with the orchestra.
I cannot help feeling a tinge of sadness when I think of the closure of Hanley Old Church. I have warm and cherished memories of it up to and including the war years. A living and vibrant church, Reverend Arthur Tracer was the vicar and the choir master, and the organist was Carl Oliver, father of the late Jack Oliver, the music correspondent of the Evening Sentinel for so many years. Carl was a grand old man even then and a fine musician. An eccentric of the old school, he looked, to my young eyes, very Prussian and formidable with his bald head and walrus moustache.
Carl Oliver was a close friend of John Cope and the NSSO and he organised the selling of its programmes. I became a programme seller and recall in the early days that I could not remember his name very well: I once referred to him has Mr Palm Olive! We both had a good laugh about it later. I also remember the concerts given in the Victoria Hall at the time, 1934 onwards, with such soloists as Albert Sammons, Solomon, Alfred Cortot, Benno Moiseiwitsch, Louis Kentner and others. On one occasion, at the final rehearsal, the solo pianist was not impressed by the orchestra's playing and threatened not to appear on the night. However he was persuaded to do so, only to get lost himself, in a cadenza. John Cope had to sing his part to bring him back in. The orchestra played really well and my love of music started to grow. Those were good days!
 |
| Eric Woolliscroft with second cousin Terry Woolliscroft |
The early years
by Eric Woolliscroft
My father took me to NSSO rehearsals each Monday evening and I sat next to him to try to read his music. I was conveniently placed; as second bassoonist he sat on the extreme left of the woodwind section. In the early Thirties rehearsals took place at St John's School in Lichfield Street, Hanley, next to the Albion Hotel and opposite the old swimming baths. Monday night was always an enjoyable occasion. After rehearsal dad would sometimes call in at the Albion for a drink with his friends and he would buy me a lemonade, to drink outside in the bottom doorway. On the way home we would often call at the fish and chip shop in Hope Street, just above Hannover Street where Arnold Bennett was born. In those days Bennett's home was a music shop owned by Reginald Nettel, a scholarly man who loved music; I think he played viola in the orchestra. I bought my first side drum from him.St. John's School was the home of the orchestra for many years, but eventually we had to move to Charles Street Methodist Church which was opposite Palmer's Timber Yard; later burned down in a terrible fire. We were at the church for only a short time before moving yet again to the old Presbyterian Church in Trinity Street, Hanley.
As well as selling programmes, I helped by collecting the music stands after each rehearsal. The idea was that each player folded their stand and I, with others, collected them and put them into boxes for storage. There was always a minority who didn't bother to fold their stands, which delayed and frustrated those who did the job regularly. I'm sure it doesn't happen these days! Mr Birkenshaw and Miss Taylor of Taylor's Furniture Store in Marsh Street, librarians at the time, were regular helpers.
Few professional orchestras visited the Potteries before the War so NSSO concerts usually filled the Victoria Hall. I well remember a performance of Beethoven's 5th. At the end of the Fugue in the Third movement, starting with cellos and basses, the audience stopped the performance by bursting into spontaneous applause. Charles Caddick-Adams, principal cellist (father of John who was secretary of the orchestra for 45 years until 1995) and the whole of the string section rose to take the applause and had to play it again.
During all this time, I recall only one social occasion, a Saturday out to Dovedale. It was a fine summers day when we caught the train at Bucknall Station to take us to our destination. I can't remember where, but from there we walked to the dales to a small restaurant somewhere in the middle of a most beautiful setting where we had a meal before returning to catch the train back to The Potteries in time for the last bus home.
The orchestra was engaged to play for two consecutive years at the Stafford Music Festival with guest conductors. I don't recall the programme in the first year but the conductor was Dr. Cecil Armstrong Gibbs, a composer and musicologist at Cambridge. The second year it was Dr. Adrian Boult conducting concert performance of Carmen. By that time I was learning percussion and played in the orchestra. I got to know him more in the sixties with the Hallé and such was his memory that he remembered the Stafford Festival quite well. They were wonderful times, the second world war was still four or five years away and life was good.
The war and other storms
by Eric Woolliscroft
John Cope was very stern at the rostrum. My father used to say "he can put the fear of God into you sometimes", but away from rehearsal he was the most modest, kindest of men. I visited his home in Charles Street, Hanley, and we often discussed music. To illustrate a point he would stride to the piano and with his big strong hands instinctively play the phrase concerned; such was his mastery of music. He was also a very good orchestral trainer and under his baton the standard of playing was very high. Like today, there are many good amateur musicians to call on and so there was little need for professional players.The BBC arranged a broadcast of "The Messiah", half the performance played by the North Staffs Choral Society with members of the NSSO; the other half played elsewhere. I recall many of the players names of the time: The Leader Fred Weir of Weir's Glass and later followed by Ralph Jack; Syd Russell, principal flute; Dr. Reed (?) Oboe; Albert Williams and Ted McCombe, clarinets; Billy Walker and my father, bassoons; and many string players. However, I soon became attached to the timpani, played by Cyril Swettenham. He was good and had perfect pitch; a great gift when one has to change the notes of the timpani to the next key when the orchestra is still playing in the present key. We became good friends. I thought only of him as a timpanist until my mother took me to a church in the Chesterton area, near Newcastle [under-Lyme], where, to my surprise, he was organist. He gave a fine performance of Coleridge Taylor's "Petite Suite". He Was also a talented pianist. Later, he formed two orchestras; one a small classical orchestra, he conducting and playing mainly Haydn, Mozart, and light music; the other a very good and popular old time dance orchestra. He eventually left the NSSO and so I was asked to play the timpani.
I remember a story about Harold Pickering, who occasionally played trumpet with the orchestra. When rehearsing with a local free dance orchestra conducted by the then Dr. Malcolm Sergeant, Harry had a bad time with a particular passage. Eventually the exasperated conductor said "You cannot play the Trumpet" to which an equally exasperated Harry replied "No? - and you can't make a teapot". He was really a good and reliable player.
The Presbyterian Church had sky lights the length of its roof and I remember on one occasion when Mr. Cope started rehearsal with the overture to the "Flying Dutchman", immediately on the downbeat, there was a clap of thunder and a storm raged throughout the piece. Talk about offstage effects; it was very exciting.
Little did anyone know that everything was about to change. War was soon to be declared. When it happened, we moved from Monday evening to Saturday afternoon rehearsals to beat the blackout. On one occasion there was an air raid, just as I was entering the building, a Lysander spotter plane with fabric shot off half its port wing flew very low over Trinity Street, Hanley. I hope the pilot got home safely.
I was called up in 1944. After training I was sent to the Far East and so my playing with the orchestra came to an abrupt halt. My consolation was that I helped to win the war - well there was also John Wayne, Eryl Flynn, Humphrey Bogart and one or two others!
Ominous Signs
by Eric Woolliscroft
When I returned to the Potteries after war service, I found an orchestra very much depleted: a far cry from the bustling musical scene when I joined the forces. At the beginning of the war, all places of entertainment were closed. Then, the 'Ministry of Information' realised that films, concerts, shows and parades would be good for morale and, as in films, be a vehicle for propaganda. As a result, many functions were held to raise money and materials; all to help the war effort. At that time, many refugees were coming into the area, some of whom had great musical talent. One such man formed an amateur operatic society in which he was producer, director and conductor. The costumes and scenery were made by the members themselves and the orchestra was made up mainly by members of the NSSO. I remember productions of 'Carmen' and 'The Marriage of Figaro', performed in the canteens of the local ordnance factories. The audiences were packed in like sardines.My father was a founder member of the NSSO. One time, he added up the years he and his friends had been in the orchestra, it was in the hundreds. By 1949, dad and others had died and many older members had retired, leaving whole gaps, not only in the strings, but in the brass and woodwind sections too. Good young players were hard to find. As a result professional musicians were engaged for concerts. Worse still, John Cope was ageing and sometimes too ill to conduct the orchestra. So guest conductors were invited. John Hopkins, who eventually went to the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in Australia, and Charles Groves, both conductors of the BBC Northern Symphony Orchestra at the time.
The time came when John Cope had to retire. I occasionally visited him, by which time he had become a bent old man, unable to climb the stairs of his home. It was decided to find another conductor. For a short time, Dr. Percy Young, Head of Music for Stoke-on-Trent Education Department, held the position until he moved to Wolverhampton to a position of Head of Music. Percy Rogers succeeded Dr. Young as Head of Music for Stoke and eventually as conductor of the NSSO, having been a first violinist. The orchestra continued to survive but it was a difficult, time. Luckily, the professional musicians engaged for concerts were form the Hallé Orchestra and so the "band' sounded as well as ever.
When asked 'What is it like to be a professional musician?" the usual reply is Half the time we are bored to death and half the time we are scared to death. "Having never been bored I have never given such a cynical reply. However, I recall two occasions with the NSSO when I was scared to death. The first time was way back in my schooldays. Included in the programme was a piano concerto, scored for piano, string orchestra and snare drum. I think the composer was Lennox Berkeley, but I have never since found the music. John Brennan was the soloist, John Cope was the conductor and I, in my first ever pair of long trousers, was the drummer. I was terrified! We got through the piece quite well and John Brennan was asked to take the applause. Little by litte the cry of 'drummer! drummer!" came from the audience. Actually it turned out to be Carl Oliver and my father who, standing up and pointing, shouted drummer! The conductor and soloist invited me to take a bow which I did in some confusion. The second time was in Percy Rogers' time. We were playing "The Carnival of the Animals' with Joan and Valerie Trimble on pianos. The work includes xylophone and glockenspiel. A local player who owned a xylophone was engaged on the day of the concert but there was one problem, he could not play it. As there is no timpani in that work Percy Rogers asked me if I would do it but I had never played a xylophone. However in my youthful impulsiveness I said yes: As a consequence l spent all of the time between rehearsal and concert finding and memorising the notes. We got through it but was scared to death. I suppose they were my first moments of glory too.
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| Eric Woolliscroft on timps Terry Woolliscroft, 3rd trumpet from the left |
And the band plays on
by Eric Woolliscroft
In April 1962, John Cope Passed away; it was a devastating time. Sometime later, I visited his home to collect a few mementos he had left for me: a 1900 edition of Groves; two framed sketches, one of Handel, the other of Beethoven; several miniature scores and the biographies of Delius, Cesar Franck and Brahms. When I first opened the Brahms biography, a newspaper cutting dropped out. It began, "Yesterday morning, at nine o' clock, I regret to say that Johannes Brahms, one of the greatest creative musicians, passed away in Vienna". It was dated 4th April 1897. I later met Mr Cope's daughter at Covent Garden Opera House, where she sang in the chorus. There was a lot for us to talk about, but our schedules gave us too little time.There were two people, along with my dad, who set me on the road to music. Alfred Harrison, a school teacher and amateur conductor, who held out a snare drum to me and said, "If you can play it, you can have it"; I was nine years old. The other was Eric Burkes, who taught me to play the drums. However, the greatest influences in shaping my musical future were Mr Cope and the NSSO. Timpanist in a symphony orchestra is far from being a dance drummer; a drummer playing only un-tuned instruments is not a percussionist in the musical sense; nor do percussionists necessarily make good timpanists. My experience in the NSSO helped me to do both, besides introducing me to the wonder and great satisfaction of creating beautiful music. It was through my Timpani work with the orchestra, that the "allé Band" invited me to audition for Principal Percussionist. A rare honour.
Rehearsing a concerto without the soloist is difficult, there being no tune for much of the time. Eric Grünberg was engaged to play the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto with the NSSO and was only able to attend the last few rehearsals. Percy Rogers, conductor at the time, asked a local violinist to play the part. His name was Frank Taylor. Frank played the first movement so well, that the orchestra applauded him. Whereupon Frank said, "Shut up, I 'aven't finished yet"; he worked in a shoe warehouse in Marsh Street, Hanley. He also joined the Hallé in 1960.
Returning to the NSSO as a listener and friend, it's good to see that once again, there is a continuity of membership; so important for any cohesion within an orchestra. This is emphasised by the standard playing and obvious rapport with the present, talented young conductor Tim Redmond. I must also mention Ralph Chadwick, who does such a good job as leader and soloist. Mr Cope would be well pleased.
It is remarkable how family lines have run throughout the orchestra's history: Major and Mrs Caddick-Adams, John, who joined long before his parent retired. Sydney Procter, trumpeter for many years, then french horn player, succeeded by son Frank, who so ably leads the horn section today. Then my father, a founder member, played until 1949, the year he died. I joined the orchestra in 1936 and apart from war service, continued until joining the Theatre Royal Orchestra in 1955. In 1964, my second cousin, Terry Woolliscroft, joined as a trumpeter and today plays an important part in that very good brass section.
Some time ago, I mentioned to cousin Terry and Frank Procter, one or two incidents during my time with the orchestra. They were amused and interested enough to ask me if I could write some of them down. These five little articles are the result. I thank them for their idea and for giving me the opportunity to relive many happy and a few sad moments during my time with the orchestra. I hope that you have enjoyed reading them, at least half as much as I have writing them. Eric