Gavin Higgins

Has Opera Really Become Homophobic?

2011-07-22T03:24:00.001-07:00

I feel like it's a little late in the day to be throwing myself into this debate, but I've been biding my time and waiting to see how events would pan out and finally it seems that the Opera North production of Harvey Brough's Beached will be staged after all! cue tinned cheers, hips and hoorahs for that!

As many of you will be aware, a not-so-small storm in a teacup recently threatened to blow the opera world apart. Well if not the entire opera world there was certainly some friction between one community in East Yorkshire and the North of England's leading opera company. What could possibly cause so much concern and panic that a long term community opera would be threatened with cancelation? amazingly just a number of references and statements from a gay character in Lee Hall's libretto: a scene of homophobic abuse and the line "Of course I'm queer / That's why I left here" were the primary concerns of a certain primary schools board of governors.

What surprised me most about this bizarre series of events was that in 2011, in the U.K. just talking about gay people could still cause so much offence and stout indignation throughout a community in North England.

The events that unfolded have been heavily reported, critiqued and discussed so I won't replicate anything here (you can find interesting articles here: Lee Hall's article, Tom service article, BBC News Reprot) but it seems that both the School in Bridlington that caused this ruckus in the first instance and Opera North failed to seize an opportunity to tackle an issue which has clearly not ever been adequately dealt with in the U.K.

It seems to me the School governors here have got the meanings of Sexuality and Sexual Intercourse mixed up, getting themselves into a right state of flustered confuzzlement. "How can we tell primary school children about sex? even worse about gay sex? When we were young gay people didn't even exist! Lordy Lordy!". Well clearly there is a big difference between sex and sexuality and the sooner children learn about these things the better. Sexuality should be discussed with children of all ages to ensure a greater understanding of the varied and diverse people they will come into contact with every day and also because at some point in their own lives sexuality will become a very big deal for them indeed.

Last year an elderly man was murdered in trafalgar square in London; why? Because he had the nerve to walk hand in hand with his partner through the centre of one of the most tolerant cities in the world; Because he decided to respond to the aggressive comments that were being thrown at him and not stay silent; Because he stood up for his right to be himself - would this be the case if the youths who decided to kick this man to death had been involved in healthy discussion about sexuality through their schooling and supported at home? Would this have happened if playground bullying had been stomped out early on? a play/opera such as this is a wonderfully creative and safe way to engage children and communities on issues that effect us all, no matter if you agree with the 'lifestyle' or not.

The proof is in the pudding of course and the important thing to realise is that this system of education WORKS! In holland children begin learning about sexuality at primary school. Not initially about 'sex' per se but more appropriately about relationships, different types of people, emotions etc. As these children grow up issues naturally turn to sexual intercourse, correct condom use, pregnancy, STD's etc. And so by the time these 'children' leave full time education they are mentally and emotionally prepared to deal with situations that fill British youths with fear and apprehension. Holland has one of Europe's lowest rates of STD's, teenage pregnancy, drug related deaths and homophobic violence; Compare that with the U.K. who is literally wallowing around at the bottom of that list and it becomes clear to me that anything to help children understand themselves and other people more thoroughly can only be a good thing.

It seems that all of this is a result of a terrible climate of political correctness that appears to have been spreading the world like a disease over the last ten years. People are so scared that someone may be offended by the actions, words or thoughts of another that an almost Eddy Izzard Church of England style Communist climate is seeping into our subconscious.

When Stephen Fry was asked how he felt about people getting offended by things that he had commented on, Stephen replied, "So fucking what?"and he's right: So fucking what if you get offended by something, that's your problem and your problem alone. There are plenty of anti semitic people out there who are 'offended' by jews; so fucking what? there are thousands of homophobes who would like nothing more than for all gay people to shipped away; so fucking what? Just because someone is offended by something or feels that someone might 'become' offended (this is a particularly British mentality) doesn't give them the right to monopolise situations out of fear and ignorance.

But perhaps it goes deeper still and is in fact engrained in our English psyche and probably has been since before the abolition of the monasteries. Back then the church had control over our mental, physical and 'spiritual' wellbeing and when things are imbedded through fear and retribution perhaps they stick harder?; an embarrassment of the naked body, the school girl compulsion to giggle at 'saucy' postcards at Blackpool beach, the inadequacies of science class sex education, the obsession with sex but lack of skills to actually discuss it properly, will the British ever get away from the Carry On film legacy and learn to deal with sex and sexuality properly? Are we in the U.K. forever doomed to look aghast at the sight of bare bottom or stray nipple (secretly of course loving every

moment of it)?

The irony of course, had this show have been cancelled as was planned, some three hundred confused children would be looking doe eyed at their parents, asking , "Mummy, why aren't we allowed to perform the play we have been working on for six months?' to which Mummy would reply, "Well you know all about about Adam and Eve? Well I want to tell you a story about Adam and Steve..."

Westboro Baptist Church - the saddest family in America

2011-04-05T04:12:00.000-07:00

Some of you out there may have tuned in to watch Louis Theroux's Documentary about the Westboro Baptist church four years ago. In The Most Hated Family in America, Louis spent time with Shirley Phelps and her her family in an attempt to understand why they hated gay people, picketed funerals and and sang offensive lyrics to Lady Gaga music.

This tiny church, led by the decrepit and detestable Fred Phelps, preach a doctrine of hate for, well pretty much everything and everyone. As far as the church is concerned we are all going to Hell: Gay people, democrats, cancer suffers, the British, the Scandinavians, the whole of America and yes, even Lady Gaga who's songs they rape and pillage to suit their own warped agenda.

Made famous thanks their prolific God Hates Fags campaign (one of their more subtle hate crusades) and for picketing the funerals of American soldiers who, in their opinion and backed by the Bible, are supporting the 'fag agenda', the Wetboro Baptist Church have become bizarre celebrities, the villains we love to hate (now you can BOO and HISS).

I must be honest here; I am little embarrassed to confess, but I didn't even know about this 'fag agenda'. Why didn't anyone tell me? I feel totally out of the loop. But thanks to the Westboro Baptist Church I now know that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I hate and condemn and preach and inflict pain and suffering on other people, no matter how much I believe in the deplorable God of the Old Testament, no matter how quickly my brain cells seep out my ear, I am still going to Hell. Well thanks for the advice Shirley.

Louis Theroux recently made a return trip to the church four years on, and despite their claims that so much had changed it was the same old God fearing, narrow minded hate show that we have grown to love. The biggest revelation was that two people had left the church; and lets be clear when we say 'left', what we actually mean is 'were forced to leave home by their own parents for enquiring, asking questions and doubting the authority of the church', a church that is still essentially less than thirty members strong and made up primarily with the immediate family of Fred Phelps, the cantina jazz band and the cast from Troll 2.

Despite the hate fuelled messages aimed at the world and the idiotic theories about the return of Jesus and the absurd claim that Barack Obama is the anti-christ(?!), what really upset me was the latent (or arguably blatant) child abuse that is going on in this church.

These poor children, surrounded by so

much abhorrent behaviour and lack of tolerance towards anyone have no chance of leading anything that could even resemble a normal life. One particularly disturbing scene was hearing a ten year boy talking about how he hates 'fags' (yea, we know that now, we could almost sing along) that the world was coming to end and that he was going to live in pink caves (hello?) in Jordan - the sweet irony was clearly lost on Shirley.

An even more troubling scene was to hear Shirley's eighteen year old daughter talking of picketing Muslims, burning the Koran and then wanting to move to Jerusalem - Now that is a movie/play/musical I would love to see; forget The Muppets Take Manhattan, here comes Westboro Baptist Church the Musical: Fred Phelps in the Promised Land.

Of course the only positive thing about this sad story is that the church is fundamentally unsustainable. People aren't joining their number (mainly because Shirley won't let them through the front door) and the rest of civilised human society find what they are preaching abhorrent. It's upsetting to think of how many innocent children's lives will be sacrificed to this absurd cause (although I'm sure they would argue against children being innocent and force their Genesis story on anyone who's in spitting range), but I 'Thank God' that I grew up in the middle of a forest, in the west of England, by a family who let me explore, think and grow.

Let's wait another four years and see if they still hate everyone when they have set up home in those pink caves.

New Year, New Commission

2011-01-04T13:32:00.001-08:00

As I stood on my rooftop terrace overlooking London on New years eve, taking in the elaborate firework display erupting from the London Eye, I was content in the knowledge that 2011 will be a busy and productive year for me.

And sure enough one day into 2011 and I am already at work on a new piece of music.

I have three big commissions to keep me occupied this year, all very exciting and challenging. The first, which has to be completed in record time (something I am getting used to now) is a work for brass band, commissioned as part of the European Brass Band Championships. The piece, written for the Tredagr Town Band, will explore the 'philosophy', if you can call it that, of the Marquis De Sade.

Sades ideas are controversial to say the least and in his graphic books he attempts to peel back the lid of society and show humanity for what it really is. Sade argues that it is impossible to repress our base, sexual tendencies and instead presents a dark dystopia where the corrupt, aggressive and strong win out over the virtuous, honest and mild. In Sades opinion, the meek shall not inherit the earth, but rather will be trampled, tortured, abused and ultimately destroyed - it is, in a sense, early (and extreme) Darwinism.

My second commission is for the Cheltenham Festival and the Flotilla Saxophone Quartet. I haven't thought a great deal about this piece yet and am currently concentrating on getting the first commission finished on time, but I have a few ideas about structure and the sound world the piece will inhabit. Flotilla are fantastic so I'm confident that anything I create for them will be in safe hands and I am very excited to start work on the piece.

My third commission comes from the Rambert Dance Company as part of New Music 20x12, a commissioning programme organised by the London 2012 Cultural Olympiad.

2012 will mark the Centenary of the infamous Nijinsky ballet, L'apres midi dun Faune set to the music of Debussy and I have been asked to compose a second part to this ballet. The ballet caused a stir on its premiere due largely to his 'alternative' approach to choreography: but what really got under Parisian skins was the explicit nature of the piece (the central character of the Faun masturbates at the end of the piece). Where as the original work centers around the idea of sexual fantasy, our new piece will take on a far more aggressive character exploring the base and animalistic side of the Faun (I see a trend emerging here!).

This is a fantastic opportunity to work with an incredible dance company and I literally can't wait to get started on the piece.

So, this looks set to be an exciting year - I just have to make sure I write some good music!

The Ancient Art of Collaboration

2010-11-20T04:20:00.000-08:00

As a composer I don't often get the chance to truly collaborate with other artists. Of course, you could argue that when an orchestra rehearses and performs a new work you are collaborating with those particular musicians. But a true collaboration, working closely with another artist to create a new work, is a type of creativity I am utterly new to.

Since my appointment as the inaugural Music Fellow to the Rambert Dance Company I have have been pushed head first into this world, working closely with Rambert choreographers, dancers and musicians; a collaborative approach I have found stimulating and valuable. The opportunity to work regularly with choreographers has added a depth to my own compositions and a more thorough understanding of the mutually creative process.

Having the chance to talk through musical ideas with dancers is an eye opening experience. You soon come to understand these two similar worlds work in very different ways and at very different tempos; my somewhat distant approach to a new work is at odds with the choreographers 'hands-on' methods. The musicians who play my music read off carefully annotated scores whilst the dancers remember patterns and phrases through repetition and muscle memory. The musicians put the dots together in hours, the dances take weeks.

But somehow, when the ingredients are correct the chaos of the creative process comes together and hopefully something new, interesting and moving is born.

Come and see the results of my latest collaboration at the Royal Opera House next week, 25th and 26th November. Click on the link below for more information and ticket bookings.

Rambert Dance Company Season of New Choreography

2010-11-02T13:06:00.000-07:00

The Rambert Season of New Choreography is just around the corner and I am currently in the midst of completing two new dance pieces for the shows at the Royal Opera House.

I am working with Dane Hurst and Kirill Burlov, two very talented dancers and choreographers. Check them out here:

Dane Hurst

Kirill Burlov

The shows are on November 25th and 26th at The Royal Opera House, Linbury Theatre.

For more information and tickets please go the the Rambert Dance Company Website

Do misogynistic attitudes still exist in the music world? They sure did 15 years ago!

2010-08-27T07:43:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago I went on holiday to Italy and stayed with my old friend and trombone player, Lisa Sarasini. I found out that she was preparing to move to Germany to study with the incredible trombone player Abbie Conant.

Any trombonist, or indeed any brass players out there, may recognise her name thanks to her credentials and accolades. But she also made headlines back in the 90's for taking on the Munich Philhamonic Orchestra and their conductor, Sirgiu Celibidache.

The following article explores the lengths that certain members of the orchestra, the organisation and Mr Celibdache went to in order to ensure her resignation. Misogynistic taunts and outrageous claims that, 'we need a man for solo trombone' did not stop Ms Conant from challenging the remarkable accusations that a women was not fit, mentally or physically, to sit in a principal position in this particular orchestra.

Of course this happened back in the 90's, but I can still think of instances where prejudices still exist; a number of brass bands in this country for example, who refuse to sign on women permanently.

My friend Lisa has a bigger set of lungs, better technique and a far more musical ear than a number of male brass players I know. I'm sure Abbie Conant will do her well!

Click here to read the full article:

Wine and Beer Turns You Queer....

2010-06-30T13:27:00.000-07:00

I'm normally very good when it comes to going out for drinks with mates. I have a few beers or a glass or two of wine and then head home (moderately sober) and all is good - Honestly!

However, when I go for my bi-weekly catch up with my oldest friend, the bass player extraordinaire (and tallest man I know), Benn Cunningham, things always go slightly awry.

I don't know what it is about Benn that turns me into a debauched alcoholic; The cheeky 'yea, right!' look when I say 'I'll have this one and leave' or the suggestive question, 'Do you want another?'. Maybe it's Benn's insistence on having a pint over a coffee (I really do try to resist sometimes).

Whatever it is, a quiet night normally ends up with us drunk in soho, me dancing on a table whilst Benn waxes philosophical with some old tranny at the end of the bar.

There was a time not so long ago, when I could go out all nights of the week, get totally sloshed and get up the next day and function like a 'human being'. Recently however, I fear I am beginning to show my age. One boozy night out = two days of pain and recovery with a selection of 80's Classics (The Goonies, The Labyrinth etc.) to get me through.

Until someone comes up with a cure for hangovers I will have to get used to them. I anticipate far more impromptu drinkies with Mr. Cunnigham in the future.

phone rings: brrrr brrrrr
Gavin: Hello?
Benn: What are you wearing? Fancy a beer?
Gavin: Can we go for a coffee?
Benn:........

A Quiet Evolution

2010-06-21T16:53:00.000-07:00

About two months ago I was selected from a number of applicants to write a piece for the Manchester Camerata Orchestra, something I was very excited to be involved with. Not only is the orchestra based in my adopted 'home city', they even rehearse in my old college, the RNCM.

The concert in which my new work will receive its premiere has been fashioned around the theme, 'Prague' and as such, I was asked to ensure that my new work was in someway, however tenuously, linked to the theme. So, I thought, 'I need to get back out to Prague and look for some inspiration'.

I booked flights and began researching the city. With my 'dark sided' interests (to quote a crazy American evangelist) I was gripped by the idea of a chapel made from bones. Sedlec ossuary is actually situated about an hour outside of Prague in Kutna Hora, a town that wears the signs of its Soviet past like an old jumper.

This incredible church is decorated with over 40,000 human skeletons; bones cling to walls, skulls look perversely on at a sacrificed Jesus and rib cages form an elaborate chandelier at the very centre of the chapel.
The church was consecrated on soil brought from the Holy land and as such, thousands of people desired to be buried here. When the Black Death broke out in the 14th Century, the small graveyard was overrun with bodies. It was decided to commission someone to get rid of the bones and what resulted was the ornately decorated crypt.
Although a visit to this church was the main purpose of my trip, I did not feel this was the right subject matter for my new work - it was too religious and not as perverse as I had expected.

Instead I have taken my inspiration from the Astronomical Clock in Prague's Old Town. My fascination with clockwork creations and the macabre drew me to a particular character on the clock - The skeletal figure of Death who, every hour on the hour, ominously turns an hourglass and rings a bell. I found the idea of a clockwork Death interesting and began thinking about the cycles of life and death. We exist purely in the moment; all things die and from this comes new life. Over vast periods of time things quite literally evolve, but Death is always there, turning his hourglass.

I also took inspiration from the book The Blind Watchmaker, by Richard Dawkins. The title is taken from William Paley's 'Watchmaker' analogy; A metaphorical attempt at proving God exists by comparing the complexities of the natural world to the intricacies of a clock. In the book Dawkins discusses the beauty of Darwinism and shows how the evidence of evolution can completely destroy the 'intelligent design' argument.

What is most breathtaking about evolution is how over unfathomable amounts of time, living organisms have changed, adapted and evolved into the incredible array of animals, plants and minds that exist today. What's even more incredible is that over unfathomable periods of time we will continue to change, adapt and evolve.

Of course these are big topics and something I can hardly hope to do justice to in a short orchestral piece. Instead, the piece is really an exploration of the organic (in the form of strings and wind) verses the cold and relentless chimes of time (brass). Juddering 'Bells' occur relentlessly throughout whilst the wind and strings change, adapt and evolve.

The new work will be premiered September 25th 2010, RNCM Concert Hall. To hear an interview about the project please visit the Manchester Camerata Website.

Dancing onto BBC Radio 3

2010-06-21T04:39:00.000-07:00

WOW! It's been a long time since I wrote a blog up here so thought it was about time I got on it! Unfortunately (or not as the case may be) I have been crazy busy of late; working with Rambert on their Sadler's Wells run, completing a new wind quintet in record time, teaching a host of new pupils, meetings and collaborations with exciting young choreographers and begining my new orchestral piece for the Manchester Camerata Orchestra (watch this space - more news to come).

The last time we spoke I had just sent the score and parts of my orchestral piece to the BBC Symphony Orchestra and was awaiting the first rehearsal. Since then the piece has been performed and is soon to be aired on BBC Radio 3. What a fantastic bunch of musicians - the performance was fantastic and couldn't have gone better. Despite all the horror stories I had been told by angry composers, the orchestra were so accommodating and a pleasure to work with - just a fantastic experience.

If you are interested in hearing the work it will be getting aired on BBC Radio 3 in the very near future (I believe the 3rd July, Hear and Now - but I will confirm this closer to the date).

Drag Me To Hell Baby!

2010-03-20T14:47:00.000-07:00

I have always enjoyed reveling in the terror of classic horror movies - I enjoy getting scared (slightly sadomasochistic but hey, there are enough people who get kicks out of jumping out of planes - 'fun'). Even when I was a child I would sneak Horror films home, curl up in my bed and scare myself to death (one fateful night this backfired and I was so scared I couldn't even bring myself to shut the door).

Certain films really stand out; The Blair Witch Project, The Exorcist, The Shinning, Mama Mia. But growing up somehow stunts your 'scare factor'. Many of the recent attempts at horror have left me a little nauseous and wanting a cup of tea, but recently I watched Drag Me To Hell, directed by Sam Raimi no less (Evil Dead) and I was that terrified little boy again, screaming into my pillow and sleeping with the lights on. This film is utterly terrifying - and absolutely hilarious. I have not screamed with fear and then laughed so hard in a very long time, brilliant fun!

If anyone hasn't seen this film I suggest you get on it, FAST!

'You Shamed me!'

CIDER!

2010-03-10T10:44:00.000-08:00

Last week I visited my family back home in the Forest of Dean (it was my dads Birthday). We went down to the local pub, you know the kind: The musicians stop playing when you walk in, everyone stares as you make your way to bar, the land lady bids you a sombre warning when you finally leave - 'keep off the moors, stick to the roads'. But, it's great for yummy pub food, warm ales and lethally strong ciders.

I decided to revisit my youth and bought a pint of 'Black Rat' Cider, (aptly named) one of the strongest in the pub (somewhere around 7 & 10%) - spicy stuff!

I guess this type of 'scrumpy' cider is a bit of an acquired taste, but I love it! Mainly because it makes for a cheap night out - you only really need two pints to be totally bladdered (ask my good friend Lisa Sarrasini) and at £1.50 a pint you're really not going to hurt your bank balance.

So if you ever find yourself in the Forest of Dean on a warm summers day, make your way down to Whitecroft, go to the Miners Arms and order a pint of black rat. I guarantee you'll be seeing fairies within an hour - and all for under £2! Ow' bist ol' but?

Jesus loves everyone, EXCEPT YOU!

2010-02-26T13:32:00.000-08:00

I have spent the last few days with the Rambert Dance Company up in sunny Aberdeen (of course I joke, the weather was apocalyptic and naturally I got very wet). The show was great and I got to chat properly to some of the choreographers and dancers about future projects - all good.

However, it was on my way back into 'London Taan' from Gatwick that the air turned sour with religious intolerance.

Across the aisle from where I had placed myself sat a rather severe looking women (29 going on 57) with the most hideous matching(?) luminous (snot) green coat and hat.

Everything was fine until I pulled out my edition of 'The God Delusion' by Richard Dawkins. A series of tuts and sighs, aggressive glances and a whole range of huffs and puffs were directed my way. (Readers please note; I had not said a word, made a noise or even acknowledged this ridiculous attention seeking behavior).

I just ignored this, assuming that it must be the slightly delayed train or perhaps the sudden realisation that the hat she was wearing did NOT match her hideous, ill fitting coat that had riled her into this flustered mess.

At one point I was pondering the books valid points and then proceeded to idly (and quietly) drum my fingers on the table - this was the tipping point for 'rhapsody in green'.

'WILL YOU STOP DOING THAT!' she screamed.

I was aghast and a little confused, 'Stop doing what?' I asked, genuinely confused.

'TAPPING YOUR FINGERS ON THE TABLE, IT'S SO ANNOYING' she bellowed back like Gandalf on a bad day.

('well lady, I find your hat annoying and that coat deeply offends my discerning sense of fashion' I nearly retorted - although in hindsight I think this was best left unsaid, I mean, Jesus! If I only had a mirror to lend her).

I asked the lady opposite me, who had found the outburst equally surprising, if she was finding my presence 'annoying'.

Naturally she 'pooh-poohed' this with a cynical smile. I decided I would retire gracefully and get off a stop early at Clapham Junction - something I did not want to do as Victoria would have been much easier to get home from.

It got me thinking - clearly it was not my finger tapping that had annoyed her. It was the fact I was reading literature that questioned the very existence of God. Now, I am not going to get into a 'deep and meaningful' about my thoughts on God, religions and religious people because, quite frankly, we would be here all day.

I will however criticise people who judge so harshly and without question other peoples morals, beliefs and personalities. I have never experienced glances of such unjust venom from a complete stranger before. Surely mere finger drumming on a table should not incite this sort of immature, aggressive behavior? It did leave me feeling a little wounded, but as I crept off the train, licking my wounds, tail (almost) between my legs I managed a cheeky smile and a wave goodbye to the 'green goblin' who was still seething like a rattle snake on a come down.

I can't really hold any hard feelings against this women: Firstly, she was dressed in what has to be the most distressingly inappropriate outfit since Kermit the frog decided to wear trousers (he has such pointless legs you see!), that can't be good for your self esteem. Secondly she was clearly in need of something that most of us get all the time - a good shag! I think most people would be huffing and puffing if they looked like Kermit on his way to church and were in desperate need of a bit of 'nudge-nudge, wink-wink'.

I will pray for her tonight: dear lord, please give the 'toad princess' a new dress and a hot male amphibian to hold through the night. Amen.

Finishing the Hat

2010-02-22T12:35:00.000-08:00

I have just spent the last year (on and off - probably more like 7 months actually) working on one of the biggest pieces of music I have written - and now it's finished - almost.

Finishing a piece of music is one of the hardest parts of writing (almost as bad as when you have to start a piece and have a book full of blank manuscript).

A lot of people think it must be a great feeling to complete a piece, a weight off your shoulders, the end of a project, party time. But it's not - it's an anti climax. It's like carrying a baby for 9 months then giving it over to someone else. Of course I am not suggesting that my composing time is comparable to the agony of childbirth but that's what I have just done. I have handed my 'baby' over to the BBC Symphony Orchestra and I wont see it again until it's all grown up on the concert platform.

It's a weird feeling, so weird in fact that I have already started writing a new piece of music! It's quiet, melancholic and slow, everything my Orchestral Piece isn't!

I didn't think I would want to write another note for a good few weeks, yet here I am, scribbling away at my keyboard. Maybe I am in mourning for my first child.

Dancing at the Edge Of Hell

2010-02-20T06:20:00.000-08:00

In March 2009 I was fortunate to have some sketches of an orchestral piece worked on by the BBC Symphony Orchestra. Although I have worked as an orchestrator on a number of projects in the past including film scores and ballets, this was the first time I had really had the opportunity to write my own piece for orchestra.

It was a great chance to hear my ideas come to life and also provided me with clues of where I was going to take the material. One year on the piece is entitled Dancing at the Edge of Hell and is a relentless set of dances and interludes.

The work is set in an abandoned theatre at the end of time: A company of dancers are about to perform their interpretation of an End-Of-Days festival, a party that takes place at the Gates Of Hell - a final apocalyptic rave before the end of the world. Though the piece is not programatic, images of crumbling theatres and fiery craters are at the core of the work.

Whilst reading the Divine Comedy I became obsessed with the Gates of Hell as a concept. I soon came across a picture of a fiery crater in the middle of the Turkmenistan desert and knew this would be the perfect setting for my piece; desolate, barren and dramatic - the perfect place for a rave. Recollections of the illegal raves of the 90's in the Forest of Dean and the famous 'Burning Man' festival in Nevada's Black Rock Desert sparked off the inspiration for the piece.

'The Gates of Hell' as locals affectionately call it, is a massive hole in the middle of the Turkmenistan desert. Although the exact cause of this crater is still rather ambiguous the hole is not so much an outcome of nature but rather an industrial accident. The story goes that in 1971 a Soviet drilling rig accidentally punctured a large natural gas cavern, causing the ground to collapse and the drilling rig to fall in. Noxious gas began to leak from the hole and in a bid to prevent an environmental disaster the Soviets set the hole alight, presumably in an effort to burn off the gas. The flames have been burning now for nearly 40 years and show no signs of stopping.

The piece will be premiered at Maida Vale Studios, London with the BBC Symphony Orchestra - 31st March, 2010. Tickets are free but need to be reserved at http://www.bbc.co.uk/tickets/before hand.

www.gavinhiggins.com

Winter Wonderland

2009-12-27T14:09:00.000-08:00

I have spent the last few days back in the Forest of Dean and, although the postcard perfect, snow capped trees have been a joy to see, I can't wait to get back to London.

I love the wilderness (in the U.K.? Surely not!) but feel that less is more when it comes to time spent there. Although I spent most of my youth in the Forest I am certainly a city boy now. I love the mess, the people, the noise - I can't sleep without pissed Londoners screaming outside my window and as such I have not got a lot of kip since returning home - who knew a ticking clock could drive a person mad!?

Maybe it's just best spent eating cake and drinking tinnies in a tent with your mates? (I spent March doing just this in rainy Scotland, much frivolity and capers were had).

I am returning to the Big Smoke tomorrow and am looking forward to being knocked out the way by some rude tourist or feeling the strain as I wait three minutes for the next tube.

Good ol' London Town!

The Joys Of Banding

2009-10-19T12:47:00.000-07:00

"Brass players are always pissed!"

"I don't like hanging round with the brass section, they are SO loud."

"All they do is burp and fart."

"....is it just me, or are all tuba players fat?"

A small entourage there of hurtful comments I've heard said about brass players over the years. String players, you should be ashamed! Singers, go and say nine 'hail-Mary's!'

Stereotypes can be a detrimental thing, especially when they paint us peaceful musicians as burping-farting-eating machines. Us brass players are not beasts that function on a base level. Us brass players don't spend our days jugging ale and our nights eating curries!

NO!

Us brass players are sentimental, shy, secretive, refined creatures that would much rather drink a nice Chianti over a warm Fosters.... wouldn't we???

I think perhaps I have spent too long away from banding and my experiences on the weekend have confirmed my worst fears - They were right!

But so what? Does it really matter? The fact of matter is many of the greatest brass players in this country had humble beginnings in local bands and that is something to be proud of.

So the next time you see a big tuba player, pissed in the corner of a curry house, don't stick up your nose, buy him a pint of fosters and join in the merriment.

And guys in the brass camp, lets just try and do it with a bit style.

WHAT A BAND!

Blog Virgin, Looking For Friends, Likes Pina Colada And Getting Drunk In The Rain.

2009-10-15T17:50:00.000-07:00

"Welcome, to Jurassic Park!" exclaims John Hammond.

But I'm not John Hammond and I don't breed Dinosaurs. My name is Gavin Higgins, I'm 26, living in London and am a composer, a drop in the water from walking talking(?) Brachiosaurs but that's how it is.

"Welcome, to my blog!"

Although some persuasion was required to finally get me to to commit to this, I have decided to start my own blog. HOORAH!

You may find this all very boring. If this is the case I do apologise, but if you are one of the few out there who happen to be interested in what I may (or may not) get up to then THIS IS THE PAGE FOR YOU!

"This is where I leave you Harry Potter" and this is where I leave you dear readers. I have a pot of tea brewing and it ain't gona pour itself.

So long readers, til next time,

Tata