Notes from a small bandstand
By Carol Maher

The weather among other things has been the cause of many laughs, triumphs, hiccups and downright disasters, not all of them ours. It occurred to me that perhaps some of our stories might make interesting reading. It is certainly enjoyable for us to recall them and muse over their entertainment value. Hence, Notes from a Small Bandstand came into existence. My apologies to Bill Bryson and the late Alistair Cooke for pinching the general idea, although not their impeccable style. I hope you will enjoy reading them.

Weather or not to play
It was as I was pegging my music to my music stand in preparation for a park concert that I began musing about the variety of the weather we have experienced on those little places called bandstands.

These structures are usually circular in form, have high roofs mounted on posts and are almost always open to the elements all the way around. Very occasionally there is a sliding screen (as at Folkestone, which is deemed unsafe to use at present) or an awning (as at Southend, which has slipped into the sea) that can be strategically positioned to protect us from the prevailing wind and rain.

We play outdoors all year round, more in the summer than the winter admittedly, though some years you hardly notice the change in the seasons. Neither the organisers of an event nor ourselves can foretell the weather and occasionally (actually frequently) it causes problems. I have to point out here that by weather I mean wind, rain and sun. All weathers can create problems and we (being English as well as tetchy) never stop moaning about it. Hot, cold, wet; shall we wear jackets or not, do we need sunglasses, how many layers of clothing will fit under my band jacket, how many clothes pegs will I need to keep my music on the stand today? These are all regularly pondered even before leaving home.

Our willingness to put up with all that the weather can throw at us is totally mercenary. The band needs to raise money in order to exist and for the band to get paid we have to turn up where ever we have been booked to play. On bandstands there is apparently a rule that what ever the weather is doing, however empty the park/promenade may be we have to turn up and show that we are ready and able to play so that a helpful parks or council official can inform us that the weather is too bad so go home. Then they pay us. In reality the officials, like other sensible people, don’t go out in bad weather and so we get left in large, deserted, windswept places for two hours at a time and all there is to do is play. This not only keeps us entertained it also serves to keep the conductor warm.

Wind has a mind of its own and will lay in wait. We use clothes pegs to hold our music on the stand, – picture this. The day is dead calm until a brave soloist stands in front of the band. They begin to play… it remains calm and still… the soloist reaches the climax of the performance, detailed complicated passages of notes, he or she is transported on the glories of the music (that is to say, with brow furrowed, concentrating like mad) and the wind picks up just a corner of the music and flaps it up and down obscuring just enough notes to put the player off.

Funnily enough most of us only feel cold when we stop playing so chilly days can often mean we get through more music. Sun bounces of off white pages and dazzles us if it is behind us or just plain shines in your face making us all screw up our faces and look like cabbage patch dolls. You can end up with a funny stripy tan on your face if this happens early in the summer season.

Rain is our main problem. Besides being uncomfortable it can damage music. It can also have longer lasting effects but that is another story…