Brian Eno is MORE DARK THAN SHARK

INTERVIEWS, REVIEWS & RELATED ARTICLES

Rolling Stone MARCH 13, 1975 - by Charles Nicholl

ROLL OVER BEETHOVEN, IT'S A CLASSICAL GAS

LONDON - It's been called "the funniest thing since Attila the Hun," "a magnificently decadent joke," and "a disgusting waste of time," but the Portsmouth Sinfonia, a collection of amateur musicians who are doing to the classics what Mrs. Miller did to the ballad, shrug off the insults. After bemusing English audiences with their contorted interpretations of Beethoven and Bach, the Portsmouth Sinfonia is being set up for some dates in the U.S. Founder and first violinist Robin Mortimore was a guest recently at the annual CBS conference in Los Angeles (the shrine of one of his heroes, Liberace) and brought home news of a possible concert at Carnegie Hall. Concert-goers should note that the ugly rumors which will precede the Sinfonia's stateside debut are probably all true.

The Sinfonia cultivates its self-definition as "the orchestra that can't play." The criterion for membership - currently about forty strong - is passion rather than proficiency, enthusiasm rather than polish. For four years the Sinfonia has been ingeniously mangling the classic in various citadels of classical pomp - most recently the Purcell Room, the Queen Elizabeth Hall, and the Albert Hall - and delighting audiences with their vigorous if approximate renditions of such favorites at Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat (transposed to A-minor because the notation is tricky), Strauss's Also Sprach Zarathustra, and Beethoven's Fifth.

Mortimore, a part-time art school teacher and the Sinfonia's spokesman, is anxious to point out that there is no element of prank or travesty intended. "We're not against good orchestras," he assures, "and we're not a caricature of a straight orchestra either. We're playing it straight and as well as we can. We're just not very good, that's all." It's natural, organic lousiness you're listening to, an unholy alliance of incompetence and showmanship. "The nearer we get, the funnier it is somehow."

The Sinfonia is charming a remarkable number of listeners. Nearly three thousand turned up at the [Royal] Albert Hall concert and sales of their first LP, Portsmouth Sinfonia Plays The Popular Classics, are around six thousand. The idea was started at the College of Art in Portsmouth. "Being at an art college," Mortimore says, "everyone was into art jokes. So we decided we should throw ourselves in at the deep end and start playing concerts." John Farley became conductor, "because I knew the least about music."

By late 1972 they had developed sufficient sham proficiency to attract a record contract with Transatlantic, and their LP was produced with Brian Eno, late of Roxy Music. Eno's involvement with the Sinfonia predates his excursion into the more metallic strata of London rock, and he is still to be seen sporting a clarinet and the ubiquitous red beret at several Sinfonia venues. "Eno was a friend right from the start," says Mortimore. "He was into a similar scene at Winchester Art School, but he was on his own there. He did concerts with forty-four tape recorders; we did concerts with forty-four people."

The Sinfonia's 45rpm romp through Rossini's William Tell Overture was mailed out to Mao, Lennon and ex-prime minister Heath, taken back to the States by leonard Bernstein so Pierre Boulez could bend an ear, and was distributed to all and sundry by John Cage.

Since its inception over eighty members have passed through the ranks of the Sinfonia, and on account of this influx Eno suggests "that the possibility of professional accuracy will forever elude us."

The motive does not seem to be pranksterish, but its effect, thinks Farley, is similarly refreshing. "The classics are becoming too familiar. Our music makes you realize how often you listen without listening." What you are getting is all the sweat and ragged persistence that is always hidden, polished over by professional orchestras. "Why is everyone so obsessed with trying to hide mistakes?" asks Mortimore. "Mistakes are so vital. They're part of the whole process of learning. Why shouldn't they be interesting?"