detweiler competition
Art, Creative Writing, Drama and Music
2022
Foreword
The Detweiler competition at Bedford School has evolved over the years and this year was a special Detweiler occasion. It was introduced to Bedford School by Rob Campbell (Director of Art 1994-2013) in 1997 and named after the Canadian composer, author and patron of the arts Dr Alan Detweiler, who so generously provided the prizes until his death in 2012. Initially set up as an Art competition, it now involves the English, Drama and Music departments and so encourages the arts across the whole school and, as such, is a major event in the school arts calendar. To celebrate the 25th anniversary of the competition in 2022, the Arts department invited past OBs to join the event and celebrate the school’s plethora of creative talent spanning all year groups. This year’s competition, with the theme ‘A Sense of Place’, was very well received by a large and captivated audience. It is one of my own creative highlights of the academic year and I would like to congratulate all boys who entered the competition. I hope you enjoy this year’s winners and highly commended prizes! Antoinette Keylock Head of Creative Arts Faculty
ART Judges: Rob Campbell and Sebastian Chance
2D Winner Will Turner
(Remove Form)
3D Winner Chris Sporton
(Upper Sixth Form)
art
Highly Commended Ta Leepiboonsawats (Upper Sixth Form)
Highly Commended Samson Lok (Upper Sixth Form)
Highly Commended Alex Hayward (Lower Sixth Form)
Highly Commended Sachin Kambli (Lower Sixth Form)
Highly Commended Charlie McCutcheon (Upper Sixth Form)
art
creative writing
Creative Writing Winner David Shirley (Fourth Form)
Piano Players Behind the stairs sat a piano. It was worn and was made out of dark wood. Its keys looked stained, and had a sense of irregularity to them. The gold trim did not make it look vain, but it gave it a sort of sincerity. Its sound would not please any professional, but no one there seemed to mind. A man was edging his way through the fast moving mass of travellers. He came up and gingerly pulled the seat beneath him. His bloodshot eyes were jolting around, looking for danger. Once he sat, he pulled down his sleeves as far as they would go, and put his fingers on the keys. What he played was a sombre song, maybe a lullaby, the type of song a mother would sing to a child. The music started soft and thin. The man looked unsure, like he thought he would get stopped any second. The music he played was in no way complex, but still contained so much emotion. It hypnotized the people wading through the station. More and more people stopped and stared. The music got louder, and more intricate. People became quiet so they could absorb the sound. A tear formed in the man’s eye. Then it was over. The man looked over his shoulder, and when he realised how many people were watching him, he quickly scuttled away. On older man, with white hair and a finely trimmed beard, made his way to the piano. He sat down gracefully and then took out a tatty bag and an oldfashioned-looking hat. He put the hat down behind him. When he started playing, he flinched at the sound the piano made but carried on anyway. He started playing songs that everyone knew, always lively and jolly. His fingertips danced on the keys like they knew
exactly where to be and what to do. He was skilled at playing and obviously trained. Families gathered round and smiled when he started playing a song they knew. After a while, he asked for requests and smiled when a young girl asked him to play something from the new Pixar film. Probably having only heard it once or twice in his life, he played it like he had been playing it his whole life. He took a break and told the crowd he would be back in a minute. He swivelled on the stool and anxiously looked at his hat, quarter filled with pounds and 50ps. He picked up the hat and attentively counted his earnings. After he was finished, he sighed. A look of desperation came onto his face but he forced a smile and resumed his performance. He resumed like he started but then, as time went on, his music became less appealing to passers-by and became more dark, more hopeless, more tense. Families weren’t stopping any longer and all that was left was a man taking his pain out on the piano. A girl wearing bright colours came to the piano. She took out a song book from her bag and leant it on the stand. She sat, fixed her posture, put on a smile, and started to play. The music that came was deep and rich but slow and calm. No one knew what she was playing but they felt drawn to it. It described a place of darkness, shared between everyone. Sound rang out from the piano and filled the atmosphere. She played for hours like she was stuck in a trance. The darkness took over the atmosphere and anyone passing would share something in common, for a moment. The girl stood up, put her music in her bag, and left.
Entries written by the other shortlisted boys will be published in the English Prize Giving Volume.
Runner Up Anton Gryaznov (Fourth Form) Highly Commended George Barton (Fourth Form) Nathanael Hylton (Upper Sixth Form) Ethan Ofosu (Upper Sixth Form) James Robertson (Remove Form) Ivan Yu (Fourth Form)
Drama
Drama Winner Neo Bantock (Fourth Form)
Sense of Plaice
The calm still night surrounded me, blackness took over and the constant rhythm of my light breathing filled my head. The first warm fingers of sunlight fell onto my cheek, and I knew that the day had begun. I slowly opened my eyes and blinked once or twice to adjust to the soothing daylight. I got up and started drinking some cool orange juice and eating some crunchy toast. I left the house and saw the busy life of the village, rushing around, shouts of happiness and anger, the buzz of a new day. I started my journey to school and saw an old crooked sweet shop. As I entered, the bell on the door sang its little song and the old, warm-eyed shopkeeper greeted me. I saw all the rows of sweets towering way over me. I felt slightly overwhelmed and extremely excited at the same time. It took me quite a long time to pick what I wanted, looking and inspecting every jar with extreme delicacy. I bought three strawberry bonbons and eight liquorice pieces. I left the shop and carried on with my way to school. As I was nearing the school, I saw that no one was there, at first, I thought it was a prank or maybe it was a day off, but I decided to look around a bit anyway to see if they had moved. I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find anyone. Then out of nowhere a huge shadow came over the whole village blotting out the sun, a strange black thing surrounded me and carried me upwards. Flurries of
bubbles screamed past me, and I could see that I was racing toward the surface. I had never been above the surface before, my parents told me it was too dangerous. I thought that I might be the chosen one or something like it. I can’t breathe. I can see massive things moving around me, screaming so loud I think my eardrums are going to pop. I can see one of them coming towards me, it grabs me and then I feel myself being lifted off the ground and then dropped into some sort of box with lots of other fish that I realize are my schoolmates. It is getting cramped, and my lungs are being squashed. I hear a loud rumbling and the boat suddenly jolts. A warm hand suddenly awakens me, and I am lifted out of the box, and I can see where I am, glinting objects hanging on the walls, strange orange, green and yellow things on the board. I fall into another gleaming object, and I can immediately feel my skin burning and peeling. I try to cry out, but I can’t. This is the place of my death. Performed by Millan Verwoert (Remove Form).
Drama Runner Up Max Pearson
(Lower Sixth Form)
Numb
A man sits staring at a dead body that is held captive in a shallow, open, coffin. The coffin is covered with an array of decorative flowers. By the top of the face of the dead body there is a large, noticeable, red rose. One side of the rose is soaked in a red as rich as life; whereas, the other is tarnished indelibly by a rustic brown. Man: Speak to me. I can’t carry on speaking to myself. Just a word, an expression… something. The man gets consumed in a gaze, as if trying to picture something that transcends human knowledge but is as clear as still water in his own understanding. It’s like speaking to an empty house. An empty house I used to live in. The exterior is all that remains. Nothing inside. Nobody home! I’m shouting at the house and there’s nobody inside, or there is but they aren’t listening. Does the house still remember me? Can a house remember it’s previous inhabitants? Will it visit me like I visit it? The door seems locked, impermeable. My fear is not that it can’t open but that it does open and I find nothing inside it. The house used to be warm, it used to be a home. But what if it’s empty now? Cold. I always hated the cold. Silence. Do you remember when we went to Paris? (Chuckling to himself) I just about managed to scrape together enough
money. The shortcomings of a poet’s salary I guess. Beat. Of course you don’t remember. I can’t even remember what the occasion was. Just spontaneity? You often said: “I love me a man with spontaneity”. Actually, you would never express yourself like that, you were more literate than that. Much more literate than I will ever be. And more to the point, you did not speak like that. Anyway, ‘Mr Spontaneity’ decided it would be a good idea to go and blow half a mortgage on a trip to the ‘city of romance’, only to realise- shock horror- that I would come back to limited- to no money. It was a good trip though, right? You know, it wasn’t those ‘bigger’, extravagant, getaways that are my fondest memories with you; it was those smaller escapes, the walks around our modest estate. That block of flats was our Eiffel Tower. Our escape. Walks were our path to our own little peace. We walked even when it was cold; I never felt it then. When you—- the night you—(pause) I walked the same route that night. The loop we always walked.
drama
It was cold. I’ve always hated the cold.
Drama Third Place Will Roberts
(Lower Sixth Form)
I Don’t Know Where I’m Going
Two middle-aged men are in the car on the way to a remote area of the Cotswolds where one of them is due to get married. Care-free Richard and soon-to-be-wed Michael have gotten lost on the way. Michael: Well I’d say that this is the point where we officially declare: we are lost. Richard: To be honest, I’ve been lost since the map fell down that creased part of the book, back on the A44. I’ve just been guessing since then. Michael: I think it would be purely typical of me to be late for my own wedding. Why haven’t you got a satnav yet? You do realise we aren’t still in the bronze age. Richard: (hesitantly as if there’s a right answer) I just like to stay connected to my ancestor’s routes? Michael: We are talking about a satnav here Rich, not a war memorial. I’ll give you the money for one. Richard: Thanks. Michael: Now can you please tell me what road we are on? Richard: (confidently) I think… The M25. Michael: I’ve just seen a sheep cross the road Michael this certainly isn’t the M25. Richard: I think I’m missing a page? Oh no, just stuck
together. (Richard proceeds to violently try and unstick the two pages, ripping them both up in the process). Michael: You’re such a Dick… Richard: (smugly) I don’t actually take offence to that as it’s just a shortened version of Richard. Michael: Oh I’m so glad you’re not offended by that Richard. Because the last thing I would want to do right now is offend you. (A long pause, Michael examines a distant sign in hope for direction as Richard fiddles with the buckle of his seatbelt making a constant clicking sound.) Michael: (scornfully) For god’s sake would you stop doing that with your seatbelt! (Another, shorter pause as Richard looks around almost in boredom.) Richard: Are you really going to do this Mikey? Michael: When have you or anyone for that matter ever referred to me as Mikey? Yes, yes I am going to do this, yes. Richard: Ok man, if you say so… As long as you actually love her.
Michael: Of course I love her Richard. What an absurd thing to say. Marriage by definition is a legally binding contract of love, therefore by marrying her it’s almost a given.
Michael: Well-
Richard: (sarcastically) Hope that’s in the speech…
Richard: Oh I do Mike I-
Michael: Well we both aren’t getting any younger so to start the relationship search again would just be impractical. Better to be with someone you can somewhat tolerate than die alone.
Michael: (angrily) If you would let me get a word in bloody edgeways-
Richard: I knew it. I can read you like a book. Michael: You don’t-
Richard: (calmly after a brief pause) Well go on then.
Richard: I’m still on the relationship hunt and I’m doing fine.
Michael: It’s- um, it’s the flowers. I suggested ranunculus but she insisted on peonies, and that was just the last straw. Happy now?
Michael: Well of course you haven’t found a girlfriend yet Richard because very few people would agree to marry a complete idiot.
Richard: (trying not to laugh) So let me get this straight. You’re leaving your soon-to-be wife over some flowers?
Richard: (Stuttering) Yeah well… at least I’m not lost. Michael: No Richard, you are. Because, funnily enough, you are also in this car. Richard: (Inquisitively) Why don’t you let me drive my own car?
Michael: Yes. Yes, that’s right yes. Richard: Ok let’s head back then. Performed by Will Roberts (Lower Sixth Form) and Henry Gillham (Fourth Form).
Michael: Because I’m not currently feeling suicidal Richard. Richard: It’s like being driven around by an OAP. You do know this car does do more than 46. Michael: Well factoring in the lack of MOTs you’ve had on this thing, I’m not willing to take the risk. Richard: You’re dull, I can’t believe someone actually decided to marry you. (Another pause as Michael slowly pulls into a lay-by) Ah good because I needed a slash… Michael: What part of this B-road lay-by screams toilet to you? I’m stopping becauseRichard: You’re having doubts aren’t you.
drama
Drama Highly Commended Stephen Brown (Fourth Form)
Hafjell
Character 1 enters stage left onto a white stage. Ends up centre stage. 1: I breathe in, I breathe out. The freezing air fills my lungs, stinging my nostrils on its way. In, out, in, out. I am ready. Being back in Norway brings a sense of coming home, with the familiarity of years spent on the same slopes, watched over by the shape of a man in the trees. Runs forward and stops, breathless. I am at the top of the hill – adrenaline flowing through my veins, the fresh smell of pine trees wafting through the fragile air. In an instant, I am leaving the calm place and feel the pull of gravity egging me on. Faster, faster! Moves side to side as if they are skiing. The sun glints gently in my eyes as I rush through this beautiful landscape. I am filled with the strength of these ancient mountains. I carve through the pristine snow; it sounds like little waves on a faraway beach. Looks up at the sun. It is very bright. Suddenly I am flying through the air. I can see for miles. I can hear the amazed gasps of the watchers. I land. They jump. Perfectly, if with a little thump, I start the long sweeping
curve (move in a smooth slowing-down sweeping curve with arms as if holding ski poles) to slow me down and I end up just at the lift. The ride ends and the peace returns. Peace of being surrounded by the same familiar trees. They sit down with a sigh . I love this place. Performed by Will Hayward (Remove Form)
music
Music Winner Daniel Hutchins (Lower Sixth Form)
A Tale of Two Fronts My piece is called ‘A Tale of Two Fronts’, which is my visualisation of a trip to the seaside during the summer holidays (2021) after lockdown. On this trip, I visited two seaside towns in Suffolk: Southwold and Aldeburgh. I was particularly struck by the contrast between the characteristics of the two seafronts. Aldeburgh had beaches made of shingles and the waves were violent. On the other hand, Southwold was very calm in its nature, and the sand was fine and soft which made for a very gentle atmosphere. My piece aims to achieve the description and illustration of both seafronts and then identifying that both beaches are within 16
miles of each other, exploring the change as the journey between the two links the seafronts together. This is where the key motifs can be heard from both seafronts being overlayed together as the listener is presented with the development sections. The finale aims to indicate the midpoint between the two and to conclude the journey.
Music Runner Up Caleb Sanders (Lower Sixth Form)
Monday Mornings My response to this year’s brief of ‘sense of place ‘ is trying to portray my perspective of the places I go to and experience on your average Monday morning. Starting in a dream state, it progresses all the way to the most sought-after event of the day. Lunch! As you may be able to tell, I’m not a morning person due to the amount of alarms needed to make sure I’m not late!
Music Third Place Oliver Yates (Fifth Form)
Ghost Town This piece is for an acoustic guitar ensemble with two nylon stringed acoustic guitars and an acoustic bass guitar. This piece has virtuosic melodies and complex rhythms to create a haunting feel. This piece was written as part of the ‘sense of place’ topic. The image below is the source material: an old western ghost town.
Music Highly Commended Alby Chan
(Remove Form)
Castle Wiz My composition is inspired by ‘Castle Wiz’ from Tom and Jerry. The castle was featured in one of the older episodes in this cartoon series. In that episode, the soundtrack has a more joyful approach to go with the comedy. So, I wrote a piece that sounds mysterious and ideally suits the spookiness of ‘Castle Wiz’.
Music Highly Commended Sam Cutler
(Remove Form)
Space This piece takes you on board a rocket as tension builds before take off, the music building layer by layer along with it, starting with just the beep of the radio signal. This tension is released as the rocket takes off for the stars, and the music springs into life. The movement of the rocket, on its journey for humankind to reach the stars, is reflected by the emotional and powerful chord progressions and use of percussion. The piece then starts to conclude, as layers and layers slowly die away, as the rocket breaks through the layers of the atmosphere, and finally into the vast void of space, the only sound left being the blip of the radio signal back to the pale blue dot; Earth.
music
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