Creative & Cultural

from The Peterite 2013-2014

Visits & Exchanges

Creative & Cultural Drama

This year has been full of activity and fourteen different plays in the Drama department. We have transported the audience to Wonderland in the Memorial Hall and a tube station in London Below in the Drama Studio. Pupils have performed in two professional theatres: the Carriageworks in Leeds and the Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough. Pupils responded to the national ‘pop-up’ theatre movement of immersive and sitespecifi c performances with the A-level production Dust Off The Archives taking the audience around the school and A Doll’s House reimagined in the Recital Room (converted for the evening into the fl at of Nora and Torvald). The world of the play is extremely important and having Sara Burns as our lighting and set designer has been an incredible opportunity, it has also meant that pupils in production teams have thrived – particularly George Snell, Lizzy Whiter and Jodi Smith.

Aiming to ensure that we defi ne ourselves as a generation of ‘theatre-makers’ as well as being able to love and understand the classics is very important. St Peter’s took part in the National Connections Festival performing the premiere of Sam Holcroft’s The Wardrobe and we saw Ben Turvill’s challenging debut play Woolwich 2013 as part of his Trinity College Gold Arts Award. I have no doubt that he will be part of the generation of theatremakers that I talk of.

We have loved live music on stage: the Wonderband in Alice, Max and James as the foresters with their ukuleles in As You Like It, Emily McDonald as a busker in London Below, and a range of cast members demonstrating their musical talent in The Wardrobe.

We have taken a trip to London to experience Punchdrunk Theatre company lead audience members around a fivestorey warehouse in an adaptation of Woyzeck called The Drowned Man. We have also been led around York city centre getting our hands on 50 tickets for the criticallyacclaimed sell-out promenade performance of Blood and Chocolate, as well as Blood Brothers, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and a Frantic Assembly workshop in preparation for physical theatre work.

We have welcomed two new fabulous staff in the Department – Sara Burns and Maggie Smales – and one new baby (Sophia Heaton: congratulations Helen and Rob!). Thank you also this year to Mike Redley for set, sound and technical expertise, Tom Figgins for musical assistance, Dave Morris for photos, and Mike Duffy for stage fights, in addition to the Catering and Facilities staff – and, very importantly, our extremely supportive audiences. Congratulations to Ben Turvill for securing a place in the National Youth Theatre and Rosalind Tait in being successful for the second time in working with the National Youth Music Theatre this summer.

‘On Pilot Theatre Company’s website they refer to Blood and Chocolate as “an event and a journey”. I agree with this as the fact that it was promenade theatre meant that the audience went on the ‘journey’ with the 200 actors. It took the knowing audience of 2014 from York in 1914, to war, and returned us home again to the chocolate factories on which York thrived during the war. The ‘event’ took over the entire city for three weeks.’

Phil Hodgson (LVI) ‘As one walks along in the footsteps – literally – of the people in the play, all the events are emphasised, especially with the presence of the community cast: some may be relatives of the people commemorated so a community movement such as in Blood and Chocolate can be a great show of fidelity: a physical “we will remember them”given familiarity and a greater feeling by the intimacy of a community of actors and audience.’

Ben Turvill (LVI)

Alice

For one week only the Memorial Hall was transformed into Wonderland, complete with secret doors, rabbit hole, fake grass down the traverse with a more intimate audience on two sides of the performance space.

A cast of thirty-six, a Wonderband of five and a crew of eleven worked incredibly hard to make this production the magical spectacle it was.

People know the stories of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and the wonderful, often abstruse, characters Alice meets there, from reading Carroll’s books (I hope you have!), or from watching the Walt Disney classic film or Tim Burton’s adaptation. The challenge for a production is to find a way in which the episodic fragments of Alice’s journey can become one production rather than a series of scenes. There is a very

interesting history concerning the original manuscript which I felt could allow an older cast and audience to engage in the plot. This adaptation meant that we would need to present Alice at three different ages. We were delighted to welcome Dee Alton, a parent of a former pupil, and Tess Gilbertson and Nell Maughan from Clifton School to the cast. It was also interesting in the research process to find out that Dame Judi Dench had played the role of Alice when she herself was at Clifton School.

Our Alice told the real story of an adult Alice Hargreaves selling the manuscript Dodgson gave her when she was little, using that as a catalyst to remember the summer’s day when it had been written, and to take one last trip into the eccentric world down the rabbit hole.

Brogan Grant deserves a round of applause for her mature, defiant and playful interpretation of the iconic role even when dizzy after her spin on a ‘lazy Susan’. I cannot think about Emily Brown and Lily Spencer’s ‘fight until six’ as Dum and Dee without smiling a lot. The crazy tea-party scene with the wild Mad Hatter (Ben Turvill) wired March Hare (Rosalind Tait) and rather grumpy awoken Dormouse (Charles Barry) had an abundance of energy and humour I will never forget (nor I doubt will the poor production team due to the amount of props broken in the process). I would like to congratulate every talented performer in the production for the way they generously presented the audience with their larger-than-life interpretations of these two-dimensional characters. I felt sorry for the terrified rabbit (Duncan Smith) fearful of Cookie’s temper (Andrii Fokin) and wondered how the Queen and King of Hearts (Elle Illingworth and Peter Gray) could ever have a peaceful day of matrimony. The Wonderband were fantastic, entertaining the audience alongside the action and I don’t think any of the cast or crew will listen to Bastille’s Pompeii or Kodaline’s High Hopes without reminiscing about their adventures down the rabbit hole.

‘Curiouser and curiouser.’ Alice

‘begin at the beginning … and go on till you come to the end: then stop.’ The King of Hearts ‘sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.’ Duchess

‘There will be nonsense in it, not more than once a minute.’ Wonderlander

‘In such an hour, beneath such dreamy weather, we dare you to half-believe it’s true.’ Wonderlander

The Wardrobe

It’s the safest place they know – but is it safe enough.

This is the fi rst year that the school has taken part in National Connections. Connections runs nationwide and gives students the experience of engaging with brand-new writing and working in a professional theatre. The Wardrobe by Sam Holcroft spans fi ve centuries of British history as small groups of children seek sanctuary in the same solid, old wardrobe. The fi rst scene takes place in 1485 with Elizabeth of York (Amelia Bell) discussing her forthcoming marriage to Henry VII with her sister Cecily (Rowan Tait), and the last scene shows two teenagers (Esme Wright and Eve Bracken) exploring a museum housing the wardrobe, completing a worksheet about it using Google on smartphones. We were excited to see that the new blockbuster fi lm Belle is inspired by Dido from 1780 (played by Edith Norvor) The performance involved all Fourth-Form GCSE pupils who are studying the text as part of their course, and they were joined by a few Third-Formers to make up a cast and crew of 24 altogether. The Wardrobe was fi rst performed in school in February in the STP Studio Theatre to full audiences, including a director from the National Theatre. The second night was fantastic, but on the fi rst our huge wardrobe got a little stage fright and caused a few problems. We had a wonderful trip to Scarborough to perform the play at the Stephen Joseph Theatre, watch three other brand new Connections plays, eat ice-cream and fi sh and chips, and sing open-mike in the theatre. The whole cast gave assured, emotive and vibrant performances bringing these young people from history to life as the wardrobe doors opened in their time.

Shakespeare Schools Festival: As You Like It

Shakespeare Schools Festival is an annual event in which schools perform an edited version of a Shakespearean play of their choice at a local professional theatre. Last year we performed the tragedy of Macbeth, so we were probably in need of the romantic comedy As You Like It. The play follows four couples as they fall in love ‘at first sight’ in the freedom of the forest of Arden after leaving the constrictive court. We took our thirty-minute version, with Beth Bradley as Assistant Director, to the Leeds Carriageworks Theatre in October – where George Snell operated the show alone – as well as premiering it in the STP Studio Theatre. The Lovespotters took us on a playful, energetic, and humorous journey through the play’s four swoons, using binoculars to monitor the ‘heartbeats’ of the lovers.

Live music was performed by Max McLeish and Jack McCartney, with some popular love songs added to highlight the swoons, and the full ensemble sang Cheryl Cole’s Fight For This Love to the lovelorn shepherd Silvius, played with real character by Toby Johnson.

Louise Gould played the spirited Rosalind, delivering the epilogue with vigour even though ‘it is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue’ after falling in love with Orlando (Archie Stephenson), much to the disdain of her cousin Celia (Rosalind Tait) until she too suffers a similar fate.

‘Whoever loved that loved not at first sight.’ Phoebe ‘I like this place and willingly could waste my time it.’ Celia ‘Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak.’ Rosalind

‘All the world’s a stage.’ Jaques ‘We that are true lovers run into strange capers.’ Touchstone ‘Love is merely a madness.’ Rosalind ‘I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.’ Rosalind

Middle School Play: London Below

London Below is an adaptation of Neverwhere, originally an urban fantasy television series in the 1990s co-written by Neil Gaiman and Lenny Henry and later adapted into novel form by Gaiman with a comic-book series to follow. The reason this idea was chosen was because of the large number of pupils interested in being involved in the Middle School Play and therefore the number of strong characters and design opportunities it offered. Gaiman is also a great writer! The cast and crew of 46 performed the show for three consecutive nights in the STP Studio Theatre – transformed into a tube station in the magical world of London Below by Miss Burns, Jodi Smith and the team.

LONDONERS

HOUSE HUNTER LONDONER WAITRESS

FORTUNE TELLER ESTATE AGENT BOSS CURATOR VILLAGER TRAIN GUARD

ESTATE JESSICA

BUSKER JESSICA GARY SYLVIA

CROUP & VANDEMAR

ANGEL

LADY OF EARL’S COURT DOOR

RICHARD MAYHEW

ANAESTHE-

STAGE MANAGERS BLACKFRIAR OLD BAILEY

LADY EARL SFX HALVARD

MRS PORTICO

RICHARD

MARQUIS

LONDON BELOW

NARRATORS DOOR

RAT SPEAKER RAT

ILLIASTER

ANAESTHESIA MARQUIS

HUNTER

BLACKFRIAR

WARDROBE & MAKE UP

LAMIA SERPENTINE

Young businessman Richard Mayhew (Jack Hargrave) moves from Yorkshire to London, his act of kindness in helping a young homeless girl, Door (Eve Bracken), catapulting him into the world of London Below. The Marquis de Carrabas (Gaby Richardson) and Hunter (Louise Gould) assist them on their journey, trying to protect them from villains Croup and Vandemar (Marcus Thomson and Ethan Thubron) but the Angel of Islington (Charles Barry) is not as angelic as he first appears to be. Richard spends the whole time trying to find a way home, but when he eventually gets there he realises he misses the London beneath the cracks.

GCSE

As part of their final GCSE grade each Fifth-Form pupil has been involved in two public performance evenings this year as well as their final written examination.

Misrepresented by Shakespeare was a clever, energetic and funny piece of Theatre in Education – written by the group themselves – following the stories of four well-known Shakespearean antagonists. It invited the audience to reassess their opinions of the characters: Caliban, Shylock and the Macbeths. The group also performed it in front of their target audience at St Olave’s.

Pool (no water) was a dynamic, atmospheric and incredibly wellperformed piece of ensemble physical theatre written by British playwright Mark Ravenhill in collaboration with Frantic Assembly. The group participated in a workshop with Frantic Assembly at Actacademy in Harrogate in October to help them develop their work. This play explored artistic jealousy, the fragility of friendship and resentment inspired by success. A famous artist invites her old friends to her luxurious new home. For one night only, the group is back together. But celebrations come to an abrupt end when the host suffers an horrific accident. George Snell was the lighting designer for this production and his work was chosen as exemplar material for the board by the AQA examiner.

For the GCSE group’s final performance of the year, pupils had to devise brand-new work, creating the ideas, characters and text themselves – and what a stunning job they did. This impressive quartet of new plays was performed in March and really displayed the talents and creativity of the group. Die Devils Hände was a contemporary remake of the fairy-tale The Girl With No Hands and Olivia Shread’s screams as her father (Henry Graham) cut her hands off on stage were truly haunting. The Price Of Life was written by Alex Gould and explored the concept that money can’t buy you happiness, and a healthy life can’t buy you longevity.

Fallen Footsteps was a mature piece which showed brother (George Snell) and sister (Bethan Bradley) surviving alone in a grim world where stories temporarily transported them to other places. The Final Waltz was the result of incredibly hard work and credit must go to Peter Gray and Rosalind Tait for their mesmerizing and emotional performances in this well-structured piece.

A-LEVEL

Dust Off The Archives

A2 Drama students are challenged with creating ‘a unique piece of theatre’ as part of the course. The group researched the concept of memory and looking for stimulus as a starting-point for devising took a trip to the Banana Warehouse in York Town Centre, where they found some old copies of The Peterite and The Olavite and concluded they needed to look no further than the school’s rich history itself for inspiration.

‘We decided that we wanted to produce a promenade performance due to the fact that we had viewed Slunglow’s Blood and Chocolate and Punchdrunk’s The Drowned Man. The vast sets and locations of both pieces inspired us to use the school’s historic grounds to allow the memories embedded in the walls to be retold.’ The audience saw three characters: Betty Toyne, John R Hollington and Lucy Gilbert. Betty Toyne was the daughter of previous Head Master, Sam Toyne (1913-1936), and a French teacher at Olave’s; she was married in the school chapel in 1934 to a former St Peter’s pupil. John R Hollington was in the school’s rugby team and was granted colours for his performance on the pitch. He was very sadly shot down over Germany in 1939, shortly after he left the school. It was poignant to see his name in the Book of Remembrance in the antechapel. Lucy Gilbert won the school’s Barry Daniel Award

and used the scholarship fund to support herself trekking for two months in Spitsbergen after her tragic experience in Norway in 1986. We decided to take the audience to the places significant to these Old Peterites: Betty’s wedding was performed in the chapel to the backdrop of the whole-school recording of I vow to thee, my country, her reception was held in the Library with a champagne toast; Lucy’s letter home in a tent pitched outside the Geography classrooms with hot chocolate, and John R Hollington’s metaphor of the rugby-game-turned-war on the rugby pitch.

Elle Illingworth (UVI)

‘Since a large portion of our audience would either be current pupils, staff or people with a connection to the school we sought to imbue within these people a deep sense of connection with the school and its history, thus granting them the impression of being part of a bigger picture.

Elliot Elstob (UVI) It was unfortunate that we had to cancel the second night’s performance due to extreme weather conditions. Although we had back-up plans for locations, it was deemed unsafe in the Met Office’s red warning even to walk around the school. When we found out that the indoor Liverpool Empire Theatre cancelled its performance of Ghost because of weather on the same night it didn’t seem so bad.

AS: On Love

The play On Love by Mick Gordon examines the multi-faceted nature of human relationships. The material of the play is collated from verbatim text collected by the writer using a Dictaphone. The cast multi-role-played to create humour such as the argument scene turned into a passionate tango, and some very touching moments – for example where a young woman tried in vain to resuscitate her boyfriend. This is a difficult play, particularly because the cast has a responsibility to tell people’s real stories, but they tackled it with the balance and tenderness required in a thoughtful, visually engaging way.

AS: A Doll’s House

A Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen caused quite a stir in its original performances and it remains challenging and provocative: what would make a mother leave her children? Our updated production of this play adapted by Simon Stephens aimed to immerse the audience in Nora’s situation by inviting them into the Helmers’ home. The audience were the proverbial ‘flies on the wall’, witnessing the marriage of Torvald Helmer (Ben Turvill) reaching the point of its destruction through the influences of Krogstad’s (Phil Hodgson) blackmailing and the intrusion of a supposed old friend, Kristine (Emma Walker). We felt slightly uncomfortable initially, almost voyeuristic, as we witnessed intimate scenes but soon became gripped by Nora’s (Anna Thrussell) predicament and though we were sympathetic to her, we were also at one with Torvald’s devastation as she left.

Miss Helen Lindley

Gold Arts Award 2013-14

This year was the second year that we have run Arts Award as a co-curricular activity. The award is endorsed by Trinity College, London and gets young people to explore and develop their own creativity through arts challenges that they set themselves.

The award is split into two units. The first unit is then divided into four sub-units:

Arts practice

Young people gain experience of a new area of the arts and produce new art work by working with more advanced practitioners.

The wider arts sector

Young people get involved in the arts world through placements, volunteering, training and research.

Research and review

Young people attend and review high-quality arts events, reflect on how they influence their work, and also find out about the artists and their career-paths.

Forming a view

Young people make the case for an arts issue that they care about, investigate the arguments around it and present their view and findings to others.

The second unit asks the young person to plan, organise and host an event that involves their leadership skills, such as organizing a charity concert, an art exhibition or a workshop, or putting on a play.

The possibilities are endless, and with 35 UCAS points at the end of the award it is certainly worthwhile. The course is undertaken by those students who wish to challenge and extend themselves, as the award requires around 150 hours of work in total!

This year the scheme was take up by Benedict Turvill (Lower Sixth) and Elle Illingworth (Upper Sixth) who joined forces to create a leadership project focusing on a play which Ben had written based on the murder of Lee Rigby in 2013. Both Ben and Elle directed the play, recruited cast members, sourced props and costumes, and budgeted and organised the final event which was the performances of Woolwich 2013.

The play was a success, managing to sell out both performances and gaining incredible feedback from everyone that came to see it.

Ben and Elle had to compile a portfolio of evidence that was then submitted to an external moderator. The feedback gained was extremely positive, and the moderator noted that both the portfolios were extremely clear and easy to read, and contained many forms of evidence of the activities undertaken.

It is also worth saying that the uptake of Arts Award for 2014-15 is looking extremely healthy and with the ideas that are already being created it should be an exciting year for Arts Award yet again!

Woolwich 2013

Woolwich 2013 is an insightful and brave text which is entirely open to interpretation, made even more brilliant by the fact that it is written by our very own Shakespeare: Benedict Turvill. I was given the mammoth task of taking this breathtaking new piece of theatre from ‘page to stage’. I decided to produce a fully student-run play from the lighting to marketing, all in aid of Help for Heroes. Although Woolwich 2013 is a small ensemble play, the characters within the story are unique and powerful in their creation. The context of the play itself was challenging, especially finding the right balance between ‘artistic’ and ‘appropriate’. In the play there are no specific links between the characters, as they seem to all be part of the muse’s imagination. This is represented by the clean, white space you are presented with, and when the actors enter the space they are in role; out of it they are neutral. The audience was thrown into the revelry of the party but, lurking beneath the surface, lay a much more sinister message. Perhaps the greatest obstacle to overcome was that this was an entirely fresh script, so we were not able to hide behind the work of previous performances – it is wholly our play. This has also come with its advantages as I feel that I was able to put my own spin on what is a wisely written piece of theatre; and Ben Turvill deserves all the credit for a mesmeric piece of work. I was inspired by Punchdrunk Theatre Company and Slung Low, whose individual style I tried to weave into the performance. The feedback exceeded our expectations and all we were all very proud of what we had achieved, and as the director I was so pleased that all the months of hard work had paid off! The production was an absolute delight to work on, and the cast were amazing to work with.

Thanks must also go to the wonderful Sara Burns, Helen Lindley, Maggie Smales and Helen Heaton for all their support. Woolwich 2013 truly was the perfect way to end my time here at St Peter’s and I am grateful to everyone who came to support us, or who even just bought a cake at our fundraisers, which helped us raise over £350.

Elle Illingworth (UVI), Director

Design & Technology Awards 2014

Design Innovation Award: Alexandra Budarina

Alexandra’s passion for painting gave her the idea to create an art case for carrying wet paintings from locations back to her studio. The complex design for the shell of the case was realised by laying-up carbon fibre onto a mould. This was a difficult and experimental process, but one which showed the innovative approach that Alexandra has towards product design.

Minster Engineering Award for Quality of Design and Manufacture: Hannah Whitehouse

Hannah’s design, made from cherry wood, focuses on the use of simple lines and shapes. The top surface has a structure and pattern to add interest, without detracting from the beautiful simplicity of the design. The table can be disassembled easily by adjusting four knock-down fittings, with the design packing flat into three pieces.

Design Commendation & the Dawson Award for Outstanding Achievement in Design & Technology: Brogan Grant

Brogan sat down with a group of young mothers, to find out what needs they and their babies had, and they discussed the idea of more contemporary designs being available for products. Brogan used a blend of coloured acrylic sheet and veneered plywood (formed around a foam mould) to give a traditional Moses basket a more modern stylish look.

Design Commendation: Harley Shaw

Harley identified a problem gardeners have in transporting their garden tools from the shed or garage to the garden. Where a number of tools is required, it is often difficult to carry them safely, and more than a few at a time. Harley created a trolley which holds a variety of tools, both large and small. It is easy to manoeuvre, and very stable.

Sixth form Design & Technology Prize for 2014: Emma Stephenson

Emma chose a project working closely with Clifton School, designing and making a teacher’s storytime chair and pupils’ bench for use outdoors. Emma produced a prototype made from treated spruce and assembled with knockdown fittings. Working with a client gave the project more focus and made it more real.

Mr Jon Whitehouse

Music

Autumn Concert

The Brass Ensemble gave us a rousing start to the first major concert of the year with a Prelude by Charpentier. The Chamber and Chapel Choirs were in fine form, singing both secular and sacred pieces, including the Victorian part-song He that hath a pleasant face by John Hatton and the Magnificat in D by Charles Wood.

There were two lovely solos from mezzo-sopranos Elle Illingworth and Sarah Carlton, and high-quality chamber playing from the Senior String Quartet, Clarinet Choir and Guitar Group with highlights including The Entertainer arranged for three guitars and a Church Sonata for Bombardes played on five Bass Clarinets!

The concert finished with two famous film scores arranged for Wind Band, played with great verve by the 45 players involved.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Visit of the National Youth Jazz Orchestra, Thursday 14 November

We were delighted to welcome the National Youth Jazz Orchestra from London for a workshop and concert day in November. Our Swing Band greatly enjoyed working with director Mark Armstrong for an hour, and they then had the opportunity to get in amongst the NYJO players for a full-tilt rendition of Love for Sale, which provided a memorable ending to the session for the pupils.

The orchestra then entertained a packed Memorial Hall later in the evening with two polished sets of big-band playing including great standards such as Caravan and That Old Black Magic, as well as a fantastic jazz arrangement by legendary trombonist Mark Nightingale of The Flight of the Bumble Bee with a solo trombone feature that will live long in the memory.

It was a fantastic day and a fitting opening for the newlyrefurbished Memorial Hall as it becomes established as a major musical venue in the city.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Evensong in York Minster, Monday 18 November

The Chapel Choir sang an Evensong service in the Quire of York Minster in November. Starting with Humphrey Clucas’ fanfaric set of Responses, the choir maintained a high level of energy and commitment throughout with encouraging singing in Wood’s Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in D. The highlight of the service, though, was the large-scale anthem Blessed be the God and Father by Samuel Sebastian Wesley. This famous piece has echoes of Mendelssohn and Haydn with a substantial solo Soprano section in the middle, beautifully performed by Sally Hicks.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Christmas Concerts

The Christmas Concerts were great fun this year, with the evenings being warmly enjoyed by an audience of around 500 over the two nights. There was a very varied programme, ranging from both Junior and Senior String Quartet, String Orchestra, Wind Band, Chamber Choir and School Choir to Swing Band, Little Big Band, Percussion Group and both Girls’ and Boys’ Barbershop groups. The festive theme was present throughout with classical items intermingling with jazz and even a Ska item from the Percussion Group to complement their rendition of Ding, Dong Merrily on High arranged in 7 beats in a bar!

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Carol Service

We were once again fortunate to be back in the beautiful surroundings of York Minster for our annual Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols. The Brass Ensemble played a rousing fanfare by Walton at the entry of the Civic Party. Isabella Crook (Third Form) then provided a lovely start to the service with the traditional solo verse of Once in Royal David’s City leading into the opening procession. The

choirs and Brass Ensemble supported some strong singing from the congregation throughout the service, and highlights from the individual choir items were the Chamber Choir’s performance of

Here is the Little Door by Herbert Howells, the Chapel Choir’s I Saw Three Ships arranged by Richard Lloyd and the School Choir’s Sussex Carol arranged by David Willcocks.

The lessons and prayers were read by pupils, members of the academic and support staff, the Headmaster and a Governor, and the service was led by Canon Christopher Collingwood and our Chaplain, The Reverend Daniel Jones.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Senior Music Festival

This was a highly enjoyable evening of music-making with strong solo performances in all categories. The adjudicator this year was Anthony Kraus, Assistant Director of Music at Opera North, who provided knowledgeable and constructive feedback on each performance. The winners of the categories were as follows:

Percussion: Alistair Duffey (Xylophone) Woodwind: Samuel Philpott (Bass Clarinet) Girls’ Singing: Rosalind Tait Brass: Charlie Widdicombe (Trumpet) Guitar: Joshua Ramalingham Strings: Max McLeish (Cello) Boys’ Singing: Jack McCartney Piano: Jessica Szeto

Jessica Szeto was selected as the winner of this year’s Senior Music Festival prize for the best performance of the evening.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Junior Music Festival

We heard over 100 performances in the week before half-term this year and selected 25 of those to go forward to the final, which was ably adjudicated by Anthony Kraus, Assistant Head of Music at Opera North.

All the pupils in the final played with fluency, and there was a real sense of enjoyment and camaraderie amongst them, which created a lovely atmosphere for the event.

The winners of the individual categories were as follows:

Strings: Felicity Edwards (Harp), with Helen Ford (Viola) highly commended

Girls’ Singing: Gaby Richardson, with Fleur Booth and Isabella Crook highly commended Brass: Jack Hargrave (Trombone) Guitar and Vocals: Emily McDonald Woodwind: Jack Hargrave (Clarinet) Piano: Felicity Edwards Boys’ Singing: Sam Lightwing

The overall winner was Felicity Edwards (pictured, below left) for a beautifully poised performance on the piano of Danza de la Moza Donosa by Ginastera.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Evensong in Beverley Minster, Monday 3 March

The Chapel Choir travelled to the beautiful Gothic Minster in Beverley to sing evensong early in March. Singing in a small choir area with a fairly unforgiving acoustic, the choir produced some lovely sounds, accompanied on the organ in colourful and dramatic style by the Minster’s Director of Music, Robert Poyser.

The canticles by Stanford and anthems by Wood provided a good opportunity for some full and warm singing and this was much appreciated by the congregation. My thanks go to all the pupils and staff involved, especially to Mr Wright for his expert direction of the service.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Choral and Orchestral Concert, York Minster, Thursday 27 March

Our Wind Band, String Orchestra and School Choir had the great privilege of giving our main orchestral and choral concert of the academic year in the majestic surroundings of York Minster.

The Wind Band began with three movements from Elgar’s Wand of Youth Orchestral Suite No 1, with the brass producing some polished, full sounds for the declamatory sections which contrasted well with some expressive softer, phrased lines in the woodwind in the lyrical passages.

The String Orchestra then supported a truly outstanding solo performance from violinist Ivan Cheng in Bruch’s Violin Concerto No 1 directed by Keith Wright. Performing from memory, Ivan reached a professional level with some exquisite playing and was rewarded by four ovations, the last one quite rightly a standing ovation.

To complete the evening a choir of over 200 singers, formed from the School Choirs of both St Peter’s and St Olave’s and our Choral Society of parents, staff, governors and friends, joined together to perform Howard Goodall’s Eternal Light, a new setting of the Latin Requiem text juxtaposed with selected poems in English. The flowing melodic lines were projected well by both the choir and soloists Wendy Goodson (Soprano), Paul Gameson (Tenor) and Matt Dowdy (Baritone) in a performance that was warmly received by the audience of around 500 present for the concert.

It was a memorable and very enjoyable evening and my thanks to all who participated.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Cabaret Concerts

It was a fun show this year with a fantastic atmosphere in the Memorial Hall, which was packed for both nights. The Barbieshop were on very fine form, with a mashup from Pitch Perfect being a highlight. The ensemble playing was both varied and enjoyable with the Clarinet Choir playing a pair of tangos, the Little Big Band playing funk, the Percussion Group a song by Madness and the Senior String Quartet an arrangement by Ivan Cheng (The Manor, UVI) of Pirates of the Caribbean!

The Chamber Choir and School Choir both performed with energy and style. The Barbershop made a particularly strong impact this year, singing a set of three pieces arranged by the boys. This closed with an arrangement by Charlie Widdicombe of What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction that required a lot of hair gel!

The soloists from the Upper Sixth all excelled themselves with instrumental solos ranging from Sam Philpott playing Body and Soul on the Bass Clarinet, to James Contreras and Alex Shaw engaging in a improvisatory duel with the classic bebop tune Tenor Madness by Sonny Rollins, and Josh Stanford playing Henry Mancini’s The Pink Panther. We also had seven vocal numbers starting with a beautifully atmospheric performance of Elton John’s Your Song by Laura Nichols, accompanied by Ivan Cheng on the piano. We were then treated to Abba from Josie Proctor and Georgie Harrison and some smooth swing with Sarah Carlton singing At Last and Georgie Ward Georgia on my mind. There was a significant change of pace in the middle of the show with Siân Bigger singing Fever with great character, and Ellie Martin really getting the audience going with Somebody to love by Freddie Mercury in an arrangement originally created for The X Factor’s Big Band Night. Closing the evening was a sparkling performance by

Elle Illingworth, who sang the Toy Story favourite You Got a Friend in Me.

My thanks go to all involved, and especially to the Swing Band who provided the foundation for both evenings. They played with great skill and precision throughout, both in accompanying the soloists and in their own numbers.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

External Music Examinations

The pupils have again enjoyed considerable success in their instrumental and singing examinations this academic year. We congratulate the following pupils on their achievements in passing the highest grade (Grade 8) offered by the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music and Trinity College.

Henry Wong Sebastian Dobson Piano

Clarinet (Merit) Luke Dunsmore Piano (Merit) Edmund Meredith Clark Cello (Merit) Laura Nichols Singing (Merit) Emma Richardson Clarinet (Merit)

Joss Town

Recorder (Merit) Georgina Ward Singing (Merit) Charlie Widdicombe Singing (Merit) Libby Brown Clarinet (Distinction) Robbie Brown Piano (Distinction) Sarah Carlton Singing (Distinction)

Ivan Cheng Piano (Distinction)

Ivan Cheng Alistair Duffey Sally Hicks

Singing (Distinction) Percussion (Distinction) Singing (Distinction) Elle Illingworth Singing (Distinction) Sam Lightwing Saxophone (Distinction) Max McLeish Piano (Distinction) Josh Stanford Saxophone (Distinction) Charlie Widdicombe Trumpet (Distinction)

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Commemoration

We were once again privileged to be back in the Minster for our annual Commemoration Service on the last Friday of the summer term. The Brass Ensemble played a rousing fanfare by Elgar Howarth at the arrival of the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress of York, and the Sheriff and Sheriff’s Lady. The Chamber Choir’s Introit, Locus Iste by Anton Bruckner, provided a lovely still atmosphere before the first hymn. The School Choir sang warmly throughout in their Jubilate in C by Stanford and in supporting the congregation in the hymns. The Chapel Choir’s anthem, O Thou the Central Orb, by Charles Wood, was also a highlight, with wellcontrasted dynamic range and an exciting finish.

At the heart of the service was a powerful and thought-provoking address from Dr Sam Wells, vicar of St Martin-in-the-Fields in London. This was based around the story of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas by John Boyne, which Dr Wells used to illustrate the importance of friendship and future relationships for the students who were leaving the school. There were also readings from a number of students, and prayers read by leaving staff.

Mr Paul Miles-Kingston

Creative Writing: snapshots

The year begins with a glut of wonderful writing. Rested and with active minds, we’re not trammelled by exams yet. We kick off with National Poetry Day at the beginning of October and the theme is ‘Water, Water, Everywhere’ – a nod to Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. We embrace this wholeheartedly and using Gustav Dore’s woodcut illustrations, the Third Form write their own poetry, based on one of the most dramatic parts of the poem.

Water, Water Everywhere…

The barren ship, wandered the abandoned ocean.

Lifeless bodies sprawled over the scorched ship.

My shrivelled brain rattled in my nutshell of a brain.

The malodorous baked albatross weighted me to the floor as if it was bolted down.

Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to spare.

The emerald water luring me in, the poison everywhere.

Emily McDonald

Water, Water Everywhere

The beastly ship roared through the hellish sea, with a struggle.

The Mariner’s eyes shimmered off the glittering sea; killing the albatross felt like a mistake!

He felt like tyranny was setting in, and a blast of bad luck blew his way.

He could see death in his boat floating past. Martha Horner

The Mariner

The sun’s rim dipped, over the painted ocean while the star dogged moon shining white, surfaced.

The glittering eye shone like an emerald, while his soul rotted as the men on the ship.

As the ship sunk into the hellish ocean, Water, water everywhere.

Angus Wilson

From Third Form poetry we move to the Sixth Form’s study of narrative. Working on the basis that stories are to be found in everything, the Lower Sixth worked on creating narrative strands from art and photography. They were encouraged to explore light and shade, perspective, focus and the symbolism of colour. The responses were all unique – and in some cases, quite unexpected.

Charlie Smith

Water, Water Everywhere

Death stormed through the ocean Split the withering heat For eyes of woe did close. The water pawed at the boat and I was left alone in the sea of death. I shot the albatross brought plague of cursed water, glimmering, Fire sky and copper sun.

The Woman in White

The curtains drew, the beaming light drowned the stage and the woman in white froze. Her dead eyes drifted beyond the stage light, as if she saw nothing but darkness. Her frail body crept further and further into itself, leaving nothing but an empty shell. She stood paralysed with pain. The beautiful shell inhaled slowly, her lungs fixed by the white silk corset that lay so structured against her frail bones. Thin pieces of string pulled so tight against her back that she slowly and tenderly began to bleed. All colours had been sucked from her gentle lips; her face fell emotionless, drowned with emptiness. The weight of the magnificent white-netted headpiece led every inch of muscle to ache through her neck towards her bony spine. The empty shell looked towards the audience; hundreds of faces looked back in amazement at the sight of the beauty in white that stood before them, Yet she felt nothing but an ache from within. To her it was the same audience that had been stood before her all along, the audience that constantly scrutinised and watched her every move. In her eyes the dance had become worthless. Every inch of joy and celebration that the dance represented had been twisted

into a life of pain. Her feet throbbed from the agonising pain, her stomach numb from the intense hunger. She looked at the audience one last time before she knew she had to continue. As the woman in white knew, there was no escape from the dance.

Lucy Wooton

The Wave

She stared, straining to look further into the distance, imagining what lay beyond. Its power excited her. The constant push and pull as the water stretched closer in, only to be dragged back, folding in on itself. She imagined the white horses, the phrase so commonly used though she never particularly liked it. It seemed too graceful for the sea and lessened its danger, the danger she liked. She thought of the depths of the ocean, calm in comparison to the tempestuous exterior. She was like the wave, in a way. Inside she was serene and composed, or that was how she wished she could be. It was her outside, her actions, her anger that caused problems, this problem. She was more powerful than she realised and in the past that may have frightened her. Many things did. A memory stirred. The pull of the tide, her own cry, the taste of the salt water in her mouth before strong arms lifted her clear out of the water and she was safe. She pushed the thought away; she was losing her concentration. She couldn’t do that. She’d made it this far. Noting the name of the artist, she stepped away from the painting and looked once around the room. Only one man caught her attention. He stood in the corner, wearing a long black coat like the ones in the detective films she used to watch with her father.

It had been a while since she’d thought about her father. She wondered what he would think if he were still here. Would he be disappointed? Angry? Would he even care?

Once again she reminded herself to stop daydreaming. She wasn’t allowed any mistakes. The man glanced at her every so often, just out of the corner of his eye, but obvious enough for her to notice. Testing him, she took a few steps towards to door and stopped at another painting. As if to mirror her actions he did the same, never once taking his eyes off her. In her mind she thought of how many ways she could escape. Of course, she could just walk out the door with all the other visitors but he was big and could probably catch her up before that. She couldn’t run because that would cause a scene and she would definitely be caught. It wasn’t an option. From where she was standing she could see a small door to the side of the staircase through which a cleaner came carrying a black bag. She waited until the man glanced at the painting for a second, distracted by its colour, and slipped out.

Jess Hart

The Thames below Westminster

He rose like a mountain through the mist. A towering colossus that parted the clouds, He cut a figure of inconceivable magnitude as the dawn sun strained to break through the haze which was drawn to Him as a moth to a flame. Yet despite the early morning mist which attempted to obscure His view, He observed all that transpired beneath Him, watching over every lost spirit, every inhabitant, that wandered the cobbled streets of His sprawling city.

He was their God; an omnipotent and inexorable being that inspired awe and demanded respect from all. Men, women and children, with jaws agape, craned their necks in vain as they tried to catch a glimpse of His many faces which extended to each of the four corners of the globe. At His bidding, the stillness of every morning was broken by a cacophony of sound as the great steel hives, like fishermen indulging themselves on the banks of England’s plentiful rivers, relentlessly reeled their workers in and slowly stole the life from each poor, unfortunate soul trapped between their high walls and hellish infernos.

However, it was mornings such as these when He felt most content. The veil that was draped across His city during the night was beginning to fade away, caressing the chimneys and spires which punctuated the city’s skyline as it lifted; a parting kiss until they met again. The droplets which permeated the breathless air transferred to Him with ease the unremitting sound of water striking stone, nature striking man, as the Thames maintained its habitual beat. The riverboats, just beginning their voyage to the coast to collect their precious cargo, created an image of unadulterated beauty; their motion downstream produced ripples which reverberated out across the wide expanse of water in the manner of a stone which has been dropped into a pond and in so doing removed the water’s mask of tranquillity. And a man, standing amongst his colleagues on a jetty just off the Embankment, looked up to Him with a pained expression on his face, begging Him to do his job quicker so that he might return to the hovel that he called “home”. And so, it was, while looking out across the landscape which He both presided over and which, at this time, brought Him such great joy, that He made history and defied the words of St Marher when He stopped for one, brief second.

Toby Latham

The Woman in the Red Dress

To simply acknowledge the tilt of his head and his furrowed brow was not enough. You had to search his entire face for clues: the way the tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his frowning mouth; the way his nostrils flared that little bit more when he breathed; the way he thoughtlessly swept wisps of hair out of his eyes; and the brightness which shone from his eyes, despite their black colouring.

I watched him from my corner - his right hand moving over his selection of paintbrushes, choosing each one with precision, his left hand resting on his hip. With each brushstroke he made, his creation gained more and more life. Every so often, he would stop and perch his brush precariously behind his ear, allowing him to stand back to admire his masterpiece. Even from behind, I could sense the electricity during those moments. His work was nearing completion and both he and she knew what would follow.

‘Please Madam, straighten your back and lift your head up high. Yes, perfect.’

His clear, resounding voice broke through the silence, causing my attention to be diverted to the woman. I’d stared at her many times before – she had been sat in the same position, in the same room, with the same expression for five months, but each day she looked a little different. It wasn’t her fixed pout or her still arms that changed; it was her eyes. Each day her eyes seemed to open up a bit more to the world, sparkling with her increasing knowledge. Knowledge only he could give her.

It had been going on for months and no one but myself suspected. The day she first walked into the room she had held her head up high and left her husband to do the talking, sitting silently, radiating self-importance. I think the attraction came from her original indifference. His charming and charismatic nature drew women to him, but he used them as a distraction, fascinating and tempting them. Yet his mannerisms were wasted on her; she answered him bluntly only when necessary and avoided making contact with his roaming eyes.

But on the third week, she entered his studio with her hair draped across the left side of her face and settled herself into position. He initially tried to demand that she tucked the offending hair behind her ear, as she had in previous weeks.

‘I’m sorry Madam, but I must insist that you maintain the original hairstyle.’

‘I’ve changed my mind. I would like it like this now, please.’

‘Madam, I cannot change the painting. If you refuse to change your hair, I will have to tell your husband the painting cannot be completed.’

The look of mortification ad horror in her eyes is one I will never forget.

‘No, don’t do that. I will change it, if I must.’

I remember the painstakingly slow movement of her hand pushing the hair behind her ear to reveal the left hand side of her face. Spread across her eye and cheek was a large mark, in grotesque shades of blue and purple. Her cheeks blushed in embarrassment as I gasped, but he just nodded.

‘You may let your hair down again.’

‘But…the painting?’

‘It doesn’t matter. Leave it to me.’

From that day on she began to accept his behaviour more and more. I don’t know exactly when it began, but signs soon became clear that only I could recognise.

Her wonderful laugh resonates through the halls of his house, their conversation is seemingly endless, their lingering goodbyes fill his hall. He experiences a side to her that her husband never will.

Izzy Hall

The Girl

The girl is here again. Her face framed by an arched brow, quizzical in its composition. The intensity of her rigid neck, strained and fragile under the burden of her head struggles with the unfeasible angle. A feeble front incongruous to a hunched back, everything seems ill fitting. Her pale skin, taut on the bone magnifies her dainty, yet queer, disposition. The hasty snap of the head to accompany her eyes on their mission for knowledge, once again, left her ungainly in her confusion. The only light, sourced from a small window, left her in the company of the darkness. She heard it first – tired eyes don’t see all too well. A once-unencumbered youth now engulfed in enigma – where is the noise? Drained, she turns away. As she relaxes, her clothes return to hanging loosely off her skeleton; a lingering amalgam of sweat and tears lubricate the once silken fabric. The smell is redundant; only the noise exists. She reflects on the consistency of the noise: always in the top left of her peripheral vision. She appreciates this one grace afforded to her – her first and seemingly last clue. Her slightly rouged cheeks emphasise the sickly pallor of her being, grey and blue skin, cathartically cold against her raging mind. Ironically, her red hair – the only thing dead on her – appears the most alive. These wisps of escaped hair tickle the crook of her neck, an effeminate annoyance. The noise tests her will and concentration once more. The delicate slant of her indelicate lips encompasses both hope and belittling exasperation; they act as her only emotional outlet. Her emotions are reduced to that of confusion and unrest. The noise becomes the subject of her days and her isolation now becomes her resolution. Evidence of her addiction resides within; she is made ill by this noise. The window to the soul glazes over, seeing life through a greyed filter. Despite being a woman of greater stature than some, she still is no closer to reaching the noise. The sullen walls encroaching on her give nothing away. Their centimetre thick, uniformed 4 by 4 structure marks only her own enslavement but nothing or no one else’s. Fatigued, she settles once more, satisfied it will rest with her. She lies facing the top left of the room, balancing her head between her forearm and shoulder. The poignant bone digs into the already hollow temple. She makes a mental note: bring pillow next time.

Alicia Cranston

The Creative Writing Competition, run in the summer term, this year featured an array of writing which was diverse in style and form, was self-generated, composed and edited and ultimately saw Concetta Scrimshaw and Ben Turvill as winners, both choosing to experiment with poetic forms. Below are their entries.

Love Song

It’s deathly quiet in here save for the sharp crack of my footsteps. You’re in the middle of the room, glorious in mahogany, you’re that warm feeling I get when everything is just divine. Your lid is down. Not to worry, I’ll lift it up. It’s rather slow Better not make a sound anyway

Eighty-five perfect keys, black on white. Gleaming. (But you were always into aesthetics. Always wanted to look your very best). Your strings glint in the sun flooding through a single slat of the blinds and dust particles glitter in the light, a ray of them, drifting. They’re beautiful. Just like you

Oh, the rapture that fills the room like Elysium. Each spotless note, cascading on top of one another and spiralling on that sublime wave that flows faultlessly from bottom to top. The bass, a deep swell, rolling and crashing, sweeping away the delicate melody in a sparkling undulation. The world around myself has disappeared. It’s just you and me

A looping surge that collapses into a shimmering ripple, a heaving crest that splinters into a thunderous arch of harmony; sorrow, as both perish into ebbing consonance. The room vibrates with the last few echoes of your enchanting sonority. And now you’re silent. Oh, how I long for you to sing again

But all good things must come to an end. I step away from you, the sound of my footstep fracturing the tenuous lull. The silence is harsh, coarse and bitter. I take one last look at you, pure, perfect, and whole, the secrets within you fading in the air, transient and ephemeral.

Concetta Scrimshaw

The Cry of the Anglo-Irish

after W B Yeats

I am a culmination: two parts united to the whole. I am the image and its opposite. I see myself in a mirror of glass, a mirror cast of broken sands, a mirror then of divided lands, divided by a raging heart and here the conception of an art: a division of a raging sea.

There is a bird that will fly a divide, fly above a charred earth. And if it flies above the earth, it will fly that rabid sea and be a bridge that nature gives to bind us, though we destroy. O guards who piqued that nation’s shore, do not destroy the birds that fly. Do not with crude, cold hand pluck beauty from the sky.

It lands in an ancestral house, an ancestral house in civil war and that bird meets with another bird and birds will carry the message on. We hide not amidst the dawn. We shall not be blasphemy’s pawn. We fear not, there is no shroud between us but bed sheets and I am born.

I shall make a boat of trees I fell with scratching nib, and land through my same scratched-out dreams. I shall find courage in a fabled man like me, who gives me fire to warm and light the way, to cook the fish the birds will drop for me. And I shall find my ancestral house, a house that is a tower, a tower, set as equals with those streets free from a blood that runs deep in me.

Ben Turvill

The Log Pile

So shall we stack the log pile now, oh brother, you and I? See we have rolled back the rock that guards the opening: we have opened and unleashed whatever may be found there. The sun burns against the lavender ends but winter’s chill is in the clouds and spiders scramble in the dark. So on you go to where I -

Then see you suddenly diving, scuttling down amidst the dark, amidst the dank and up to light proud and slinging now the log down with a hellish stampede of clank for transportation to our door and there unload, let rip, let fall the piling cascade and here the clang, clunk, drop the ever fall. I pick up the pieces still.

And so I stack the logs against the porch’s side and mesh the cuts to one great wall of logs - a second curtain wall against the siege of winter. But I know another barrier that will forever withstand any rage of nature, emotion; cold or pain and here I prove it: now and now and now and then - as I walked back to you. For then we heaved the warped door to, oh brother, and rolled the rock to block that tomb again.

Ben Turvill