Memory Page Turning

Keith!!!! Keith!!! Keith!!! I hear across the street one Summer evening. Looking over the road I see Wendy with whom I had done a scratch orchestral tour of the Côte d’Azur a few years earlier.

I cross the road to confront a a slightly distraught Wendy.

“Would you mind page turning for me . . . Please?”

“OK. when?”, I reply.

“Now!”, says Wendy as she drags me into the stage door of the Wigmore Hall.

With only the slightest pause, we make our way on to the stage of the Wigmore Hall. Imagine my amazement when I see an audience almost filling the hall!! I make myself as invisible as possible as we set off through a sonata whose piano part looks like wallpaper. Somehow Wendy nods me through each page turn and the performance seems to be successful judging by the applause at the end and the subsequent encores.

The only event I remember about that Côte d’Azur tour – if “remembering” is the correct word! – is the reception given to the orchestra by the Mayor of Nice. H seemed very keen to get us to drink as much champagne as possible and then produced orange juice plus other additives to encourage us to drink even more. Inevitably everybody became drunk and we had a problem – how to sober up.

In my travels, I had often used the Nice USO as a place to have a free afternoon snack and coffee. Strangely, the people running it included a number of very elegant English ladies who spoke French with a very ‘English’ accent.

“I know somewhere we can sober up!”, I announced to the orchestra.

It must have been a strange vision to onlookers as a whole orchestra wended its way to the USO. The nice ladies assessed the situation correctly and produced mugs of coffee for us all to drink, almost saving the evening concert. I don’t remember much about the concert except that we ditched the Mendelssohn Violin Concert for the Telemann Concerto performed by a rugby-playing viola  man who could consume vast quantities of alcohol with no apparent ill effects, unlike the rest of us.

Ah, back to page turning!

I suppose the first requirement of a page turner is the ability to read music. This is only really necessary because you need to know when to nonchalantly rise and lean forward to turn the page. As the pianist approaches the end of the page of music you receive a deep nod and the page must then be turned. You do not usually have to wait until the end of the page. There’s something a little creepy about a person hiding next to a pianist and only emerging every now and then to turn the page. There’s even an excellent film called “The Page Turner . . . . . .

Here you can see Martha Argerich using a page turner . . . .

All in all, the presence of a page turner on the stage is a necessary evil which visually distracts us from the music. I have always tried my best to avoid being a page turner.

However I remember one ocassion when I had booked a seat on the front row of one of the few concert halls where I can stretch my feet out. It was a programme of violin sonatas.

The two performers walked on to the stage, bowed to acknowledge applause, said a few words to each other, then , to the astonishment of the audience, mysteriously walked off the stage. Shortly after this, the Stage Manager appeared and approached me.

“The performers would like to speak with you”, he whispered.

I followed him backstage where I was asked whether I would turn pages for the pianist. I reluctantly agreed and we all trooped back on to the stage and did the concert.

But I really lucked out with this duo. Many musicians are excellent gourmet cooks and these two were no exception. They insisted that I come back to their apartment where they cooked me an amazing meal! So page turning can sometimes be a rewarding experience!!