John Roberts-James - My Musical Path
My first musical recollection is at about the age of five or so finding a plastic ‘recorder’ in a cornflakes packet. It was blue, it was more basic than basic, it had ‘holes’ for the fingers – and it made a relatively musical ‘noise’. I was away on the Path!
Some years later – when I could bravely climb a ladder – I discovered “Uncle Willie’s Mandolin” in the attic.
“DON’T TOUCH IT – YOU’LL BREAK IT!”
I would sneak up in the attic and pluck away, marvelling at ‘having’ a real musical instrument. I didn’t realise at the time that the Mandolin had the same string tuning as the Violin … That would come later.
We had a piano in the parlour, my grandmother’s. But I was absolutely forbidden to touch it (Sad!). She would sit at it, oblivious to the world, foot firmly jammed down on the sustain (loud!) pedal, belting out Victorian popular tunes FORTISSIMO. Her foot never came off that pedal. She made one hell of a noise!
 But I’m sure my (and my children’s) musical abilities come down directly through her genetic line.
At about the age of fourteen I became ‘aware’ of the Violin – and Tom Jenkins’ virtuoso solos with his Palm Court Orchestra: the PEAK of my musical experience. I lived from one Sunday evening to the next. Hejre Kati, Zapateado, Zephyr – Marvellous!
The Bug had bitten me!
 Desperately I saved up my meagre pocket money, and when I had amassed £7 I bought my first mail order Violin. It arrived, and with visions of Paganini and Kreisler flooding my mind, I put the bow to the strings – SCREECH! The most horrible scratching whistle! I could almost hear the stone slabs creaking as Paganini and Kreisler turned in their graves!
Despair! Despair! Despair!
I thrust the brand new innocent Violin under the bed and collapsed in tears for a fortnight.
You see, no one had told me that one had to apply rosin to the bow for it to grip the strings!
 Came age seventeen, and no funds to send me to University, I had a problem: what job to train for? In the wilds of West Wales there weren’t any obvious possibilities. Until I read an advert in the Musical Times:
‘The Alamein Band of the Royal Tank Regiment has vacancies for keen string players’.
There, my Salvation!
I applied, and was accepted. I was set on a Musical Career!
 On arriving in Winter at Catterick Camp in Yorkshire, I had to go through Basic Training before joining the Band. My hobby was Judo. Indeed I was quite good at it. We ‘nignogs’ (rookies) – were in three Nissen huts. The lads in the top hut sent a message to me saying that the ‘professional wrestler’ in the other hut had challenged me to a contest. And they sent the same message to the wrestler that the ‘Judo expert’ had challenged HIM to a contest!
In truth we were both scared to death of each other!
 The great day came, and we met to ‘fight to the death’. In the course of the ensuing melee I managed to get a good chokehold on him, whereupon he (fortunately for me) collapsed with a severe asthma attack. Leaving me the undisputed victor standing over a gasping breathless strangled victim.
So I became the ‘Judo Expert’!
On finally joining the Alamein Band, I had to take up a military band instrument, and was offered the choice of Oboe, Flute or Clarinet – long black ‘things’. I chose the oboe, and was all set on a musical career. [Three years later when at the Royal Military School of Music, Kneller Hall, I had the opportunity of receiving psychoanalysis to try to help my stammering. The Harley Street psychoanalyst asked me what instrument I played. When I replied “the Oboe”, “Ah,” he said “a PENIS SYMBOL”!!!]
 At that point I lost faith with psychoanalysis! I was really a Violinist, and had no choice as to my band instrument – Long or Black or whatever!
I had a marvellous time at Kneller Hall, mixing with a group of keen bright players, and came on in leaps and bounds. Quite apart from my Oboe studies, my routine household administrative duties consisted of being in charge of the Museum, full of drums, bugles and Serpents. But no snakes of course.
This was in 1953, and on Prize Day I was fortunate to find myself Cassell’s Prize Winner, awarded to the best musician of the year.
At this time I was given a fine Viola, which I still have, and play, all these years later.
  A military musician has to be versatile in many fields, and I also doubled on several instruments, including the Saxophone, Violin and String Bass. This gave one a very good all-round working experience.
The Band had a guitar on its inventory, and I took it up for dance band work. As the original case had fallen to pieces, I had the Band funds pay £4 for a new one. Being a stock instrument, anyone could sign it out and use it, but the problem was that if a string broke, it might not be usable when I needed it for a gig. So I went to the Director of Music, Major Peter Parkes, and asked if I could buy the guitar outright, to have it under my personal care. He agreed, and the Band sold it to me for £4 (actually the cost of that brand new case). I have the guitar besides me as I write, sixty year later. It is a Gibson, and was already on the Band’s inventory when I joined in 1950. It predates the official Gibson handbook and has the fastest fingerboard I have ever used.
About this time the grapevine told us that the band was about buy a brand new bassoon. Jim Forbes (Tenor Sax and also a Judo Black Belt) and I were practising when we heard that the new bassoon had just arrived. Jim and I looked at each other and – in the instant we dashed out and raced up the corridor to Parkes’ office. Jim was handicapped by the size of his tenor sax, and I just managed to pip him and knock the office door first: “Come in”.
“I understand the new bassoon has arrived, Sir” I said, “May I try it out please?”
 I took it to my room, and spent the first part of the morning learning the (basic) fingering. After break I took it into the washroom, a large echo-sounding place directly opposite the Director’s office. Up and down, in and out, loud and soft, single- double- and triple-tonguing: the lot! I really went to town! After this fifteen minutes of truly spectacular virtuosity I tapped on The Door. There was the Boss: mouth open, eyes popping out, absolutely dazzled by the display of his brand new bassoon. “Can I go on to the bassoon, Sir?” I asked. “And I’ll also double on the oboe solos of course”.
So Parkes got his new bassoon, and kept his oboe player as well. Great Fun!
We were in Germany, and the local plumber had a lucrative business going, buying instruments in East Germany and selling them to British bands in the West. I bought my splendid Markardi oboe through him, far superior to my original Boosey model. My playing was transformed.
I had developed an interest in the Recorder, but just couldn’t make any satisfactory progress It just wouldn’t ‘work’. Not until I bought a new model, and realised that my first one had been a very inferior instrument. Again my playing was transformed. Stressing the need to give even beginners a top class quality instrument when they first start. But it wasn’t till many years later that I bought my ‘Stradivarius’ - the Von Heune Recorder from the Early Music Shop in Bradford - that I found The One! Truly superb.
I took my Associate Diploma on the Oboe in 1962, and the same diploma on the Recorder in 1989.
The BIG problem with Army Staff Bands is the lack of promotion. We were all ‘lifers’, in for a thousand years and more. I had already served fifteen years, and despite being fully qualified, married with a family, there was no chance whatsoever of immediate promotion. I was registered to return to Kneller Hall for training as a bandmaster, but that was not for the immediate future.
At this time the Army brought out the new X-Trade classification for Musicians. I and my colleague Albert Meek were the very first two candidates to take the examination. We sat it, did well, but were amazed when the Examiner told us: “You both did very well, but – in order to prepare you for future setbacks – I’m failing you!” And he did! Money! Promotion! Prestige!
I took the examination a second time a month later. One section involved conducting a Church Service. In the middle of a Hymn, the Examiner (a different one) suddenly jumped up and shouted “Stop! You’ve failed! You weren’t singing the words on the Hymn! You can’t possible interpret a Hymn without singing the words!”
“Sir,” I said, “I’’ll sing all four parts at the same time if you want me to!” So I failed again! Money! Promotion! Prestige! [I sat and passed at the third go …] More Money, more Prestige, but still no Promotion!
My interests were Music, Martial Arts, and the Medical Profession. I realised that if I were to get anywhere, I would have to leave the Band and start a new career.
Consequently I took urgent steps to try to transfer to the Royal Army Medical Corps (RAMC), pursuing many courses and getting diplomas in Hygiene, the only field open to someone not already actually working in health care. After five long years of trying, I was eventually accepted for transfer into the RAMC. Time passed but still the actual transfer did not materialise. The Band was posted for a second three-year tour of Germany. Me with it. In despair I went to see Major Parkes to find out what was happening.
He told me: “I’ve been to see the Medics who interviewed you, and cancelled your transfer. I told them you were really a musician, and it would be better for you to stay in the Band. Furthermore, I’ve cancelled your registration at Kneller Hall to train as a Bandmaster!”
You can imagine my despair! I was devastated. There was no possibility of progress, other than resigning from the Army at my next shortly coming-up three-year release point.
 We went to Copenhagen to take part in a massed band Tattoo. Peter Parkes had moved on to one of the bands of the Brigade of Guards, and Major Tony Richards had taken over the Alamein Band. A nice chap. He and the rest of my band watched as in the very centre of the large Tattoo ground I was interviewed by the Director of Music of the Central Band of the Royal Air Force and accepted as Oboe player at my coming release point, when I would be able to leave the Army and re-enlist into the RAF.
But this was not to happen. Tony Richards, seeing that I was determined and that there was no way he could hold me, agreed to release me to the RAMC. And so in 1965 my transfer was at last effected.
I had previously qualified in Hygiene matters and had intended training in the RAMC as a Public Health Inspector. But to my horror the Medics now told me that they were no longer accepting mature personnel to train in this field. I thought, “My God, I’m going to be a Stretcher Bearer!” But, they continued, in view of my educational qualifications, would I like to train as a Physiotherapist?
A full-time three year course, and at age thirty I would still have enough army-time left to make it worthwhile for the Service. With a civilian job for the future? Of course I would!
I was posted to the Army School of Physiotherapy at the Royal Herbert Hospital, Shooters Hill, London, right next to the Brook Hospital, where I received osteopathic instruction from Dr Alan Stoddard and Mr (later Professor) Vince Nwga. I also received tuition from the great Dr Cyriax at his Harley Street Clinic.
On qualifying as a Chartered & State Registered Physiotherapist I was posted to Catterick Military Hospital, in Yorkshire where I finished my 22 years of Army service. Having in the meantime studied and qualified in a wide range of Alternative Therapies, including obtaining diplomas in Osteopathy and Acupuncture, I opened my own private clinic, with practices in Leyburn, Richmond, Darlington, and Hartlepool.
We hold free consultations for the families of the patient, looking for the earliest warning indications of future health problems such as high blood pressure and diabetes.
 
As a dedicated Judo Black Belt and Area Coach, I have sustained many ‘battle-injuries’, including a damaged right hand.
JR-J holding the Copenhagen Course
As a Judo Black Belt and Area Coach, I have sustained many ‘battle-injuries’, including a damaged right hand.
This has greatly affected my oboe playing, and so I turned to the French Horn, where the right hand is involved to only a small degree.
Making contact with that well-known and very knowledgeable Internet horn dealer, Alan Wiltshire, I followed his advice and bought many horns from him. My collection at the moment totals some fourteen instruments. Including Vienna and Natural horns.
But I have proved too trustworthy. One well-known horn dealer offered me several excellent quality instruments, saying he would only charge me £100 over his purchase price as his commission. It was only several years later that on checking with Paxman I found he had purchased these horns from them, then sold them to me at about a £1000 over his buying price! Caveat Emptor I know. But one tends to trust an internationally known Internet Horn dealer.
Indeed, I had dedicated a composition of mine to this dealer. But on finding out the truth, I rescinded that dedication.
Look at the title of my Sonatensatz Op 20, No 1.
 I have a large collection of French Horns, some of which are shown here. My No 1 favourite is the Paxman 25M, full of tone and dependable. I use it when writing my Horn multiphonic compositions. It is better even than my pre-alphbet Conn 3D. Although my much cheaper Reynolds almost equals it. I find the Paxman Triple somewhat too heavy for comfort, but the tone is good.
My Paxman Natural Horn is great fun, but I seldom use it. I bought it many years ago when I did not know much about the Horn. I intend one day to really explore its mysteries!
 Prof Hans Pizka and me
I have two Vienna horns. The first was purchased from Prof Hans Pizka. He delivered it to me at a meeting of the Scottish Vienna Horns, personally assuring me of its quality. Unfortunately it turned out to be most unsatisfactory. The mechanism was so noisy that I was reduced to tears. It rattles like a pile of old tin cans tied together. Even Paxman, the London horn dealers confessed they
were unable to improve it.
Prof Pizka refused to take it back to rectify the faults, saying that the guarantee was void now that Paxman had handled it, and he would not look at it.
However, several months later he agreed that his horn was indeed faulty, and sent me several pads to try to correct the severe clanking.
I am not mechanically minded, and the remedial procedure was beyond me, so I have given up. It is unfortunate that such a well-known expert as Prof Pizka delivered such an unsatisfactory service.
Beware! I would never again take the risk of buying from his firm. This Vienna horn has been up for sale for six years. It is still hanging unusable and unsaleable on my wall. [Does anybody want it - cheap?]
I also have an Alexander Vienna horn. It is excellent and is far superior to the Pizka version, equal in tone but mechanically extremely quiet. I play this often with great pleasure and can recommend it.
Moral: When you buy a Horn, make sure you have an effective guarantee – I didn’t!
I no longer have access to an accompanist, consorts or groups. So that I can only play the solo, instrumental line. In effect playing ‘truncated music’. As a composer, my specific interest is in writing music for the musician with problems similar to mine, in that s/he has no convenient accompanist or local group to play with.
This can involve playing an instrument using only one hand, using multiphonics to accompany the melody, or writing dazzling virtuoso concert ‘lollipops’. Such as my Sonatas, Metamorphoses Suite, Variations on a Theme of Paganini, Wind In The Woods and others.
   Some of my published compositions.
At my age, 75, I am giving consideration to learning the Harp …
Or should it be the Percussionist’s Wagnerian anvil?
Tyson!
A Staffordshire Bull Terrier
You may find some of these sites interesting …
http://www.johnroberts-james.co.uk
http://www.alternativetherapyclinic.co.uk
http://www.sjambok.co.uk
http://www.effectiveselfdefence.co.uk
http://www.personalprotectionpublications.co.uk
http://www.musicsolo.com
I hope you Enjoy! the music in this Site.
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