I wrote this after a trip to Omarama to watch gliders. The music that is mentioned in the text is supposed to fit with the action taking place at that time. If you don't know the music try listening to a few of the pieces and you should get the flavour.
Open Air Concert
Some people just take
to classical music. Others prefer rock and roll or country or Jazz. I have
always admired classical music and I have gone to the odd concert or two. I
usually embarrass myself by clapping in all the pauses rather than recognising
the end of the piece. I can name popular pieces that advertising companies
hammer to death but to date my CD/MP3 collection has only about 10% of its
music that dates back earlier than 1960.
Classical music
involves hard work, it is more complex and more three dimensional than modern
music. It certainly needs a team effort. I have a huge respect for anyone that
can play a musical instrument having made a dismal attempt in my youth and
given it up for the sake of humanity.
Several years ago I
was at a Christmas picnic at Omaka when the late Ray Lynskey preformed a glider
demonstration to a piece of classical music. It was awesome. I didn’t know
gliders did anything but float back down to earth like sycamore seeds. The
display was fluid and moving. It was a wonderful example of conservation of
momentum. I was impressed with what could be done without a motor. Rays flying
talent, perfect choreography and a well chosen piece of classical music made
for a jaw dropping experience that I can still visualise in my minds eye today.
Some people get bitten
by the gliding bug and yet others prefer powered flight or helicopters or
ballooning. I tried gliding once but was most disappointed by the lack of
excitement, speed and noise. Back then I preferred Pat Benatar. We got a tow up circled the local rubbish dump a few
times and landed again. It was more a pop for your buck rather than bang. Then
my bucks got diverted into fuel for powered flight. Four bangs per buck.
I went to Omarama this
Christmas. The first attraction to gliding was the late starts. Glider pilots
go to a briefing at 10am to suss out the weather and therefore the activities
for the day. This suits me far better than balloon pilots who I see landing
while I am munching my way through breakfast still in my dressing gown. The
second thing I liked was the community feel to the campsite. Achievements were
recognised and applauded, sometimes with a surprise bucket of water to boot.
There was an extended family feel, especially in the kitchen. With the
international guests and cooks hovering over a communal stove it felt like a
cross between the three tenors and
the Muppets Swedish cook. Yes Chaos.
New years eve was a combined BBQ and an ooh-aarh display of fireworks (1812th).
Glider pilots are
constantly reading the sky like musicians read sheet music. Interrupting the
notes/clouds for the tune of the day. The key clouds giving them a clue to the
frequency and tone of the wind. It is said that old pilots can read the weather
like a newspaper. Lennie, the weather guru, was a master. Lennie started 10am
sharp and watching glider pilots trying to get breakfasted and showered in time
was funny William Tells overture, Rossini.
I think of Lennie as the conductor giving guidance and order. Some cloud shapes
seemed to get great excitement out of the glider pilots, lenticular wave cloud
was a favourite. I suppose musicians prefer some musical pieces to others.
Once the weather was
right all hell would break loose on the start grid with everybody wanting to
get into the air at once. “The flight of
the bumblebee” by Rimsky-Korsakov. The tow planes, Pawnees, would set a
rhythm. Up, drop their glider and back in to collect another glider in around
seven minutes. Like a metronome constantly ticking in the background.
Then the gliders would
all collect over a ridge, turning around and around to gain height like
circling vultures. Once enough height was gained they’d swoop for the next up
draught. Arrival of the Queen of Sheba Plum Fairy, The Nutcracker by Tchaikovsky”
its time to start
descending. Dance of the Hours,
Ponchielli. (Yes I see a toilet roll ad, it should be outlawed).
Sometimes there are
out landings. A powered pilot would call it a forced landing. Pilots run out of
lift and have to land in a paddock away from their home field. Glider pilots
seem unfazed by this inconvenience. I imagine them serenely listening to “sheep may safely graze” by Bach while they are waiting for their pick up
crew. They may have to put the ipod on repeat it could take awhile. I’ve heard
some pilots chose to adjourn to the local pub until said crew turn up. Hungarian Dance No5 Brahns
Then there are the
soloists. The stand out performers. Vanessa
Mae, Warm Air, Nigel Kennedy L’estate (Four seasons, Summer). Kiri Te Kanawa
soprano, Pavarotti tenor, They are recognised for their skill and stamina.
They play long solitary pieces and make records that capture the attention of
the public bringing fame, fortune and recognition to the classical sport.
At the end of the day
if we were lucky we got treated to a fitting finale by Terry Delore in his
majestic glider showing once again what can be done with momentum. Ravels Bolero.
This summer I was content to sit on the ground enjoying the performances, admiring the talent needed to fly these plastic pterodactyls. Next year I might take my ipod for a fitting musical cues to the visuals. Vangelis 1492, Conquest of Paradise perhaps, though it’s sort of been done to death by some rugby team. If I get lucky enough to be taken aloft I think perhaps Piano Concerto No.21 by Mozart would keep me calm about not having a motor. If we make it to
Published Sport Flying Spring 2010
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