A fun fact about me is that I’ve never been to a live concert before. And my music taste can mostly be described as “no thoughts, head empty”. If you asked me about the first piano piece that comes to mind, I’d say Tokio Myers’ debut performance on Britain’s Got Talent.
It is with this blank slate that, on a quiet Saturday in Nanyang Auditorium (NYA), I would attend Wanderlust’24.
In the past, Wanderlust served as a fundraiser for NTU Symphonic Band’s (NTUSB) overseas exchange trips, thus the apt name “Wanderlust”. What makes this year’s Wanderlust more meaningful is that this is the first time they managed to arrange an overseas trip post-covid! 😀
It also serves as the first-year students’ debut concert and official inauguration into NTUSB!
While not explicitly mentioned, the theme of Wanderlust’24 was “Caelum et Terram“, which translates to “Heaven and Earth” – not to be confused with the green tea, said NTUSB Chairperson Malcolm Tan. The name reflects the sky- and earth-themed pieces featured in the concert. This was also apparent in the design of the programme booklet.
Wanderlust’24 Programme Booklet and Outline. NTU Symphonic Band
When I entered Nanyang Auditorium, most were already seated. My girlfriend and I fumbled in the dark to find good seats.’
When we finally settled down in a cosy corner close to the front of the chamber, our eyes were greeted with the glowing glitter of brass and the glossy glimmer of woodwind instruments.
The visual presentation of the band alone was a spectacle to behold. Mr Takehiro Oura, the resident conductor, stood out with his white coat juxtaposed against the band members’ black suits and dresses.
One thing that caught my attention at the rightmost corner of the stage was a lone double bass player, nestled between the tuba section and an unused bass guitar hiding sheepishly in the corner. It made me think of Chekhov’s gun, a narrative principle that states that every element mentioned has to be relevant (if not immediately). In this case, it’s not a gun waiting to be fired, but a bass guitar waiting to be played.
Like the percussive tings colouring the airy woodwind passages in their opening piece “March Blue Sky” by Thoko Takagi, each element, be it visual or aural, blended into a coherent and comely front.
This was the first of the “Caelum” pieces, and one which I would describe as celebratory yet majestic. But while not all “Caelum” pieces evoked the same mood, all of them share similar qualities of striking brass and loud percussions, sensibly layered within soft chimes and lofty whistles. It’s hard to describe what I felt listening to these pieces, but in the vaguest of terms, it’s like I was among the stars, and the sky was beneath me.
My favourite piece was “The Archangel Raphael who leaves a House of Tobias” by Masanori Taruya. It had many qualities reminiscent of the music from Star Wars. Its dynamic shifts between loud and soft passages evoked an impression of grandeur and mystery. The band members reinforced this idea with solemn expressions as they played.
Fun fact: “The Archangel Raphael who leaves a House of Tobias” is a painting too, albeit with a different moniker.
As each piece gave way to another, the Emcee’s familiar voice acted as a beacon, guiding us from one piece to the next with light-hearted commentary on the next piece and giving us much-needed time to reset our mental and emotional states. Colour me inexperienced, but without her, I might not have known where each piece starts and ends!
If “Caelum” was ethereal and exquisite, then “Terram” was upbeat and lively. Stepping out of the serenading tones of “Caelum” and into the bold beats of “Terram”, “Second Suite for Band” by Alfred Reed was the next piece. A composer that any band nerd would be familiar with, Reed seamlessly sways between contrasting moods and styles, before ending “Second Suite for Band” with the full range of an ensemble: The brash fanfare, fiery percussion and pleasant woodwind tunes come together to capture the quintessential essence of concert band.
The dynamic blending of both emotional warmth and technical finesse exemplified the energy that we grew accustomed to for the rest of the concert.
In fact, all the “Terram” pieces could be characterised by their heavy-hitting, unapologetically loud percussion rhythms taking the forefront, with lush plucks and blistering whistles unifying to create a groovy energy.
Another hallmark of the “Terram” pieces was the members’ interactions with the audience. I especially enjoyed it when different sections had their “solo” moment, each showcasing their individual flair and emotions, be it confidence, happiness, or even a little bit of flamboyant emoting!
Other memorable interactions included one saxophone player who whipped out his whistle and played it to the snazzy tunes of “El Cumbanchero” by Naohiro Iwai, or when two percussionists ran off stage and around the audience, beating their tambourines as we clapped to the music. I would find out after the concert that one of them was none other than NTUSB’s chairperson himself!
Whistle!
Not only did this give individual members a face and personality in this otherwise mostly auditory performance, it also brought a very carefree and high-spirited atmosphere that the “Caelum” pieces did not necessarily convey. A fitting vibe to bring the concert to a close.
Though, call me a literary nerd, but my favourite moment was still the metaphorical firing of Chekhov’s gun, or rather, the playing of the bass guitar.
They say all good things must come to an end, but even after the concert came to a close, the ecstasy did not leave instantly. Instead, it slowly dissipated as family and friends came to their loved ones’ side in congratulations. I can’t help but think that for some, this was their favourite moment of the night.
As I was leaving the auditorium, a band member approached me for help taking pictures of him and his friend. “Are you a first-year student?” I made some small talk as I took some unprofessional shots (I’m a writer, not a photographer!). “Nope! Fourth year!” was his reply. We inspected the photos: They looked good; their smiles illuminating with an indelible joy borne from the concert, no doubt.
Truly, the concert lasted a little over two hours, but the memories everyone made and the emotions felt, much like the pictures I took, will be looked back upon fondly.
Concerts, like most performances, are fleeting moments. The impermanence of concerts gives them a “catch it while it lasts” kind of feeling. It gives concerts an incredible sense of authenticity. You can’t pause or rewind them like a song on an album. Sure, I used to think that watching someone’s recording of a concert on YouTube would be the same. In many ways, it’s good enough, but witnessing every aspect of a concert in person makes them that much more personal.
After all, I wouldn’t have had the chance to take pictures for a band member after the concert ended if I had been watching it on my phone months after the moment had passed.
In a way, concerts can be like sunsets, they’re moments of beauty destined to transience, but in that one moment, it feels like a perfect version of itself.
I’ve never been a concert-goer, but after this experience, I’m eager to see NTUSB play again on their next concert – Sojourn – on 29 March 2025, at the School of The Arts Singapore!
Thank you for reading, and as finals approach, I hope all good things come your way! When it’s over, may you also embark on your own journey of wanderlust, wherever it may be!