Each instrument had its own microphone, and the sound was relayed through a series of more than 70 speakers, which amplified the natural sound of the ensemble and attempted to recreate the sound of the orchestra in each acoustic space – i.e. the speakers near the trumpet section would feature the sound of the trumpets more heavily than the speakers near the horn section. This system is called ‘Soundscape, the flagship audio reinforcement system created by German audio specialists d&b audiotechnik’. It took a while to set this up, and it would continue to be fine-tuned throughout. Initially, I could hear a little too much of my own sound coming out of the speakers, which was a bit disconcerting – a bit like when you can hear your own voice on the other side of a Zoom or Skype call and you forget what you intended to say (as you start listening to yourself) – but once the settings and levels were fine-tuned in the final rehearsal, the amplification became almost unnoticeable. Members of the public were able to move around the venue and listen to the individual sound of each location within the orchestra – which was arranged almost like an exploded diagram of an orchestra. There was a distance of about 50 metres between us and the horn section on the opposite side. Everybody had to trust Nicholas Collon's baton, and follow the visual rather than solely the audible. I put a lot of my trust in Matt Hardy (timpani) who was an excellent leader and visual cue for many of our entries. He was also one of a very few to have a sound monitor (from the double bass section) and he was situated a little closer to the centre than we were. He is a fantastic timpanist and was very easy to follow.

At the start of the performance the orchestral players, released desk by desk, walked through the crowd and ascended onto their risers. Once a ‘ready’ position had been assumed each section was illuminated, one by one, by bright white spotlights from directly above. This atmospheric lighting illuminated the various sections of the orchestra and gave the audience a great sense of anticipation; the lights changed colour throughout the performance and highlighted some musical elements of each movement.

After playing the first movement, a great cheer rang out; electronic music and a laser light show were the next to take the attention of the audience. The electronic music had been created specially for the occasion by Sam Swallow; his music effectively through-composed the new elements, and he had ingeniously used rhythms and motifs from the symphony. The conductor Nicholas Collon gave the cue to the orchestra and we segued into the second movement. The electronic music that linked the second to the third movement, via another laser light show was also particularly successful in bridging the clear change of characters between the second and third movements. 

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With all these incredible factors I have almost forgotten to mention that the orchestra was, again, performing the full symphony from memory. This allowed the audience to share, more intimately, the experience of standing within the orchestra – without the physical barrier of music stands. I have to admit that I felt a bit self-conscious, almost intimidated, by having the audience so close to the end of the trumpet bell. However, they didn’t flinch when we started playing – even at what felt like a loud dynamic – so I quickly got used to it. It was quite interesting to watch the people in our immediate vicinity listening in the second movement. When we played, they would turn and look at us. When we rested they would almost forget that we were there, their attention reverting elsewhere, until our next entry would take them as if by surprise. I think it was probably quite interesting for people to experience the off-on, rest-play nature of the trumpet section from within it.

The reaction at the end of the third and fourth movements (which ran segue) was electrifying – the building erupted in great cheers. The audience had clearly loved this immersive experience.

The venue in Rotherhithe, as the name suggests, was formerly a printworks. Newspapers, including the Daily Mail and the Evening Standard were printed there until 2012. It reopened in 2017 as a nightclub and events venue, with an authentically industrial feel.

‘A cavernous 16-acre building in Canada Water that was once home to western Europe’s largest printing factory, Printworks London is today one of the UK’s leading electronic music destinations. The original industrial aesthetics, giant machines and printing presses have been preserved to create a music venue unlike any other, and one of the most atmospheric performance spaces anywhere in the world. For this special event, we’ll be combining the vast scale of Printworks’ iconic Presshalls with trailblazing audio technology and the unique potential of an orchestra performing from memory to offer a completely new experience of a classical symphony.’
- Read more on the Aurora Orchestra’s website.

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It was all rather fascinating, and certainly an interesting and rewarding experiment. Over the two performances that evening, we played to a total of about 2,500 people. I heard one colleague say, afterwards something along the lines of ‘I’ve got to admit I had my doubts about this one, but it’s Aurora… I should never have doubted them – of course they got it absolutely right!’ My admiration and thanks must go to all the creative thinkers and organisers behind this groundbreaking project. 

Addendum: According to the Aurora Orchestra's CEO, '75% of the 2,500-strong audience who attended were under the age of 44' – which is brilliant!

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