Australian Youth Orchestra
AYO National Music Camp 2025 Day One by Milly McAuliffe
Media and Communications Blog
As I sit in my dorm room, the honeyed sound of French horns warming up together hangs in the air, joined occasionally by the peep of an oboe. We were encouraged not to practise in the dorms to preserve the peace, but many can’t resist.
Later that day, I find the AYO String chamber group participants quietly waiting for their first rehearsal. Andrew Haveron is their tutor. He gives the group a guided tour of the program for the first week: Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings, Jessica Wells’, Dancing in St Petersburg, Christopher Sainsbury String Talk and Peter Sculthorpe’s Sonata No. 3 for Strings ‘Jaibu Dreaming’.
Very quickly a sense of comradery forms, with desk partners asking each other with their eyes, “do we come in here?” Teamwork is so ingrained in the act of music making that the musicians are trusting one another with their dignity after meeting only hours before. Most of the ensemble members are younger than twenty-one-years-old. Mobile phones lie discarded under chairs, and you can see some participants tap their sneakers or birkenstocks along to the beat.
Andrew conducts with both hands, one of them holding his violin and bow. As the tension in the piece heightens, he uses his violinless arm to demand more bow by making sweeping motions, and shouts, “keep bowing, more, more, more!” The ensemble is playing with such a full sound that he has to yell to be heard. The piece reaches a sudden moment of silence; the musicians still have their bows in their air.
“Don’t move,” whispers Andrew. The silence is so thick that I stop typing, in case the sound of my keyboard keys disturb it.
At the end of the piece, Andrew says, “I hope you enjoyed playing that… expressing such emotions. They may not be your emotions, but they are someone’s. This music helps people understand sorrow and it is such a privilege.” The musicians look at each other and smile, happy to experience this together.
Andrew asks each of them to introduce themselves. There are countless doodles mentioned and a few cats. One boy is stumped when Andrew asks for his cat’s name. After a thoughtful pause he answers “Dragon… but it’s a long story.”
Andrew is gentle with the participants, treating them with respect and warmth. Before beginning to rehearse Jessica Well’s Dancing in St Petersburg, he gives a bowing instruction to the second violins. One of them is dubious and has a poor poker face, prompting Andrew to say, “I understand your eyebrows, and they are perfectly valid, but let’s try and give it a go.”
At one point in Christopher Sainsbury’s String Talk, the violins play an incorrect rhythm, and Andrew trusts the musicians so much that rather than call out, he stops conducting and wordlessly demonstrates the rhythm on his violin. The attentive ensemble stops immediately to listen, then comes back in playing the correct rhythm.
The Sculthorpe features an unusual strings technique used to create bird-like sounds. The ensemble plays this prettily, but Andrew stops them to say “I’ve lived in Australia for the last eleven years and some of the ugliest sounds I’ve ever heard have come from Australian birds…if there is a bird from your part of the world you know, please play that. Sculthorpe wants nature to be overwhelming and fabulous.”
At the end of the movement the birdsong is at full volume, then quietens, and one by one the musicians drop out to heighten the effect. As they do this, Andrew says, “I dare you to be the last one.” Everyone dares, and he has to cut them off.
At the end of rehearsal exhaustion fills the room. Most of these musicians have only arrived in Adelaide this afternoon and are battling jet lag, and it’s already around 9:30pm. My friends from Perth are headed to a bakery and I’m tempted, but I’m more tired than hungry so I mother myself off the bed. As I lie in my sunshine-heated dorm room, music from the day echoes in my ears. I think of which bird I would imitate on a cello, and if anyone else is thinking of that too.
About National Music Camp
Founded in 1948, National Music Camp has become the cornerstone of our training. Over two intensive weeks, around 220 of the country’s most talented young musicians come together to be mentored by world-class tutors, artists, and conductors. They experience music-making at the highest national level as part of exceptional symphony or chamber orchestras.
Behind the scenes, aspiring arts leaders from the Media and Communication, Orchestral Management, and Sound Production programs collaborate to bring today’s concert to life. Whether crafting compelling narratives about music’s cultural impact, mastering stage management logistics, or capturing the magic of live performance in pristine audio, these participants are guided by industry experts, challenged, and inspired at every step.
Together with the Composition program, which fosters the creation of bold new works, this comprehensive approach to orchestral and arts administration training cultivates a dynamic environment where creativity and passion unite, lifelong friendships and collaborations are sparked, and Australia’s arts scene is reinvigorated. As the lifeblood of culture, the arts enrich our lives, connect us, challenge us, and transform us.