An Irishman's Diary

THE LONDON Times reports that Britain's orchestra managers are in a "tailspin" this weekend, as the music industry's two-year exemption from an EU directive on noise in the workplace expires.

Rock band managers must be worried too, I imagine. But the 2006 legislation is a particular challenge for the orchestra pit, where musicians are trapped in close proximity, with the sound of 100 instruments reverberating around them in what the Times calls "a kind of sonic trench". During musical peaks, apparently, the decibel levels to which a typical player is thus exposed range from the noise of a pneumatic drill to that of an aeroplane taking off.

Here in Ireland, the musical exemption has already expired, and did so - luckily, in the circumstances - without much fanfare. Even so, performing groups such as the RTÉ orchestras are now urgently revising their noise policies, while the needs of musicians' eardrums will be an important factor in plans for the new, enlarged National Concert Hall.

Production of sound being central to their job, it seems safe to assume that, whatever happens, classical musicians will not replicate the spate of Army deafness claims of a few years back. But then again, the gap between orchestra membership and military service is not as wide as you might think. In fact, on some occasions, the concept of a "sonic trench" can even be more apt that the Times writer intended.

Take a random orchestral piece such as - say - the 1812 Overture. In his efforts to evoke the Battle of Borodino seven decades later, Tchaikovsky prescribed the firing of live cannons as part of his score. Health and Safety officers were not as active in the workplace during the 1880s as they are now, obviously. But even some modern productions have incorporated actual artillery, and the piece must now be a major litigation risk.

Shostakovich's 7th Symphony is another case in point. Commemorating the heroism of his fellow Russians during the Siege of Leningrad, the epic work is often criticised as mere propaganda and bombast. It is also very loud. After listening to it, concert-goers with sensitive ears (physically or aesthetically) may feel like they have survived the siege in person. But imagine what it must be like in the sonic trench.

Of course, music doesn't have to be an evocation of war to be deafening. Many of the 19th-century Romantics - Wagner, Berlioz, and the like - are very hard on the ears. And even Tchaikovsky's peacetime work is noisy. During its more passionate moments, Swan Lake can reach 90 decibels, which is equivalent to a typical lawnmower or circular saw. Continuous exposure to such a noise level is now above the EU's workplace safety limit.

Even within the orchestra, some instruments are much worse than others. Just as small dogs can be disproportionately noisy, the tiny piccolo is one of the more damaging instruments for the ear's upper frequencies. And the human voice is a surprising powerful instrument too. Those of us who live with a soprano (of the female singing type, that is, not the New Jersey mob family) know it can be risky to get too close when they practise their high Cs.

The dilemma for orchestra managers and others is that - assuming the right notes are being hit - modern audiences equate big sound with quality. Life in general is a lot noisier than it was a century ago. But aural inflation has been particularly rampant in the music sector. Percussion instruments are larger than they used to be; metal has replaced quieter materials like wood and catgut; and brass instruments have mimicked the armaments industry by becoming bigger-bored and more powerful.

Baby boomers who are partially deaf from attending loud rock concerts in their youth are a factor in the demand for noisier classical music. So is the MP3 player, which is damaging a new generation of ears. For these and other reasons, classical performers are under pressure to maximise their decibel output. Even in opera halls, the use of microphones - once considered to be to classically trained singers what performance drugs are to athletes - is increasingly the norm.

In future, the norm will also include orchestra managers calculating the weekly decibel exposure of their instrumentalists, so that noisier pieces are spaced out in keeping with health and safety guidelines. Instrumentalists will be more spaced out too (in the strictly geographical sense, I hasten to add), with acoustic screens separating some from others. Horror of horrors, many classical musicians may even have to follow the lead of heavy metal performers and wear ear-plugs during concerts.

Audiences can also expect fewer events such as one taking place in New Zealand later this month. The Christchurch Proms will feature that city's symphony orchestra, joined for the occasion by "Pandemonium Percussion": a group that uses instruments ranging from "Caribbean steel drums" to household objects, including "vacuum cleaners".

The event promises to be "the biggest and noisiest orchestra ever assembled in Christchurch Town Hall". And to ensure this end, the organisers are inviting audience members to bring their own percussion instruments and "see if you can help us raise the roof." It sounds like it will be an exciting night. I presume the city's personal injury lawyers have already booked their seats.