Extreme Cello was born after three cellists from Sheffield read about, and watched on
television, the sport of "Extreme Ironing", in which contestants iron
clothes in locations such as up mountains, up trees and under water. They are judged on both the extremity of the location and quality
of the ironing.
Initially finding the sport bizarre, the cellists then watched a documentary on Channel 4 which focused on the World Championships in Germany. This gave them an idea: if a household task such as ironing can be performed in extreme locations with such panache, why not a creative activity like music making?
When the music fund at Westways Primary School was brought to their attention, the result was inevitable - Extreme Cello became a reality. Since the cello is a large instrument, this gives the venture an added complication, but at the same time a far more visual impact. Unlike Extreme Ironing, Extreme Cello is not a competitive sport, but a collaborative experience of musical, visual and physical endeavour.
On May 24th 2003, these cellists undertook what was believed to be the first ever day of "Extreme Cello Playing". This involved them playing their cellos in six locations of varying extremity: the top of Mam Tor; the Blue John Cavern; Grindleford Station; Padley Gorge; Sheffield University Arts Tower; and Sheffield's new Winter Garden. The day raised over £1800 for the music fund at Westways Primary School in Sheffield. Click here for further details of this day.
On 18 June 2005 the Extreme Cellists, plus some friends, undertook another mammoth exercise! This time it involved a walk from Manchester Cathedral to Sheffield Cathedral - a 45(+) mile route - with six cello playing stops along the way. The day raised over £2500 for Sheffield Cathedral Choir. Click here for the full story of this day.
In 2006 the Extreme Cellists undertook an even more ridiculous venture. Between 24 July and 4 August, the cellists played on the roofs (or other equivalent extreme location) of all the Anglican Cathedrals in England. Yes, you read that right - that's 42 Cathedrals in 12 days! The venture aimed to raise money for two charities with names (loosely) linked to Cathedral roofs: Shelter and Aspire. More details about these charities, our itinerary & route, and how we got on, can be found here!
In 2007, a much smaller venture - the Monopoly Board Challenge - involved performances at each of the streets on the London Monopoly board in a single day (in order).
In 2008 we reached our peak to date (literally) with the Four Peaks Challenge - performances at the summits of the tallest mountains in Scotland, England, Wales and Ireland. In doing this we raised over £5,000 for Aspire and local Mountain Rescue associations. In 2009, we stretched ourselves further by running the Sheffield Half Marathon, carrying cellos and playing twice en route (as well as to massed crowds at the start!).
In 2010 we successfully completed the Coast-to-Coast walk, a 193-mile hike across northern England, to raise money for Aspire and PACT (Parents Association of Children with Tumours and Leukemia).
To keep in touch with future Extreme Cello Playing ventures, come back to this web site, or join our mailing list!
Finally, we'd like to share with you a wonderful poem written by Louise Vale, who is a member of a London group of poets called the King's Poets. This poem, entitled "The Cellist and the Mountain", was written when Louise was unaware of Extreme Cello, but when she heard about us she saw how appropriate it was!
The cellist and the mountain
A cellist, faced by a mountain, has few options.
He can’t climb or abseil. To be realistic, he has
limited
powers of movement, given the unwieldiness
of the instrument, its childlike need for protection.
He can search for a path, a cleft
through the rock,
a trickle
which may in time become a torrent.
He could abandon the cello, find sudden freedom
through desertion, discover a living
elsewhere.
He can sit quietly, create his own perfect interval.
Meditate on the implications of life without music,
find a way of waiting which leads to inner silence;
or, like
the sun, appeal to the mountain’s good side
and play, hoping that somewhere at its core, despite
its petrified judgement, it
will, instinctively, be moved.
© Louise Vale, May 2009