In what can only be described as a symphonic salad, Fitzrovia Concert Hall brought music lovers—and vegetable enthusiasts—together last night for a performance of Handel’s Messiah unlike any seen (or heard) before. The star-studded seasonal tradition was reinvented by The Gourmand Ensemble, a group of audacious musicians who bravely traded in their violins, trumpets, and harps for an entire orchestra made from fresh vegetables.
Under the baton of avant-garde conductor Basil Turner, the event was as much a culinary marvel as a musical one. Instruments crafted from carrots, courgettes, and cabbages filled the concert hall with surprising harmony and no small amount of earthy aroma.
The evening opened with the ethereal sound of parsnip recorders, accompanied by a bassoon carved entirely from a butternut squash. “I wanted to challenge tradition,” explained Turner, in his pre-concert address. “Who needs brass and woodwinds when a pumpkin can hold a tune and a cauliflower can carry a rhythm?”
The choir, outfitted in robes embroidered with images of root vegetables, was in fine voice. The Hallelujah Chorus, typically performed with swelling trumpets and soaring strings, reached new heights as trombones made of hollowed-out celery stalks and clarinets painstakingly whittled from cucumbers stole the spotlight. Audience members reported hearing “surprisingly dulcet notes” emanating from the turnip-tuba, though one critic described it as “a little off in the lower register—like the sound of soup being stirred.”
In the string section, courgette violins were played with leek bows, producing a tremulous sound that one attendee lovingly referred to as “organic and vibrational, much like Handel himself might have enjoyed on a farm.” Meanwhile, the percussive heartbeat of the performance came courtesy of aubergine bongos, beetroot bass drums, and a pair of oversized pumpkins being enthusiastically thumped with sprigs of rosemary.
Soloist soprano Petunia Floret, already famous for her bold repertoire choices, delivered her aria while accompanied solely by a wistful solo performed on a carrot-flute. Audience members could be seen dabbing their eyes, overwhelmed not only by the beauty of the performance but perhaps also the faint scent of roasted vegetables wafting through the air.
The Gourmand Ensemble took a well-deserved bow at the end of the two-hour performance, which concluded with an ambitious finale in which kale tambourines and a towering marimba made entirely of rhubarb stalks added texture to the soundscape.
Vegetable instrument artisan and orchestra co-founder Horace Peelings commented, “It’s about breaking barriers. People laugh when they see a parsnip bassoon, but when they hear it—well, they’re still laughing, but in awe.” He paused. “Of course, the instruments have to be eaten after the show. Waste not, want not.”
True to his word, the audience was invited to a post-performance “root vegetable reception,” where the instruments—now soup-ready—were ceremoniously chopped and simmered into an enormous pot of minestrone.
Critics were divided. Reginald Parsnip, classical music correspondent for the Fitzrovia Gazette, praised the bold innovation: “It was a feast for the ears, the eyes, and the palate. Handel’s Messiah has never been so sustainable.” Others were less kind. Henrietta Plum of Modern Orchestral Review sniffed, “This is neither fine dining nor fine music. It’s what happens when you leave children unattended in a greengrocer.”
Nonetheless, the audience gave a standing ovation and clamored for an encore performance next year, with rumors already swirling that The Gourmand Ensemble is planning a Beethoven tribute featuring brassicas and gourds.
As conductor Basil Turner said, “Why stop at vegetables? Next year, we’ll see what we can do with dairy.”
Fitzrovia, it seems, has firmly established itself as the epicenter of edible orchestral innovation.
