Tom is alternately pointing at his feet, conducting them as they move across the electronic dance mat in smooth, rhythmic steps, body swaying. "This is wicked," he proclaims. "This is my favourite so far. It's like a dancing mix." Which gets Jody interested, "Play for me," she says - and he does.
Placing the headphones on her head he begins to move. His right leg crosses behind his left, then his left leg reaches out and taps repeatedly on the corner square. What she is listening to, and what he is playing, are samples of a London Symphony Orchestra (LSO) concert, snippets of music that are reworked and repeated to create a wholly new, and different sound.
Remixing the LSO through a dance-mat is just one of several novel music making activities in this hi-tech room in the basement of St Lukes, the orchestra's community base on the fringes of the City of London. In another corner Caroline is watching the green bars of the virtual mixing desk leaping up and down as she taps incessantly at the buttons of the Playstation controller in her hand, pounding out the drumbeats from the software. As her friend, Modupe, joins in the two watch, entranced, before collapsing in giggles.
Like Doctor Who
Elsewhere their fellow students play a synthesiser with a steering wheel, use a joystick to mix snatches of a real-time reading of Treasure Island from the internet, and coax harmonics from a Theremin, the first electronic instrument ever invented with two steel electrodes, one looped, one straight, and a sound straight out of Doctor Who.
Meanwhile, a TV screen in the corner acts as a window on the other half of this group who are having a very different musical experience, working together to ring out a melody on the chimes and gongs of a Balinese Gamelan.
Later in the day, once everyone has had a go in both rooms, they will be blending the disciplined, centuries-old sound of the one with the toy-driven techno babble of the other to create a "soundscape". "Which is," explains Orphy Robinson the man responsible for making music from all the associated technology, "sounds that invent imagery. That build up a story."
It's a process he begins to demonstrate by conducting an improvisation of all the machines and devices around the room. A drum beat comes up, then a sound like bad reception on a shortwave radio cuts in with snatches of Robert Louis Stevenson, "with a yo-ho-ho", and the dance mat adds a violin crescendo.
It is all part of an Aim Higher scheme called Widening Participation, organised at City University in London by Louise Baker, the co-ordinator who hopes that it will, "Encourage aspiration to go to university and to achieve." The participating students are all in years 9 and 10, GCSE candidates from across five east London boroughs at schools where going on to higher education is not taken for granted.
Gamelan
When the groups swap rooms, Brian, a drummer, settles down cross-legged in the corner of the Gamelan room between the gongs, barefoot, with his baseball cap on backwards and his sunglasses down, yet looking completely at home.
Here the looseness and individualism of technology and headphones is replaced by structure, discipline and working together. As Brian counts out the time and strikes the gongs so his colleagues count along and add in the beat of a drum or the hum of a chime bar.
"We're not improvising this morning - we're going to keep it really strict," says Andy Channing, their conductor. "Listen to the whole sound," he advises, "The hardest part is listening to the whole thing and finding the signals." Which they manage very well, quickly producing a harmonious, resonant sound that increases its volume and tempo at Andy's signals, then drops off again, waiting for the final beat of his drum to bring them to a stop.
The course lasts five days, with sessions at both City University and the LSO. The students appreciate what it is about. "It broadens and narrows horizons - you know what you could do," explains Alexandra, a trumpeter from Sydney Russell School in Dagenham, explaining how it is helping to show her new possibilities while also making her confident about what she wants to do. Tom agrees. He thinks it is about "how to create a music career and make the most of university to get the most out of it". While Chantelle clearly sees both the glamorous and practical parts of the industry: "Learning how to get a hit record as well as management."
As the day progresses so the soundscape develops. After lunch ideas are canvassed -"Waves," says Gemma, which Brian likes, sensing tension and conflict. "City sounds," "The businesses of London," "Travelling across town". All of these are accepted and the students go off to work in different ways.
In the Gamelan room Andy, aided by Tom Goodman, a bassist, and Nigel Broadbent, a violinist from the main orchestra begin a jam session to craft the more traditional aspects. Over in the techno room some students begin to work on rap lyrics, others on words for songs and Whitney begins to "write some beats" on the drum software.
By lunchtime of the second day they're finished. It is an extraordinarily creative piece, combining all their talents and musical interests, yet created using an array of tools which have both a very long heritage and almost none at all. Composed through an experience that has demanded structured and disciplined application, combined with the freedom to explore individual paths. Much like university, really.
How to get involved
The London Symphony Orchestra runs a range of courses for school pupils of all ages, including sessions on the Gamelan or on music technology. Email lsostlukes@lso.co.uk for details
