Into the Pit: Why Plymouth’s Boldest Orchestra is One to Watch in 2026
When community reporter Joshua Edwards attended The Pit Orchestra’s re-scoring of Battleship Potemkin in December, he found himself in the middle of something only Plymouth could produce: experimental, collaborative, defiantly imperfect and quietly magnificent. As the city steps into a new and exciting year, his review asks what makes TPO so unique here — and why we should all be paying attention to whatever they do next.
The Pit Orchestra have built up something of a reputation over the passed ten plus years. Varied and interesting musical endeavors conducted with a DIY punk attitude, the Pit have scored films, academic conferences and free-swimming events all.
On the 13th of December they revisited a previous project for a special one-off performance at the House; to celebrate the centenary of its original cinematic release, the Pit Orchestra spent the year re-writing their 2017 original score for legendary Soviet epic, Battleship Potemkin. A year long project that benefitted from Arts Council funding, a tremendous amount of hard work went into that evening.
What struck me on arrival to the event was the diversity of the attended audience. I have been to a few of the concerts Chris Muirhead has put on at the venue within the university and, though perhaps a little different to your usual Plymouth gig going audience, there’s still a certain age range and social demographic that is consistent with other experiences in the live music scene. The Pit Orchestra attracts a different crowd. There are children and there are pensioners and everything in-between. Culturally, it feels like an event of some magnitude.
As promised, before the film begins, the evening is opened by a performance from the Ukrainian Singers of Plymouth. They perform a set of traditional folk songs in their native tongue, backed by an accordion. Each song is introduced with some context and back story as the singers stand together, chests out, great smiles on their faces. I find the whole thing very moving, not just because of the passion of the performers, but for the pride and strength they exude. It is beautiful.
Before the film starts, one of the pieces composers and the man responsible for arrangements and notation, Tom Richardson introduces it. He does so in a way that is a little awkward and a little ad-hoc. It sets a tone, not of self-deprecation or under preparedness, but of humility and a belief that the work will speak for itself. It is an endearing beginning, then he sits at the piano and we begin.
I had not seen Battleship Potemkin before that evening. I elected to continue not seeing it when I heard the performance was upcoming. There is a magic to experiencing something for the first time that I relish. In hindsight, I wish I had been more familiar with it before attending.
Don’t get me wrong, the film is incredible; phrases like seminal film and one of the greatest films ever made are thrown around in conversations about Battleship Potemkin and on viewing I found them to be justified. What’s difficult is choosing how best to divide your attention between the images on screen and the musicians performing the score.
Tom bounces between piano, guitar and percussion throughout, all the while conducting and directing the other players. The three singers (Bee Jarvis, Kimberly Holladay and Sumika Summers) merge together as this middle point between sirens and muses, their words and voices a warning or a threat. Mariot Witney’s trumpet cuts through passages, adding that military feel but also accentuating tension. Georgia James Simone’s drums provide a riotous backdrop throughout, as the strings section of Chris Muirhead on cello and Martin Coath and Jasper Clark on violins draw everything in and colour the scenes. The refrains of Francis Rowney’s flute and accordion are incredibly well timed and well executed.
For me, it’s Chris Baileys guitar that cuts the deepest, loathe as I am to lean towards the obvious preferred musical instrument of the straight white man. He employs various post-rock tones throughout with pretty minimalist repetition, like a venomous Mogwai, that really ramps up the tension, and in places horror, of the whole thing.
Of course, to single out any of the instruments is to misunderstand the point of an orchestra, so forgive me: I’m lowbrow. When everything comes together in concert, the voices chanting, the musicians building together in this classical, folk, post-rock melange, Richardson shouting numbers into a megaphone with mechanical menace, Muirhead bellowing just off mic as he hits his cello strings instead of playing them, and Katy Richardson calmly standing up from the front row to play an old fashioned fire alarm at the front of the stage, as the images on screen display horror and triumph and stoicism and dread in stark, hundred year old black and white?
Powerful is the word.
Wowzah!
Every town has great bands. Every town has great comedy, great cinema, great theatre, great art. You can find these things in every town; you’ve just got to look. Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be championed, but every town has them.
The Pit Orchestra is unique to Plymouth. It feels like something special, something that we can boast as a cultural anomaly of our very own. There is magic at play here and I’d advise that you dip into it as soon as you can.
I fear I run the risk of coming across as too positive in these reviews I’ve written, because I normally implore you to “go see the thing” at the end. Part of that is art and music excite me, part of that is that I’m lucky enough to be able to choose what I’m reviewing for the most part so I don’t have to play the critic or be the baddie because I honestly don’t believe that anybody’s opinion should put you off anything; what I think is rubbish, you might love, and who am I to tell you you’re wrong? But with the Pit Orchestra I can say, objectively, you should go and see them perform regardless of what weight you grant to my opinions.
The score was recorded prior to the performance at Middle Farm Studios by the Pit Orchestra and is available for purchase on their website, alongside details on how to listen to it whilst viewing the film as they intended. There will be details there soon on the next project they have in the pipeline alongside a call for musicians to participate. I will be keeping an eye on that to see what’s next and I’d recommend you do to. Who knows? Maybe we can jump into the pit together.
https://www.thepitorchestra.com/