A little while back I had an awake dream, or vision, call it what you will. The Romantic poets would have maintained that it was a divine lightning flash of inspiration. I’m not so sure. Perhaps, given its content, it’s better thought of as a low, thunderous rumble of the same.

I attended the recent performances of the Berlioz Requiem given by Gergiev, the CBSO and the Mariinsky Theatre orchestra at Symphony Hall. The Berlioz makes use of several brass groups – four, in fact – stationed around the auditorium. The effect of loud raspy instruments bouncing around the hall was really rather magnificent, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t heard any antiphonal early brass music for a very long time indeed. In fact, it had been so long that it took me a while to call the name of Giovanni Gabrieli to mind.

Now, hold the art of early Baroque antiphony in the back of your mind for a moment. We shall come back to it with a horrible inevitability shortly.

The other thing that impressed me about the Berlioz was the sheer number of bassoons on the stage. The passage of time may have blurred my memory but I think I counted eight, including two contrabassoons. I’ve long been a fan of the mighty bassoon; it’s one of the instruments, along with the viola, that I’d love to be able to play if I had enough lifetimes. As a tuba-player myself, the contrabassoon is obviously particularly attractive. It’s very low, and, like the tuba, can be heard over just about anything else. And, much like the tuba, it looks pretty daft.

You can probably see where I’m going with this by now. Something happened in my brain that screamed at me “ANTIPHONAL CONTRABASSOONS!”

I’m well aware that one can take tablets to avoid such things happening, but for now, in quiet moments, my mind keeps straying back to this idea. I don’t think 20 contrabassoons would be over-indulgent. Obviously a large performance space would be desirable, with a wet acoustic to allow a satisfyingly muddy wash of harmonics.

But what would they play? An arrangement of Gabrieli might work well – relatively speaking. Or a contrabass rendition of Tallis’s Spem In Alium. Or there’s always the option of a comic song like I am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General from HMS Pinafore. But that, I fear, would be pandering to stereotypes. The bassoon, again, very much like the tuba, suffers from the fact that people think it sounds silly as a solo instrument. Believe me, having heard a fearsome performance of Berio’s bassoon Sequenza live in the summer, I wouldn’t want to promote any view of the bassoon or contra as comedy instruments.

Of course, it doesn’t really matter what they’d play. And I shan’t be bothering to write anything: the chances of my gathering 20 contrabassoonists together are anything from very, very slim to absolutely nil. I shall just file the rather delicious idea away along with the marching Heckelphone ensemble and concerto for Contrabassophone and orchestra as being something that I would love to hear. But only the once.