Rachmaninov and Copland

Rachmaninov and Copland

It's another 'early shift' this Thursday evening, with the show beginning at 18:30 as opposed to 19:30 (that means I have another prom to attend via Radio 3 in bed later this evening). As for the cooking, it's a carbon copy of Tuesday night.

Elsa Barraine's Symphony No. 2 opens this programme which is lightly themed towards music around wartime. And, indeed, this first piece sounds to me foreboding and militaristic. This is music that brings about a feeling of sorrow and reflection.

The second piece [Aaron Copland's Clarinet Concerto] opens more gently, and I think to myself 'sounds like the (bass) clarinet is soloing?' I was nearly right!

The last piece of the first half is the real treat for me... Artie Shaw's Clarinet Concerto brings us a subtle flavour of New Orleans jazz to begin with. What sounds similar to When The Saints Go Marching In develops gradually into a steady Glenn Miller-style feel.

I believe it is the clarinet player, Martin Fröst, who takes to the mic with some good humour and to explain the upcoming encore - it's a bit of Bach (you know I love him anyway) but tooted solely on the clarinet. It's a quirky number that leaves me smiling to myself.

Image: AI generated by Chat GPT

Symphonic Dances by Rachmaninov forms the second half of the show. It's a relaxing piece of music, so I lie on the settee to soak it up. I struggle to keep my eyes open as the daily tolls of the week catch up with me. 

Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto

 Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto, Grażyna Bacewicz's Concerto for String Orchestra, and Witold Lutosławski's Concerto for Orchestra

It's a bright instrumental opening from the orchestra on the first [Bacewic] piece, which is an early indication that I am going to like the tune as a whole. I enjoy this as I assemble the ingredients for my potato hash - another recipe straight from the Joe Wicks playbook. As the music plays on I imagine it underscoring a Joan Crawford film.

A famous piece from Rachmaninov follows, but it's not one I am personally familiar with. To start with, my ears are impaired by the sizzling frying pan, microwave, and air-fryer, all working in trandem. The music itself comes as a suprise to start with, as it is not what I expected from a famous Rachmaninov Though I'm not sure what exactly it was I did expect.
    When the rush of the cooking and eating has subsided, suddenly the music comes to the fore, and I get the feeling I am softly cruising through a Monet painting - colourful trees and lily-padded brooks I see in my mind's eye, all conjured by the musical notes. It's quite a feat, so well done Rachmaninov!

Image: My cooking efforts tonight.

There's an interesting discussion during the interval about 'What is a concerto for orchestra as opposed to a symphony etc. It's a question I'm wondering about too, the answer being that a concerto for orchestra allows all orchestra members a 'chance to shine' with the extremes of what their instruments can do. Anyone and everyone can take a solo - potential good news for me, as a forever-adoring fan of the music of Eric Clapton.

Image: Enjoying the second half

As the show resumes I move from the kitchen to the living room, opting to listen via my TV set rather than the HiFi tonight. Witold Lutosławski's Concerto for Orchestra opens in epic style. Intensely suspenseful. Really like this! Yes, it's exciting, it makes your heart pace that little bit faster. It settles down with chronic chimes and sporadic flourishes from various woodwind instruments (at least that's what it sounds like). I chill out and let my mind wander.

Arooj Aftab and Ibrahim Maalouf

Arooj Aftab and Ibrahim Maalouf

BBC Proms 2025 at the Royal Albert Hall

This is a prom I have eagerly anticipated, as I am already a fan of Arooj Aftab's music, which I find deeply meditative. I first heard her song Raat Ki Rani on the radio about a year or two ago, and it prompted me to see her live in Manchester last autumn.

But first it's time for Ibrahim Maalouf, whose music I have never heard before. It's another 'capacity crowd' at the Royal Albert Hall tonight, and it quicky becomes clear why. Maalouf's music is energetic, and sounds great, particularly with support from the orchestra. He gently encourages some audience participation, and I wish I was there in the hall to soak up the atmosphere. I will now be on the lookout for any local tour dates he may have. Some of his later pieces remind me of Miles Davis-esque jazz. Apparently he has nineteen albums out, so it's bizarre how I have never heard of him before! 

Once again, during the interval I take the opportunity to wash the dishes. A bigger task than last night because I have made an effort tonight to cook myself a tasty stir fry. A recipe from one of Joe Wick's cookbooks (side note: big fan of his cook books - loads of tasty recipes for one!). As a time-filler on the radio, we are played a Arooj Aftab/Anouska Shankar collaboration, and the Shankar prom is another one I am very much excited for (more on that when it happens). What a pairing in Aftab/Shankar - cannot wait to discover more of their collaborations.

Image: Tonight's stir fry, by me.

For the second half, I simply let the music play and wash over me. I transition from the kitchen to the living room Hi-Fi, and I get my wish that Raat Ki Rani is played. All of it is sublime. It's transcendent. I could go on but I don't want to use up too many superlatives this early in the season.

 

Beethoven and Birtwistle

It's Monday evening. I have got over my Monday working day; always tough but I have found the energy to complete a 5k run after work, watch Coronation St on ITVX ahead of tonight's broadcast, and now I am free to attend an evening at the Royal Albert Hall, via BBC Radio 3, starting 19:30 hours.

Two composers: one I am not at all familiar with, and another one I am much more familiar with - I'll not insult your intelligence by indicating which one is which.

First up is Earth Dances by Harrison Birtwistle. It's a dark, unsettling opening. The presenter explains it's a full orchestra tonight, the sound of which is evident from the very beginning. Just what I like to hear!
The word 'unsettling' is sustained in my mind as the piece progresses. There are some suspenseful moments which would not be out of place in a edge-of-your-seat thriller movie.

I wash the dishes during the interval. Not a huge task tonight. Risking an accusation of inverted snobbery, I start wondering who of my fellow Radio 3 listeners have just enjoyed a beans-on-toast?

Image: AI-generated by Chat GPT

Beethoven's Eroica. Believe it or not, I have actually seen this piece played before. It was at the Liverpool Philharmonic Hall in, I think, the January or February of 2019 (just pre-lockdown, one notes now).

At the last part of the interval I catch in interesting informational nugget from the presenter. He tells us of a connection between Beethoven and Napoleon. Didn't know that! Chat GPT (my modern-day Ask Jeeves) confirms this in 'eroic fashion:

I ask:
"Is there a connection between Beethoven's Eroica and Napoleon?"

ChatGPT said:

Yes — there's a very strong historical connection between Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3, "Eroica", and Napoleon Bonaparte, though it turned sour in dramatic fashion.

---

🎼 The Background

• In the early 1800s, Beethoven greatly admired Napoleon.

• He saw him as a symbol of Enlightenment ideals — a leader who rose through merit, not nobility, and someone who might bring liberty and equality to Europe, in the spirit of the French Revolution.

---

📝 Original Dedication

• Beethoven initially dedicated his Symphony No. 3 to Napoleon.

• The symphony was even originally titled:

  "Bonaparte"
  (Beethoven's sketchbooks and letters confirm this.)

---

💥 The Turning Point

• In 1804, Napoleon declared himself Emperor of the French.

• Beethoven felt betrayed, seeing Napoleon as having abandoned the democratic ideals he once championed.

• According to Beethoven's pupil Ferdinand Ries:

  • When Beethoven heard the news, he tore the title page in anger, shouting:

    “So he is no more than a common mortal! Now he too will tread under foot all the rights of man, indulge only his ambition; now he will think himself superior to all men, become a tyrant!”

---

🎻 Final Title

• The symphony was published in 1806 with a new title:

  “Sinfonia Eroica, composta per festeggiare il sovvenire di un grand’uomo”
  (“Heroic Symphony, composed to celebrate the memory of a great man”)

• That “great man” was no longer Napoleon, but possibly an abstract ideal, or even a mourning of lost hope.

---

🧠 Why It Matters

• The Eroica is often seen as the beginning of the Romantic era in music.

• It reflects Beethoven’s internal struggles and ideals, not just political ones — a heroic journey through conflict, death (the funeral march), and eventual triumph.

------

Now it makes sense! ARL

Wigglesworth, Mozart and Bruckner

 Sunday evening and we, the Radio 3 audience, are back, from Gateshead, to our home venue: The Royal Albert Hall.

And tonight's theme, we are told, is music and memory. The first piece to be played is a world premiere of Ryan Wigglesworth's for Laura, after Bach. I'm really touched by the back story of this piece of music, which was composed in memory of Laura Samuel, who died aged just 48, having been the leader of BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. And it's a sad piece. Grand, but haunting.

Mozart begins as I hang out my pillow cases to dry. Impressive piano work as is so typical of Mozart. (Just remembered - this is a piano concerto, isn't it. No wonder!). After a round of applause the encore is another piano-centric piece by Liszt. Very nice!

During the interval, we listening on Radio 3 are offered a teaser of what is to come on Tuesday. Namely the music of Arooj Aftab. I am already familiar with her work so I am very much looking forward to that one.

Finally, I relish the moment of listening to a composer [Anton Bruckner] I have absolutely no familiarity with. Naturally, the style of the piece is novel to my ear. I pour myself a small Scotch and water, and raise a glass to the weekend past.

Image: Pixabay.com

Sean Shibe and Friends (Glasshouse)

 It's Sunday afternoon and I am in full flow of my weekly chores. The food shop for the week ahead has been done, a couple of washing machine loads have spun, and I have trimmed the hedges on my driveway. I am doing my best to coordinate the chaos of clothes in every corner of my house.

Not only is it time for this afternoon's Prom, but also time for a bite to eat. Thus far, it's just the filter coffee and chocolate brownie I had at Ness Gardens with my family earlier in the day. There are some eggs and avocado left over from last week, so I decide on these on toast for a late lunch.

Image: Pixabay.com

We are back to Gateshead this afternoon, and with a name familar from a Prom earlier in the week: Sean Shibe. This time he is in his usual acoustic guise, playing a lovely classical guitar piece (12 Caprices by James Dillon) to start.

Next up is Bel canto, sung by Cassandra Miller. It's a bit zany, and puts me in mind of some of Yoko Ono's work which, if I'm honest, isn't my cup of tea.

The interval is filled for us radio listeners by a bit of Debussy, and we hear from Pierre Boulez via the BBC archives, as a taster of what is to come in the second half.

From the beginning, it is clear that Le marteau sans maître is going to be another erratic piece. It sounds like a cloud of flute, glockenspiel, and the odd string arc. Each to their own, but to me it is too abstract to understand. Not something I would listen to for personal enjoyment, I'm afraid!

Bach and Mendelssohn in Gateshead

The third and (thankfully) final of today's proms on BBC Radio 3. I say thankfully only because it has been a near-seven hour shift today. Fortunately this one features two of my favourite composers, Bach and Mendelssohn.

I am back in the kitchen, and my ears are impaired by the spin of my washing machine, and my air fryer baking a Higgidy steak and ale pie (which I later pair with a can of Vimto zero - it is Saturday after all).

In Gateshead with the Royal Northern Symphonia, Bach's Keyboard Concerto in D minor certainly does start off heavy on the keyboard. Indeed, you can't move for the keys virtuosity in this piece of music.

During the interval, I think I catch the announcer saying that the conductor, Dinis Sousa, claims Bach as his favourite composer since childhood. This is something we have in common, though I would wager we took a different route. Chuckles at the Hamlet cigar commercials were my way in.

The second half is Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 2 in B flat major, and this showcases some beautiful movements on the strings, leading to grand choral works from the Hudderfield Choral Society.

I finish my tea and soak up the glory of this final piece of the day!

Angeline Morrison: The Sorrow Songs

It's half past five, I am just getting over this afternoon's Traitors prom at the RAH, but now it is back up to Gateshead.

Angeline Morrison delivers the Black British story in the medium of folk music arrangements. This prom immediately takes me back a few years, to 2020 and 2021, when Black Lives Matter became hotly topical as a result of the brutal murder of George Floyd. At the time, I became deeply engrossed in Black British history, joining walking tours through the city of Liverpool, and I saw a wholly new side to the city I thought I already knew inside out. Indeed, the race riots of 1919 are described later in this programme; the blue plaque to Charles Wooton was just one of the many landmarks I visited 'during covid'.

Morrison offers a lullaby for lost babies, championing the story of the 'Unknown African Boy,' the vocals and instrumentation are lilting and undulating. We hear of Black history in Wales in the guise of 'Black John' - the first Black British horticulturist.

'The Beautiful Spotted Black Boy' tells a story of an enslaved child exhibited as a curiosity, as was the tradition of the time. The accordion accompaniment adds to the circus theme.

At the moment, there are too many other stories to give them all the absorption they deserve, but when I finish this Proms marathon I will definitely be coming back to visit Angeline Morrison's album of the same name, to give each my full attention and cognition.

And to conclude this post, my own thoughts on the proms and diversity: 

The proms audience demographic is, let's face it, an elitist realm populated by the white middle classes. There are - of course, and quite rightly - deliberate efforts being made to increase diversity of the proms performers (what did the artist roster look like 50 years ago compared to now, one wonders?). But what of the audiences? Only when we see the same amount of diversity here will we truly know progress. 

The Traitors Prom

I am cruising along the M53 when this afternoon's performance begins. 

We start off with Ave Maria, and I chuckle to myself, not being able to think of anything but that episode of Father Ted (IYKYK).

Tonight it is The Traitors prom. It is a global phenomenon we are told, but unfortunately I am one of the  uninitiated. From what I can gather, it's a bit like Takeshi's Castle for the culturally-enriched. It's set in a Scottish castle, and you are either a Traitor or a Faithful, on a quest to swipe a bag of gold at the top of the tower. Sounds a bit like Hex at Alton Towers?

Really liked the opening number. Sleek, modern, exciting. It ends with one of my favourite of all ceremonial instruments - the bagpipes.

While I'm not yet on board with whether I am a Traitor or a Faithful, there is one deadly sin that I succumb to when I hear the opening dongs of Saint-Saens' Danse Macabre: Jealousy. Why oh why did I not book to see this prom live? By this time I am pulling into my driveway, and I keep the engine running while this symphonic poem plays out.

I switch off in haste when a Britany Spears' cover follows, but only to run into the living room to hook up BBC sounds to my hifi via bluetooth. 

The rest of the first half is a bit of a blur as I nurse my wound of missing out on the opportunity to witness Danse Macabre live. But there is a excerpt from Puccni's Tosca; an opera I remember seeing at Liverpool's St George's Hall back in, I think, 2019.

By the time the second half beings I am a bit more relaxed, sitting on my sofa with laptop on lap, typing this up as I try to listen and interpret in real time. We sway from choral to modern mixes. I confess that I'm finding it hard to get on board with 'the game', being more focused on the music itself. Finding it difficult to keep up with the music coming up ad hoc, with no published guide to help me out. But, in any case, may the music play! I'll enjoy listening to the rest of the murders as I put a load in the washing machine.

JADE & Royal Northern Sinfonia

JADE with the Royal Northern Sinfonia, conducted by Robert Ames

Image: Pixabay.com

From the Royal Albert Hall in London, to the Glasshouse in Gateshead, all via the wizardry of Radio 3. Unlike the Albert Hall, I have, with much regret, never seen a show at the Glasshouse. But I do of course recognise it's architecture as a staple of the North East.

I am not familiar with any of JADE's repertoire, nor anything of Little Mix. But her cover of Madonna's Frozen is cracking, and her introduction of her own song Plastic Box hits a nerve - I listen to the lyrics intently.

The crowd and the atmosphere (from what I can decipher on the kitchen radio), reminds me much of the old Proms in the Park, which I was fortunate enough to attend back in 2017. I'm getting pleasant flashbacks of watching Steps, Texas, et al, at Hyde Park, with an old mate who has since graduated to the great concert in the sky.

It's a lovely orchestral introduction to Set You Free (N-Trance song), which flashes me back to childhood in the 1990's.

Who knew pop music could evoke such existential reflections?

Thank you, and good night!

Beethoven's Fifth, Bruckner's Skull, and a bit o' Saint-Saens!

Beethoven's Fifth, Bruckner's Skull, and a bit o' Saint-Saens!

Very exciting prom for me this Friday night, because not only is it going to feature the most famous piece of classical music ever (well, the opening is at least, isn't it?), but it is also going to feature one of my all-time favourite composers - Camille Saint-Saens - in the form of his piano concerto No. 5 in F Major, 'Egyptian'.

Image created with  Chat GPT.

Tonight is the tenth concert from London, and it's the Scottish Chamber Orchestra this evening. I am almost late to the Albert Hall as I have forgotten about the earlier start time of 18:30. But despite this I do reach for my kitchen radio's power on button just in the nick of time, with less than two minutes to spare. I'm back on the microwave meal for one; this evening's offering being a chicken tikka masala from Lidl's Deluxe range. I pair this with some stilton (left over from this weeks salads), on Scottish oatcakes.

The programme opens with some French baroque to start. It's a piece called Les Indes galantes, by composer Jean‐Philippe Rameau. To me does sound typical baroque: very mellow and pleasant, with the typical harpsichord glangs and brass bursts that so define the period.

Next up it's Saint-Saens, whom I really do love to bits (I would pay Oasis prices to see a Danse Macabre live). And yes, this piano concerto does, to my ear at least, scream of his style: emotional rollercoaster highs and lows, crisp piano notes, gentle woodwind reminders, and all underscored by breathtaking acceleration on the strings.

I did predict that Alfred Hitchcock would once more come to my mind, but I didn't think happen again so soon! So it comes to pass with Bruckner’s Skull by Jay Capperauld. On the opening I can't help but be reminded of the atmospheric 'stabbing' noises of Psycho; but these ones are not as intense, and rather fit with the general death theme as opposed to murder. If I was blindfolded to the background of the piece, the word 'revenge' would spring to my own mind. There are really interesting motifs later in the song that remind me of Jerry Goldsmith's score from the 1990 film Total Recall. Incidentally, Goldsmith is another of my all-time faves.

And then, the one we've all been waiting for: Beethoven's Fifth! 'Nuff said!

Mischief Night

The Royal Albert Hall

 Thursday night is mischief night at the BBC proms, it seems. Once again I step into South Kensington through my kitchen radio as I prepare my evening’s repast. Not one to waste ingredients, it is a salad again tonight featuring beetroot, potato, Stilton, and Linda McCartney sausages.

Tonight it’s the BBC symphony orchestra. We start off with Stravinsky, and the Song of the Nightingale. My mind is immediately taken to Hitchcock’s film The Birds. Not for the first time this season have I envisaged Hitchcock (doubt it’ll be the last). The piece itself is apparently based on a fable featuring a Chinese emperor and a small bird. I try to keep this story in mind as I listen, and I notice at times that it does settle into a benign, gentle birdsong feel, as well as more chaotic turns.

Next it’s Mendelssohn’s violin concerto in E minor. Can’t think of much, except to say that it is beautifully played, and note perfect. A fine piece, and the audience clearly agree with me judging by the ovationary applause. There is a brief encore of, I think, Por Una Cabeza - which always makes me think of the film True Lies.

During the interval I am getting my bag and work clothes laid out for tomorrow morning, and I pick out some words about toilet humour…defecation, turds, farting etc. Didn’t quite pick up on where it fits, but I think it’s got something to do with Till Eulenspiegel, whom we’ll hear via Strauss shortly.

Next it’s a European premiere of Antony Davis’s Tales (Tails) of the Signifying Monkey. I thought this may have been a cheeky farce, but instead comes across rather sneaky and sinister. An interesting, gorgeous interweaving of notes - very reflective of the theme.

Finally it’s a chaotic piece by Strauss. I note the percussion sounds like trampoline boings at one point, and it moves around some grand fanfares. I’ve just looked up Till Eulenspiegel, and yes it was him they were talking about out in the interval. According to Wikipedia he was a fabled practical joker, and his surname possibly interpreted via German folklore as ‘wipe arse’.

Boulez and Berio - late night prom

 

Photo: screenshot from BBC Radio 3 Instagram stories

This may have been a prom where physical attendance at the Royal Albert Hall would have been more beneficial to soak up the atmosphere. We’re told by the presenter that the hall is in complete darkness, and it’s only later on Instagram stories that I see the trombonist in his full clown regalia.

As it is, I tune in from the portable DAB radio in my bedroom. The show starts off with a haunting trombone solo - lots of rips and tears. Could almost have been hooked up to a Wah Wah effect. Like a distorted morse code, such is Berio’s Sequenza V!

Next we move to Boulez, which is a tune in a similar vein. I guessed the instrument was a clarinet, and I’m pleased to get my thoughts confirmed when looking up the playbill.

Back to Berio, and this one has more layers in the form of vocals and harpsichord flourishes. I struggled to catch all of the words with my radio being on low volume, but it seemed to flit from French to English, and back again. Zany, nightmarish. A collection of existential crises. Traditionally, these are the things I try to avoid before bed.

French Night

Discipline was the order of the day today, because this evening’s prom broadcast will start at 18:30, and hour earlier than previous days. Cycle home from work and 5k run done, then eggs ans avocado on toast prepared ahead of the show. 

Tonight is French Night at the proms, but ironically we open up with Ravel’s Rapsodie Espagnole, because apparently he had a penchant for all things Spanish. A nice saccharine movement; the trills, if that’s the correct term, put me in mind of a Disney/Cinderella fantasy.

Next up is a piece older than Ravel, by a composer called Joseph Bologne. I’m really interested to hear the history of this French composer, who was born in colonial France to a plantation owner and his enslaved wife. Need to look up more details about him when I get time. American violinist Randall Goosby makes his proms debut on this violin concerto in G major, and I really enjoy the way his playing blends with the Orchestre National de France, at whole. 

During the internal I move from the kitchen/diner, and hook up BBC Sounds to the hifi in the living room. 

Danse mystique is a lovely piece, and in the nicest possible way I am starting to drift in and out of  consciousness on the settee. Blissfully, as my strict routine from this week catches up with me. 

 I’m triggered by the back story of the next piece, which is called Poeme and has something to do with love triangles. The radio presenter describes a story of two men in love, one being successful and the other gracefully goes off travelling. I have a flash thought about my next world voyage. It’s a great piece of music by Ernest Chausson - it would be a fit retort for when someone says ‘I’ll get my violin out.’

We end as we began, with a bit of Ravel. Le valse sounds a bit more French, and now there’s just enough time to catch Coronation Street on ITV1+1 before the late night prom tonight.

And so it’s not goodbye, but Au revoir!

Strauss, Simpson, and Berlioz

General photo of the RAH by me. 

Just as last night, I enter the Royal Albert Hall via Radio 3 in my kitchen. Tonight, though, the microwave is unplugged and I am quietly preparing one of my ‘go to’ salads. 

We kick off with Strauss’s ‘Death and transfiguration’. The music itself seems pleasant enough (is that the point?). Just prior to tuning in this evening, the news of Ozzy Osbourne’s death popped up on my phone. All my social media feeds are awash with the news, and it is this that I have reverberating through my head. So - even if I cant sense the narcotic theme through the instrumentation - I’m still getting it. Add to this the pink-red staining on my hands and splatted all over my kitchen sink, as I drain the beetroot (not a euphemism).

Next up is the world premiere of Mark Simpson’s ZEBRA. And this is where it gets interesting for me, because it’s going to feature electric guitar - my own instrument! I’m a Clapton man myself, but I’m wondering if Sean Shibe’s playing is drawing influence from another of my guitar heroes, the late great Jeff Beck? Certainly sounds like; his playing is transcendent and I’m now starting to feel the hallucinogenics. 

I pick up a bit of Bladerunner philosophy during the interval, but not being familiar with the franchise (I know, I know… it’s on the list), this sadly falls on deaf ears.

Last but not least it’s the Symphonie Fantastique by Hector Berlioz. I’m still a bit giddy from the electric guitar, and once again I’m struggling to catch on to the dark narcotic feel of this piece (sounds nice enough?!). More than anything though, I’m wondering why I haven’t heard of Berlioz before (thought he was a modern-day composer before looking him up - is that bad?)

Mahler, and Monolgues for the Curious

Tonight marked a shift in my attendance at the proms, as I gladly welcomed the Royal Albert Hall into my back kitchen via BBC Radio 3.

I was unsure what to expect, but I would actually say the absence of the visuals sort of enhanced the experience!

The introductory preamble was muted somewhat by my meal-for-one finishing off in the microwave [a co-op irresistible chicken and chorizo paella that I picked up on my lunch break this afternoon - my Monday routine being somewhat skewered by arriving back from London at 10pm last night].

It’s the BBC philharmonic orchestra this evening (note to self: must once again look up the distinction between concert, philharmonic, and symphony orchestras).

We start off with a proms premiere, Tom Coult’s Monologues for the Curious. And I have to say I am very curious when I hear the music has been inspirited by the writings of MR James. I am familiar with the author’s Christmas ghost stories, so this is surely going to be something dark, erratic, and a bit confusing? The Jamesian imagery certainly came out in the music, and I felt a resoance with my own mood as I sat alone, tucking into my microwaved fare.

Next up we have Gustav Mahler’s Symphony no. 7. The opening, to my untrained mind, sounded heavy on the big-end brass, and akin to the opening of an early Hitchcock movie. The piece then moves on to some more subtle nuances, and minuscule fanfares. A bit later on I get the feeling of being lost in a forest, and as it progressed I jotted down some things without trying to think about it. They were, in order:

1) A troubled peace

2) Some pomp and a grand statement

3) A confusion between it all.

And that was that. I wonder if my learned friends were as blissfully confused as I was?

Shostakovich, Ravel, and Walton

I had to watch this broadcast in a hybrid manner: when it began at 8pm I still had another hour left of my return coach journey to Liverpool. Fortunately I have a generous data plan on my phone, so watching live on my tablet was not a problem, as long as the signal held up on the motorway. Luckily it did, so I was able to watch the first hour live. I caught up with the rest on iplayer when I

got home.

Tonight’s prom opened up with what I’d call a ‘jolly romp’ of Shostakovich. I have no idea if proper music aficionados would share my interpretation, but that’s what it was to my ear. Very pleasant indeed, and I’ve always paused to listen to this suite when it gets played on the radio.

Next up was the inspirational Nicholas McCarthy, playing Ravel’s piano concerto for left hand. I was glad to learn of the history of the piece, having being composed by Ravel specifically for pianist Paul Wittgenstein, who had lost his right arm during the First World War. 

It was great to hear McCarthy’s enthusiasm for opening up classical music to a broader audience, which he spoke of during his interview after the performances.

The Bournemouth symphony orchestra blasted out the show with William Walton’s epic and energetic symphony no. 1.

I only wished I could have still been in London to have witnessed this prom live. Alas, my Monday is calling!

Vivaldi and Bach

Sunday 20th July 2025

11am The Royal Albert Hall

An 11am matinee prom - probably the earliest time I’ve ever attended the RAH for a concert in all the years I’ve been attending rock concerts there. At first I thought the hall was not going to fill up in the same way it had done the night before, but more people continued to pour in, and it looked like nearly a full house.

Before the musicians took to stage, the first thing I noticed was that the empty space on the stage benches - in other words, this was not going to be a full orchestra, but centered rather on just string instruments and a harpsichord. I’m not sure what this outfit is called, but I recognise it as typical of interpreting the baroque (Vivaldi/ Bach) period.

The show started with the main man, Théotime Langlois de Swarte, standing at the top of the stage area, playing some solo violin to begin, soon being joined by the rest of Le Consort. I am reminded of just how well the Royal Albert Hall’s acoustic set up allows for this type of music: every nuance of soft pizzicato can be heard a crisp.

Many of the pieces - although by famous composers - I had not heard of, but I enjoyed them all the same. Each was played with elegance and, as already mentioned, the hall’s acoustics enabled every person in the room to hear every note, regardless of where they were sitting.

Of course, the one I had been waiting for was the mega-famous opening of Summer, from Vivaldi’s four seasons. As this was playing I took a quick look away from the stage and at the hall as a whole - a very powerful moment.

There was a lovely melancholic encore, along with a reprise of Summer - which pleased the entire room! 

Samara Joy

Always fun to attend the Royal Albert Hall in person, and tonight was no exception. I love the place, and I’m seldom happier than when I stroll across Kensington Gardens from my hotel, to reach the RAH, where, invariably, I am in for a night of world-class entertainment.

Arrived at the Albert Hall ahead of time. Outside I was handed a ‘newspaper’ and sticker by everythingjazz.com. I happily accepted.  

I had just enough time to peruse the proms and RAH merchandise in the foyer. Picked up my ‘must-have’ proms guide - a nice heavy yellow book priced £9.99, and also the programme for tonight’s specific entertainment (£7). 

Notes on the venue:

Tonight I was sat in Rausing circle P, row 3, seat 1. The weather outside was muggy and humid - typical July - and I did struggle to cool down inside the hall. I noticed a few fellow prommers fanning themselves with programmes.

Not that that took away any of the magic of the show:

For the show itself:

Well, what a night of sublime jazz at the RAH last night! In this run I had to chose one weekend when I could afford to attend the proms in person, and I don’t regret choosing this weekend.

I had not heard of Samara Joy before, but I am sure her name will be one to remember. Just 25 years old, she has a voice and stage presence way ahead of her years. 

It is hard to pick a favourite song because it was, honestly, all stand out. If there was a stronger half, I would say it was the second (cue outfit change, from white to red!)

Sticking in my memory are the Billy Holliday and Duke Ellington covers, the 5 (was it?) shades of love, and the encore.

And encore, I say!

 

Introduction

My name is Andy Lewis, and in 2016 I attended one of the proms at the Royal Albert Hall. It was prom 48: Matthius Pintscher and Mendelssohn: https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b07pdz6f

Image: BBC

The Royal Albert Hall is no stranger to me. I have attended many rock concerts there over the years, but this was the first classical/orchestral concert I had seen there.

I remember being taken by the format of the Proms, and I liked how there was an allocation of standing tickets that one could purchase on the day, with people choosing to stand, sit, kneel, and even lie down to listen to the music, as long as the space allowed. 

I had a fantasy of - one day - living in central London and attending the entire season of the proms. I would walk out my front door every day, and carelessly stroll to the hall to listen to that days offering - just like any respectable man about town would do. Alas, that lottery win has not yet come to pass. Even if it did, chances of having enough time to attend every concert physically would be an ambitions one. That’s why, this year - with an empty diary throughout most of July, August, and September, I have set myself a challenge to “attend” every prom via broadcast; whether TV or radio.

To make the occasion more meaningful, I have booked a couple of proms to attend in person, and I have decided to keep a record (this blog) of my lay-person’s musings and thoughts on each event. I have no formal education in music, but I probably know (just about) enough to hold my own. 

Hope you enjoy my accounts!

Andy

First Night of the Proms

Ironically, I wasn’t able to watch the first night of the proms as it was going out live, because I was double booked! I had booked to go see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at the Liverpool Empire.

So it was that I watched the broadcast on a National Express coach (on my way down to see the second night in person), using my trusty Lenovo tablet. 

It was fitting that Mendelssohn opened the first night, because it was his theme to a midsummer nights dream that I had seen back in 2016, at my one and only previous proms attendance.

My only prior encounter of Sibelius was from my time of using the eponymous computer software in GSCE music at high school. As it turns out, there is more to discover about the Finnish composer; not least of all that he apparently had a penchant for violins.

His concerto is apparently famous for being a tough outing on the soloist. Hearing the piece, I can understand why, but it is played to perfection by Lisa Batiashvili. I am particularly impressed with her handspan across the instrument, and the vibratos played on the higher registers.

Next up is a living composer whom I’ve never heard of. Errollyn Wallen is interviewed by the BBC presenters, and I’m interested to learn about her composing routine, and that she is the resident composer for his Maj the king of England, no less. In any case, I really like her piece of music that is played, which I can understand has been put together in context of abstract shapes and colours. I’m keen to know more about her music when I get time!

Finally the Vaughn Williams piece, which I think is an opera sung in English. By this time my bus journey has been dragging on a bit, and my concentration is starting to wane slightly despite my best efforts. Nonetheless, I notice the nicely coordinated outfit colours of the choir, and can only praise this opening night of the season!