Royal Albert Hall
It's Sunday morning, and this is the first of three Proms today. Christ almighty, I thought Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest, or does that not apply to the wicked? I start playing the Prom in the afternoon on BBC Sounds, while I am driving at a snail's pace on a heavily-congested M56. I need to pop into the office to collect my laptop and shoes, as I will be training it up to Edinburgh tomorrow to present at a hospital there.
And this morning, too, we are on our travels. Musically speaking, that is. We are going to Rome, Paris, and London.
I have never been to Rome [nor Italy at all - but, as I think I mentioned earlier in the run, it is high on the list]. This Pines of Rome by Ottorino Respighi opens up and it is pure magic. It's bright. Goes more relaxing/peaceful. A tasty piece.
For any fellow Charles Dickens fans, the Darius Milhaud's Le boeuf sur le toit [The Ox on the Roof], is full of jollity - my own mind pictures old Fezziwig's works Christmas party from A Christmas Carol.
After the interval we have the main attraction, which is Ralph Vaughan Williams's Symphony No. 2, AKA 'A London Symphony'. [I note it's //RAFE// Williams, as opposed to Rallf].
What do I think of this, then? At first I sense the cliched dark opening, played with slow, low strings. Must be a winter's night in the capital. So he knows the city's dark side. We then get some tasteful grandeur, we must be passing through the terraces of gentry. I am starting to get the feeling that I am sitting in a Hackney on a tour of the city.
It goes gentle. Must be springtime in one of the royal parks. I’ll pick Hyde Park as it’s my favourite, and also because it’s in the vicinity of the Royal Albert Hall – and we couldn’t be anywhere better than that.
I later get the sense that we are peering over a spectacular view of the city, seeing the outline of its many buildings and areas - a million stories playing out in front of us. I will bet our vantage point is either from Greenwich Park, or that view one gets at the top of the hill at Hampstead Heath.
There's a subtle clock chime... one we ALL know. Not sure how to write it, but it goes like this: Dom-dom-dom-dom....dom-dom-dom-dom. Big Ben?
To summarise: seldom, if ever, have I been so on board with what the composer was trying to do. Maybe it's because I've roamed the streets of London so much in my adult life, making me aware of all its glories and foibles. I don't know what it is, but it's a triumph in music. I will be listening to this symphony once again, in isolation, at my earliest opportunity.
Image created with ChatGPT.
