Grieg’s Piano Concerto

Grieg’s Piano Concerto

Royal Albert Hall

It's the final of today's three Proms, and the mental fatigue is cutting deep. I got through the two earlier Proms on BBC Sounds a few hours behind their live broadcasts, and I had just eight minutes to spare before switching to Radio 3 for this live broadcast from the Royal Albert Hall, starting at the usual 19:30 hours.

It's Petroc [Terlawny] presenting tonight, so I know I'm in safe hands. But wait a second, what is this interference? It sounds like a hall of mirrors, where the audio is repeating itself into infinity. Is it my radio signal? I turn it off and back on again, and when I return there is a a calm announcement saying something like 'we apologise for the disruption and here is some nice Bach music to soothe you.' Don't tell me it's a repeat of the MSO protests the other week? Seems like it was just a blip in the radio broadcast, and we are soon back on track, just in time for the music to start.

We begin this evening with Ruth Gipps's Death on the Pale Horse. It’s bleak to begin with, but, with a title like that, it’s to be expected. The imagery is on point, without doubt.

Next we have Lukas Sternath playing Grieg's Piano Concerto. In my most predictable quip of the season, I will declare that he manages to play all the right notes, and in all the right places. As I have already alluded to, Grieg is one of my favourites. This piano concerto offers some dramatic bromides which, while arguably not matching the intensity of the likes of Tchaikovsky's No.1, has a flavour all of its own. It's the unmistakable flavour of Grieg, and that sits on my palette like Dairy Milk.

After the interval it is The Beatitudes by Arthur Bliss. For starters, it is like we're lost in a vast forest. The weather ain't too great, either. Just had a look at the BBC Website, which says it is 'a cantata composed for the reopening in 1962 of Coventry Cathedral – part Passion, part howl of human loss, part musical prayer for a ‘troubled world’. I did already recount my school trip to Coventry cathedral in one of my earlier blogs [can't remember which one!], so I won't bother regurgitating it here. 

Photo: Pixabay.com

Golda Schultz Sings Gershwin and Bernstein

Golda Schultz Sings Gershwin and Bernstein
Royal Albert Hall

It's Saturday night, and I'm half cut. Had a pint and a half of Guniness at the Irby Club with my Dad and brother, and washing it down with my new friend, the Ayinger dunkel, a bottle of which I purchased at the Crafty Tavern earlier this evening. And I can't enjoy a dark ale without a bag of Maltesers and a Wispa. 

Anyone expecting a cerebral analysis of this evening's offerings at the Royal Albert Hall have come to the wrong place. But that won't stop me giving it a go. Incidentally, I am listening to this on BBC Sounds, about an hour behind the live broadcast on BBC Radio 3.

Tonight it is the Chamber Orchestra of Europe, and they will be playing a veritable selection of numbers. Joining them for a couple is Golda Schultz, a soprano singer. 

The first piece played is Franz Schreker's Chamber Symphony. It does not put a foot wrong.

Next we have 'By Strauss' - a composition by George Gershwin [you've no idea how long it took to get my head round that one]. This is where Golda Schultz comes in, and I'm taken aback by her vocals. I'm not actually sure what my ear was expecting from a 'soprano,' but I don't think it was quite this. It's got a Julie Andrews resonance to it, which is surely something to celebrate. And there's something near the end that reminds me of  Oom-Pah-Pah from the 1960 musical, Oliver! 

To tell you the truth, these resonate vocals are casting me back to the Viennese Waltzes Prom, earlier in the season. That is not a bad thing!

There's an edition Summertime from the opera Porgy and Bess by George Gershwin. Good grief, was that that Gershwin?! Thought it was Lana Del Ray? [Joking aside, Lana has done a pleasurable variation of this]. 

After the interval I pick up on Somewhere from West Side Story - watched that a couple of Christmases ago. 

Stravinsky's Firebird is neither here nor there.

Photo by me, 20th July 2025,

Chineke! plays Shostakovich

Chineke! plays Shostakovich
Royal Albert Hall

There has been a reprise of the clement weather this Friday, after a couple of days of sketchy showers. Cycled in to work again, and managed a 5k run afterwards. Not bad!

Tonight at the BBC Proms we have the Chineke! orchestra, which is an orchestra of all ethnically diverse musicians. A good concept, one which I'm all for. In Britain, we have made great strides in the last few years, in the recognition that we have not done enough to champion diversity, particularly in the notoriously exclusive realm of classical music. Though let us not kid ourselves into thinking that our job here is done and we now rest on our laurels. To once again give my tuppence to the topic of classical music and inclusivity: have a flick through your programme for this evening's entertainment and it will give the game away. I'll wager my hundred-grand Steinway that the advertising features will comprise preparatory and boarding schools, cruise holidays, and retirement flats on the King's Road going for two mill. I cower to wonder who the target audience for these ads is, but it's nobody I know. There's plenty of money in Formula 1 and premier league football, but their sponsors are limited to the likes of Burger King and Carlsberg.

In other news, I have now (provisionally) ordered my ticket to the Last Night of the Proms! Not over the moon about resorting to ViaGoGo for a profiteering £211, but I snatched the best resale price I've seen so far. There's no hope for me in bagging a ticket on the day, because I'll be sitting on a bus when the Promming tickets go on sale (assuming they do that for the Last Night?), with only a temperamental phone signal to rely on. Similarly, I don't mind losing the money if I save myself the embarrassment of roaming outside the hall begging anyone who'll lend a sympathetic ear to me:

    'But I've done this thing where I listened to every Prom and blogged about it!'

    'A likely story... Officer, can you help us over here please?!'

    So a re-sale ticket it is - just hope for no nasty surprises when I arrive at the Royal Albert Hall on the night🤞

I should probably get onto the music, shouldn't I?

The first piece is by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor. Now, I have heard of this chap before. I *think* it was from watching Lenny Henry's BBC documentary on Black classical music [Black Classical Music: The Forgotten History] a couple of years ago. I'm sure I recorded it on DVD when it was on - must root that out again sometime soon. This piece, The Bamboula, has something regal about it. Don't misunderstand me, it's not 'ceremonial' as such, but... sterling? Really, really like this. Absolutely terrific!

The second piece is Fanfare for Uncommon Times by Valerie Coleman. This one is much more modern, having been composed during the covid lockdowns. The woodwind and strings have left the stage, we are told, with just the brass and percussion left on - so that doesn't bode well. But it's not too bad, you know. As I'm listening I'm trying to think of where I was first introduced to this instrumental style. It comes to me - Hetty Wainthropp Investigates!

Next up it is Visions of Cahokia by James Lee III. Not so keen on this one when it opens, but it gets better. Much better! Builds up brilliantly, and there's a light suspense to it in my mind, even if it wasn't  the composer's intention.

After the interval it is the Shostakovich which, once again, is a rather unpleasant listen. But that is not to say the music itself is inherently unpleasant. The Radio 3 presenter sums it up as 'Forty-eight minutes of terror, two minutes of triumph.' I am completely on board with this assessment, even clocking when the triumphant part kicks in at the end!

I had already become a casual fan of Shostakovich over the last few years, via the ditties that get played on Classic FM. This BBC Proms run has snagged my curiosity of him, and I'm keen to learn more. Alexander Armstrong always sounds giddy when he announces a 'Shostakovich' [I can hear his voice now], and I am beginning to understand why.

András Schiff Plays Bach

András Schiff Plays Bach
Royal Albert Hall

The first of four Proms today. It's going to be tough to keep on top of it all, and my brain isn't capable of retaining this volume of material all in one go. Handy, then, that this morning's Prom at the Royal Albert Hall is a single piece of music, and it's by my probably-favourite composer, Bach (though he does face stern competition from Saint-Saens, Vivaldi, and Grieg).

I've just left the Botanic Kitchen at Ness Gardens, which is where I am to be found nearly every Saturday morning, having coffee with my parents, uncle, siblings, and niece. The music starts when I'm in the car. It's a piano solo, I think. Doesn't seem to be any other instruments. [is it a piano duo?]. And my God, it's divine! Bach always comes up with the goods. I could listen to it all day, which is just as well considering the length of the piece.

I transition form the car to the living room at my parents' house, and allow myself to drift into a semi-unconsciousness as the music plays. It's that type of music, but it does seem to end a bit abruptly and this jolts me from my state of rest. Apparently the last part of the manuscript was lost, so the piece is incomplete. Surely a tragedy felt to this day.

According to the BBC website, Sir András Schiff [the bloke playing the piano], has commented: ‘The greatest work by the greatest composer who ever lived.’ He could well be right.

Beethoven’s Ninth

Beethoven’s Ninth
Royal Albert Hall

In a surprising contrast to last night, it is not I, but the proceedings at the Royal Albert Hall, that are running late. Arrivals from Radio 3 are played some pleasant time fillers until they're ready to take us in.

First up it's Bent Sørensen's Evening Land. Starts with tranquil stings, though they're struggling to get off the ground. It's quite eerie to tell you the truth. Must have been a tumultuous night that Sørensen is describing.

Next up it's Anna Clyne's The Years, and there's absolutely a feel of 'As Time Goes By', as the choral work sets in. "Where does the bloody time go?" is a question I oft ask myself. A bit later, the instrumentation offers up some really sharp twists and - fittingly for tonight - I get a flash of one of my favourite TV programmes, namely Inside No. 9. [Side note: looks like there's a good article about 'The Curse of the Ninth' in my BBC Proms guide - must have a proper read of that when I get chance].

As part of my job, I call hospitals on the telephone on a daily basis. One particular hospital has set a permanent 'all our users are currently busy' message on their main line, and it plays you a nice piece of classical music while you wait. I was hanging on this line one day, about a year or two ago now, and I really liked the music. But I didn't know what it was, and needed to find out. So imagine, if you will, the time when I put my work phone on loud-speaker, and opened up the Sound Hound app on my personal phone, allowing it to take a listen to the weak and distorted tune on the other line. After a few failed attempts it finally caught the hook - it identified the music as Beethoven's Ninth, and such was my introduction to this extraordinary work. [Incidentally, the excerpt I heard on the phone was the opening of the second movement.]

I'd be here all night trying to drag out the right words to describe this 60+ minute symphony, so I'll leave on this final reflection:

During the interval, Anna Clyne is asked why she thinks Beethoven is still THE composer, even after all this time? I can't remember what she said now [I'm sure it was a good answer], but my own opinion on the matter boils down to this simple concept: his work ebbs and flows with almost the same fluidity as mother nature.

Image created with ChatGPT.

Sibelius, Tippett, Ravel, and Debussy

Edward Gardner Conducts the LPO:
Sibelius, Tippett, Ravel, and Debussy at the Royal Albert Hall

On the whole, the music from this evening's prom is relaxed and gentle. We start with Sibelius's The Oceanides. The seascapes come across soft and clear.

The second piece (The Rose Lake by Michael Tippett), follows in the same vein. Very relaxing. The only thing is, I am listening on the motorway aboard a National Express coach, and the juxtaposition is too much to bear. I'm wishing the music would liven up a little.

Arriving back at Liverpool One bus station, I pause the music and resume it in my car. Finally, the Debussy, I enjoy in the living room when I'm back home. The perfect antidote to all the chaos of the day. I was thinking La Mer may have been the same one played at my great-uncle Henry's funeral in 2021, but that was the Charles Trenet version. 

Image: Pixabay.com

Dvořák’s ‘New World’ Symphony (Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra)

 Dvořák’s ‘New World’ Symphony (Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra)

Tonight is something of a spiritual homecoming for me, as the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra  take to the stage of the Royal Albert Hall. The Liverpool Philharmonic is 'my local'. Indeed, I once went out on a date with a fine young lady from this troupe around Christmas 2021. Alas, we parted ways amicably but with no second date to arrange. I wonder if she is on duty at the Albert Hall this evening? I notice on the BBC website that this prom is part of 'Proms on TV', so maybe I'll find out upon broadcast.

The music kicks off with gusto. It's a modern piece - a European premiere, no less - called An American Port of Call. It's a bit chaotic, but in a controlled manner, if that makes sense? My mind imagines constellations of stars. We're teased with the clarinet to wonderful effect.

The second piece, Blue Cathedral, is a bit sadder. I'm getting images of walking down a rainy street, alongside a set of Victorian-style street lamps.

The Concierto de otoño is a quirky number, taking us on a journey, I believe, via four trumpets.

I don't catch the name of the next performance (is it an extension of the previous?), but its another trumpet-heavy piece, and it gets me thinking of Miles Davis. Not for the first time this season has my mind travelled here.

Image: Pixabay.com

There are some discussions in the interval about Liverpool's relationship with America. The slave trade is, inevitably and importantly, mentioned. What hooks my interest most, is the discussion about the Cunard line and the so-called 'Cunard Yanks', whom I had never heard of before. These were young men working on the Cunard line, bringing back American music and fashion to Liverpool during the 1940's - ultimately influencing the Merseysound including The Beatles. Must try to learn more about this phenomenon when I get chance. 

Antonín Dvořák's Symphony No. 9 in E minor, ‘From the New World’, starts off quite sombre. But then the main 'riff' kicks in and I know what's coming. Something epic, that's for sure. The second moment hits and now I remember the hovis advert that was joked about during the interval. It makes me smile, but there’s also a longing sadness about the music when listening out of this context.

The third movement opens with what sounds like an echo of Beethoven’s 9th (ChatGPT confirms I am not the only one who has noticed this!). I recognise other parts of the tune as well: was it ever used as part of a Star Wars movie or video game, I wonder? (ChatGPT confirms my ear is correct again! Apparently John Williams' Duel of the Fates from Star Wars: The Phantom Menace has been noted in the past as bearing resemblance to this third movement of Dvořák's! - I must be becoming a bit of a classical music aficionado all of a sudden!)

It's been the best prom for days. And it is confirmed that this evening has been filmed, and that there is going to be a quick turnaround on this one. It will be on BBC Four tomorrow! I will come back to watch this as soon as I'm able.

Beethoven and Bartók from Budapest

"Beethoven and Bartók from Budapest
Royal Albert Hall

Iván Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orchestra bring Hungary’s greatest opera, Duke Bluebeard’s Castle, to the Royal Albert Hall, heard alongside Beethoven’s ebullient Symphony No. 7"

It's a straight, no-nonsense start to tonight's prom. One piece of music - a Beethoven symphony (namely No. 7 in A major) - starts gently, with a feeling of strolling through a sun-kissed meadow. Flows like any natural water feature would do. Yes, it is very pleasant on the ear from start to finish - Beethoven is a mainstream composer for good reason. It works up to a steady gallop, and finishes with aplomb. Very much looking forward to hearing his 9th, later in the season.

Image: Pixabay.com

Image: Pixabay.com

During the interval I do the dishes (as standard), and during the second half I am preparing my meal plan for next week. I need to do this earlier than normal, because I won't be here at the weekend. I will, of course, be heading down to the Royal Albert Hall for my next installment of in-person promming!

The second half, Duke Bluebeard’s Castle by Béla Bartók, opens with a passage read in Hungarian. We have to imagine the castle and the sort of cold, leaking, tower. At one point there is a light spell of laughter from the audience, but I'm clueless as to what they found amusing. Then the woodwind main body of the music interjects and we're off and running. There's a story to be told, and I try my best to conjure the scenes in my imagination. No doubt it is a good story!

Great British Classics

 Great British Classics at the Royal Albert Hall

Tonight is, for me, the perfect antidote to all the Mahler, which I struggle with (though I understand I am in the minority). It's Great British Classics this evening, and the title suggests it all - big, brash, pomp. Just what this prommer ordered. 

The first piece [William Walton's Coronation March] is very famous and I recognise it instantly. I didn't know up until this point the history of the piece, which was written for the ill-fated coronation of Edward VIII, who famously abdicated for the purpose of getting his leg over Wallis Simpson. The music was then used to its full effect at the coronation of George VI and Elizabeth. It certainly feels regal, and that of course aligns with the overall feel of the Proms as an institution.

The second offering of the evening is Ralph Vaughn Williams' The Lark Ascending, and it is beautiful music, completely lending itself to the intended imagery. Choral works follow up to complete the first half.

At this juncture I will mention that it was 'Burrito night' for myself. The dishes, while there was a few, did not present a major challenge.

The second half seems to travel between the feeling of Christmas carols, to getting lost in a magical Narnia forest. Choral sounds somewhere between Bach and Walt Disney. Not at all unpleasant.

Elgar's Enigma is everything the label claims.

Mahler’s Resurrection

 Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony

I was at home with my parents on Saturday night - we had a night of Fawlty Towers on DVD - so I am therefore listening to Mahler's Resurrection Symphony on BBC Sounds on Sunday afternoon. This is evidently a BIG prom for classical aficionados, as apparently the tickets to this one sold out on the day tickets were released back in May. We are about to hear a lengthy piece of work, with many existential questions being asked. 

My bike got a flat tyre last week when I was cycling to work, so I decide to try to fix this while I'm listening. I'm not successful in prizing the tyre off,  partially snapping both of the tyre levers I bought yesterday. I resort to using the flat end of a tablespoon - and this does help - but I only get the first side of the tyre off the rim. As I struggle and get frustrated, the music plays on. I'm reminded of that darky comic scene on Abigail's Party when Beethoven's Fifth blurs out of the stereo, as one of the leading characters suffers a heart attack. 

Admitting defeat, a vocal movement of the music begins, followed by an increase of catastrophic bursts. I know how Mahler feels.

Adams, Rachmaninov again!, and Berio...again.

 It's Friday evening and I am in a good mood, and not just for the usual reasons of finishing work for the weekend. It's August 1st, and the weather is overcast and the temperature in the air has dropped slightly. I always feel a light sense of melancholy when August arrives, with it being an indication that we are now entering late-summer, and on the descent towards dark nights and inclement weather. BUT - tonight is a bit special because I ran ten kilometers! I had only gone out for six, intending to lead up to ten by the end of this month. It think the air and clouds contributed to my success, and now at least I know I am capable!

To the music and tonight's programme opens with John Adams's The Chairman Dances. I've never heard it before but I like it. I like it a lot. It brings to my mind an image of a well-oiled machine; cogs and pistons interweaving seamlessly. There is a word for this style of playing but I can't bring it to mind in the moment. Writing this now, I think it might be spiccato - there's another piece by Paul Simon (Can't Run But) that also brings this pleasant motion to my mind. I ask ChatGPT and it also suggests 'motoric' or 'mechanistic'. Sounds about right, anyway!

Image: Pixabay.com

We then transition to Rachmaninov, a composer we have heard for the last three nights on the trot. Not that I'm complaining. It starts off big - sounds to me like Liberace playing alongside the climatic parts of Hedwig's Theme.

There is a break in proceedings when some sort of siren sounds at the hall. I am not aware of this - probably my cooking drowning out any incidental noises - but the radio presenter lets us know. The next movement is more chilled (which I suppose is to be expected from the second part of a concerto?)

I start typing up my blog about last night's late-night prom during the interval. 

The second half is Berio, who I have sort of already established is not really the composer for me. But I listen through and there are some interesting, albeit garish, motifs.

Happy Friday!

Arvo Pärt at 90 - late night prom

 Arvo Pärt at 90 - late night prom.

I settle into bed having got all my things and clothes ready for Friday at the office. After last week's nightmarish Boulez and Bario, I am unsure what to expect. But tonight is completely different. The music is gentle and choral-focused - much more appropriate for bedtime in my opinion! It's the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir tonight. My only prior encounter with Estonian music is when I voted for them in the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest.

As well as celebrations of Arvo Pärt, we are treated to a bit of Bach (never a bad thing in my view).

I settle down for the last piece, though it's arguably the most unsettling of the programme. Primeval chants, the likes of which would be led by Christopher Lee in The Wicker Man, prevail. It's understandable when I find out the theme of the piece is to highlight the atrocities of war.

The Lord's Prayer finishes the show, and I turn out the light.

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.

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

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!

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.