Avi Avital: Between Worlds

Avi Avital: Between Worlds

Royal Albert Hall

Having had my fill of concerts for one day, I toyed with the idea of leaving this Prom until tomorrow. After some indecision, I eventually bit the bullet and listened live.

This is a late-night Prom, commencing on BBC Radio 3 at 22:15. We have - according to https://www.bbc.co.uk/events/ebngfx - 'Avi Avital and his ensemble Between Worlds for a sonic tour of the countries that border the Black Sea'.

Opens up with a tribal chant, and all I can think of is that New Zealand rugby team [the All Blacks] who do that dance [haka] before a match. Not sure why the BBC keeps insisting on putting on these unsettling features before bedtime?

Anyway, the second piece of music starts and it is much nicer. I think this is where the mandolin comes out, and it sounds a little Irish to me - which is a good thing, because I adore Irish trad music. The mandolin is capable of such beautiful sounds, and I'm reminded of the time I saw Bill Bailey play the mandola (a close relative), while looking through YouTube once. [I'm too tired to pull out any Aker Bilk references].

Some more percussive music follows. Very nice and exotic.

I really enjoy the number just before eleven o'clock, which I note has a brilliantly unique style of weaving vocals.

Later there is some music featuring the clarinet, and I am getting a blurry flash of another famous piece of music, but I can't for the life of me remember how it goes... its a very famous clarinet opening, which eventually my brain does decode - so I'll know it if hear it. I ask the following question to ChatGPT:

"I'm listening to a clarinet piece and I'm thinking I'm in Paris. There's a really famous clarinet opening I'm thinking about, do you know the one I mean?"

ChatGPT replies:

"I think I know the one you mean! The most famous clarinet opening associated with Paris is almost certainly Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin (1924).

It begins with that unforgettable slow clarinet glissando, sliding upwards into the jazzy main theme. It’s iconic, and it often conjures images of big cities (Paris, New York, etc.), even though Gershwin was American."

I search for 'Rhapsody in Blue' on YouTube - YES, that's the one!! I can now bank that information for future reference and enjoyment.

As the show nears an end there is some male operatic-style singing. Don't ask me which register, but I am now getting the odd flash of the Go Compare man [Wynne Evans], for whom I have a long-standing and intense repulsion.

Good night!

Image: Pixabay.com

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

The Cavemen

The Cavemen
Royal Albert Hall

Still coming down from the high of Anoushka Shankar's prom earlier in the evening, I retire to bedlam and switch on the bedside radio. The atmosphere at the Albert Hall is going to be maintained, and arguably revved up even more, with this late night prom.

Tonight it is 'Nigerian sensations', Kingsley Okorie and Benjamin James. The music starts and I am not sure how to categorise it. It's got a slight calypso feel? [Side note: I wonder if calypso has ever been experimented at the proms - a stage of steel drums would surely be divine?!].

It turns out that the genre I'm actually looking for is 'Highlife'. Nigerian highlife, to be precise. It's a new one on me! I will be looking this up in more depth when I get chance.

There's lead guitar lines (always a good thing) that sound very Santana, and there's audience participation, with the whole hall chanting to one of the songs (I think it was called Chameleon).

The music turns to a more meditative sound at the end, and - in the nicest possible way - I struggle to stay awake. But awake I do stay, right up until we are handed from the Royal Albert Hall, back to broadcasting house.

Image: Pixabay.com

Anoushka Shankar: ‘Chapters’

Anoushka Shankar: ‘Chapters’
Royal Albert Hall

Yes friends, it's the one I've been waiting for. One I so wish I could have attended personally, but you know how it is...

I know it is going to be special, because every concert with Anoushka Shankar is. Personally, I have been lucky enough to see her perform live one time, which was at the Llangollen Eisteddfod in 2022. It was a mid-summer evening, the weather was great, the front of the stage was adorned with beautiful flowers, and the music was out of this world. I remember being there (alone) and feeling very happy and content with life.

But life doesn't always deal us good hands, and later that year saw some personal loss and torment in my life. It is reassuring, therefore, when Anoushka takes to the stage and tells the audience about her own struggles, and how her series of mini albums - Chapters - were born out of this.

At the Eisteddfod in 2022, Anoushka was backed by the Britten Sinfonia, and split the bill with her collaborator, Manu Delago, whose set I also very much enjoyed and learned from. They had just released their album (literally on the very same day of that gig - Friday 8th July 2022). I liked their collaboration so much that I ordered the album on vinyl at my earliest opportunity.

Fast forward to the Royal Albert Hall on 12th August 2025. I am listening live via BBC Sounds in my back room. I decide tonight not for the kitchen radio, but to listen on my new Bluetooth speaker I picked up in London on Saturday (a privilege I did not grant to Mahler last night).

The music starts softly, with the hallmark glangs and bends of the sitar. The orchestra subtly joins in. It's one of those where you would only notice their absence if they stopped playing, if that makes sense. Subtle, but vital. One can hear a pin drop in the Albert Hall - no rogue coughs picked up by the recording gear tonight!

Of course, all of it is a highlight. I note that the undercurrent of the orchestra takes an interesting turn during Dancing on Scorched Earth. And my favourite moment comes around 45 minutes into the programme - the build-up ending of New Dawn, where the sitar and orchestra are fully working together, and my head starts to fizz with the visual emotion of it.

From Dark Till Dawn: All Night Prom

From Dark Till Dawn: All Night Prom

It's Friday night: I have just finished listening to the two previous proms from today, and in the morning I am due to board a National Express coach to take me from Liverpool One Bus Station to London. Not the most convenient time to throw in an all-night prom at the Royal Albert Hall, spreading thru the hours of 11pm to 7am. I will need to break this down into digestible chunks.

That is exactly what I do, opting to tune in for the first hour from my bedroom radio. It's fitting, I feel, that this prom opens with a organ-centered, Transylvanian haunted house feel. As someone who has tasted the pleasure of shift work in the past, my opinion is that anyone staying up all night - whether on the radio or at the venue - needs their head testing. But despite my repulsion at the idea of staying up all night, I cannot deny that I struggle to switch the radio off after the first hour. The Pirates of the Caribbean organ music takes me back to St George's Hall, pre-covid, listening to Professor Ian Tracey reciting Bach and others on the pipes. [Side note: I was once told that Liverpool hosts the first and third largest organs in the country (Anglican Cathedral and St George's Hall, respectively), with the second being the Royal Albert Hall!].

There follows a Spanish Ale House session that I'm really enjoying, and, as mentioned, I find myself reluctant to turn off the radio, But turn off I must, because the morrow brings my coach to the capital.

When I awake the next morning, I'm amused and disturbed by the fact that the music is still running at the Albert Hall. I grab a shower and get in my car to drive to Liverpool. By this time the broadcast is available on BBC Sounds, so I pick up where I left off the night before, and catch another thirty minutes worth of listening. There are Slovakian ale house songs which sound a bit Celtic, and this is followed by some more meditative music (maybe part of the first interval, I can't remember). Next there is some Irish music and this is a tour de force. We party like it's 1699, and, according to the announcers there is a 'bar fight' on stage, which I was sorry not to have seen with mine own eyes.

On the final leg of my coach journey (Milton Keynes to London Victoria), I manage to catch another hour. 

Later that day I pick it up again in my hotel room, on the bluetooth speaker I have just purchased (a convenient coincidence) from IKEA on Oxford Street. [Side note: I bought it for £2.07 with the aid of a TopCashback voucher. Had my eye on it for a while and it will match the decor in my back room perfectly. I am made up with it!]

This prom is so long that I also need to catch up on other sessions the next day, including about two hours sitting in Norfolk Square, and finally about 90 minutes on my return bus ride.

Some personal highlights across the entire duration of this prom include (but are not limited to):

- The choral rendition of Bob Dylan's Make You Feel My Love

- Saint Saens Danse Macabre played on the piano [you having a laugh?! that's the second time it's been played this season and neither time was I there - Grrrr!]

- A bit of Bach (never a bad thing).

- The smooth Eastern tones heard towards the end of the programme.

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To sum up, it was a very exciting and varied running order. Fair play to Anna Lapwood for organising. Some really great music, and the spirit and atmosphere of everyone there was likewise great.

Images: The speaker, and my evening view from Lancaster Court Hotel.

Soul Revolution

Tonight is Soul Revolution night at the Royal Albert Hall, and I wish I was there (I'll have to wait another six days for that). It is a welcome break from the hard-core classical; mixing things up with a party atmosphere.

The upbeat introduction from the orchestra reminds me of the opening See See Rider from Elvis Presley's On Stage album (1970), which is an old favourite of mine.

There's too much to include as highlights, as it was all so good. Stevie Wonder's Living for the City, and the gospel How I Got Over stand out for me. I also like that the show has been intertwined with an educational element, in highlighting the role these songs have played in supporting the civil rights movement. The finale (a cover of Edwin Starr's War), is the evening's final testament to this. 

While I'm listening I am also plotting yet another trip to the Albert Hall - not the one next week, but the one on Saturday 13th September when I try my luck for the Last Night of the Proms. My travel and accommodation for that weekend is now settled. By hook or by crook (but hopefully by hook) I will get there!

Photo taken by me.

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.

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?

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