Music And relax. After seventy-two Albert Hall concerts and a handful of chamber concerts I’ve finally reached the climax, the last night, of the Proms, Prom 72. Yes, I did sob through Jerusalem and sang both verses of the national anthem at the top of my voice. I clapped along with Pomp and Circumstance and busked through the regional opt-outs during Fantasia on British Sea-Songs (bless the school kids who sang Danny Boy for being so normal), BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Symphony Orchestra as electric as ever. It’s the only part of the Proms I’ve seen and heard in company, the usual conversation about where all the flags were from and unusually why some of the audience booed whilst conductor Jiri Belohlavek received his flowers. Odd kind of joke that, especially when he was so good during the speech. Although I missed the statistics.
Trust the last night to bring the final surprise of the season, as I quietly lost my heart to Anna Netrebko even before she sang as she bounded onto stage waving at the crowd which is exactly the kind of thing I’d like to think I would have done given the occasion. Many times in the past few weeks have soloists have been respectful and serious as they strolled in front of the audience and this was gleeful and unlike some of those soloists she gave a performance of acting as well as singing, walking away from the microphone, addressing audience members and the choir directly, not just producing an excerpt from the music of an opera, but a whole opera performance, her Bellini absolutely heartbreaking, the Lehar spellbinding. The flower dance (for want to a better description) was one of the most exciting moments of the televised Proms all year and I’ve immediately gone to LoveFilm and ordered all of her dvds. I’m desperate to at least appreciate opera and this might be just the way to do it.
Even I’ve heard of Joshua Bell -- if only because he was the violinist mimed to throughout one of my favourite films, The Red Violin. His rendition of Ravel’s Izigane here reminded me of the scene there in which the fiddle is passed through generations of gypsies, a montage sequences showing close ups of each of its owners playing with Bell’s unbroken solo underneath. His current instrument was manufactured in the early 1700s and I wonder of its had a similar journey in its life before turning up in these loving hands. In the slightly bewildered interview Bell gave to Alan Titchmarsh between movements he anthropomorphised it -- talking about its quirks like some might describe a child or pet. It’s a part of him and as he said, he’s still learning about what it’s capable of. Pity Andrew Kennedy sandwiched between these two, his expressive face bursting into action as he approached each line of the Elgar, especially since he was the only one not to reprise in the second half, or the bit that everyone in the country watches. Seems a bit unfair.
I commented on Facebook afterwards that I was ‘tired and emotional’ which I was and I still am. I always cry during Jerusalem but this year is simply meant more because with the exception of exalting the monarch and the improved Auld Lang Syne it was the last piece of the season and unlike previous years I feel like I’ve lived it. I wonder if anyone else has heard all of the Albert Hall proms, for the same reasons, and if they did, does that diminish my own achievement (particularly if they were within the Hall itself). I feel like Michael Palin (whose new show was previewed before and after the tv broadcast) at the end of Around The World In 80 Days sitting alone on the tube wanting to tell his fellow passengers that he’s been around the world in seventy-nine days, but not sure ifthey’d believe him. Palin was obviously making a documentary so all of his viewers knew about it, and of course here I am boring you senseless too.
I suppose in the end I’ve done this for me, it means something to me, and that is what is important, to me.
Thanks Henry.
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