Promotion

ACTUALLY that’s not quite true: I did once attend a classical concert in Poland when I was a child, but remember little except a vague feeling of bewilderment. Yes, the announcements were in Polish but that wasn’t the main reason: for me, classical music has always been a foreign territory - and, it has to be admitted, one that’s largely unchartered.  

I am no longer daunted by the prospect of a ‘classical concert’   

Save from occasional hybrid artists like Lindsey Stirling and William Orbit, my taste in music is pitifully mainstream so it was with some apprehension I booked to visit one of the BBC Philharmonic’s 100+ yearly classical concerts: Life, Liberty...and Great Tunes, an adventure through some of America’s best-known musical masterpieces and unlikely heroes.

On entering, my first impressions were of a striking space: a composition of light wood planes, cobwebbed with spotlights and domineered by a polished rainbow of 5500 organ pipes. This was enhanced by a certain savoir faire on behalf of the audience and a panoply of speakers, used for broadcasts on Radio 3.

As soon as the first performer, organist Jonathan Scott, entered the stage, there was a palpable hush of anticipation. He warned us to ‘fasten our seatbelts’ for the first piece, Variations on America, in which composer Charles Ives created five versions of the country’s second national hymn (which ironically shares its tune with our God Save the Queen). Each section was yet more burlesque than the previous, culminating in Allegro - as fast as the pedals can go; dexterous up-tempo rhapsodies, which Ives described as ‘almost as fun as playing a baseball game’. 

Next up was composer Phillip Glass’ Mad Rush. Written for the Dalai Lama’s arrival at St Patrick’s Cathedral, it was reverie-inducing and nostalgic, segueing melodiously between sections in Glass’ (so my helpful programme informed me) signature minimalist style, combined with Buddhist influences. There was also something extremely theatrical about Scott sat there alone in a golden pool of light, seated at the organ with his back to the audience, appearing to play to an empty stage. 

Following this quarter hour of solo material, the whole orchestra - genteel in tailcoats and ball gowns - took their places and briefly tuned their instruments. So commenced the Aaron Copland deuce, split with a brief interval for stretching our legs and visiting the bar or shop. This was comprised of two pieces around 25 minutes long, of which Billy the Kid I enjoyed more than the previous Symphony for Organ and Orchestra: richly-textured ebullient climaxes swooping back into delicate strains or mariachi-inspired melodies.

Again, my brochure was a helpful aid; putting the works into context, telling me which instruments played where and even advising what to listen out for, like the ‘sweet singing of saxophones’ or the ‘air trembling’ on its exultant finale. I noticed the venue also offers an innovative programme for children called Journey through Music and was entertained by anecdotes like how a conductor in the seventeenth century, Jean-Baptiste Lully, kept his orchestra together by banging a big stick on the floor... one day, however, he accidentally stabbed his foot and soon afterwards died of gangrene.

Speaking of which, watching John Wilson conduct (thankfully, with a relatively harmless modern baton) was intriguing and amusing all at once. From the rolling grasslands of Billy the Kid to the swashbuckling epic of final piece, Korngold’s Robin Hood, his puppet-like movements were imbued with irresistible vivacity and often accompanied by a joyous grin.

In all, it was an enjoyable and surprisingly fun experience. Whilst I preferred some works to others, all had their individual qualities and I found the accompanying information a great tool in understanding each piece better. No longer am I daunted by the prospect of ‘a classical concert’ and, though admittedly I still prefer modern music  -‘different strokes for different folks’ as they say - I nevertheless look forward to discovering more about this diverse genre, which is all too often overlooked.

For listings click here.