Blitz Spirit

I booked tickets for Our Finest Hour at the Barbican a while ago; later it transpired that Network Rail were shutting the line between Reading and Paddington over the Bank Holiday weekend, which made it more of a slog to get in on the slow Waterloo line. Combined with semi-anticipated closure of the Circle Line, it certainly was a challenge to get anywhere, though the combination of pleasant weather and the general quietness of the City itself at the weekend made for a reasonable walk up from the Waterloo and City Line at Bank, stopping off at the Museum of London where by chance I met up with Mrs Q. We met up with rosamicula for a pre-concert meal at Iberica in Farringdon. We had a very good selection of tapas and drinks before heading towards the Barbican.

We observed that we were, statistically, among the younger people in the audience, and it had crossed our minds that a concert themed around Dunkirk and the Battle of Britain might appeal to a bunch of UKIP voters looking for something to do now that their party has succumbed to the Black Death, though in fact, bickering aside, they were for the most part quite chilled. Or sedated. As rosamicula put it, it was like being in a tent at Glastonbury where everyone else is on stroke medication. Though they did get quite excited at the mention of Gracie Fields.

The music was provided by the BBC Big Band, directed by Barry Forgie, with mezzo-soprano Annie Gill, and the concert was narrated by Peter Bowles. For me the selection was quirky, with some familiar tunes and some novelties. Beginning with A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, other highlights in the first half included The White Cliffs of Dover, a Glenn Miller medley, Mad About the Boy, and ending with We'll Meet Again, with somewhat subdued audience participation. The second half had some big band arrangements of more familiar numbers - Colonel Bogey's March, 633 Squadron and The Dam Busters - though of course, these last two are from film scores written some years after the war. This was followed by the slow movement of Dvořák's New World Symphony - another curious selection, though suited to the elegiac tone of Bowles' reading of a letter from an RAF serviceman "to be sent in the event of my death". To me, the words seemed dated, and in places, awkwardly jingoistic; definitely from another time. The concert was rounded off by a "Last Night of the Proms" medley of Rule, Brittania!, I Vow To Thee My Country and Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1. Regular readers may spot an odd one out there, as Holst's music (originally from The Planets) isn't a Last Night regular; once again, the audience participation was muted. Overall, though the audience did provide some toe-curling moments, the music was good and it was an interesting concert. Uber whisked us away to Waterloo in time for an earlier train than I had expected to catch, but it was still past midnight when we arrived home.