Aug. 13th, 2019

qatsi: (proms)
I knew Prom 34 would be popular, but I was surprised to see the queue extending all the way down to the bottom of the steps at the Royal Albert Hall when I arrived at 9am. I didn't doubt that I would get in, but did start to wonder whether it was really worth it, as the thing that drew me to this concert was probably not what most people had come for. Nonetheless, I suppose I was invested from the moment I bought car parking in Reading, and concluded that 129 in the queue wasn't too bad. At least it meant there would be no scramble to get back to the front of the queue in the evening.

Yet, of course, the queue management wasn't all that great; it was left to one or two of the more assertive regulars to shepherd people around to even approximately the right place in the queue. I was about eight or nine rows back - quite a respectable position in the front half of the arena, and no need to be concerned about fainting during the evening: there was nowhere to fall.

The West-Eastern Divan Orchestra and Daniel Barenboim opened with Schubert's Symphony No 8 (unfinished). It does feel like quintessential Schubert, effortlessly melodic; yet unlike the Beethoven I heard earlier in the season, I feel there are hints pointing towards Schubert's own ninth symphony, not only in scale but also in some of the harmonies in the second movement in particular.

Heave-Ho! And so to the work people had most obviously come to see, Martha Argerich the soloist for Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No 1. It was an accomplished and unfussy performance, with big sounds when necessary (somewhat drowning out the orchestra on occasion) but also clipped and with clarity.

Unsurprisingly, the arena cleared a little - but not much - for the second half, which was the reason I'd picked this concert: Lutosławski's Concerto for Orchestra. I didn't know the piece, but I'd heard enough by the composer to be curious. What is a concerto for orchestra, anyway? Perhaps it's a symphony but with more virtuosic, or at least individualistic, writing for instruments and ensembles. It was an interesting work, with hints of Bartók in particular, and some odd modalities that made me thing of Vaughan Williams, perhaps not an especially memorable one, though worth listening again.

It was obvious that there would be some encore. Fortunately Barenboim eschewed the opportunity to make one of his extended speeches and let the must speak for itself: Beethoven's Egmont overture.

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