Reichstag fire or avocado revolution?

Last Wednesday, the news broke that Boris Johnson had asked the Queen to prorogue Parliament for a 5-week period. Among the first 50000 or so to sign the inevitable petition against, I felt this was a necessary but not sufficient action, and decided to join the hastily-convened protest at College Green in the evening. The sound system wasn't really up to the job, but among others I heard Diane Abbott convincingly describe how the UK would conventionally react to such a democratic suspension in a Latin American country. We moved on to Parliament Square and Downing Street, where other, similarly chaotic protests, were going on. The mood was distinctly different from earlier People's Vote marches, much angrier, and although I did not feel unsafe, I had the sense that we have entered a more dangerous phase, and I was not surprised to hear of clashes with Brexit Party supporters later in the evening.

By the weekend, things had become more organised; as I was planning on going to the Proms on Saturday evening, I decided to join the lunchtime protest at Westminster in lieu of the more local protests taking place. In some respects, this was a disappointment, as it was clearly led by the hard left, and the speakers were all either from the Labour Party, the Green Party, or the Unions. John McDonnell made a reasoned speech; some of the Trades Union reps were off-message to my ear, almost overtly suggesting that Corbyn be made head of a caretaker government, at which point he could implement Labour's policies, including the more far-left ones. It pleased the crowd, but that wouldn't be any more constitutional than the present position. Fortunately the loudest booing during the speeches was reserved for the moment when the Vauxhall Labour Party chair mentioned that his MP was Kate Hoey; I'm not sure whether that was the expected reaction.

Despite the arrangement for a "static" demonstration, we had to exit somewhere, and people marched up Whitehall to Trafalgar Square. Enough time had passed for people to be inventive about their placards; I only got poor photos of the light-hearted "More Pierogi, Less Prorogation" or the less subtle Boris Johnson picture with added Hitler moustache, but there were others too.

There was further booing and shouting as we passed the Wetherspoon's pub on Whitehall; as we got closer I realised that a few of Britain's Finest Gammon were being contained by a heavy police presence.

I could see the traffic was being disrupted as I made my way to the National Gallery for a couple of hours to pass the remainder of the afternoon; as I emerged it seemed police were moving in to break up the sit-down protest.

Henry Wood

What could be more liberal metropolitan elite than going on a protest march at lunchtime followed by a Prom in the evening? So, I spent a couple of hours in the National Gallery - probing some less familiar corners as well as the Canalettos, Constables and Turners - before heading back to South Kensington. The arena was quite sparsely populated, and I was in the second row.

The BBC Concert Orchestra was conducted by Bramwell Tovey - no relation to Donald Francis Tovey, apparently - in a programme inspired by Sir Henry Wood's novelties and orchestrations. (Of course, as the sole conductor for many years at the Proms, much of the classical repertoire must have had its first Proms performance under Wood's baton; but you still know a "Proms Novelty" when you see one). The concert began with Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole, not one of my favourite composers and a Proms novelty to me, but an interesting piece with its typical colours and mounting energy. John Ireland's Piano Concerto was next, with Leon McCawley as the soloist. The programme notes suggested Prokofiev as an influence; in early sections I though also of Rachmaninov, but later on, also of Vaughan Williams and Britten. McCawley gave an encore of Schumann arranged by Liszt.

The second half began with the dread phrase "BBC commission: world premiere". You never know what you're going to get. In fact, Dobrinka Tabakova's Timber and Steel was quite enjoyable, following a John Adams minimalist style. The main body of the second half - and the real attraction of this concert for me - was the set of Henry Wood orchestrations: Debussy's Préludes - La cathédrale engloutie; Granados's Danzas españolas - Andaluza, Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder - Träume and Grainger's Handel in the Strand. Overdone, yes, but still enjoyable. The concert concluded with more Ravel - this time the decadent La valse, perhaps echoing the sense of the End Times I had felt earlier in the day.