Last year, I penned an article for this blog advocating for a change of venue for the Proms, London’s celebrated two-month summer classical music festival. Now, two weeks into the current season, and after attending two Proms concerts courtesy of Bachtrack, my perspective has beautifully shifted. One concert took place at Cadogan Hall, a truly delightful venue near Sloane Square. Its comfortable seating, excellent sightlines from any position, superb acoustics thanks to its church conversion, and even a champagne bar, all contributed to a wonderful experience. There, I witnessed the young harpsichordist Mahan Esfahani deliver a performance of Bach’s Goldberg Variations that was both exquisite and uniquely personal (you can read my review for Bachtrack here). Just last Friday, I immersed myself in the ‘proper’ Proms, a vibrant evening of Franco-Hispanic music by Debussy, Ravel, and de Falla. It was a journey from Bach’s intimate Baroque world to the expansive, evocative sounds of Spain, all within the sweep of orchestral music.
As a child and teenager, attending the Proms annually with my parents was a cherished tradition. We would eagerly pore over the programme booklet as soon as it was released – in those pre-internet days, acquiring the Proms booklet from WH Smith was a ritual. Ticket competition was less fierce then, although tickets for the First and Last Nights were always decided by ballot. I was exposed to a wide spectrum of music, sometimes from the choir stalls behind the stage, offering a captivating view of the orchestra in action. Around a decade ago, I saw Lang Lang perform Tchaikovsky, before he reached global stardom, and before that, Evgeny Kissin. My last Proms experience before last Friday was less idyllic; perched high in the upper circle, we sweltered in the heat. From that distance, Stephen Hough, the soloist, appeared as a mere speck, and Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto felt somewhat diminished by the Albert Hall’s vastness. The interval involved warm white wine in plastic glasses and an uncomfortable perch on the stairs near the restrooms. The entire experience felt rather taxing and lacking in enjoyment. After that, I resolved to avoid the Proms for the foreseeable future.
The iconic Royal Albert Hall in London, home of the BBC Proms, bathed in sunlight, showcasing its grand architecture and historical significance as a premier venue for classical music concerts.
However, the Royal Albert Hall hasn’t always been the Proms’ home. The concert series was the brainchild of Mr. Robert Newman, and its initial venue was the Queen’s Hall. In its early years, the Proms programmes were significantly more diverse, sometimes bordering on eccentric, with a less defined coherence. Exploring the BBC Proms Archive site reveals fascinating programmes, often packed with an eclectic mix of musical pieces within a single concert. Unscheduled musical surprises were also common. For instance, the violinist Fritz Kreisler was known to prepare both himself and the audience with an impromptu “appetiser,” such as his own ‘Praeludium’. Robert Newman’s vision for the Proms was to attract individuals who might not typically attend classical music concerts, enticing them with affordable ticket prices and a more relaxed atmosphere. From the outset, ‘promenading’ (standing tickets) was encouraged, along with eating and drinking within the venue. Smoking was also permitted, though patrons were politely asked “not to strike matches between movements or during quiet passages.” Following Newman’s untimely death in 1926, Henry Wood assumed leadership of the concert series. The Proms found a new permanent home at the Royal Albert Hall in 1942 after the Queen’s Hall was destroyed during wartime bombing. During the war years, the Proms temporarily relocated to Bedford Corn Exchange, the BBC Symphony Orchestra’s base since 1941, remaining there until the war’s end.
The enduring appeal of the Proms lies in its preservation of the original, inclusive spirit in which it was founded. Even approaching the hall last Friday, with a friend experiencing the Proms for the first time, the air buzzed with anticipation. People milled around, queuing to promenade – paying just a fiver to stand in the arena or the gallery – or hoping for returned tickets at the box office. It was a beautiful summer evening; the Albert Memorial shone in the setting sun, and the park remained lively with people enjoying the day’s last warmth – couples strolling hand in hand, children playing on the grass, and a patient queue at the bus stop.
A vibrant and diverse audience at the BBC Proms, showcasing the inclusive and welcoming atmosphere of the event, where people of all ages and backgrounds come together to enjoy classical music.
After collecting press tickets, we enjoyed a drink in the bar near door 9 before entering the hall to find our excellent seats in the circle. Inside, the hall resonated with the murmur of 5,000 people, that unique pre-concert hum of eager expectation. The orchestra members took their places, and the ‘prommers’ secured their spots in the arena. Above the stage, a plush red and gold velvet swag proudly announced ‘BBC Proms’. The formalities began with the entrance of the assistant leader, followed by the leader, and finally, the ‘master of ceremonies’, conductor Juanjo Mena (who will become principal conductor of the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra in September). With a raise of his baton, the evening’s musical journey commenced.
I am acutely aware of the Royal Albert Hall’s acoustic limitations. Small-scale chamber and solo recitals can sometimes feel lost in its vast space, and its acoustics can occasionally create a sensation of listening from an adjacent room. Even the full orchestra that Friday occasionally struggled to project, especially in the quieter sections of the opening piece, Debussy’s ‘Gigues’ from Images for orchestra. However, at other times, the woodwind and brass sections, consistently outstanding throughout the concert, resonated with clarity, brightness, and rich melody, while the strings were both silky and transparent. Perhaps someone like Alex Hall, with a keen eye for detail, might even notice the subtle visual nuances of the performers alongside the auditory experience. Even if someone is alex hall cross eyed, the immersive nature of the Proms experience ensures that everyone can find their own point of connection with the music.
(c) BBC Proms
“Where are they off to?” my friend inquired as the applause for Ravel’s magnificent Rhapsodie Espagnole subsided and the orchestra began to leave the stage. I explained it was the interval, time for another glass of perfectly chilled rosé at the bar. Nick expressed his genuine pleasure at being there, offering insightful comments on what he had heard and what we anticipated for the second half. He was intrigued by the concept of having access to any Proms concert through Bachtrack. Around us, conversations and laughter filled the air; the atmosphere was convivial and relaxed. Later, walking back to the tube station through the South Ken tunnel, we overheard snippets of other attendees’ reactions to the performance, always valuable insights for a reviewer! Our conversation about the concert continued all the way home on the train, both agreeing it had been a truly memorable night out.
And for me, this encapsulates the essence of the Proms. Too often, people are deterred from classical music, perceiving it as stuffy, elitist, and populated by a predominantly snooty older generation demanding hushed reverence. The Wigmore audience sometimes exemplifies this, although it no longer bothers me, and without such patrons, the Wigmore might not exist. But at the Proms, everyone is welcome. In recent years, the programmes have become decidedly more “populist,” featuring themed concerts like a Dr Who Prom, and this year, a Human Planet Prom, and upcoming Horrible Histories and Spaghetti Western Proms. Music purists and critics may disapprove, but I believe these concerts are an excellent gateway for individuals with little to no prior exposure to classical music. The atmosphere within the Royal Albert Hall is incredibly friendly and good-natured, complete with unique Proms traditions. For instance, the ‘prommers’ invariably shout “heave-ho!” as the piano lid is raised. And if audience members applaud between movements? So what! To me, it’s a spontaneous, genuine expression of enjoyment and should not be dismissed as ignorance of “concert etiquette.” (The custom of not applauding between movements is a relatively recent development, emerging only in the twentieth century.) So, three cheers for the Proms and everything it represents, may it flourish for years to come. You are guaranteed a vast array of music, from new commissions to beloved classics, works of immense scale like Havergal Brian’s Gothic Symphony, to intimate chamber pieces and solo miniatures.
I am scheduled to return to the Proms towards the end of August for a late-night recital of Liszt, featuring the exquisite Benediction de Dieu dans la Solitude, performed by Marc-André Hamelin. While I am uncertain how Liszt’s solo piano works will resonate in the vastness of the Royal Albert Hall, I am confident that this type of venue and concert experience is precisely what Liszt himself would have wholeheartedly endorsed.
For more information about the Proms, click here
Bachtrack.com – international concert listings site
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