Is there a set of the "rules" that they could laminate, and post outside of concert halls, or perhaps ushers could identify the more "uncouth" patrons as they entered, and make then sign some sort of agreement whereby they promised to behave in the manner of their betters for the duration of the concert? 

I can see the argument that fewer of the "crisps and mobiles," classes in the auditorium might encourage more "well behaved" patrons.  But the reverse is probably also true, and fewer stuffy old men ruling the roost might encourage a younger clientele.  The promoter and the owner of the venue are probably only in the game for bums-on-seats and the ratio of adult nappies versus boxers on those seats won't bother them a great deal as long as they can sell venues/tours out.

Jerry, you said 
But what if that's precisely why they were there, and if Ms B had started belting out Stockhausen'Klavierstück IX, or meandering through Schnittke's Piano Sonata No. 3 they might never come back?  Where's your future audience? 

I hate to say it, but like most forms of entertainment, it's all about the bottom line these days.  Names people recognise, Chopin, Bach, Liszt hopefully, Satie perhaps, are what sell.  Esoteric piano pieces by composers, some of whom don't even have the good taste to be dead yet, will not bring in the crowds.

People of our age and outlook (I, for instance, continued to wear a suit and tie to West End theatre, even after audiences started to turn up in jeans and trainers) are a dying breed, quite literally, and the need to bring in new, younger blood is there, right now, even if it means sadly, dumbing down the larger concerts. 

People, right across the board now (apart from a relatively select group) have less disposable income, and every venue and every tour manager is fighting for every quid they can lay their grubby little trotters on.

In Miss B's repertoire, apart from the old favourites was Eric (I wondered what that tune from that advert was called) Satie, and a piece by François Couperin which was pleasant enough that some of the young ruffians might remember his name, or at least refer to their program notes and hit Spotify when they get home.

Bums-on-seats, lads.  We are not THE generation being catered to (and for) anymore in the mainstream, dumbed down, classics-for-the-council-estate hoi polloi, business.  Get used to it, and/or be more selective in your choice of venue, and program.  Big artists command big fees, and filling venues is the only way to afford them.

fop

Interesting thoughts Paul and it's difficult to disagree with you.

As I suggested earlier I think KB is at a turning point in her career as to what kind of artist she wants to be. Does she want an easy life, staying within a fairly narrow comfort zone or does she want to challenge herself and actually grow? Depending on which side she chooses she may not be someone I will follow in the future, which would be a shame because she genuinely is a formidable talent as we saw in glimpses on Saturday night.

The previous recital that I saw from KB, I was memsmorized by her handling of D960 - would Saturday's audience have appreciated it? Or would they have been better off with the Greatest Hits that they got? I don't know and don't want to be too judgemental and patronising.

Yuja Wang proves you can be an electric performer, selling out concert halls, without standing still - I feel she still has so much more to offer and is comfortable in absolutely any repertoire. Has KB actually peaked as an artist? Time will tell.

Tonight we saw the Amati Orchestra perform at the Holy Trinity Church, Sloane Square, under the animated baton of Leo Patsalides. The programme was varied:

- Tchaikovsky - Hamlet Fantasie Overture
- Delius - In a Summer Garden
- Rimsky-Korsakov - Capriccio Espagnol
- Sibelius - Symphony No. 5

The large church's acoustic was surprisingly forgiving, offering some reverb but in no way smearing the performance, which sounded dramatic, dynamic and full of fine musicianship. In fact, we could not in any way align the Amati with amateurs, they sounded as tight as any of the large London orchestras. The Tchaikovsky and Rimsky were suitably challenging and dynamic pieces, played very well with especially good percussion and string sections. The Delius was typical of his music, sweeping waves of sound and fine in small doses. The Sibelius 5th, once again in live performance, left me unmoved. Apart from Finlandia, I am just not getting Sibelius.

All that apart, this was a fine production in a different venue, with good performances and good sound. The Amati have two serious challenges coming next year: one evening of Shostakovich 10 and Stravinsky Firebird, the next a performance of Mahler 2. I am committed to attending both.

I spent so much time working around that area over the years but have never been in the church!

The programme looked appealing to me. I do enjoy Sib 5 and like his work as a whole. What do you think of his VC and how well do you know the various tone poems?

Oh dear, it's Sloane Square - got it completely confused with somewhere else doh!

I'm going to find just one Sibelius recording for you to listen to Martin.

Prom 35 - Royal Albert Hall

Sibelius - Tapiola 
Liszt - Piano Concerto No. 1
R. Strauss - Ein Heldenleben 

Yuja Wang - piano
Oslo Philharmonic
Klaus Mäkelä - conductor

She came, she played, she conquered.

Yuja Wang has become the complete pianist.

But it wasn't always this way. I first saw Ms Wang play a solo programme of Scriabin / Rachmaninov heavy repertoire over 10 years ago at one of the smaller Southbank theatres. She thundered her way through, attacking the keys with an almost feral menace and intensity that I will warrant none of us had ever witnessed. Whilst she received the admiration and adulation of the crowd, I appeared to be the only one slightly non-plussed by it - where was the musicality in all of the maelstrom?

Fast forward another 10 years ago and we have an entirely different, more (g)rounded performer. The Liszt naturally demands a perfect technique, but she has always enjoyed that; the challenge was to marry a charm and delicacy with the melodrama. I must say that her control of the upper registers when playing pianissimo was utterly sublime and she played to us with a tenderness that felt wholly sincere. The trill that would seemingly never end transfixed us all. The crystalline definition of notes played at breakneck speed was breathtaking and she managed to deliver a technicolour performance in which everything felt so fresh, vital and spontaneous - what a way to celebrate concert goers returning to this hall! The two winning encores seemed to encapsulate her new found depth, her interpretation of Carmen showing all of her agility and speed whilst the other was heartfelt and hushed. We did our best to encourage a third encore but a final appearance on stage to acknowledge the applause was to be final.

Let’s go back to the start of the concert. How wonderful to see this great hall bursting to the seams with eager Prommers, hardly a seat to be had. The 26 year old Mäkelä cuts quite a figure at the podium - impossibly suave in his immaculate double breasted tuxedo and bow tie he also has a touch of the Erroll Flynn (!) about him such is his charisma and indefatigable encouragement he offers, with his hair seemingly having a life of its own. Indeed you can almost see him carving out the series of tense and murmuring undulations in Tapiola just by his facial expressions, which sometimes verged on a maniacal glee, counting out the primordial heartbeat of the forest and serving as a premonition for the highly charged climax of this nihilistic force of nature, Sibelius’s final major work. At times you are listening to an energy that transcends our narrow concepts of western classical music. I love sitting in the choir at the RAH - there's something so visceral about the experience of sitting so close to the orchestra, especially if you have the timpani or brass unloading just a few metres in front of you!

After we had a chance to calm down following Ms Wang’s departure, our final piece was the Strauss tone poem following the life of a mythical 'Hero' figure. I confess to struggling a little with this, aside from some gloriously taken solos by the concertmaster, Elise Båtnes, who it turns out first performed with this orchestra aged just 10!  Don’t get me wrong, it feverishly endeavours to seduce with its highly charged romantic meanderings but it lost something in clarity with the narrative, after one too many heady climaxes, you don’t know whether you’re coming or going - whether that’s down to the composition or performance I just don’t know. Let's put it down to my lack of familiarity with the score this time.

As I left the Albert and wandered into the balmy night, my route took me past the Royal College of Music, where I could just make out some echoing late night piano practice - how wonderful I thought, it’s this kind of dedication that will produce the elite performers of tomorrow.

Prom 62 - Royal Albert Hall 3/9/22

Mahler 7

Kirill Petrenko / Berlin Philiharmonic

Arch Symphonist Kirill

In a night to savour which I hope lingers long in the memory, I found the Seventh to be an an irresistibly gilded and radiant symphony, in the expert hands of an irrepressible orchestra boasting a conductor fully fit to unleash it’s bounteous charms.

It was evident from the First Movement that this was to be a very different Berlin Phil to that I had experienced previously. The opening Tenor Horn solo, and those of the brass which followed, were crystalline clarion calls to action; the ever busy Petrenko proceeded to shape impossibly romantic and gorgeous themes that were unflinchingly seductive. Oft reminiscent of technicolour dreams from the Golden Age of Hollywood, the music was rich, luscious and ripe to an indecent degree. And for the Star Trek fans amongst you - if you want to see where the inspiration for original theme music came from, look no further, it’s right there … I knew I was hooked - it was thrilling, exuberant and alluring, yes, all traces of previous BPO live encounters were banished to the nether regions of my consciousness. This was music making with energy, gusto and commitment, led from the podium.

The first of the Nachtmusik movements began and ended with woodwind texture and timbre that was so exquisite, it was almost unearthly - the delicacy and clarity in the softest of moments is remarkable; make no mistake, this orchestra is not full of gleaming yet shallow technicians - the connection one feels with them is something profoundly special. Again I was struck by the way Petrenko was constantly urging, foraging in the soundscape, shaping the music with surging and retreating waves of energy to portray the juxtaposition of marches and dances.

I will not detain you much with the Third Movement. In terms of the music, for me it doesn’t hit the dizzying heights of the rest of the work. It might be unfair to call it pedestrian in comparison, but I confess that my attention wandered for the first time and momentum was briefly lost, despite the best efforts of all concerned. Thankfully the Fourth Movement immediately resumes normal service with its Austrian Alps folklore and pastoral charms. Like an early morning breath of Alpine air, it oozes rustic atmosphere, with the help of an acoustic guitar and mandolin; distant cowbells echoing off stage. The rampant start of the Rondo Finale for the Fifth Movement hit me squarely between the eyes like a cannonball, as the timpani thundered a warning shot across the boughs. Fair warning was given, this was to be a full blooded race to the finish line. It’s a fascinating movement which has provoked much debate. Sweeping dynamics dominate heraldic fanfares alternating with rustic dances which are handled so sprightly and fleet-footed, the combination of which removes any traces of pomposity yet proves controversial for some. The massed strings and woodwind shone with high gloss and panache here, leading to an intensely heady climax ending with resounding bells.

I’m really not sure that five gold stars would do this performance full justice. When listening, it was as if time stood still, such was the deep connection this orchestra’s music made with me. It must surely be the best ever orchestral performance that I have heard at the Albert - if only it were to be released commercially. And in terms of the best ever orchestral performance I have witnessed in any hall? Well, very possibly this Mahler 7 belongs at the peak - at present I really cannot think of any occasion where the quality of the written music and the performance of the orchestra has surpassed this exceptional night.

Yes, Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up with a vengeance!