Saturday evening found us at the Royal Festival Hall for Karl Jenkins' 60th birthday concert.
We started by eating in the People's Palace - what a fab name for a restaurant. We had an excellent view overlooking the Thames, even though there was something weird in the weather - there was a mist that hung over London that seemed autumnal in its content. No sky was visible, yet, conversely it was not an unpleasant evening. The food was first rate, although I would say slightly pricey.
We spent an enjoyable half hour people-watching from the Terrace. So many people were strolling along the riverside, and it was deeply entertaining to watch them.
Then into the concert hall. The concert was sponsored by Classic FM and, I suspect, rather a large part of the audience was from the Classic FM/Daily Mail classes. There were lots of kids, which I always find encouraging.
The concert was conducted by Karl Jenkins, only the second time I have witnessed a composer conducting his work (The first was about twenty years ago when I took my little brother to the ballet Cinderella composed and conducted by Joseph Horovitz). When he came onto the stage the applause was enthusiastic and there was even some cheering.
The Armed Man was utterly fantastic. I absolutely adore this piece, and it struck me, while I was listening, that it is rare that I am so familiar with a piece being performed that I know exactly what note, with what nuance on what instrument is coming next. I have only two criticisms - one, I was disappointed that in the whole of Londonistan it hadn't been possible to find a genuine muezzin to sing the Call to Prayer, and I was disappointed that the soloists used microphones, although they did look very young, and the orchestra - the London Phil - was gloriously loud.
Despite listening to the CD it had never previously struck me how much the score is dominated by the percussion and brass, with the strings and woodwind, on the whole, acting merely as accompanists. I am a percussion fanatic so I was delighted to see such intelligent and exciting use of a wide range of instruments.
The applause at the end was enthusiastic, but yet, somewhat reserved. It took until the fourth bow for someone to start a standing ovation, and that was by no means universal. I was imagining the Daily Mail/Classic FM classes being deeply embarrassed by a show of emotion - if you can't react emotionally to passionate music, what hope is there?
The second half featured a selection of songs from Adiemus Live! A couple of them are very familiar from Classical Chillout and adverts. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed it (Jimmy especially enjoyed the seven Finnish women singers - I told him you're not supposed to fancy the singers...!)
Soloists included Pamela Thorby on recorders and gemshorn, Nigel Hitchcock on sax (I'm sorry but however good he may be, he was definitely the weakest link - neither of us like unmelodic jazz), Martin Taylor on guitar and Catrina Finch playing Tros y garreg for harp and orchestra.
I have not really paid much attention to Adiemus before, but I would definitely say this is the epitome of where crossover works. I generally want people to stick to their genre (I don't want to hear Bryn Terfel singing Anarchy in the UK nor do I want to hear Billy Bragg sing Nessum Dorma, nor do I want to hear a symphony based on the works of Queen). However, when the actual music is a fusion of rock and classical, it strikes me right there. In the final piece - Songs of the Plains (Delta Airlines ad) - I wanted to get up and dance, but didn't want to be the first. Nevertheless I sashayed and tapped in my seat and saw around me people motionless. Boring sods....! I would love to hear that piece performed by a gospel chorus - I think it would work twice as well.
Again, at the end, the applause was more muted than it ought to have been, and barely a quarter of the stalls/terrace joined in standing ovation. Perhaps the cheap seats in the balcony had risen as one. One couple unfurled a Welsh flag. I hope I don't cause offence to my lovely Welsh readers, but what is it? In a city where there are 200 nationalities, what's the Welsh thing? I have witnessed Americans at performances by Americans, Koreans at performances by Koreans, Hungarians at performances by Hungarians, Russians at performances by Russians etc etc etc etc and they haven't found it necessary to unfurl their national flags.
A birthday message from Prince Charles was read out. I thought if he was really bothered he would have been there -as usual, the Royal Box was empty. And let's hope he gets onto his mother and tells her that The Armed Man - A Mass for Peace is, in itself, demanding of a knighthood. The orchestra, singers and audience united to sing Happy Birthday.
I thoroughly enjoyed it, Jimmy thoroughly enjoyed it and the ten year old boy next to me was absolutely wowed. I told him it's not often you get to see the composer conducting his own works - when he's an old man he'll tell his grandchildren.
I can't finish this piece without making a special mention of the lighting. I have often enjoyed the lighting in opera, ballet, rock, and straight theatre, but this is the first time in a classical concert that I have enjoyed the lighting for its own sake, let alone the enhancement it gave to an already excellent performance.
