Prom 8: BBC Symphony, Symphony Orchestra/Davis, Royal Albert Hall, London
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Eight hundred years of music at Cambridge was one Proms celebration for which there would be no shortage of choirs. All the composers, soloists, conductors and, it seemed, much of the audience, were associated with the University. As one of the outsiders, I was duly humbled.
Three of the choral works were new to the Proms but the World Premiere, a BBC commission, came from recent fellow of Corpus Christi college, Ryan Wigglesworth, and this has to be the first time a Proms composer has owned up to a serious of righteous "steals" (ie borrowings from works he has long admired) as the basis for his own musical narrative. His title, The Genesis of Secrecy, underlines his refusal to reveal what they are, though I would venture that it is Messiaen's "Turangalila" Symphony that illuminates the opening seconds like a warning flare.
From that source of energy, Wigglesworth powers the momentum of his beautifully worked piece. But it is the moments of deep repose and expansion that anchor it and tell us that these notes come from somewhere.
That's the mysterious thing about music: it's easy to recognise but hard to define what makes it special. Vaughan Williams' Five Mystical Songs may be the work of an agnostic, but its abiding spirituality could make believers of us all. Simon Keenlyside and choirs from combined Cambridge colleges sang it with uplifting honesty.
Then the triptych of choral works: Stanford's fine, upstanding Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis, with its spookily Brahmsian orchestral writing; Jonathan Harvey's beautiful setting Come, Holy Ghost where cathedral acoustics are all but written into the piece and celestial dissonances miraculously blur into a hypnotic consonance; and Judith Weir's Ascending into Heaven, characteristically playful, the final wisps of choral sound on upward glissandi like little shooting stars.
One suspects that Camille Saint-Saens' arrival at the pearly gates went something like his Symphony No. 3 "Organ". What was he doing here? An honorary degree, it seems. I would honour him solely on the basis of that seraphic tune in the slow movement. Andrew Davis and the BBC Symphony strings indulged it gratefully while Thomas Trotter, with some judicious registrations, made a mighty Wurlitzer of the Royal Albert Hall organ.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments