After - how many?! oh no!! - decades of living in London and attending its various flawed concert halls, I had a huge surprise the other day. Tom's orchestra, the London Philharmonic, is (like its sister Philharmonia) currently homeless while the Royal Festival Hall undergoes its long-awaited refurbishment. So they're playing next door at the Queen Elizabeth Hall instead. Normally I loathe the QEH. It's a miserable concrete monstrosity and its gloomy interior induces little other than sleepy ennuie.....well, until now. What happened? They've opened up the platform so that it's far deeper than usual; they've put up some wooden acoustic stuff (looks a little like stacked up coffins) to the back and sides and - bingo! The band and Vassily Sinaisky started up some lovely Glinka and there was the sound we'd always wanted. Resonant. Warm. Clear. Close. Wallow-in-able. Glorious. Right there in our very own QEH. I was speechless.
Great concert too - another first was hearing Tchaikovsky's Third Symphony live in a concert hall. A work I've always loved from recordings but one that never normally gets played, except for the New York City Ballet performing Balanchine's 'Jewels'. Tchaikovsky in a good mood is such a rarity that it's surprising nobody makes the most of it when it happens, as it undoubtedly does here. The nickname 'Polish' makes me laugh, though, because - except for the Polonaise in the last movement - this music is so terrifically, unmistakeably Russian...
The evening was only marred a little by the Dvorak Cello Concerto, played passably - I use this word with reason, as you'll see in a mo - by the LPO's quasi-resident soloist, Pieter Wispelwey. He's a handsome Dutch fellow (peculiarly resembling a leading British politician) who is very good at Bach in period style. No reason, I guess, why he should have a grander concept of the Dvorak, given that his natural bent is clearly not for romanticism. But hear that famous recording of Slava playing his guts out, and one wonders why anything less would ever do. Playing aside, Wispelwey's facial expressions - ranging from apparent surprise to intense frustration to incipient apoplexy - conjured up for me startlingly marvellous images of Tony Blair in need of prunes.
UPDATE: SUNDAY MORNING - Here's Anna Picard's review of the concert from The Independent - she has less time than me for the QEH acoustics, and more for Wispelwey's playing, but her impression of his face is even more extreme than mine...!
5 comments:
Hello Jessica
Recently discovered your blog and value it highly.
You mention the refurbishment of the Royal Festival Hall and I wonder what you think of what is happening there. While I support a once in a generation closure for major maintenance, I'm deeply depressed by the development outside the auditorium. To me the addition of extensive retail space is turning a much-loved building, the site of all the most intense musical experiences of my life, into something with the atmosphere of Terminal 4 of a major airport.
That this is a focus for those steering the redevelopment is evident in their writings. For example, on the RFH website at http://www.rfh.org.uk/main/transforming/future.asp?subpage=whatsnext is a description of the programme which starts "What's Next... The South Bank Centre will continue to develop and refurbish its facilities and site incrementally."
This 1019 word article contains the words "music" and "auditorium" just twice, and then not until we are 441 words in. But it mentions "retail and catering outlets" three times, the first time within 84 words. The same pattern has been followed in much of the publicity for this programme.
Only this week, the latest monthly mailing from the South Bank arrived, and the first thing that dropped out of the envelope was a little booklet "SHOP & EAT at Festival Riverside: Discount vouchers." ("Giraffe 2 for 1: Get Brekkie Buddies 2 for 1 Breakfasts. 7:45-11:45 Mon-Fri only. Valid till November 30th 2005.")
Aside from the arrival of the shopping mall, I am very sceptical about the programme from an architectural view. The whole South Bank site is a brutal concrete slab that has unwelcoming areas, particularly in winter. But in my experience if there is one thing worse than an unfortunate building from a past era, it's an unfortunate building from a past era that has been mucked about with by well-intentioned people from a later time. In twenty years' time we will be wondering how we couldn't see that lots of 21st century glass tacked onto the front of the building would make it worse rather than better.
I know that the audience for classical music is shrinking at 1% or so a year, and that if the sums aren't made to add up there won't be any facilities for the audience that does remain. But I'm simply aghast at the lapse of taste that these plans demonstrate. What's your view?
About Wispelwey playing Dvorak, isn't that like hearing Landowska playing Rachmaninoff? His early Bach recordings are transcendent. I use them as examples of how Bach should be played (I'm one of a minority who hates those Casals recordings -- how NOT to play Bach!) But I'm very curious to have heard his interpretation.
And about RFH/QEH/South Bank, I lived in London for a couple of years in the 70's and spent many many hours at concerts there. I've always been amazed that London has one of the liveliest music scenes in Europe, but the worst venues. RFH looked like Terminal 4 even back then, cold and painfully uninviting. So maybe as the audience for "serious" music declines, maybe the size of their venues will too. I heard incredible concerts back then in small churches... recitals and chamber ensembles. One such performance at a church in Hampstead whose name I've forgotten stands out. Perhaps that's the way of the future?
The South Bank's architecture was always a lapse of taste and it's a matter now, I reckon, of making the best of a bad job. Actually I far prefer the shops and food under the RFH to what was there before - ie, nothing. The South Bank used to be a wasted opportunity and a wasteland to boot: all concrete, skateboarding yobs and down-and-outs. The atmosphere was threatening, miserable and depressing. I know the current plans are probably not ideal for what should be one of the world's top concert halls, but I think it's infinitely improved. And Wagamama/Giraffe/Strada are much more appealing than the former RFH cafeteria, appallingly overpriced and appalling gastronomically. Today the place is lively, bright and attractive, which has to be good for audience figures. People these days want a Good Night Out all round - these are no longer the days when miserable environments and bad food were deemed somehow good for you. From the 1950s to 70s, there was an element in the British zeitgeist that faintly aspired to resembling East Berlin; in the 1980s, Thatcher's cuts meant that nothing creative could happen because everything was so run down. Are we allowed to have some fun now? I hope so.
I am OBSESSED with Russian music...I can't get enough!
Love your blog:)
Couldn't agree with you more about the RFH updates, Jessica. It's a vast improvement on the bleak concrete river-walk. It's about time concert venues became a little more interactive and all-inclusive. There's too many buildings around that shout out "you're only here for one reason - to shut up and listen to the music"... :)
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