BEETHOVEN NIGHT AT ALBERT HALL “PROMS”

Press, Volume XC, Issue 27463, 24 September 1954, Page 10

BEETHOVEN NIGHT AT ALBERT HALL “PROMS”

(From the London Correspondent of “The Press”)

LONDON, September 7. The bust of Sir Henry Wood beamed happily down from its honoured place behind the London Philharmonic Orchestra in the Royal Albert Hall on Friday evening. There was every reason tor a beaming smile, for the famous Promenade Concerts he established ahd conducted for so long were celebrating their sixtieth (Diamond Jubilee) season before a packed peopfe rspirinfi audience of nearly 8000 British people have always been musical and when a young and unmusician, Henry J. Wood, cont^le rst series of concerts in 1895 there was an instant interest from public. The first concert was a curious mixture of grand selections and romantic ballads, but as the idea flowered and Londoners acquired the habit of dropping into the Queen’s Hall, new works by Tchaikovsky and Wagner, and others who are now world-famous composers, were introduced.

Each year there was progress and Promenaders went to hear and enjoy music even more novel by young men such as Elgar, Sibelius, Strauss and Vaughan Williams. By World War I they were well established as a series of concerts of first-class music. The coy Victorian pieces had disappeared. *“1927 the 8.8. C. took over responsitoW for the financial side, leaving Sir Henry Wood free to concentrate en ,H rely on his mu sical responsibilities. The season lasts for two months and now has an audience of millions, because the programmes are broadcast But one must attend the Albert Hall to really appreciate the fullness of these wonderful “Prom” concerts.

The idea of the “Proms” was to provide, the best music at the cheapest possible .price for the most people. This is still its object. As there was insufficient room for the thousands of music-lovers to sit down and hear the music, they had to stand up and “promenade”-—at least that was the idea.

A first-visit to the Albert Hall and the “Proms,” is a memorable experience and one which all visitors to London should seek to include in their programme.

The Royal Albert Hall centre pit was jammed sardine-tight half an hour before the concert was due to start. The area was completely cleared of seats to form the “promenade” but there were so many young people crammed into it that movement of any kind was almost impossible. Fixed gallery seats enclosed this area and then rose stately tiered boxes above which was the upper gallery and above this again, seemingly lost in

the blue haze of tobacco smoke, was the balcony where morp enthusiasts stood. The orchestral platform was in front of the huge pipe organ, similar in many ways to the stage arrangement at the Dunedin Town Hall. Every inch of standing and seating space was taken, while outside a 50 yard queue six deep vainly waited in the vague hope that more room would somehow be made available. The “promenaders” were dressed to suit the informality of the occasion. Jackets were soon discarded in the heat of the hall, ties were torn off and musical shores were dragged out by the hundreds of students inter-* woven through the crowd. Some swayed with the music, several even conducted quietly to themselves but thralfed at ma^Ority *’ ust iistened > cn ”

Basil Comeron led the London Philharmonic through Beethoven’s Symphony No. I in C and then Solomon came out to play with the orchestra the Concerto No. 4 in G. It was magnificent and it evoked the thunderous applause only heard in the Royal Albert Hall for a great performance. Solomon who played superbly in New Zealand earlier this year was at his greatest. The crowd would not let him go until he had answered six calls. Symphony No. 8 in F followed before the interval. The buffet and bars were packed even more tightly than the "promenade” had been and total strangers applauded or criticised the music to me as I jostled towards the coffee counter. The famous English reserve does not apparently extend as far as the “Proms?

In the corridor I heard a woman explaining to an official that she had “come all the way from Australia” to hear the “Proms” and she could not get in. He was courteous but firm and merely pointed to the crush of people. If a roll had been taken the world would have answered. There were crew-cut Americans, Indian women in beautiful saris, Africans, Australians, New Zealanders (proud to see John McCaw playing clarinet in the orchestra) and Frenchmen talking even more volubly than the English students.

The second portion of the concert always brings a change. This June it was Sibelius and his Symphony No. 4 in A minor which concluded a memorable occasion.

The “promenaders” filed out leaving sandwich papers lying on the red carpet. The fountain in the centre of the hall splashed gaily under its coloured lighting and everyone was happy.

Even the long wait in longer queues could not interrupt the pleasant atmosphere created by the “Proms.”