Thoroughly Good Classical Music

First Night is always about creating a big broadcast moment that establishes the rest of the season in the minds of the listening, watching and ticket-buying audience. Clara Schumann’s Piano Concerto is front and centre in this opening night concert. Some ‘splashy’ moments in the concerto. The night concludes with a dull Beethoven 5. 🔊Listen

All the dance hits that make toes tap, knees bend and the heart beat a little faster. Like the Ibiza Prom a few years back, its good to hear some iconic melodies given an orchestral treatment. The broadcast has a sophisticated Friday Night is Music Night vibe and reflects the BBC’s new music management’s strategy of defining classical music as anything that contains an orchestra in it. Some of the arrangements work – I Will Survive, Rasputin has a clever introduction and Native New Yorker retains its original charm. Night Fever is a disappointment vocally. Fun. Some of the backing vocals in places don’t quite hit the mark. 🔊Listen

VOCES8 have played a crucial role in rescuing the BBC Singers. Their growing involvement in the BBC Proms is testament to the groups’ entrepreneurial spirit and its consequential commercial appeal. Here they pair up with The King’s Singers to present a characteristically mixed programme. Cheryl Frances-Hoad’s Beyond the Night Sky and Bob Chilcott’s High Flight rub shoulders with Disney classics, Paul Simon’s The Sound of Silence and Billy Joel. Unapologetic shifts toward The Swingle Singers gives this concert an oddly festive feel. 🔊Listen

Without doubt the best concert of the Proms in this season so far. A blistering performance of Mahler’s 5th from arguably the finest orchestra in the UK. The energy and attack the players bring to the symphony is spectacular. A special performance. If you’re new to the season or orchestral classical music then this is a good place to start. Those who are drawn to especially gut-wrenching music should lean into the slow movement 🔊Listen

Without doubt the BBC National Orchestra of Wales best Prom so far in the season. Much better than the Verdi the night before. Feels like this was the gig they wanted to play but couldn’t unless they agreed to doing the tub-thumper the night before. “We’re celebrating 150 years since Schoenberg’s birth,” says the announcer, “with three works by the composer in this year’s Proms season.” Only three? Maybe if the overbearing management had heeded advice and ditched Sam Smith, the Disco Prom and the shameless Doctor Who love-in maybe there would have been more time for one of the most important composers of the 20th century.

Pelleas and Mellisande was sound programming – the first niche-like piece of programming this season underlining how the BBC are now terrified of doing anything other than the guaranteed box office bangers. The performance of Schoenberg’s 1905 work feels more rounded than the Verdi night before (no surprises, there’s less to marshall on stage). And Zemlinsky’s The Mermaid? A musical book at bedtime. A pot boiler. Ravishing stuff. The epitome of what Thoroughly Good is all about: discovery. Richly theatrical, evocative and all-encompassing. If you struggle with the idea of Wagner, then Zemlinsky’s your musical layby en route to the ultimate destination. 🔊Listen

Plenty of cracking tunes in Verdi’s epic Requiem. Soprano Latania Moore makes my speaker shudder every time she sings – a powerful singer whose electrifying communication isn’t dented by broadcast. The trio of soloists are mostly beautifully matched. Occasional ensemble issues between the soloists and woodwind entries create moments of distraction. As fun as the Libera Me sounds to sing, there are moments when cohesion is lacking in the chorus; the concluding fortissimo sounds like all on stage are tearing something from the earth in a fit of pique. Broadly the performances feels like it was in places challenging to hold together. A performance for those who like exercising a critical ear.🔊Listen

Jakub Józef Orliński is one of those rare performers whose energy, spirit and expression is so immediate that they are discernible via a radio broadcast. His voice is exquisite, nestling in perfectly amongst the musical drama created by the intricate textures created, here, by Il Pomo D’Oro. Renaissance music is a distant land which always triggers the most rampant version of my imposter syndrome. Yet, the intimacy of the sound world here makes me feel not just at home but welcome too.

I listened to this concert after Aurora’s performance of Beethoven 9 (Prom 42) – the difference in detail, precision and string textures is remarkable, with Aurora casting shadow on BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra in this concert. In the opening Brahms symphony, the strings sometimes have a splashy quality in the fortissimos with the upper range of the first violins sounding a little thin or tinny. Woodwind ensemble entries sometimes sound a little ill-disciplined. The third movement’s graceful melancholy comes across well and avoids wallowing in languid sentimentality. After the disappointing results of the Brahms, the Schoenberg wasn’t quite as convincing as I’d hoped. The arrangement here for string orchestra exposed some imprecise entries typically more difficult to determine in the original single instrument scoring which typically results in a pleasingly grittier feel. 🔊 Listen

Loved the concert opener. Erkki-Sven Tüür’s Aditus is a vast ocean liner technicolour showcase for the orchestra. The material isn’t necessarily expansive, but the effects are pleasing. Yunchan Lim’s Beethoven Emperor concerto has a gorgeous second movement in it (the first feels a little like the band are set way back in the mix). Bruckner’s first symphony unexpectedly delights–this from someone who still doesn’t understand what Bruckner’s symphonies are for exactly. 🔊 Listen

Smith’s characteristic vocals blend seamlessly with Simon Hale’s expansive orchestrations, providing both weight and lift to the performance. This is evident in tracks like “I’m Not The Only One,” “Like I Can,” with its muted trombones and tub-thumping percussion, and “How Do You Sleep?” “I’ve Told You Now” is beautifully arranged, enhancing the sweetness of the song, while “Leave Your Lover,” with its Lennon and McCartney overtones, builds intimacy with lush strings and bittersweet oboe counter-melodies. Though the delicate approach to voicing sometimes sacrifices enunciation, Smith’s soulful tones dominate.

Academy Award and Golden Globe-winning “Writing’s on the Wall,” with its grand theatrical feel from the Bond movie Spectre, hints at where Smith truly excels. This is likely what the BBC envisioned for this concert—a plausible crossover point between pop and classical, with the setting and atmosphere aligning perfectly. Smith’s breakout track “Stay With Me,” which followed directly, serves as a rousing anthem that wouldn’t feel out of place in a revamped Last Night of the Proms.

The second half features a few jazz favourites, with Clare Teal’s “Messin’ with Fire” given a technicolour treatment “Fever” is a revelation. The nauseating inclusion of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” falls flat for me. Smith continues to divide opinion, with fans adoring him and critics scrutinising him—scrutiny that Smith relishes and in some respects, benefits from. His inclusion in the Proms this year drew significant criticism, but the event ultimately garnered substantial praise, likely vindicating BBC management. This success may help secure the format of giving significant pop artists the orchestral treatment in future Proms seasons, even if it’s still difficult to justify within the context of ‘the world’s greatest classical music festival.’ 🔊 Listen

Jonathan Harvey’s meditative Tranquil Abiding is simple in its premise—in-breaths and out-breaths denoted by alternating notes throughout the work—evocatively executed, and highly effective. Harvey’s work sets things up nicely for Elgar’s Cello Concerto that follows. Soloist Senja Rummukainen has the work and its expressive demands comfortably within her grasp. Her interpretation is fervent yet resolute and hopeful, infusing the work with a sense of hope—a refreshing alternative to performances that lean more on visceral and jagged expression.

Fiona Maddocks was spot on in 2020—it’s incredible to think that The Cloud Messenger was written before The Planets and premiered in the same year as Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring. The orchestral and vocal writing anticipates The Planets with eye-popping effect bestowing The Cloud Messenger with prequel status—a satisfying treasure trove of Holstian calling cards that opens the door to further musical discovery. 🔊 Listen

Conductor John Storgårds reading of Tchaikovsky’s 4th symphony was fresh and invigorating. Tchaikovsky’s grand statements and virtuosic performances excursions contrasted with slower than anticipated introspective sequences in the first and second movements that took their time and prompted us all to lean in or take a deep breath. This consistent strategy made the fourth movement fireworks all the more gratifying. This interpretation breathed new life into this familiar work. Really enjoyed it. The horn concerto before was interesting but not something I especially want to hear again. The Schumann overture pleasant but instantly forgettable. 

Beethoven’s violin concerto is the monster of all violin concertos, scrutinised by experts, armchair critics and unflinchingly loyal aficionados alike. It’s epic, unapologetically long, and laden with historical and emotional baggage. Pulling it off demands a strategic mindset with a careful eye on the overarching narrative mapped out in the composer’s expansive score. I feared it as a teenager; I relish it now. Packed full of compositional detail to delight the senses, this performance from Tobias Feldmann and the BBC Philharmonic conducted by Anja Bihlmaier is riveting from beginning to end. Much needed reassurance after. Definitely worth your attention—especially after the comparatively flabby and lacklustre Dvorak Cello and Mozart Clarinet concertos I heard before this. Sarah Gibson’s Warp and Weft in the second half is interesting but didn’t hold my attention. The Brahms Symphony No. 4 felt underpowered in the first movement–almost a bit too polite–though there were some gorgeous gritty muscular string sounds in the third and fourth movements. 🔊 Listen

A blistering performance of an iconic violin concerto. If you need something to evidence for that bold claim, listen to the cadenza (the solo bit towards the end of the first movement). The tone is consistent – blazing – throughout with a passionate defiant character emanating from the music. The precision in every placed note is electrifying, mirrored by the taut transitions from one chord to another in the orchestral accompaniment that follows. The lyrical chorale that opens the second movement is precise, heartfelt and well-balanced setting the scene for a solo line that digs deep and soars high. The concluding movement – an exhilarating impassioned last hurrah infused with a gritty gypsy vibe. There is both depth and sweetness here mixed with a vivacious spirit that makes this performance one of the undoubted high points of the season. 🔊 Listen

I didn’t hold out a great deal of hope when I heard the intro for this Prom. Karl Jenkins is synonymous with teenage Saturday afternoon jaunts to the cinema, his music earnestly promoting hopeful local jewellers. The music sold Jenkins better than the retail outlets in the final analysis. Ignore the crusty critics analysis, Jenkins concerto written for saxophonist Jess Gillam thrills, impresses and delights. His score is for her (and the audience) defying snooty detractors at the same time. The Beethoven 7 that follows in the second half is bizarrely disappointing, the epic second movement funeral march a hurried ill-thought exercise. There are better Beethoven 7s. 🔊 Listen

A glorious concert and an even better radio broadcast, packed full of good choons, meaty organ cues, and epic symphonic storytelling. Radio 3 stalwart Penny Gore introduces with her reassuringly mellifluous tones, joined in the commentary box by historian Simon Heffer who provides some valuable context about the late 19th century/20th century composing scene. I hadn’t appreciated until now how crucial a role the Royal College of Music played in helping to platform the likes Howells, Holst, Moeran, and Elgar. For the unfamiliar such information will feel a little niche. However, if you stick with the broadcast end to end (the only one I’ve managed to do so far this season by the way), then you’ll not only get a useful survey of English classical in the first half of the 20th century, but you’ll also get a sense of what Radio 3 used to be like before the marketing types and their corporate overlords and ladies grabbed hold of the steering wheel. There are some collywobbles in the Cockaigne Overture mitigated by the hefty Royal Albert Hall Organ providing an unequivocal musical full stop at the end. The Stanford Songs of Faith are interesting if a little disjointed on a first listen. Holst’s Hammersmith is a bold harmonic exploration that casts a shadow on his more broadly appealing Planets Suite. But the star of the show is undoubtedly Vaughan Williams’ London Symphony. Here the BBC Symphony shine, telling an epic tale packed full of colourful scenes. The second movement is the kind of hard-won musical hug you didn’t realise you needed – those horn solos are heartbreaking. 🔊 Listen

Full disclosure, on two separate counts. Count one, I’m a clarinettist who hates the Mozart Clarinet Concerto. Sure, it’s pleasant, tuneful, and inoffensive. But it’s also the epitome of wallpaper. It’s also not technically demanding. I learned it for my Grade 6. As a result, you’ve got to do something extraordinary with it to cut through my scaly outer shell. Antony McGill makes a good fist of this. He meets the brief. But, and here I bring in the second count of disclosure, McGill’s name stirs unhappy memories. This is not necessarily his fault, though he might want to have a word with his management. Back in April his US PR ‘reached out’ pitching for a spot on the Thoroughly Good Classical Music Podcast. All were very keen. I was (because I’m a helpful chat) keen to block out some time. Everyone was up for it. Then, quite unexpectedly, the pitch was ‘withdrawn’. I protested about the paid hours I’d blocked out. The trail went dead. Where some of the ‘sixteenth notes’ in the first movement are a little ‘misaligned’ in places, the second movement is charming, but come the third movement there is, I’m sorry to say, a sense that (in the words of my old county youth orchestra conductor) ‘that ‘everyone is in a bit of a rush to get off the stage’. Decorative bits feel a little rushed and entries are anticipated just a little too early. The band sounds like they’re rushing to keep up. 🔊 Listen

Crowd-pleasing Mozart performed in an eyebrow-raising fashion. Classical music isn’t a museum (even if some people criticise it for being so) and should be open to re-interpretation by musicians and conductors. But there are moments in this concert which are a bit odd – the dramatic speed changes in the Marriage of Figaro Overture, the opening of Symphony 41, and Sinfonia Concertante. It’s sometimes a weighty thuddy sound that Ensemble Resonanz produces that feels almost too ‘muscular’ for Mozart throughout. The Don Giovanni overture feels as though things have evened out a little with the top-line strings a plausible contrast to the hefty bass lines – the timpani player sounds like he’s having a grand old time. Come the concluding movement of Symphony No. 41 I’m almost on the band’s side appreciating the different approach and hearing the bassoon lines dotted about, but still, the sudden shifts in speed grind my gears.🔊 Listen

Aurora Orchestra have cultivated an appetite amongst its audience for derring do, throughout its history exploring ‘innovative’ concert formats to gain cut-through. Playing from memory is something they appear to have settled on as a kind of calling card (surprising given that only ten years ago its conductor Nicholas Collon explained in interview how he was uncomfortable with the notion of ‘gimmicks’ in performance).

Yet, playing from memory has a profound and transformative effect on the musical storytelling. Beethoven’s choral symphony has a lightness and nimbleness in this jaw-dropping performance, bringing the music alive, supercharging it with energy. There is precision in the individual lines I’ve not heard before, so too tiny moments of musical expression between sections of the orchestra which are utterly glorious. The timpani in the second movement is fierce, the strings featherlike articulation brings me out in goosebumps. The third movement is ravishing.

I find the theatrical introductions in the first half of the concert off-putting (it’s just not to my taste) though I can see it’s a format that introduces the work to the widest possible audience and makes the performance more immersive. Made for broadcast (hence why the sound mix is so spot on and reveals so much detail) for BBC Four. 🔊 Listen

Orchestras from two international conservatoires join forces in an exploration of fairytale nymphs, cattle-farming and astrological mysteries conducted by Sakari Oramo (pictured below). Lara Poe’s commission Songs from the Countryside is rich and inventive, though its a little longer than listed in the programme. Soprano Anu Komsi has a breathtaking range and brings the expansive work to a coherent whole.

The Holst is the main event and largely doesn’t disappoint. The strings are underpowered in places, surprising given the number of them – 68 – on stage. The basses provide much-needed depth throughout and especially when combined with fruity contra-bassoons and a knee-trembling organ in Uranus, the Magician. The entire work is there for the timpanists who are, both of them, there for the entire work delivering with power and precision throughout.

There is some Sibelius that doesn’t need to be heard and The Wood Nymph is one such work. It’s got all the Sibelius calling cards which on paper makes it a pleasant listen, but some of the ideas needed a bit of an edit – the pay off doesn’t balance out the sometimes long and drawn-out wait. 🔊 Listen

It’s TV music—grand, for sure, but necessarily consisting of simple ideas repeated over and over again. This is evident in the opening track Fifteen, with its rock-infused sense of urgency, and in I am the Doctor, which, like Fifteen, prioritizes vibe over substance. However, many of Gold’s scores benefit from being given a larger platform, where the mix’s ambience adds weight to the orchestral sound. The Doctor, Donn and the Toymaker blends heroic, lyrical, and comic elements with a hefty dose of theatrical peril into one surprisingly taut medley, while In the Vortex conveys a mix of ethereal anticipation, introspection, and pantomime comedy.

Tracks like The Life of Sunday stand out, beginning with a solo piano and expanding into a large orchestral vista. 73 Yards to Finetime offers a darker, more compelling proposition, avoiding well-trodden paths in favour of something momentarily bleaker. Similarly, the Companions Suite demonstrates Gold’s knack for highly descriptive and efficient character sketching. The tracks that work best are those that weave different material together, especially when there’s a clear throughline in the music. The introduction of vocal lines, whether solo or choral, consistently adds a level of portentousness that bring me out in hives every time.

Ultimately, the Doctor Who Prom is a remarkable triumph, even if the music is one of many aspects of the ‘sci-fi’ drama that sets its worlds apart from the one I grew up with and adored. That the event can induce tears in its audience speaks to how Gold’s scores create a world in which a diverse audience feels seen, heard and appreciated. That’s quite some achievement for a TV show whose head writer regularly trolls some members of the audience and whose direction some commentators believe has long since lost its way. 🔊 Listen

After a brief slow introduction, a rip-roaring rollercoaster ride up and down the keyboard kicks off the first movement to this work, brimming with ideas that tell a cinematic tale without the pictures getting in the way. A little scoot back to an elegant bygone era in the second movement with what feels like some kind of courtly dance, after which things begin to disintegrate into something darker and a whole lot more menacing. The final movement starts as it means to go on with material that makes sense of an awkward, uncomfortable and uncompromising world with a musical dance to the death. A ravishing, jaw-dropping and exhilarating listening experience, made all the more remarkable when you consider the pianist Lahav Shani is also conducting the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra in the same work. A fabulous achievement. 🔊 Listen

If you’re looking for something a little off-the-beaten-track, then Josef Suk’s second symphony might fit the bill. There are hints of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, a whiff of angst-ridden Shostakovich, mystery, peril and redemption in this relatively unheard of and entertaining work. There are some ensemble issues in nearly every movement, though the string section feels most unified in nearly all but the final bars of the fourth movement. The Suk offers discovery of new material, where the first half of the concert–Dvorak’s much-loved Cello Concerto–offers discovery of an entirely different sort. Here, soloist Anastasia Kobekina is striving for something deeply personal and equally distinctive, though there are times when the orchestra isn’t necessarily aligned with her. Indeed there are a handful of bars where it sounds as if both orchestra and soloist aren’t even aware the other is even on the platform. It is the oddest and also the most fascinating of performances, underlining the gratifying jeopardy to be found in live music-making. Not the Czech Philharmonic’s finest hour. Be sure to listen out for the jaw-dropping back-announcement from the presenter who perhaps didn’t need to say anything at all, and yet he did. 🔊 Listen

Much of my fascination with Mancini’s music is to do with the efficiency of his writing and the rigorousness of his production. Pop, soul and jazz are brought to life through sparse but deft orchestrations. This gig is one of many across the UK that has capitalised on the Mancini centenary this year but the realisation here didn’t quite resonate for me. The orchestrations were original but didn’t necessarily breathe new life into the much-loved classics like Moon River, possibly a consequence of the original defining qualities. Lujon delivered, whereas Soul Bossa Nova lacked the gritty heart Austin Powers franchise shamelessly celebrated. The second half seemed to Monica Mancini delighted in Bacharach’s The Look of Love, and Scott and Marlow’s A Taste of Honey remained loyal in the expanded orchestration for the BBC Concert Orchestra. Legrand’s heartbreaking Windmills of Your Mind seemed to have all the pathos bled out of it in pursuit of a cruise ship entertainment alternative–the point at which I abandoned the entire thing. If you do listen, be warned that the on-stage presentation is as long as it is pleased with itself. 🔊 Listen

This performance of Berlioz’s much-loved from Klaus Mäkelä and Orchestre de Paris is riveting. Unexpected colours and textures, a fresh angle on the story in the music, and some delicious details. Loved it.

I tried my absolute best with this concert. The Lili Boulanger Pie Jesu was interesting, absorbing and in places gorgeous. Worthy of a listen and adding to a playlist. The Faure Requiem was disappointing. Chorus was imperceptible–I suspect told to sing really quietly. So quietly in fact that at times the voices sounded unsupported and therefore a little bit wobbly. I got part way through the Sanctus and gave up. Note: Soprano soloist Golda Schultz and the always adorable baritone Jacques Imbrailo were brill here. 🔊 Listen

There aren’t many guarantees in live classical music making, but Simon Rattle is one of the them. Everything he touches turns to gold. After an all too brief (but understandably so) stint with the LSO, Rattle rises again with the BRSO. Set your tape recorders for this one. It’s like the Lord of the Rings for people who find reading a bit tiring. Too many delights to document here, but if you’re an insistent type then be warned the second movement will rip your heart out and see it sold to the highest bidder. Required listening. 🔊 Listen

Finnish conductor and pianist Tarmo Peltokoski has an impressive biography, having secured positions with four international orchestras. He’s 24. Expectations were high. The Shostakovich was disappointing. Transitions were rushed, some so much so that the ensemble suffered in places, and opportunities for pathos and poignancy were missed out on. The performance as a whole felt as though the heart of the work had been dispensed with. The collywobble in the cellos at 1hr 54′ was deeply unsettling.

This isn’t my night of the Proms. Far from it. The material is light, underscored with a fear of anything deep, meaningful or reflective. Entertainment from beginning to end shaped for TV. Nauseating in places on radio and on TV. The high point? Saint-Saens Egyptian Piano Concerto (though quite why anyone thought the audience wouldn’t be able to cope with either the first nor the final movement, only the second – Saint-Saens is hardly heavy weather). After that, pianist Stephen Hough’s tribute to Disney composer Richard M. Herman–the musical manifestation of what the Last Night is about without being too obvious about it. Iain Farrington’s Extra Time was a clever TV tie-in with Gary Lineker (the BBC’s Head of Content Charlotte Moore was no doubt beside herself at so many BBC brands being referenced in such a short space of time), and showcased the composer’s deft skill at manipulating many a famous tune. And whilst Angel Blue’s appearance was delightful (why didn’t she appear elsewhere in the season where should could have had more time?) the whole night was at best orchestral music with some good tunes. Of course, its a party. But its also a shop window for a beleaguered industry. Still the BBC insists on reflecting what the masses think of classical rather than projecting what it really means to people.