first night

Last night, I went to the first prom of my life. But not only was it a prom, it was a Prom, a concert in London's traditional summer series, staged for the first time in 1895. The vast majority of concerts take place in Royal Albert Hall (right next to Imperial College), a venue with 4000 seats and standing room for 1500. It is this standing room that's at the heart of the Proms.

Standing-room tickets are sold only on the day of the show, for the pittance of five pounds. The quality of the acts on show means that sometimes the lines are outrageous. I was apprehensive when walking by Albert Hall yesterday in the afternoon after working out in the park. At two in the afternoon, a good twenty people were already waiting.

They had come to see Gustavo Dudamel, a 27-year-old conductor and one of the brightest light in classical music these days. I joined in around six, an hour and a half before the show, and the length of the line was still within limits. Half an hour later, ticket sales began, and another half hour later I was inside.

Royal Albert Hall is a stunning sight, especially from the middle of the arena looking up. The highest bleachers must be a good sixty feet up. As I hadn't come for the architecture or design but for the music, I directed my gaze towards the stage. Where I stood, fifteen feet away, I had a great view.

When the music started, my legs were already a bit tired, on account of the hour-long work-out in the park earlier during the day. The music was great, no doubt, but I also noticed things I didn't like, behavior that annoyed me. One has to accept tourists as a fact of life here, but do they have to take their pictures during a concert? And what is it with the uncultured folks on the cheap seats starting to clap not only before the post-music silence, so essential for the enjoyment of a work, has faded, but while the last harmony was still reverberating through the hall? To the credit of the rest of the audience, despite the barbarians' insistence (check out minute 52 of the first broadcast – quite hilarious in retrospect) the transgression didn't catch on and they finally relented, most ignominiously. Shortly thereafter, applause broke loose like a raging bull.

The concert continued, just as spectacularly, after the intermission, but this post is too long already. I fear I'll have to expand this experience into a full-length piece for my web site. Conclusion for now: I prefer a comfy chair over standing for hours, but last night's concert was hard to beat. Dudamel is a dedicated conductor, his musicians work hard for him, and the audience appreciates it passionately.