“Meticulous, mellifluous, magical: Dvořák’s symphony never sounded so sensational”
If you think you’ve never heard of Antonin Dvořák’s work before, you’re probably wrong. You can hear his rather obvious influence in modern film scores, particularly those by John Williams. Jaws- check. Star Wars? Check. Hell it’s even in Ridley Scott’s Hovis loaf advert. Classical romanticism is alive and well coming out of our surround sounds cinema speakers. So it was with great excitement that BBC Proms gave Dvořák’s most famous piece, New World Symphony the air to breathe all its four movements.
Starting proceedings in the packed Hall, we are treated to two beautiful, intimate pieces. The first by the fabulously named Adulphus Hailstork (he was even in the audience!)- His piece An American Port of Call rose in waves, lilting like a sail in the breeze. It gave the feeling of travelling beyond the horizon, somewhere new and unexplored. A perfect opener for the night. This was followed by Jennifer Higson’s Blue Cathedral, A piece so regally ethereal it felt like I was an a coronation. Stirring strings created a sense of wonder; the spectacularly varied use of percussion in this piece really stood out to me: mixing the harp with tubular bells, blending into clarinet solos. It gave mellifluousness.
Rounding off the first half was the sensational trumpeter soloist Pacho Flores. The rendition of Arturo Marquez’s Concierto de Otoño 19 was performed with such passion and liveliness I half thought the standing stalls audience might turn into an impromptu flamenco mosh pit.
The second half was given over to the pleasure of 1893’s New World Symphony, a piece that not only made its creator famous at the time, but enabled the emerging United States to showcase its cultural might through grandiose classical music. Dvořák’s compositions are known for being multilayered, often utlising codas, motifs and leitmotifs. The first movement arrives with bombast and aplomb, the 2nd slips in with a wistful longing, a mournfulness that allows audience to reflect in stillness. By the 3rd movement we really begin to see the elements of epic evocation that would go on to inspire countless movie scores, and when the two-tone duh-duh duh-duh of the 4th movement arrives à la Jaws, the audience is basically whipped into a frenzy. The woodwind section plays off the brass section, which in turn plays against the huge string section. There are adagios leading into accelerandos that in turn lead into the big crescendo finale. What a showstopper! Everyone involved, from conductor Domingo Hindoyan to the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, to the very walls of the Hall itself appeared to be having the best time. My only criticism, and this may be due to how the BBC records its radio broadcast for the Proms, is that there was no interaction between conductor, orchestra and audience, no patter in between pieces, no introductions or chat filling any silence. In this sense there was a slight sense of detachment to proceedings but again this could just be down to broadcasting logistics.
Music, particularly when it is presented without lyrics, visuals or other potential distractions, is a tool for catharsis and contemplation. There is no choice but to exist together in this sonic moment. BBC Proms has yet again created a joyous, accessible night out exploring contemporary pieces against the backdrop of famous nostalgia.