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Youthful opportunities

Jette Parker Young Artists Royal Opera Partenope The Proms The Royal Opera ended its season looking to the future, with its Young Artists Summer Concert on Sunday afternoon. Part I was most of Act I of Don Giovanni, and Part II two lengthy excerpts from Massenet’s Werther and Manon. I was only able to stay for the first half, having to get to the Prom performance of Handel’s Partenope, which began at 6 p.m. and went on for ever. Rory Macdonald conducted, and seemed anxious to show his authentic credentials, with the orchestra of Welsh National Opera, by taking the opening of the overture as unportentously as possible: you’d never guess that this music was going to accompany the entry of the Stone Guest.

Behind the scenes | 25 July 2009

We heard not one but three renditions of the traditional chorus ‘Heave ho’ on Friday night at the opening of this year’s Proms season. We heard not one but three renditions of the traditional chorus ‘Heave ho’ on Friday night at the opening of this year’s Proms season. Impromptu, responsive and a bit disrespectful, it’s the most British thing about this annual musical jamboree, much more so than ‘Rule Britannia’ or ‘Jerusalem’. The Prommers get the chance to join in, become part of the ‘live’ broadcast, as the lid of the precious Steinway piano is lifted into place.

Adult viewing

On a train the other day I overheard a teenage schoolgirl tell her friends, ‘I’m going to watch Channel 4 from eight to midnight!’ When I got home I checked the Radio Times: she was looking forward to Embarrassing Teenage Bodies, Big Brother, Ugly Betty and finally Skins. On a train the other day I overheard a teenage schoolgirl tell her friends, ‘I’m going to watch Channel 4 from eight to midnight!’ When I got home I checked the Radio Times: she was looking forward to Embarrassing Teenage Bodies, Big Brother, Ugly Betty and finally Skins. Only Ugly Betty could be called a programme for grown-ups, and opinions might differ on that. Thank heavens, there is still some non-teeny-telly left. Much of it is on BBC4.

Be selective | 22 July 2009

Corot to Monet National Gallery, until 20 September In the basement of the Sainsbury Wing is a free exhibition of paintings subtitled ‘A Fresh Look at Landscape from the Collection’. I always enjoy the rehanging of old favourites in new combinations because it not only reminds us of why we liked them in the first place but often allows us to see them in a new light, too. Different paintings hung together can arouse unaccustomed resonances, but it has to be done well, or the eye can be overwhelmed and the intended effects spoiled. Although this show contains many fine things, it projects a feeling of clutter, an air of academic overkill. I wanted to enjoy it more than I did, but with over 90 exhibits there were simply too many pictures.

Night to remember

Il barbiere di Siviglia; Tosca Royal Opera House The Royal Opera hasn’t had much luck or judgment in recent years in presenting Verdi, though, for various reasons, some of them interesting, his operas do seem to be at the present time recalcitrant to great productions, or for that matter good recordings. Pre- and post-Verdi Italian opera, or to be accurate Rossini and Puccini, have been faring rather better, and the round-up of Italians with which the season has concluded has landed one triumph and another near-triumph, though both have the disability of annoying sets and not particularly helpful producers. The first night of the revival of Il barbiere di Siviglia has already passed, and rightly, into operatic history.

In the footsteps of Tallis

This weekend I shall be conducting the winning entries in a new composition competition, to be broadcast at a future date on Radio Three’s Early Music Show, from York Minster. This weekend I shall be conducting the winning entries in a new composition competition, to be broadcast at a future date on Radio Three’s Early Music Show, from York Minster. Why it is thought appropriate to air the works of a 16- and 23-year-old on this particular show beats me, except that they will be sung by the Tallis Scholars and are written for unaccompanied voices. Still, whatever the forum, I am glad the competition is receiving this kind of exposure since the original entries, from all over the country, were of an encouragingly high quality.

Fly me to the moon

Looking back it was a nuts idea, to attempt to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade and bring him back safely, as JFK declared on 25 May 1961. And even more incredible that the Americans actually achieved it, on schedule in July 1969 while engaged in a costly war in Vietnam and Cambodia. But when the Soviet Union laid down the challenge by launching Yuri Gagarin into space on the jolly ship Sputnik, the Americans had to think of something they could achieve first. Nasa’s rocket programme was nowhere near ready to launch manned flights into space, and so it was out of desperation rather than from calculation that President Kennedy’s advisers came up with the idea of sending a man to the moon and bringing him back again.

Uppers and downers

Poor Michael Jackson. I know he was (probably) a kiddie fiddler and his music was crap, but that didn’t stop me empathising when watching Michael Jackson’s Last Days: What Really Happened (Channel 4, Sunday). Poor Michael Jackson. I know he was (probably) a kiddie fiddler and his music was crap, but that didn’t stop me empathising when watching Michael Jackson’s Last Days: What Really Happened (Channel 4, Sunday). Give or take the odd nose, skin-whitening operation, lurid court case, moon walk and dwindling multimillion-dollar fortune, there but for the grace of God went most of us.

Making tracks

Richard Long: Heaven and Earth Tate Britain, until 6 September The title of this exhibition may not be exactly modest, but then there is a god-like aspect to all artistic creativity, particularly when it operates in the domain of Land Art. Some practitioners of this genre have literally made the earth move in their excavations and reshapings of nature, others keep their human interventions to a minimum. Richard Long (born 1945) is one of the latter, confining his activities principally to walking and to making tracks in the wild, or leaving behind him cairns of stones.

Extreme sport

Brüno 18, Nationwide Listen, and there is no easy way of putting this, so I’ll just come straight out with it: I think the joke may be over. I say ‘may’ because Brüno is still very funny, for which we must be intensely grateful, but Brüno is no Borat. I am sorry to be the one to give you this news and take absolutely no pleasure in it beyond the big kick I always get when I imagine I might have taken the shine off someone’s day. In fact, if it weren’t for that, this would hurt me as much as it hurts you. So, Brüno. Brüno is Sasha Baron Cohen’s gay, Austrian, spectacularly over-the-top fashionista character, and the film opens hilariously enough with Brüno wreaking havoc in an all-Velcro suit at a Milan fashion show.

Musical mockery

Forbidden Broadway Menier Chocolate Factory Dr Korczak’s Example Arcola High hopes at the Chocolate Factory. The Southbank’s liveliest producing house has a great record for taking shows into the West End. Musicals are a speciality and the latest has just arrived from New York. Forbidden Broadway was created nearly three decades ago by rookie writer Gerard Alessandrini who hoped it might earn him some hackwork as a lyricist. The show ran for 27 years. In this version, spruced up and adapted for London, every aspect of theatre gets a splattering. Costly tickets, tacky souvenir shops, greedy impresarios, the glut of film revivals and the use of video projections instead of real sets.

Loss leaders

In Britain we seem to like success but are fascinated by failure. This is reflected in our popular television. We loved a failed manager (The Office), a failed hotelier (Fawlty Towers), failed totters (Steptoe and Son), failed human beings (Hancock’s Half Hour). Admittedly, comedy is about the gap between aspiration and achievement, and that means failure, yet the Americans, who adore success, manage to find humour in largely functional characters. Frasier might have been clownish, but he was an esteemed psychotherapist. Cosby was a thriving doctor, and the various Friends had decent jobs, most of the time. Even Joey, the only idiot among them, starred in a daytime soap. It’s not just comedy.

Age concerns

Driving means manipulating a dangerous piece of machinery at speeds beyond anything for which evolution has prepared you, reacting to a multitude of visual signals and warnings, calibrating and recalibrating velocity, distance, direction and stability, all the time guessing the intentions and anticipating the possible actions of unnumbered others performing the same tasks in the same places at the same times. And this while talking, listening, daydreaming, trying to work out where you are and where you should be. Yet we know that as we get older we get worse at most things. Surely age affects this too?

Summer round-up 2

There’s a run of fine shows among the commercial galleries at the moment: perhaps they’re gearing up for the August recess, or simply facing out the recession. There’s a run of fine shows among the commercial galleries at the moment: perhaps they’re gearing up for the August recess, or simply facing out the recession. Whichever, there’s plenty to see, and a good place to start is with Browse & Darby’s 33rd annual exhibition (19 Cork Street, W1, until 24 July), a mixed summer show guaranteed to spring some surprises among the expected masters.

Bruce almighty

The Telegraph sent me to do a piece on Glastonbury the other week. The crush of the crowd, the stink of the burgers, the even worse stench from the lavatories, the fact that most people seemed to be half-drunk or stoned, and the loneliness of wandering around the site, utterly miserable, when everyone else appeared to be having a high old time with friends or loved ones, reminded me of Mephistopheles’s great line in Dr Faustus: ‘Why this is hell, nor am I out of it.’ When the thunder and lightning started, followed by rain so heavy it drenched you in seconds, I felt more miserable than I have in years. As I fled the site I made a firm vow never to return to Glasto. Once was more than enough.

Wall of sound

What was the very first sound you heard this morning? Have you noticed how many planes have rumbled overhead since the beeping of the alarm penetrated your consciousness? Can you hear birdsong above the din of traffic? The new Save our Sounds campaign launched by the BBC’s World Service is trying to make us more aware of the sonic soundscapes in which we live. We’re all very clued up on visual interference, blots on the landscape, the way buildings look and affect our aesthetic sensibility, but we tend to overlook the sonic soundscape which surrounds us.

Glass act

As usual after the end of Chelsea Flower Show, I felt as flat as champagne left out in the sun. I was glad that I had a holiday in Boston (Mass. rather than Lincs.) in prospect. And, as luck would have it, the trip provided me with an unexpected botanical box of delights, exactly where I was not looking for it. That place was the Museum of Natural History at Harvard, where the Ware Collection of Glass Flowers is housed. I don’t know why I had never heard of this — plainly very famous — collection before. But I have now.

What a jumble

The Abduction from the Seraglio Opera North Un Ballo in Maschera Royal Opera House As I took my seat for Act II of Opera North’s new production of Mozart’s The Abduction from the Seraglio, the woman sitting next to me — we hadn’t met — said, ‘Have you any idea what’s going on in this opera?’ and I said I hadn’t, at any rate in this production. Everyone agrees that Mozart’s dramatic sense deserted him quite extensively in Seraglio, but it was left to the director Tim Hopkins, who was also responsible for the designs, to remove whatever dramatic impetus the work has and to come up with something that is as hopelessly messy to follow as it is to look at.