To clap or not to clap

 

To clap or not to clap

When the music of Mozart and Beethoven and Brahms was being played, audiences regularly applauded when moved to do so, as well as eating and chatting during a performance, or yelling and throwing things if the music was not to their liking. By the late nineteenth century such behaviour was being discouraged by composers like Mendelssohn and Schumann, until it became the rule that no applause should occur until the end of the symphony or suite.

The debate continues to this day, with advocates of ‘no clapping until the end’ asserting that applause is distracting to the players and could break their concentration between movements. Their opponents say, with some logic, that if the music moves the listener to show appreciation, then that is entirely acceptable.

When asked what she felt about such applause, the violinist Elena Urioste said that she didn’t mind clapping between movements.  A comment made by a presenter at the Proms said that it indicated there were audiences new to the concert hall and that was surely to be welcomed. Isn’t music supposed to elicit an emotional response? That response may be internal and sober or elated and delirious, with many shades between.

A quick look at the reactions of professional musicians seems to confirm that they take pleasure in having their work appreciated and applauded instantaneously.

I don’t know whether concert etiquette is changing – you know, no clapping between movements - but the recording I have just watched seems to indicate that the audience is now allowed to applaud without stern looks being cast in their direction.

Maybe it was just this particular Proms performance, given by the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen and conducted by the Finnish violinist and conductor Pekka Kuusisto, which allowed such spontaneity. I have never seen and heard Vivaldi’s Four Seasons played with such verve and joy. The whole of the Royal Albert Hall was so involved in the performance and Pekka Kuusisto’s improvisations segued seamlessly into the original, giving an altogether fresher sound.

It was a stunning performance, available on BBC iPlayer and is preceded by 'Birds of Paradise' by Andrea Tarrodi and Beethoven's First Symphony.

Pekka Kuusisto is an engaging and innovative conductor and a brilliant violinist. To transform the Royal Albert Hall audience into a choir, as he does during the Beethoven work, is quite some feat. I don't think I've ever seen so much pleasure on the faces of musicians in a concert as was displayed here. 

In addition, he has a Swedish folk musician, Ale Carr, playing with him, on a cittern, a stringed instrument that looks like a lute, based on a Renaissance instrument. The whole concert is a delight and one I shall watch again and again.

 

The first day of Autumn 2009

Yesterday, August 31st, was the last Bank Holiday the UK will enjoy until December 25th, Christmas Day. (Scotland's last one was on August 3rd.) Though many people consider that Autumn has arrived, naturally enough when the Autumn school term is about to start or has already commenced, in my mind at least it is still Summer. Yesterday was a warm, sunny, beautiful day and this morning dawned bright and breezy.
Spiders are usually an indication that the season is changing as they come inside in droves but they have been in residence all this year. I know they keep the bugs down and they also amuse the cats and dogs, occasionally nipping their inquisitive noses. This does not dissuade the cats from consuming them - in fact, it probably makes them more determined. The dogs merely flatten them.
I am not a fan of spiders - a fact I repeat ad nauseam - though I appreciate their role in the greater order of things, but an increasing interest in photography has encouraged me to look more closely at them. I admire the efficiency of their design and the intricacy of their webs though too long spent studying them makes me itch.
On my way into the garden this morning I noticed a reddish-brown spider on the galvanised wire mesh panel that slots into the patio door groove (we have this so that small people, dogs and cats are safely contained while fresh air is free to enter) The mesh is 2" x 2" (50mm x 50mm) and the spider was about 0.6" (10mm) and actually rather pretty though the close-ups made me reconsider that opinion. Such a tiny creature, so beautifully constructed, so busy! It seemed to be attempting to build a web, though the constant opening and closing of the patio door must have disturbed it somewhat. He looks as though he's about to pounce - or perhaps he's practising his conducting gestures for the Proms


This is his underside - he looks a little embarrassed or is he simply 'hanging loose'?

I later identified it as a male Garden spider, Araneus quadratus, which is only slightly less common than its extremely common and widespread near relation Araneus diadematus. Males are smaller than females. There are some stunning photographs here. In our front garden we have two Kentish cob trees, brought to Berkshire when my parents moved here from Kent thirty years ago. They produce many cobnuts which are particularly relished by the squirrels - they have expensive tastes as cobs bought from Waitrose are currently £3.99 per kg. As squirrels are inveterate gardeners we have many saplings from the cobs and also from our corkscrew hazel, Corylus avellanus 'Contorta' - this used to be known as 'Harry Lauder's walking stick' as the singer and entertainer Harry Lauder (1870 - 1950) carried a crooked stick for every performance.

While photographing the cobs I noticed, as I do every year, and marvelled at the tight little catkins that will herald Spring in a few months' time, dancing in the breeze before the leaves unfurl. To paraphrase Shelley, 'If Autumn comes, can Spring be far behind?

Meanwhile the day that started so promisingly has commenced its downturn - the wind is strengthening, the temperature is dropping, splendid clouds have massed and are now emptying their contents vigorously on our sodden ground.