Defacing the music

Francis Poulenc’s opera Dialogues des Carmélites tells the story of 16 eponymous nuns guillotined in 1794 by the forces of progressive modernity.

Poulenc depicts this tragic event with poignant power. His nuns go to their fate chanting Salve regina, after which the sound of the falling blade is heard repeatedly over the orchestra. However, the same progressive modernity that popularised that sound so widely has now added another one, by way of counterpoint: crunching popcorn.

Some American tourists contributed that musical insight to the performance of the opera at the Proms the other day. Those sitting next to them failed to appreciate the subtle dissonance, and the two groups almost came to blows.

One concert-goer raised obvious concerns in a language harmonised with the Proms philosophy: “WTF is the Royal Albert Hall doing selling POPCORN during the Proms? Involved in a near fight at one tonight. Ruined the first half of a superlative evening.”

Allow me to explain WTF. The Proms were designed to carry real music to the masses, and the words ‘pearls’ and ‘swine’ never occurred to anyone at the time.

Since the masses, populus in the language of the Carmelites, only want popular entertainment (circenses), the Proms have developed along a certain vector pointing towards popular entertainment crystallised, which is to say a football match.

The organisers of the Proms have sought from the very beginning to eradicate every reminder of real music’s genesis in church liturgy. People are encouraged to go walkabout during the performance, talk to their friends, stamp their feet on the floor while applauding.

This process has been gradual, with new touches added year on year. Punk, pop and rap concerts are supplementing the usual musical diet, and of course popcorn the customary culinary one. The Carmelites can now go to their death to the accompaniment of sweets being unwrapped, crisps being crunched and popcorn being munched.

It’s not long before football-style chants will be allowed or even encouraged. “The conductor is a wanker!” and “You are shit and you know you are!” would be a good start.

I’d also recommend “Get your trills out for the lads!” when Yuju Wang is on the platform, or perhaps “Wang me rigid!” and “There’s only one Wang!”. A stock chant could also greet the appearance of any Korean performer: “He will play the whole score, then he’ll eat your Labrador!”

James Ainscough, Chief Executive of the Royal Albert Hall, can’t understand WTF the problem is: “We’ve sold small packets of popcorn, along with crisps and sweets, in our bars since 2014 without protest… Different people enjoy different shows in different ways, so we always hope audience members will be considerate of those around them, and polite when they speak to each other.” 

Allow me to translate: Vox populi has spoken, and all our concert organisers can do is hang on to every word and comply with every wish. If the people want to barrack the performer or, conversely, loudly cheer every fast passage, then by all means they should do so. That’s what carrying music to the masses really means.

Mr Ainscough didn’t even moot the possibility that, whatever refreshments are sold in the foyer, they may still be banned in the actual hall. That despotic infringement of the masses’ free self-expression isn’t unknown: many concerts halls display signs saying “No food or drink allowed beyond this point”.

However, any such restrictions would defeat the implicit purpose of the Proms: to lower music to the aesthetic level prevalent in stadium terraces. People like Mr Ainscough aren’t yet empowered to exclude real music from the Promenade Concerts. So they do the next best thing by slowly vulgarising it into oblivion.

Real music can only be fulfilled by a tripartite collaboration between the composer, the performer and the listener.

It goes without saying that the middle link in that chain, the musician, has to display prodigious powers of concentration when going about his task. What does need to be said is that the listener must concentrate just as hard, to make sure he stays in harmony with composer and performer.

Some of the composer’s intent is bound to be lost in the performance. Real music represents the acme of the human spirit, and any performer can only approach that summit without quite reaching it. The greater a musician he is, the smaller the shortfall, but some gap will always remain.

Similarly, even a listener with perfectly trained and attuned senses is bound to miss some of the musical nuances conveyed by the performer (I’m talking about real musicians, not anti-musical showmen like Lang Lang or aspiring pole dancers like Yuja Wang). It’s the task of every musician and every listener to make sure such unavoidable losses don’t distort the sublime meaning of music too much.

That’s why it’s critical that all extraneous distractions be eliminated from the concert hall. Even the slightest rustling noise can break the listener’s concentration, hurting not just his enjoyment (dread word) but the music being played. For a few moments his ability to participate in the collaboration is destroyed, meaning that so is the music.

Allowing any food, especially the noisy variety, into a concert hall is like allowing weapons into a stadium: the whole purpose of the event will be undermined. Yet I realise that the Ainscoughs of this world and I define the purpose of a concert differently.

All they want is to put more bums on seats, and the Royal Albert Hall has over 5,000 seats to fill with willing bums. If many of them go empty, that’s all the organisers’ job is worth, and they’ll do anything to stay in gainful employment.

That singlemindedness of purpose is shared by food franchises and also so-called music critics banging out equally gushing reviews of every performance, no matter how inept. Suggesting that a performance enjoyed (dread word) by so many was indeed inept would be tantamount to taking issue with the paying public’s taste, and that’s clearly not on.

Thus, the collaboration I mentioned earlier is replaced by a collusion of cynical organisers, playing nonentities, various commercial interests and uneducated audiences. They all gain whatever it is they are after. It’s the defaced music that loses.