Oh, those Russians

I’ve only seen the BBC SSO twice this season. Both concerts have featured Prokofiev piano concertos played by Denis Kozhukhin, and were conducted by tiny Chinese people. I’m going again next week, even though the soloist plays the cello and Andrew Manze is neither tiny nor Chinese. I embrace diversity.

The first half of last Thursday’s concert was enjoyable and intriguing in equal measure. Prokofiev’s Symphony No. 1 (the ‘Classical’) started the ball rolling. It has been a favourite of mine for many years, even before I knew what it was. As I child, I watched a short-lived children’s drama serial called ‘The Flaxton Boys’. I couldn’t tell you anything about it other than that part of the Classical Symphony was used as the theme music. Stravinsky’s ‘Petrushka’ concluded the first half, but the rarely played 1911 version was aired this time to tie in with one of the orchestra’s themes for this season; erm, 1911. Lots of brass, and very loud. Just how I like it. What, though, did Stravinsky think was wrong with it?

It was Prokofiev’s turn again at the start of the second half, his Piano Concerto No. 1, and the concert was wrapped up by another excuse for the orchestra to pump up the volume, Tchaikovsky’s ‘Francesca da Rimini’. Denis Kozhukhin returned afterwards for the Coda: Schoenberg’s ‘Sechs Kleine Klavierstücke’ and György Ligeti’s ‘L’escalier du diable’ from ‘Études pour piano’ (finding all these funny letters is giving me eye strain). OK, one’s an Austrian and one’s Hungarian, but it’s not every day I get to quote Boney M.

The concert was marred by my sitting adjacent to (but over the terrace fence from) an ugly, fat, smelly, bearded bloke who insisted on trying to strike up a conversation with me about the orchestra, other orchestras, various concerts and a nearby guide dog. He also had the irritating habit of breathing in and out through his nose. It took him until the second half to get the hint, following which he proceeded to bore the poor, unsuspecting individual to his left.

As for the other, less illustrious orchestra, the Christmas concert is fast approaching, and practice has ground to a halt. Rehearsals have been, for me, uninspiring, as I have too much other work to do to stop and try to figure out how much of the Tchaikovsky I can attempt, and although Schubert has been unceremoniously given his marching orders, we have two new, allegedly easy pieces to contend with; ‘In The Bleak Midwinter’ by Ralph Vaughan Williams, and ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’. Well, someone does. I can’t stand it.

As I type, Celtic are at home to St. Mirren. This is the second successive home game I have missed due to the inclement weather. It is also the second successive home game in which they have scored two goals early on in the blink of an eye. They nearly made a pig’s ear of it on Wednesday. Who knows what will happen today? After the soaking at the Hibs game a few weeks back, and lacking in any suitable protective clothing, I have had to boycott the fitba’ for the good of my health, physical as well as mental. Normal service will probably be resumed in two weeks time for the visit of Heart of Midlothian (weather permitting), and I’d love to meet whoever it was who had the bright idea to schedule the game with St. Johnstone for Christmas Eve. It was originally meant to kick off at 3pm, but someone must have alerted the authorities to the complete lack of public transport after 4pm that day. It will now (weather permitting) start at 1pm, which is bad enough. Of course, the late December Saturday home game has not featured in my plans in recent years due to illness and poor weather. I may yet find myself indoors again enjoying ‘Nine Lessons and Carols’.

In just over an hour, I have to get ready to brave the elements and drive to Paisley Town Hall again for another concert. It had better be good.