The arrival of a pandemic-hit Proms season took me back to my frequent visits to the Albert Hall, queuing on the steps for standing places (not much promenading took place when we were all crammed in, and I have wonderful memories of Malcolm Sargent, Adrian Boult, Colin Davis and many other BBC stalwarts seen from below the podium. Much of the large-scale orchestral music in those programmes did not and still doesn't appeal to me, But I have indelible memories of Berlioz' Harold in Italy for example among many other pieces.
Now the music has been caught up in the prevailing wish to purge imperial symbolism and oppressive icons from everything, a task that seems likely to be beyond anyone. I'm not sure why the comparatively innocuous words of Land of Hope and Glory and Rule Britannia should have caused such a furore (Boris Johnson said he can't believe the decision to play instrumental versions of the music of Arne and Elgar, both good tunes in any case, and in the end the words were included) but the last night was said to be moving in an almost empty Albert Hall - Golda Schultz laid the ghost of Constance Shacklock with a version of Jerusalem I see was not to everyone's taste! But the ire directed at Dalia Stasevska who conducted was quite unjustified, and in any case she did not make the decision! Social media have a lot to answer for, but prejudice has long co-opted good music in its cause, sometimes in two directions at once!
My favourite hymn at school was no.500 in Songs of Praise, Glorious things of thee are spoken to music by Haydn, a hymn tune originally written by Haydn, which continued as a well-known hymn tune but was also, from 1922, the German national anthem. Obviously its association with the Nazis over the war period gave rise to polarised views among its listeners. Over time my own appreciation of the music has been linked mainly to the Haydn C major string quartet op 76 no 3 (nicknamed 'the Emperor') whose slow movement is a set of variations on "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser" ("God Save Emperor Francis"), an anthem - that hymn - he wrote for Emperor Francis II. A beautiful movement.
It may be a bit glib to say that most of our (British, French and much other) history is entangled with the prevailing themes of the times - imperialism, slavery and general inhumane nastiness we find it less easy to stomach today. Composers like Elgar, Beethoven and others were of their time, and wrote for predominantly rich and autocratic paymasters. There are other role models - Britten for example - who can stand as examples of humanity and enlightenment, but most people don't stop to weigh the background of the things they listen to. If they do, they may not know the whole story, or they may be swayed by the associations of things like the German national anthem, or the Ode to Joy from Beethoven's 9th symphony which itself passionately divides pro- and anti-European sentiments. Wagner was also co-opted by the Nazis, but equally championed in the mdern era by Daniel Barenboim. It's a hopeless case.
I have written elsewhere about my enjoyment of Monteverdi's Incoronazione di Poppea, about the passionate affair between two of the least pleasant people you can imagine, Nero and Poppea, and my favourite opera the Marriage of Figaro is riddled with classist and sexist imagery. Most Old Testament stories are equally built on violent themes, like the battle-ridden oratorio Saul by Handel whose music we have so much enjoyed in the past months - after attending a wonderful performance at Glyndebourne last year we have enjoyed that same production on DVD with Iestyn Davies and the wonderful Lucy Crowe among others. I read that the original audiences hearing this music and the story it tells would probably have interpreted it as about the fall of the house of Stuart - all music can be reinterpreted, perhaps was composed, in the political and social climate of the times.
So I have no brief for tub-thumping renditions of Land of Hope & Glory, nor am I sure we'll ever get back to feeling safe about lusty mass singing in concert halls if it risks spreading infections, but I guess we need to keep things in perspective. Mary and I are hesitating to get back into group music when choirs and orchestras are almost bound to be in rooms with too little distance and too much moving air. And audiences can be stupid en masse, abandoning masks (which don't stop you listening however uncomfortable) and allowing enthusiasm to overcome the right amount of separation from neighbours in the audience. At the same time I am glad there are small-scale events - my friend and singing teacher Kamala is putting on a recital in Sète soon, and there will be a nice string quartet concert at a vigneron's the other side fo Montpellier, so we can combine two pleasures on one evening!
