Familiar music changing a familiar public space
Arriving an hour or so before the baton came down, Trafalgar Square seemed the usual space it always had . The National Portrait Gallery and Nelson's Column framed a hustle and bustle of a typical Saturday afternoon in central London with tourists, families and wanderers. As I sat, I watched the square fill with people. Some were obviously regular outdoor concert go-ers, with cushions, plastic cups and picnic blankets; others seem to haphazardly stumble on the event and decided to stay.
When I listen to a piece of music I know well, it often evokes different emotions depending on the time, place and sense of affectiveness brought about by other people and sounds. Last night, I was unaware of the emotion I would get from the music and setting, and a clear hope and excitement brewed. As Stravinsky's Firebird began, my listening wandered. The very public space made the music feel different. In between private conversations, ambulances with blue sirens passed, car horns erupted and the church bells of St Martins-in-the-fields cut across the orchestral sounds. However, the piece did not become dwarfed, but intensified. As the music progressed to the finale and the sun started to sink behind Canada House, the Square become more comfortable than ever, the music engulfed my sense of place so it was no longer a transitional setting of tourists and cut-throughs, but space transformed to place though the meaning of music.
The rawness of the LSO's mission of bringing classic music free to the people of London, was for me, heightened. The public space and sounds made for a welcoming listening experience. There was no etiquette of the Barbican Hall to be felt, with the backdrop of red London buses providing a sense constant and changing sense of reality to many people for whom Stravinsky on a Saturday night would not be a part. Just simple music for a vox pop in a place for the people. Outstanding. By 10pm, the square would be back to a space.
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