Some thoughts on the new wave of digital classical music concerts

Over the past few weeks I’ve enjoyed watching a host of new concert series online. I wanted to use this blog post to document what I’ve enjoyed, why I’ve enjoyed it, and share some thoughts on what could do with being improved a bit.

What follows isn’t exhaustive. There’s a problem when you start scribbling about what you think – it triggers further thoughts which need to be thought through and documented.

If you’re in a hurry, these are the main points I’m exploring in this post:

  • What’s been good in the digital realm over the past few weeks?
  • Why has it appealed to me?
  • What needs to change?

What’s been good recently?

Be sure to watch the London Mozart Players from Fairfield Halls playing Mendelssohn’s Italian. The London Philharmonic Orchestra’s Marquee TV series has packed a visual punch – the Messiaen (Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum) from last week was stunning. Music at Malling‘s excellent Classical Kicks pre-record fronted by the brilliant Lizzie Ball is compelling. And without doubt, City of London Sinfonia’s utterly charming Goldberg Variations from Southwark Cathedral is definitely worth a look. Also take time to experience Opera Holland Park’s video on demand option – the distribution method makes for a seamless user experience. More detail on the Thoroughly Good Digital Concerts page this week.

These aren’t billed as critically acclaimed performances necessarily – more examples of the kind of content I’ve appreciated over the past few weeks.

Why has it been good?

These experiences have been satisfying because they’ve appeared authentic and sincere. They’ve not tried to substitute live performance, but instead striven to create a digital experience.

A lot of this is down to polished videography (angles, lighting, editing techniques, and sound mix), but its also down to the presence and plausibility of those people that appear in it.

Put very simply, everyone is in the business of making TV now. Those who actively choose simplicity (not in itself an easy thing to design) are delivering a quality experience that creates value for money.

What needs to change?

Again, for busy people, here’s a summary of thoughts:

  • Build the digital experience from the idea of it being something translated, rather than pretending it’s a direct equivalent of the live experience.
  • Visuals and storytelling are central to maintaining attention digital concerts throughout
  • Reflect the small details of the live experience in vision – these will trigger memories of live in the audience (the video equivalent of short story writing)
  • Administrators need to shift their thinking and overcome resistance – digital concerts are opportunities to experiment with storytelling
  • Audiences need to adjust their expectations: compelling digital concerts aren’t intended to be substitutes for live, they’re a different offering
  • Marketing and communications need to create stories around the release of these recordings that create a sense of occasion around virtual
  • Pay close attention to the user experience and user journey
  • Confusing labelling creates barriers
  • Strive for the seamless, simplest, and quickest user journey
  • Sector-wide collaboration on a uniform experience

Think of it a translation not an equivalent

Part of the resistance to digital streams both from a production and consumer perspective is down to an assumption that digital is a trying to be an acceptable like-for-like equivalent to the live classical music experience. This sets up an expectation that will never be met. Digital concerts (like TV) aren’t the same as live. Why are we trying to make out that they are? Why does anyone think they are? The two are different containers for the same music. What is delivered via a digital concert is different from what is experienced in the concert hall, just as radio is different to TV. Because that expectation is there, disappointment will always follow. Resistance sets in. On the production side that results in people either not embracing the storytelling opportunities; on the audience side that results in people experiencing disappointment when they do sign up and watch a digital concert, assuming they sign up at all.

Visuals and storytelling are doing the heavy-lifting

As an audience member who longs for the live experience to return, I figured I would end up in that resistance camp. However, I’ve been surprised about how quickly I’ve adjusted to looking out for different details in pre-recorded digital content. This means that the visual element needs to delight the eyes both in terms of visual design, direction and storytelling.

The LPO does this well capitalising on the interior front of house shots to set the scene, bathing the interior of the Royal Festival Hall with light to create a cinematic feel to the finished product. Slow-motion introductions of conductors walking to the stage set the tone, reduce the heart rate, creating a sense of anticipation in the viewer. This, for me, is the digital equivalent of walking in through the venue doors, up the stairs, handing my ticket to the usher and heading to my seat. The language necessary to convey a sense of occasion has adapted to fit the size of the aperture we look at the content through.

Look for the detail on stage

A wide side shot of an orchestra isn’t the primary shot anymore, the cutaway is. I found myself looking out for detail that elevates my perception I’m present in the space – small detail in shots which give a human quality to the experience. Over-the-shoulder effortlessly achieves this, so too capturing those moments when players exchange glances with one another. More demonstrative players (so long as they’re authentic and sincere in their movements) help drive energy too and hint to me that even though all of this is a bit weird for everyone at the moment, the performers I’m watching are in the moment, are doing the thing we’d expect of them. The London Mozart Players have achieved this well working with Apple and Biscuit on their video production. Similarly, the Philharmonia’s Benedetti/Classic FM production from Battersea Arts Centre. Authentic expression translates well on camera.

What digital has to do is look for those elements in the live performance which can be translated into a digital experience. We’re not pointing the camera at the stage in order that a wide angle shot will capture the experience, but instead creating a version of that ‘as live’ experience for consumption within the context of the digital world. Digital video is graduating: everybody is expected to make TV now.

Audiences need to look for a (digital) sense of occasion

What is clear to me is that audience expectations need to shift too.

The sense of occasion created by a visit to the bar, a meal or a chat with friends beforehand isn’t going to be easily translatable into the digital world. But I’ve been surprised by how quickly I’ve come to accept the idea of a concert’s premiere time as a kind of broadcast time. I know whose concert is available on what day and, although it might sound a bit quaint to admit it, I look forward to those moments. If I can’t watch then, I will and have ended up setting aside a block of time when I can watch it on the TV at the weekend, for example. And what’s interesting for me is that this is a deliberate choice – time I’ve actively blocked out for me. I don’t normally do that. It’s not a substitute for the joy of going to a concert hall – no one is suggesting otherwise – but for the time being its bringing me closer to a series of ensembles and their seasons. And in some cases I’m perhaps even more aware of what each orchestra has programmed because I have it at my fingertips.

This idea of ‘digital occasion‘ maybe a difficult concept to embrace, especially if an assumption is held that what’s being created is attempting to be an equivalent. As an audience member I recognise the experience isn’t comparable, but it is an alternative I’ve unexpectedly grown accustomed to.

Its Marcomms moment

Creating that sense of occasion is the work of marketing and communications. Now more than ever before comms professionals are playing a key role in creating a sense of anticipation around a virtual event. Announcements need to underpinned by a sense of self-belief and self-confidence. Language must have any hint of self-doubt edited out. A sense of continuity needs to be maintained – normal service has resumed, even if the delivery and product has adjusted somewhat. Some organisations and individuals are already doing this – the communications for Snape, LMP, LPO are good examples, though this list isn’t exhaustive. This isn’t in itself a massive shift in practise I don’t think – by and large marcomms professionals have been doing this for years with album releases and TV PR. The point is that for this present time more PRs are having to share announcements about audio/visual recordings. Finding the potential news line that command attention is the challenge. Marcomms have the biggest challenge right now.

Pay close attention to the user experience

The Marcomms challenge will be made easier when the end-user’s online experience is made more uniform, and aligned to other digital entertainment experiences. Failure to do so will mean the digital concert experience won’t be a viable option for classical music fans and UK orchestras will end up relying on conventional distribution methods.

I’ve experienced a range of user experiences over the past few weeks. Very few have been seamless.

Confusing labelling creates barriers

It’s seemingly small detail like button labelling, user journeys, page load times, website navigation bars, and search functions that create resistance. Same principal as website design. I’m also including hardware connectivity in this too, that is what device is the user watching this on and how easy is it to connect it to an external device like a TV?

Those who class themselves as early adopters will be the most at ease with purchase experiences on the internet. Those who followed will now be accustomed (without even realising it) or the steps one goes through to buy a book, or order online supermarket deliveries, or select something to watch from Netflix or iPlayer. These repeat experiences set up expectations in the mind of anyone who is using the internet, such that as users we look for recognisable signposts which not only signal what we need to do next to get the thing we want, but also to reassure us before we’ve even embarked on the purchase process that this is something we’re prepared to commit to in pursuit of the product we think we might want (in this case, a digital concert).

Strive for the simplest, quickest, and seamless user journey

A poor user experience creates barriers to the end goal – access to the concert. If there’s already a perceived resistance to engaging with the concert because we assume that it won’t be the same as being there in the concert hall, then those barriers appear even bigger in our perception.

If the user you’re targeting is in an older demographic and has little or no experience of using the internet let alone connecting their mobile device or laptop to a TV, then the barriers are going to present themselves as some kind of mountain range.

That means that purchase experiences for these digital experiences need to be uniform. Users need to have a rough idea of what they can expect before they embark on the process. The barriers need to be removed. Prior to COVID the classical music world was tying itself in knots trying to address the perceived barriers of access to and appeal of the physical space and content. Now some parts of the sector need to address the digital barriers which are stopping users from completing the user journeys which will deliver the revenue they’re looking for. This is before we get onto the subject of pricing.

Join forces to create a uniform user experience

I believe there’s a need for arts organisations to collaborate to create a uniform user experience, one that is aligned with that experienced on the likes of Netflix, Amazon or the BBC. There needs to be uniform archive strategy of content too which, combined with this improved seamless user experience will serve up assets to consumers and drive up revenues as a result. That doesn’t necessarily mean reinventing the wheel, but instead pooling resources, drawing on development already made in other parts of the entertainment industry, in order to create a uniform product.

When this is addressed, then adjusting to an additional ‘concert’ experience is something the user will do (even without even realising it). At that point it makes the work of marketing and communications not only easier but ever more important in drawing attention to new products.

It would be all too easy to dismiss digital streaming as a poor substitute (as I’ve seen a few other commentators do right now) for the live experience. I don’t think anyone should thinking of this process as trying to create a subsitute, but instead the beginning of a journey where an enhanced digital experience is the end goal. Orchestras, ensembles and other arts organisations are at the beginning of this journey, their hands forced by the impact COVID has had on the most obvious way they connect with audiences. That so many have readily and swiftly pivoted is a real testament to the kind of resolve creative individuals are renowned for. But the next stage in development is vital if digital audiences are going to join arts organisations on the journey.

Being in amongst the tribe

It has been quite a day. There was occasion (much-missed these past few months); an unexpected shared sense of purpose; a sense of personal responsibility; and possibly even a feeling of vindication too.

I suspect I’m a bit of a shit journalist. That’s what I thought when I headed back from the freelance musicians demonstration in Parliament Square at lunchtime. Reason: I hadn’t captured any opinions. I had no personal stories. I had little ‘evidence’. I’d only captured visuals.

What I also struggled to capture was the efficiency of the protest. That’s a very musician thing I think. Perhaps not especially surprising: people who have for their whole careers been called upon to do – to be at a certain place at a certain time to play a certain thing, do just that and then pack up and go home. That’s their thing. They did it reliably well.

For me, it was nice to be in amongst them.

Instinct kicked in as it often does in this situations. Just because the email comes in ‘late’ doesn’t mean it’s something that isn’t worth clearing the decks for and prioritising. Sometimes there’s a conversation one needs to be a part of. Sometimes the story presents itself as a story that must be told. And just because you only have a Canon EOS M50 doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to do what the people with the big cameras are doing. You’ve as much ‘right’ to be here as anyone else.

I was amazed that two people recognised me even though I had a mask on. One waved for the camera, the other took me surprise and complimented me on the podcast. Was there ever a moment when the value of what music can bring was illustrated so gently and so very urgently. Music had made one member of the audience feel part of the music community. What kind of Government wonk can’t see how music benefits society? A privileged one who hasn’t suffered depression and never thought to pick up a musical instrument probably. Why? Because money.

I went home. Looked at the footage. Listened to the audio. Spun it together and slapped on some graphics. “It’s making my skin go all goosebumpy,” said the OH, “Look!”

For me, I’m a bit amazed that it’s got the engagement it has (small in comparison to Benedetti). But, if you’ll forgive me for indulging in a spot of ‘naval gazing’, it also makes me rather proud. Because the work of these people and others like them is what regularly makes me feel alive and what has sustained a lifelong friendship with a musical genre that is generous, nurturing and constantly fascinating.

This is the very least I can do. And it does feel rather paltry in comparison to what they and rest of the sector needs right now. One orchestral administrator this week told me that the band he worked for probably had until Christmas until it folded. It employs many of the people I saw in Parliament Square. People who were playing to cling onto their livelihoods.

A message to them. To you. We’ve got your back. Promise.

Bell Music to close

News this week that Bell Percussion – suppliers of percussion equipment to the music world for thirty years are at the end of this year going to shut up shop has come as a bit of a shock and was met with the kind of “Oh, that’s rather sad,” that usually gets uttered in response to the news that a celebrity (I care about) has died.

Plans had already been put in place in July to start the winding down of business activities in July, according to MD Mike Bell on the Bell Percussion website. The business ceases trading at the end of 2021. Whilst its not entirely down to COVID, the pandemic hasn’t helped matters. With no orchestras playing, there’s no call for percussion instrument hires. And with no hires, there’s no revenue.

The sad bit about this is that everything Mike Bell says in his announcement on the Bell Percussion website tallies with my memory of calling on the services of the company. Affable, accommodating, and willing. Nothing was too much trouble. There was eagerness too, and a sincere kind of sales technique that made Bell Percussion the go-to place.

The highpoint in my orchestral management career (relatively shortlived as it was) was undoubtedly booking out their new newly ‘furbed’ rehearsal studios in Acton for a series of rehearsals led by Stefan Asbury, preparing the Britten-Pears Orchestra for the Aldeburgh Festival’s 50th anniversary concert with Kent Nagano. It was a big deal of a project. Bell Percussion were hugely accommodating. Learning that they’re closing down catapulted me back to that time, ringbinder in hand, checking names off a printed list.

That Bell Music has continued for so long is testament to their spirit. We will no doubt see Mike Bell pop up somewhere or other. Consider this an early warning for similarly saddening announcements to come.

Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra kicks off the digital season

2020/2021 is a digital season. Fact. An orchestral bigwig contact of mine said so today. There was a begrudging tone to the individual’s voice. Almost as though the penny had finally dropped: artistic planning for actual mass live audiences was now officially on-hold.

Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra”s first of 11 digital concerts this evening signals the first step in a new direction: orchestras stepping up to do one of only a handful of things they can practically do right now. The choice (as far as I can make out) is either closed rehearsals, concerts to a handful of real-life audience members, pre-recorded performances to reduce numbers of audience members or, as in the case of Bournemouth tonight, an actual live stream.

There was something of the pioneering days of TV (or at least how I perceive them reading histories of the early days of television) when I was setting up my laptop via HDMI to The Big TV in the Lounge. The management welcome from Dougie Scarfe was run as a visual test; the pre-concert talk was a much-needed 25-minute audio pre-concert-wrestle-with-the-sound-system. Come 7.25pm when I finally got things working, it was a pleasure to hear presenter Martin Handley converse with an orchestra-bod about the importance of this moment for the orchestra and the BSO audience.

That’s when the (relatively straightforward) opportunity orchestras now need to grasp really dawned on me. Orchestras dont’ need to recreate a concert experience;. The fact is that they really can’t. All they need to do is to create a sense of occasion. Appointment-to-view moments. That’s not about relaying live necessarily. It’s about amplifying those elements of the live concert experience that creates a sense of ‘liveness’.

Short heartfelt introductions from the management either pre-recorded or on stage go a long way to contributing to that sense of occasion. These vignettes create a sense of ‘special-ness’. They are the event-based equivalent of beautifully spoken broadcaster compensating for being unable to speak off the cuff or ask insightful questions of his or her interviewee. You orchestral administrators and artistic programmers are now, necessarily, in the business of creating occasion. You’re adept at that. Only now you’ve got to think beyond the actual music.

Bournemouth pulled it off OK. They have a cracking venue that looks good on camera. The direction could have made more use of sharp cuts (cross-fades should in my book be used only when the pace of the music permits). But once I got used to the shift in visual language, something unexpected happened: watch an orchestra play on their home turf miles away from where you’re sat watching them aad the experience will make you feel closer to them and to their brand. Boom.

This was self-determining content production. Content that reminded us of the impact state-funded arts activity has cultivated and served local communities.

Only now they’re reaching out further. Nearly 800 subscribers viewed the live feed this evening, Martin Handley told us in the post-concert sign-off. (I observed a total of 710. Either way, at £6 a ticket, that’s a pretty good return. I think.

The performance wasn’t perfect. Though really an truly, I’m not interested in perfection. I can find that (probably) on the likes of Spotify. What I want is what I imagine my sport-loving pals seek in a football match. We don’t want a win. We just want to see people doing live music-making. And maybe what us audiences need to do is adjust our expectations in the short-term. Live will return. Whilst we wait we need to look for the joy in live relay or deferred relay.

Manchester Collective’s ‘Recreation’

Released in August 2020 on the Bedroom Community label, Manchester Collective’s debut EP is a little piece of drama combining music written across multiple centuries from Bach, to Vivaldi, to Ligeti, to Paul Clark.

I’ve been meaning to write about it for a while now but have like a lot of other projects been dragging my feet somewhat. Returning to the playlist just last week and listening to it back a few times, a few thoughts came to mind.

First that this collection of tracks reignites memories of the listening experience had when purchasing an album on vinyl or CD. Here is a collection of tracks ordered with a narrative in mind. Story emerges in the transition from one vaguely familiar track and something new. Imagination is triggered by this style of curation. A personal narrative emerges.

That’s something I remember Andre de Ridder articulating when I spoke to him about the Spitalfields Festival a few years back. He talked about the idea of not just listening to the music itself, but connectiong to the mood or thoughts which emerge when two seemingly disparate musical ideas are juxtaposed. Something occurs in the gaps between music that is every bit as powerful as the music itself. Or it might even add to the music. Or even take it in an entirely different location.

As it happens, this is I think what Manchester Collective were aiming for I discover now I come to read the promotional blurb.

‘Recreation’ is a mixtape. It’s picking up something warm, soft and familiar, and pricking your finger. There is real jeopardy in the playing, which is perpetually close to the edge of what is possible in sound and in colour.

Manchester Collective

At seventeen minutes or so, it feels like a mini-concept album more than a playlist or a mixtape, indicative of the kind of real-life Manchester Collective experiences audiences who are in the know have and certainly reminscent of the one I had at Kings Place or at Peckham last year. Only this has been translated as an audio event, successful not only because of the invigorating musicianship evident in the mix, but also in the polished marketing to accompany the product. There is a sophisticated aspiration in the way ‘Recreation’ looks that is matched by what is heard.

And they achieve a rare thing. They’ve re-introduced me to the music of Ligeti in such a way that I’m hungry to hear more.

Classic Manchester Collective.

Buy ‘Recreation’ on Bandcamp for as little as 4 Euros. WAV, MP3 or FLAC downloads available.

Listen to Adam Szabo in conversation on the Thoroughly Good Classical Music Podcast.

Viability and Jess Gillam’s Decca Release

Talk of viable jobs in the mainstream media today triggered my inner lefty. Or was it my inner liberal? I’m still not clear whether advocating the arts makes me a lefty or a liberal. Either way, the word was a trigger word deliberately placed in press releases, speeches and ‘reports’ intended to enflame and enrage.

Job done. It does enrage. But if you’re a bigger person, you’ll find a way to overlook it. The next six months (which I’m absolutely convinced will be extended by another six months in March 2021) present themselves as a grind. Yet another cross country run we have to set out on. We know we’ll complete it but dear God it seems like a struggle to get motivated right now.

The question that looms large is what story to tell of this period? Do we celebrate those who defy expectation and mount the concerts they can given the mitigations? Do we spotlight those for whom live music-making isn’t just their bread and butter but their sense of being, using this as evidence of the arts unshakeable spirit to rise up like a Phoenix (in itself a reflection of the story I tell to myself about myself)? Or is it important to highlight how the state-funded arts activity is systematically being destroyed? If one does the former does one risk down-playing the latter?

I don’t know the answer, other than the questions themselves help shape some editorial goals in the coming months. And in a weird way, I’m oddly grateful that curious editorial can be dug our from this particular shitheap.

All this whilst listening to Jess Gillam’s much-anticipated (by which I mean much-hyped) new album on Decca. The build-up has been relentless perhaps even never-ending. It might even have risked damaging the end product.

As it happens, it didn’t. This is a carefully curated selection of tracks drawing a bounty of new (to a few) composing names. The overarching mood is contemplative, thoughtful, and thought-provoking whilst avoiding the usual preponderance naval-gazing bollocks. Anna Meredith’s track in particular is not only well-placed – a kind of symphony-esque pivot point – but also balm for the soul right now.

Listen out for the plucked bass in various tracks too. It’s tactile. Tidy. Pleasing.

If you’re in search of some montage music to manage you through this weird time, this is the place to start.

Levit, Malta, and the 6 month thing

I’ve been listening to Igor Levit’s Gramophone category winning album of Beethoven piano sonatas A LOT this week. Hitherto Beethoven’s creations for the keyboard have presented themselves as a marathon to get through. This week they’ve made sense of the world. They’ve also been things I’ve wanted to return to like a snack in the kitchen cupboard, or a stinky cheese in the fridge. They are, assuming you don’t know this already, works that must be listened to. Especially Levits release on Sony. (Biss on Orchard, I’ll get to you in due course.)

In other (startling) news given that we’ve all been briefed to style this COVID thing out for another six months yet, is that the Malta International Music Festival have announced a jaw-dropping line-up for their 2021 festival including Martha Argerich.

Others signed up include Rudolf Buchbinder, Gautier Capuçon, Danielle De Niese, Daniel Hope, Gidon Kremer, Denis Matsuev, Andreas Ottensammer, Grigory Sokolov and Maxim Vengerov. Lawks.

COVID hasn’t had a massive impact on Malta it seems, and if memory serves me correctly there’s a considerable Russian diaspora in Malta eager and able to facilitate live performance in April. It seems almost impossible to imagine that it could. I do hope it does.

In the meantime, the six month wait. I woke up this morning hearing rain through the curtains and bedroom window, finding it difficult to contemplate what next year might look like. I’m lucky, of course. I won’t starve. But l, the wait for socially distancing being a thing of the past seems like a long long way off.

Peckham. Handel. London Handel Festival.

News started dribbling in at first and it was tantalising. Then there was a steady flow of news about concerts and recordings, and then things started to feel like a bit more normal. Every press release after that the presented itself like a mini launch event for the BBC Proms.

Like this: DJ Nico Bentley joining forces with the London Handel Festivsl for an outdoor thing in nearby Peckham. Well, it’s near to me at least. A bike ride away. And I do need the exercise.

Festival Voices sing at Copeland Park, Peckham, showcasing a varied programme of well-known works by Handel, remixed live with electronic music by DJ and producer Nico Bentley on Saturday 3 October. It’ll be like going to an outdoor rave, only this will be legal. And you might need to bring a shawl.

Anticipated highlights included below.

  • Zadok the Priest (Coronation Anthems)
  • Eternal Source of Light Divine (Ode to Queen Anne)
  • Chorus of the Babylonians (Belshazzar)
  • Ombra mai fu (Serse)
  • How Dark, o Lord, are thy decrees (Jephtha)
  • Nel mondo e nell’abisso (Tamerlano)
  • A suoi piedi (Tamerlano)
  • The King Shall Rejoice (Coronation Anthems)

Tickets £20. More information here.

Nice work

The Philharnonia premiered a concert this evening via their YouTube and Facebook channels, with a simulstream via that other radio station dedicated to classical music, Classic FM.

Some thoughts bubbled up to the surface whilst I was chopping veg for the casserole tonight.

First, the slew of YouTube premieres from various bands are a lovely thing. But, tonight’s I find myself listening to the Philharmonia’s like it’s a radio broadcast. Then when there’s conversation in between performance, I focus in on what’s being said.

Second, the conversation challenges assumptions. Anne Marie Minhall is a brilliant broadcaster. Solid. Authentic. Trusted. The conversation she facilitates with Jaarvi and Benedetti is enlightening. Touching. Fitting perhaps. There is a sense of occasion about it even though I’m listening on my smart speaker not watching.

Third, I end up thinking that Classic are basically nipping at the heels of Radio 3. At least online they are. And that’s quite some achievement.

Lovely setting. Beautiful photography. And even though I’m getting a little sick of Lark Ascending there is a valid argument for the value of the work’s repetition right now.

Nice work everybody. You’re still my favourite band Philharmonia.

My local reopens

All at St John’s Smith Square will no doubt query my attendance record at the Westminster concert venue. And they would be right to do so. I have been a little flakey. But what this year has thrown into focus are the things, places and people that, which and who collectively keep the flame alive.

Whilst our idiotic government fiddles with legalities and consistently fails to deliver on their promises around COVID testing up the road (Matt Hancock, for crying out loud get on with it – if I do much as tweet something with a typo I get hauled over the coals, so why are you still in post exactly?), St John’s Smith Square are quietly and resolutely getting on with things and doing the best they can given the virus-infused circumstances.

Socially-distanced audiences have a month of concerts to look forward to in the glorious acoustic of St John’s Smith Square in October.

As I scroll through the list my eye is drawn to members of the RPO with Roderick Williams at 1pm on 2nd October, ‘Beethoven’s Late Quartets’ on Sat 3rd and Sunday 4th, Purcell on 6th, Gesualdo Six on Friday 9th, and Young Musicians Symphony Orchestra on Wednesday 14th. And to be able to hear something from my youth – Faure’s Messe Basse and Cantique de Jean Rancine, almost makes October both a joyous proposition and too much to contemplate all at the same time.

It’s a sign of the times. As events are staged, so we as audience members weigh up need, distance, against the pull of an acoustic. St John’s Smith Square wins right now. There’s no guarantee I can be there – tickets will go like hot cakes (rightly so) – so at least it will be online.

There will also be fifty events made available online at SJSS’ YouTube channel as part of the St John’s Digital Exchange programme, some hybrid versions of concerts featured in the live concerts, some created specifically for our digital audience. 

Bring your own wine (to consume outside) if you’re attending in person.

Buy tickets online (only) at St John’s Smith Square.