Part 2 @bbcproms. The madness begins. Ms Derham has not switched gowns in the interval. No sign of Titchmarsh, for which we must give thanks.
The "traditional" necklace of laurels for Sir Henry Wood's bust. Wonder if he'd welcome his head being polished by a pink rag.
How do they pick these pieces? Apols but the Marche joyeuse did not fill this tweeter with joy. On the other hand, here's Renée plus a mike.
Not many sopranos can address an audience like Renée F. America's sweetheart sings Czech stuff now: back to her roots
While Renée continues blowing a hole in the Albert Hall ceiling, how's about looking at our splendid conductor gallery.
Dvořák: Rusalka – Song to the Moon. La Netrebko does it wearing basically not much. Preferring Renée in purple...
A gift from the Prommers for Renée F. They do provoke a very mixed bunch of emotions. Here comes Maxim Rysanov with a viola.
Of whom I have not heard. Am reminded of the observation re violinists/violists and how you tell the difference.
Arriving at orchestra rehearsal, violinists fight to sit at the front, while violists scrap to claim a seat at the back. Not Mr Rysanov tho.
This suite is by Vaughan Williams btw. Rysanov also in purple. He and Renée pre-coordinated, clearly.
The BBC Chorus sings Lohengrin. Hands up if you didn't know this playground ditty was by Wagner.
Slow work typing with one hand.
Mass singalong alert. Clue: you'll never sing alone. Or not tonight. They didn't sing it here btw.
Well it makes a change from Anfield. Are they going to bring on Renée? She does it quite well.
To quote Barry Davies, who used the phrase on another occasion, you have to say that's magnificent.
And now for something from Pirates du Caribbean. Too much to hope for some swashbuckling from Keira K or J Depp, I guess.
Or failing that, Mackenzie Crook?
No but let's play it again. Splendid shot of the horns. Not biased or anything.
This is to give Renée valuable extra time to cantilever herself into whatever the hell she's wearing for Land of Hope and Glory.
By which I mean Rule Britannia. And she is still in purple. Off the shoulder, some sort of crown effect up top.
There is no getting away from the fact that this is an ejaculation of national something or other. Renée looks like a purple peeled banana.
Don't suppose there's many Sinn Feiners singing along in that shot from Co Down. Encore. Note stars and stripes in soloist's fist.
Late update: dress by V Westwood. Headgear by Her Majesty's constabulary. And did those feet get totally misunderstood once more.
NB the Welsh flags are biggest. (For further enlightenment see my biog).
Glorious camera work, think it should be said. On which subject check out this.
Jiri B speaks. "You have the nice voices." Bet he says that to all the audiences.
Never been a fan of the conductor's address.
Elgar. Anyone know how that bobbing thing started? Find it genuinely mystifying.
Land of Hope and Glory just doesn't do it for me like You'll Never Walk Alone. Help, think I'm turning into a fashionable liberal.
And there blows the encore. I guess you had to be there.
Curmudgeonly thoughts aside, the Proms are one of the things that make this a land of hope and glory.
Wondering if it's unpatriotic to tweet during the National Anthem. Which is being sung pianissimo by the BBC Chorus. Classy touch.
Perfectly kosher to tweet during the second verse which no one knows, I think we can all agree. Even the Brits have lyric sheets.
Go on, play some J Strauss to end on a genuine musical high. No?
No?
No.
Oh yes, Auld Lang Syne. I goldfished.
Marvellous. One is ablaze with sentimental fervour. Final thought: where do all those Prommers go till next July?
