Authors: James Rhodes
The impotent bleating about reaching younger audiences, the evident pride Classic FM takes in playing a twelve-minute-long piece of music (âour big piece after 6 p.m.'), the endless movie-themed âclassical' shows on radio, the total and utter segregation of classical music on TV, radio and press, the inevitable Halls of Fame, compilation best of box-sets, Tchaikovsky 1812 overtures â with cannon and mortar effects (war veterans stay away) all chip away relentlessly at the underlying fabric of what makes classical music so infinite and great.
Last night, despite an irritatingly brilliant performance from Benjamin Grosvenor (he really is as good as they say) and a Lifetime Achievement acceptance speech that showed Julian Bream to be a total dude and refreshingly human in an otherwise stultifying vacuum, was just more pomp and pointlessness. Universally white (save for the waiting staff), nettle cordial and lamb on the tables for the smartphone-addicted guests, piped classical music (seriously â if the Gramophone Awards are happy to pump it out at barely audible levels then what hope is there?), and the air of ennui so thick you could choke on it.
If our politicians are going to continue to cut arts funding and appear answerable to no one, then surely it is up to the industry itself to stamp its feet and make some changes. Christ, Beethoven was so horrified at the treatment of classical musicians and composers he put an immediate stop to being treated like a servant â he kicked down the doors, planted bombs under his audience's seats and unapologetically claimed his place as the man who heralded in the Romantic age. Today, we spend a few quid getting industry insiders drunk on dodgy wine in a cold, dark room for four long hours.
No matter how much I worship Steven Osborne, Zoltán Kocsis and the other stellar Gramophone Award winners from 2013, nothing, absolutely nothing, has changed for the better in either the perception of classical music or the prognosis for it after last night's ceremony. I wish I'd stayed at home listening to Glenn Gould.