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Prom 44, Daniel Barenboim and the joy of being in a live audience

Jon Jacob

Editor, About the BBC Blog

I was going to write about the Radio 4 Extra documentary on Saturday - the one about Hugh Paddick and Kenneth Williams (a.k.a Julian and Sandy) - and explain how I delight at making discoveries about low-profile re-runs from the BBC archive. It's what the BBC is all about for me: giving me something I never realised I wanted to hear. A very BBC thing.

Violinist Guy Braunstein, Daniel Barenboim at the piano, and cellist Kian Soltani perform Beethoven’s Triple Concerto at the BBC Proms 2015 (credit BBC/Chris Christodoulou)

But after attending Prom 44 the other night, I realise there's another BBC experience which deserves the remaining word count. Daniel Barenboim's concert with the West Eastern Divan Orchestra in a rich programme of Schoenberg, Beethoven and Tchaikovsky was played to a packed audience. Suddenly there was a different aspect of the BBC life which excites in a similar way - a uniquely BBC experience - not so much about the performers, but the audience.

First though, a primer for non-BBC staff.

Those of us with a love of advocacy experience conflicting emotions when we we're a part of a BBC event. For me, it's usually live broadcasts which catch me unawares. Such moments make me bristle with excitement and, occasionally, remind me of falling in love for the first time. I recognise it, remember loving the experience, and recall beaming proudly consumed by a need to make a public declaration about the development. And I did. Frequently.

But when these BBC moments are experienced, doubts creep in soon after. Staffers begin to question whether we're 'allowed' to say it out loud. What will the retort be if we profess our love and pride for the organisation? What's the worst thing someone could say in response to our proclamation of love? "You're bound to say that. You're biased. You work for the BBC."

In that respect, I am biased. But, in my defence, a Proms experience is difficult to shake. I feel at ease at the Royal Albert Hall. I do have a weakness for live broadcast. And in addition, I adore being amongst a crowd during a live broadcast too: there is an infectious kind of energy. The audience wraps around the Royal Albert Hall, encompassing the orchestra like a soft fluffy towel on a chilly day after a dip in the North Sea. We can all see each other (I discovered that if I leaned forward and adopted the brace position I could just see the tip of Stephen Fry's nose).

There is a thrill to be experienced when one sees a mass of people all sitting in attendance for the same reason you are. It is a collective experience. Regardless of the actual performance, just being in the presence of 6,000 people is an incredibly moving experience.

Daniel Barenboim conducts the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra at the BBC Proms 2015 (credit: BBC/Chris Christodoulou)

It is during these moments that staffers see an actual real-life audience. Proof of some kind of audience appreciation. We see delight and anticipation. Coming to the Royal Albert Hall is a big deal, a treat or an indulgence. It always feels like that for me. It's an addictive and gratifying atmosphere to feel a part of.

If classical music hasn't historically been your first choice, here's a simple way of immersing in the experience. Deploy this method at the end of a concert. The easiest way of determining how a UK audience's appreciation for a performance is to resist the temptation to applaud immediately. Let everyone else around you applaud. Savour this special moment.

As the music approaches its natural end, close your eyes and hold your breath. Wait for the applause and the roar. And when it comes, build a picture in your mind of the expressions on the faces of those who are making the noise. You'll know just what sort of performance it has been (assuming you didn't know already) based on that initial reaction. Not only that, you'll be a part of a very special experience.

They're not applauding the BBC, they're applauding the orchestra. But still, there's a moment of direct audience feedback any BBC staffer would be forgiven for revelling in just for a moment.

A magical experience. A moment to experience feeling alive.

Jon Jacob is Editor, About the BBC website and blog.