Radio 3's American Roadtrip: Philadelphia
It's Day Two of BBC Radio 3's American Roadtrip, and it comes from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: The City of Brotherly Love. The very place where the United States of America gained its independence from the British Empire, and where Rocky Balboa ran up the steps to the '118-118' theme tune. [Remember the 118 craze?!]
While I have never ventured into Philadelphia proper, I do recall stopping by the Pocono Premium Outlets (think Cheshire Oaks), in Tannersville PA, back in 2013; en route from Manhattan to Niagara Falls [Or was it on the way back? Think it was.] I still have a couple of Fossil-branded watches that I bought from there - I think it was a BOGOF offer- and I am glad to report that both timepieces are still in fine fettle and offering me sartorial dominance to this day, some thirteen years later.
And it is interesting that we should be speaking of the declaration of American independence, because that document contains a signature of one Francis Lewis, whom I may be related to. Yes, you heard that right! A couple of years ago, a chap from the USA contacted me via Ancestry, the genealogy giant, for he had a DNA connection to me, and there has been intimation that 'Franny Lew' was one of my very distant forefathers... how about that?! [I'm not boasting here, mind - I am aware that a professional genealogist would pour contraband liquour on my bonfire as, technically, I am probably no closer related to Francis Lewis than old Maud at the bus stop down the road.]
The programme kicks off with a piece that featured on the 1940 film, A Philadelphia Story, and it's typical 1940's film music - ostentatious strings, accompanied by dainty piano frills. Have I got this on DVD, I wonder? I look at my Audrey Hepburn boxset with no luck. Further research reveals that it was infact a starring role Katharine Hepburn. Just goes to show that even a broadcasting stalwart like our Petroc can err once in a while.
Now, Philly has the Curtis Institute, which is a prestigious music school. The Johns Hopkins of music, if you will. And there is the Philadelphia Orchestra, of which - and I understate this - Rachmaninov was known to speak highly of.
There is a plaque to Billie Holliday, who was born in Phil, and the plaque says that she was 'the greatest jazz vocalist of her time' - a fair proclamation, in my view. Radio 3 kindly play us her original recording of Sunny Side of the Street, and it is a joy as ever to hear the dulcet tones of BH.
We are then taken to the Marian Anderson museum. Not being familiar with this contralto and celebrated civil rights activist, I hear the name as 'Marianne' at first - and this is a sore point, for it was a Marianne who once wronged me: cancelled our second date (the first had been really sweet) just as I was on the motorway to get there. To cut a long story short, I suspect she had another geezer on the go. Her loss, but it is very much my gain to learn about Marian Anderson, and Radio 3 plays us her divine performance of 'Deep River'.
We hear from a Philadelphia Bass Baroque orchestra, and later a short interview with Nancy Shear, who talks about her fascinating experiences with Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra. I note that she has a book out called I Knew A Man Who Knew Brahms, and I recognise that emotion within myself: I have personally met a man who has met Barack Obama, and another friend (I've boasted about this in the past) of mine met Bette Davis in Southport. Ain't that something! [There are several impressive Beatles connections too, being a Merseyside boy. But I think I've made my point.]
A bit later on we get played Concerto 4-3 by Jennifer Higdon. Interestingly, this piece has bluegrass elements and techniques blended within it... right up my alley, anything like this. Not before have I listened to classical playing with subtle 'hoe down' vibes, but I do think I like it.
Better known to you and me as the Monty Python theme tune, we have, as a natural centerpiece of the programme, Sousa’s Liberty Bell. A giant foot squelches down in my imagination as I listen. And as I listen, I start to wonder if I share with British listeners a quiet but guilty snobbery; in thinking that the North American model of classical music is somehow lesser, and could never quite compare to the longer-running European outfits?
I had better leave it there.
