Who has the power, the authority to fix the moment when a major public event can start? In broadcast events, such as the Proms, where all of the concerts are broadcast on Radio 3 and many are televised, the bigger, virtual audience puts the media in the driving seat. The radio or TV producer holds sway - up to the moment when the conductor steps out into the hall.
It's more extreme than that in sport, of course. For many years, it's been obvious: the media, and Sky TV in particular rule down to the finest detail. The referee and the players in a soccer match are obliged to wait in place on the pitch for the nod from the TV producer. The ad break has to be over before the starting whistle can be blown. Perhaps, after the momentous events of this week, even that balance of power may start to change....
At least in music, once the conductor is onstage, the autonomy to set things in motion and to run the show should reside with him or her. That's the theory. But Myung Whun Chung appears to be different. He is just as happy to give that prerogative away. In two of the three works of Prom 6 last night, Chung just stood back for the openings, and allowed his fine wind soloists to pick their moments for themselves.
The principal french horn in Weber's Oberon overture played his pianissimo opening sweetly enough. But a near-capacity Proms audience, still frantically busy getting itself comfortable and its impedimenta in place, was not the context for Weber's diaphanous orchestral textures from the land of the fairies to be heard, let alone savoured.
By contrast, Chung's - and our - wait for the bassoonist to pick his moment to start Stravinsky's Rite of Spring was well worth it. The unique and ghostly sound of a French “basson” made that moment stand out, and ushered in a performance of the work which had both bite and character.
Chung's tendency to just let things happen did not just affect the beginnings of works. In the main piece of the first half, the Brahms Double concerto, with a cautious beat, his stick often pointing to the floor, Chung appeared content to allow his soloists, Renaud Capucon on violin and Gautier Capucon on cello, to linger, to rubato their own sweet way through the work.