There were a couple of interesting concerts last week.  The SCO featured Macmillan's percussion concerto Veni, Veni Emmanuel.  This is a fascinating piece to watch.  There are drums, bongos, tam-tams, xylophones, vibraphones, cowbells, wood blocks and sundry other instruments spread across the stage in front of the orchestra and although the soloist doesn't have to run he certainly has to walk briskly from one side to the other past the conductor every so often to get to the appropriate instrument.

You can find various performances on Youtube but this BBC Proms one of the premiere in 1992 gives lovely shots from various points within the orchestra and a little bit of introductory information.

In the final moments of the piece every player becomes a percussionist.  Each has a little steel bar either attached to their music stand or in their hand and they play on these with I suppose another little steel bar to make a light, tinkling, shimmering field of sound.  The soloist then joins in on a set of tubular bells.  When all dies away to nothing you are left with only the reverberations of the bells in the air.  It's a spellbinding moment that fortunately was not spoilt by premature clapping.

The clapping came in one movement too soon at the RSNO performance of Ravi Shankar's Raga Mala (Sitar Concerto No2).  It did sound awfully like it might be the end and I don't suppose anyone in the hall had heard the piece before so forgiveable.

Shankar's daughter Anoushka was the sitar soloist sitting cross-legged on a little platform beside the conductor.  It was full of interesting sounds and I enjoyed it but the best bit of the evening for me was when the concerto was over.  Anoushka came on again and played an encore.  Those few minutes of unaccompanied sitar were delicious.

I'd never heard of Casablanca: The Gin Joint Cut but it sounded fun from the Evening News puff and so it proved last night.  Three very able actors take on all the main roles in a distilled version of the movie Casablanca.  They play it with tongues firmly in cheeks and milk the melodramatic possibilities.  The production whizzes along with loads of clever business and lots of gags.

It was here for one night only but you can catch it by treating yourself to April in Paris.