This DVD contains six visits to the BBC Proms in successive 
                  years, some visits of shorter duration than others, to catch 
                  performances of Viennese classics given a local English accent. 
                  Most performances are in the hands of James Loughran and the 
                  Hallé, but there’s a bonus of a single performance by János 
                  Fürst with the old BBC Northern, and the considerable pleasure 
                  of seeing Walter Süsskind in six outings with both the BBC Symphony 
                  and the Royal Philharmonic. 
                  
                  Loughran back in this period looked like a youngish Carlo Maria 
                  Giulini. Behind his back serried ranks of youthful Prommers 
                  sway merrily, knotted handkerchiefs on their long-haired heads. 
                  Mr Gumby clearly ruled the roost. They grin, gurn, guffaw, sing 
                  along, pass along cans and take dirty great swigs, and even, 
                  at one point, dance in the arena. The Pythonesque rollicking 
                  of the student audience perhaps allows one to forget that the 
                  orchestra’s visits to the Proms had been a regular occurrence 
                  under John Barbirolli, then only a few years dead. 
                  
                  One feature of the DVD is that since it’s been programmed composer 
                  by composer — pieces by Johann Strauss II followed by Lehár 
                  and then back to Strauss II, before Strauss I and finally von 
                  Suppé — we move from one performance back to another, thence 
                  to another. It is, I think, disconcerting to start with Loughran 
                  in 1974, roll onto Süsskind in 1978, scoot back to Loughran 
                  in 1975 and so on. I appreciate it’s not Mahler’s Ninth, but 
                  the lack of continuity and programmatic integrity within performances 
                  is most odd. 
                  
                  The BBC Symphony are decked out with umbrellas in their outing 
                  in 1978 in Unter Donner und Blitz — along with very white 
                  shirts under which British men then still wore string vests, 
                  many plainly visible. The only thing stranger than all this 
                  malarkey is Süsskind’s wig. In fact it was a leitmotif of watching 
                  him that one minute I swore I could see the join, and the next 
                  I swore I couldn’t. Then I came to the conclusion it wasn’t 
                  a wig at all. Such are the perils for a critic of watching sweaty 
                  Waltz nights on DVD. The Czech-born conductor is first rate 
                  - he was a marvellous accompanist too - and it was a special 
                  pleasure to me to see him, my first such opportunity. He was 
                  very popular in Britain, and never gave up his British citizenship. 
                  Unlike Loughran he doesn’t camp things up. 
                  
                  Sheila Armstrong appears in two songs from Fledermaus and 
                  she sings with coloratura brilliance. Tellingly the orchestra 
                  clearly enjoyed her singing, as did I. 
                  
                  Other things that I noticed; there’s a fiddle dude in the RPO 
                  with dark shades and a rather Mafioso look about him. Others 
                  look like the late Screaming Lord Sutch. The beards and Zapata 
                  moustaches in the 1979 BBC Northern are straight out of The 
                  History Man. Those were the days. 
                  
                  The only demerit of the footage is a slight bit of distortion 
                  in the last track, in which János Fürst extracts a full complement 
                  of Brucknerian heft from Suppé. Also, some of the camera shots 
                  linger on the wrong things. There are too many shots of Loughran 
                  and too few of his band, whereas there are too many shots of 
                  his bands and too few of Süsskind. 
                  
                  All right; who is this for? Nostalgics? Lovers of Prom history? 
                  Loughran family members? Waltz addicts who don’t mind the British 
                  bulldog biting the balls of Viennese elegance? It’s unruly, 
                  it’s uncouth, and it’s decidedly de trop. I quite liked 
                  it. 
                  
                  Jonathan Woolf