A few years ago I was waiting to hear back from a PR touting a tempting junket to check out Iceland's apparently burgeoning classical music scene. I'd got to the stage of wondering what shameless freeloaders should pack for May in Reykjavik - and then the call came: "I'm afraid we've cancelled the trip because it clashes with the Classical Brits, and all you journalists will be busy." Now, every time I read something about Reykjavik, which I've still never visited, I wish that I'd had the gumption to tell him that on the contrary, it was the perfect time to catch classical critics. It was virtually the one night of the year when you could guarantee they would be twiddling their thumbs.
It's tempting to dismiss the Classical Brits outright. This, after all, is the event that has, with a straight face, pitted Bryn Terfel against Russell Watson and Cecilia Bartoli against the mighty vocal cords of Hayley Westenra; and which, in 2002, gave an award for "Outstanding Contribution" (to what? to his recording exec's pension fund?) to Andrea Bocelli. There is a Critics' Award, but I've never met a critic who'll admit to having voted for it. Inside the industry, the run-up to the awards features a down-and-dirty scramble as record companies wrestle to get platform time for whichever crossover act they happen to be pushing. Actually winning an award boosts record sales, but not as much as you might think. And what's presented to the outside world, on our televisions, is a tacky record-industry love-in that seems to pretend that all of those it showcases have equal artistic merit.
But isn't it all just a bit of fun? Maybe - and maybe not. Perhaps the very fact that it presents itself to the outside world means that all of us should take it a bit more seriously. Since an uncomfortable attempt a few years ago at broadcasting the Gramophone Awards (still highbrow, though their new association with Classic FM hints that a gradual descent into middle-of-the-road is on the cards), the Brits are the only nominally classical awards that get televised. OK, an 11pm slot on ITV1 on Sunday May 13 is unlikely to get them record viewing figures, but some viewers are going to see the ceremony and think this is the gamut of what classical music's about.
Perhaps what's needed is some kind of acknowledgement that, whoever wins the actual awards (and if you overlook the Album of the Year prize - result of a public vote - going to Paul McCartney instead of Terfel's Tutto Mozart, there are some worthy winners this year), the ceremony is always going to celebrate crossover more wholeheartedly than classical - whatever THAT overused term denotes. For example, EMI's Amazonian darling Natasha Marsh, who was onstage in the Albert Hall on Thursday night, has an impeccable classical background - but if you put her fluffy album Amour into your computer, the track listing brings it up as "Easy Listening". (Yes, I have.)
Maybe the Classical Brits should be similarly honest and change its name. But what to? And would anyone outside the record industry really care?
