Departing BBC chief defends Proms call
The row over plans to perform traditional songs at the BBC Proms without lyrics shows “what the BBC does matters”, its outgoing director-general has said.
Lord Tony Hall said the move to play orchestral versions of Rule, Britannia! and Land Of Hope And Glory that do not feature singing was “the right creative decision”.
He added that “when you haven’t got an audience... it’s going to feel very, very flat”.
Traditional songs, which some find controversial because of their perceived ties to imperialism, will be played without lyrics at this year’s Last Night, although the BBC has confirmed they will be sung again in 2021.
Lord Hall’s comments come after composer Errollyn Wallen, who has written a new arrangement of Jerusalem which will be played during the Last Night performance, hit out at Prime Minister Boris Johnson for his intervention on the issue. She said that his comments were “irresponsible”.
Last week, Mr Johnson said he found the decision to remove the lyrics difficult to believe.
“It’s time we stopped our cringing embarrassment about our history, about our traditions, and about our culture, and we stopped this general bout of self-recrimination and wetness,” he added.
At the water’s edge a crowd jostles ro u n d one of the fishermen, keen to glimpse his latest catch.
The gasps of admiration aren’t because he’s hooked an unlucky tench or perch from the waters of the Applecross Basin at the Forth and Clyde Canal. Instead, the proud angler has landed a handgun. It may be caked in black mud but it is, unmistakably, a revolver.
“That’s the catch of the day,” says a fellow fisherman excitedly. “A potential murder weapon!”
Welcome to the world of magnet fishing. The pistol – later delivered to Police Scotland – is the latest catch by Glasgow Magnet Fishing, a group specialising in this unlikely but increasingly popular pursuit.
However, the surging interest has also got the attention of Scottish Canals. Yesterday, bosses there halted a planned meet while they arranged a working group to explore “what possibilities there are for safe and legal magnet fishing on Scotland’s canal network.”
The metal-detecting anglers must now try to negotiate a future for their fledgling but threatened sport with the group – and others like them up and down the country – using industrialstrength magnets on ropes to trawl waters around Scotland.
From coins to knives and safes, the group holds events where it dredges unlikely treasures discarded in the murky depths and, since
Joshua Booth, 19, from Falkirk, casting out in Glasgow
February, their numbers have grown exponentially.
L o c k d ow n saw the g r o u p’s Facebook page go from about 300 members to 2,000. Edinburgh has its own rapidly expanding group, and there are others throughout the UK. As a sport it is proving, well, magnetic. “Since lockdown began people’s mental health has been in the toilet,” said Davie Mcnair, one of the group’s founders.
“I was on the couch for three years before this after I developed a heart problem. I have a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopia, which means I have an enlarged heart. They fitted a pacemaker in my chest, but it meant I struggled to work. Magnet fishing got me up and got me out, I’m doing something.
“I need to be careful with the magnets near my pacemaker, though. I think if I keep it more than six inches away I should be alright.”
Davie warily eyes the weighty disc made by a company called Online Magnets. More expensive than a fish hook at £180, it is made from neodynium – a rare metal suited to magnetism – and have a 500kg pull which is, Davie says, a lot.
Later in the day, a magnet will clamp itself onto a Triumph motorcycle which found its way to the canal bed. With the aid of grappling hooks, the bike is recovered and Mark Mcgeachin, another of Glasgow Magnet Fishing’s founders, tries and fails to find the owner from its number plate.
“We’re not trying to make money out of this,” says Mark. “The scrap metal will make money but we’re not interested in making a profit. Any money we make usually goes to a charity like a food bank. We want to get the most interesting thing. Like the gun – you’re interested in where that came from.
“When something like that is pulled out, we’re all buzzing and talking about where it could have come from. Is it a murder weapon? Nothing we’ve found has been linked to a crime yet, but who knows?
“We pull out knives, swords and machetes all the time. Canals are dumping grounds for these things, and a lot more. These items all have stories. We pulled a Playstation 4 out of the water in Maryhill a couple of weeks ago – complete with controllers and plug attached. Was that a mum who finally had enough of her son not tidying his room?”
The magnet fishermen nearby erupt in laughter. Like salty sea dogs t ra d i n g t a l e s, stories of ancient Indian sabres being fished out on the last cast of the day are swapped for memories of the safe pulled from water and cracked open to reveal... nothing, because it was empty.