It was a tough crowd at the Proms this bank holiday Monday. Within the opening few minutes one audience member lay on the floor and had a tantrum, a couple ran for the exit, while another loudly declared: "I want to sit with Mummy." This was, of course, the Family Prom, with the Northern Sinfonia and Stephen Bell among several groups of musicians tasked with engaging this most demanding of audiences.
The conceit was that of a musical journey. "We're taking you on a whistle-stop tour around the world," said self-styled tour guide Louise Fryer, and with a Dvořák Slavonic Dance we got off to a rousing start in Bohemia, before returning to the British countryside for Delius's On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring. My own family member (Miri, 5) liked the drums in the Dvořák and pronounced the Delius "peaceful". But with no visuals and introductory chats pitched beyond her years (saying little about the countries we were "visiting"), her interest waned. We moved to Sri Lanka for a masterclass in the veena from Hari Sivanesan; the delicate harmonies and subtleties of Kala (Time) were lost in the cavernous and increasingly restless hall. The pace picked up again for De Falla's Ritual Fire Dance, and a small girl in a red dress whirled and twirled in the arena, enjoying the heat and colours generated by the Northern Sinfonia. Then it was the turn of guitar pin-up Miloš Karadaglić, whose melancholic Adagio from Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez shimmered as if through the haze of Spanish sunshine. Final stop of the first half was France, and I was beginning to feel travel sick. Still, Bizet's Farandole was crisp and brightly played, and Miri liked "how it got louder and faster".
After the interval, the stage was a riot of colour with the Proms Family Orchestra and Chorus (youngest 4, oldest …, well, "old") here to perform Wish You Were Here, devised by the group with Ian McMillan and Jason Yarde. The performers were tight, bright and huge fun to watch. The piece is a series of musical postcards about London, from each of its corners, I heard klezmer, reggae, carnival's steel drums and bhangra among other sounds. Miri loved it, but wanted to know what the choir were singing – alas the words were mostly indistinct.
Our final stop was America's deep south. The Blind Boys of Alabama have been singing together since 1944; Jimmy Carter has been with the group since the beginning. "We sing gospel music. That's all we do. Gospel is the good news of the Lord," Carter declared in his chewy southern drawl. Their close harmonies took a while to warm up, and the intimate spiritual message of Praying Time was the last of the screeching three-point turns of this curiously awkward concert. Still, a final rousing singalong version of Down by the Riverside ensured everyone went home with a spring in their step. And Miri? "I wish I was on the stage playing my ukulele" she said. Next year, who knows?
• If you're at any Prom this summer, tweet your thoughts about it to @guardianmusic using the hashtag #proms and we'll pull what you've got to say into one of our weekly roundups – or leave your comments below.
