Soothing the Savage Beast
Or is it breast? I'm never quite sure. Shakespeareans out there, help?
Anyway, it's music of course that does the soothing, and I will just report briefly that on the spur of the moment I went to hear the New York Philharmonic tonight and was lucky enough to score a ticket in the FOURTH ROW of the orchestra through a discount I got through work. I know the very front seats are not considered prime orchestra because maybe the sound is a little better farther back or you get a better picture of the whole orchestra, but I was immeasurably happy to be sitting within I'd say fifteen feet of the first violin section and looking up at them in profile. When the guest violin soloist came on in the second half to play the Brahms D Major violin concerto, I could not have had a better view of his performance. I gazed up rapt at his fingers performing their intricate dance on the neck of the violin and at his body shifting passionately with the music, now seeming to lean almost into the conductor's podium, then suddenly pulling back toward the first violins.
I liked being so close to all the instrumentalists, seeing their faces full of pleasure and concentration, and also seeing the little glances of encouragement, acknowledgment, communion passing between conductor and players. I don't think I've ever sat so close up, and watching the conductor almost made me feel like I was in the orchestra (which I have memories of from my high school cello-playing days). I could feel my body responding, leaning forward sometimes as if it were my cue to come in.
There was a lot of drama surrounding the conductor--it was his Philharmonic debut. He seemed very young, although I suppose he could be in his 30s. He had been called in at the last minute because Dohnanyi, who was supposed to be the guest conductor for this series of concerts, was ill. I heard people complaining about that behind me before the concert started and I felt worried for the new guy. During the first piece, which was by Elliott Carter, he seemed a little cautious in his conducting and I didn't get a sense of a rapport with the orchestra, although he did give a thumbs-up to the first violist when they took their bows, which seemed sweet. But then, with the next piece, the Schumann Symphony Number 4, he went full out and I felt that the orchestra was with him totally. It was very very exciting.
And, let me not to forget to report that after the Elliott Carter piece, the composer came out to take a bow. This is Elliott Carter, who as the program says, was born in 1908! I kept trying to do the math, thinking, no, it can't be, and then finally I turned to my neighbor, a nice polite elderly (well, perhaps in his 70s) gentleman, and said, "He's 98 years old!" My neighbor said, "yes, isn't it wonderful."
So it all seemed very poignant, this young conductor getting his start with the Philharmonic, getting to not only conduct a piece by a giant of 20th-century music, but to appear on stage with him in his fragile old age. Although I have to say, Carter looked very hale and healthy, not a bit fragile.
Very invigorating evening all in all. And I am pleased to have done something nice for myself and to have been so close--in every sense--to the music.
Anyway must go, this was to be a short one. It's hard to write quickly and also write, I don't know, distinctively or carefully. But I am trying to leave room for sleep so that my life is not ruled by fatigue and I can get things done that I need to.
More later.
3/03: Edited to add this link to a review of the concert.
Anyway, it's music of course that does the soothing, and I will just report briefly that on the spur of the moment I went to hear the New York Philharmonic tonight and was lucky enough to score a ticket in the FOURTH ROW of the orchestra through a discount I got through work. I know the very front seats are not considered prime orchestra because maybe the sound is a little better farther back or you get a better picture of the whole orchestra, but I was immeasurably happy to be sitting within I'd say fifteen feet of the first violin section and looking up at them in profile. When the guest violin soloist came on in the second half to play the Brahms D Major violin concerto, I could not have had a better view of his performance. I gazed up rapt at his fingers performing their intricate dance on the neck of the violin and at his body shifting passionately with the music, now seeming to lean almost into the conductor's podium, then suddenly pulling back toward the first violins.
I liked being so close to all the instrumentalists, seeing their faces full of pleasure and concentration, and also seeing the little glances of encouragement, acknowledgment, communion passing between conductor and players. I don't think I've ever sat so close up, and watching the conductor almost made me feel like I was in the orchestra (which I have memories of from my high school cello-playing days). I could feel my body responding, leaning forward sometimes as if it were my cue to come in.
There was a lot of drama surrounding the conductor--it was his Philharmonic debut. He seemed very young, although I suppose he could be in his 30s. He had been called in at the last minute because Dohnanyi, who was supposed to be the guest conductor for this series of concerts, was ill. I heard people complaining about that behind me before the concert started and I felt worried for the new guy. During the first piece, which was by Elliott Carter, he seemed a little cautious in his conducting and I didn't get a sense of a rapport with the orchestra, although he did give a thumbs-up to the first violist when they took their bows, which seemed sweet. But then, with the next piece, the Schumann Symphony Number 4, he went full out and I felt that the orchestra was with him totally. It was very very exciting.
And, let me not to forget to report that after the Elliott Carter piece, the composer came out to take a bow. This is Elliott Carter, who as the program says, was born in 1908! I kept trying to do the math, thinking, no, it can't be, and then finally I turned to my neighbor, a nice polite elderly (well, perhaps in his 70s) gentleman, and said, "He's 98 years old!" My neighbor said, "yes, isn't it wonderful."
So it all seemed very poignant, this young conductor getting his start with the Philharmonic, getting to not only conduct a piece by a giant of 20th-century music, but to appear on stage with him in his fragile old age. Although I have to say, Carter looked very hale and healthy, not a bit fragile.
Very invigorating evening all in all. And I am pleased to have done something nice for myself and to have been so close--in every sense--to the music.
Anyway must go, this was to be a short one. It's hard to write quickly and also write, I don't know, distinctively or carefully. But I am trying to leave room for sleep so that my life is not ruled by fatigue and I can get things done that I need to.
More later.
3/03: Edited to add this link to a review of the concert.
posted by Sarah Sometimes at 11:18 PM
3 Comments:
Very nice description, Sarah! I wish I had a greater appreciation for a wider range of classical music. It's a language I don't yet fully understand. Same thing with jazz. Some of it makes perfect sense, other pieces require a translator.
Musicians in the family are always telling me that I should sit in the balcony for the symphony but I love sitting up in the very front for just the reasons you describe.
Wow, that sounds like a fantastic experience. I miss being in New York precisely for moments like these.
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