When an orchestra performs Strauss for a sitting audience, I wonder if the composer would be happy that his music is being heard at all, or perturbed that no one is dancing to what is obviously a waltz. It seems that only half the intent of a waltz composition is realized if the audience, while grandly appreciative, sits in their chairs for it. Shouldn't dance music be, well, danced to? I want to see them get up to swirl and sway as the music fills the room. Music such as this should stir one to action, to grab a nearby hand and one-two-three-one-two-three in circular rhythms. Such a shame we don't do this anymore except in obscure ballroom competitions. Strauss is not for the still. Or perhaps, on the other hand, would the composers revel in the fact that their music was large enough and full enough to be enjoyed with closed eyes and sitting bottoms, lulled away to other, unknown times? No...for me, I want to actually see the musical effects, a physical outcome of joyful listening. Music is meant to stir the feet.
Mozart makes me cry. Certain pieces I cannot get through without a tight throat and tears. Repeated listenings bring no relief. Happens every time...and ALWAYS goosebumps.
Watching the Vienna musicians as they play, I'm struck by all the older musicians. I like watching them the most. I feel somehow gratified that they've been at it so long, that music can hold on to souls for a lifetime without diminishing it's power on us. I imagine how deep and resonant their relationship with their particular instrument has become, a familiar touch of a loved one. Watching them actually perform is so pleasurable. Eyes intensely focused on the music before them, they move, an unconscious sway as they bow or blow, the music swelling and percolating inside them, making them appear as if they are barely moored to their chairs, faces aglow with effort. God, the joy. I wonder out of ten people who listen to this music, how many get goosebumps or throat gulps like I do? Is that a common experience for the normal listener? How is it possible not to?
I watch the conductor. No one ever seems to look at him. They're always looking at their music. Does he feel ignored? Is he really that necessary once they get started? LOL. I'm sure there are minute glances and a long history of familiar gestures that is second nature to them all, so watching him is long ago unnecessary. Besides, the conductor is generally so lost in the music himself...everyone is transported to their own musical nirvana.
Symphonies are like a microcosm of my imagined perfect world. Everyone's playing something different, their own part, their own instrument, but all together it's music, it's magic. The cello's don't say their music is better than the violins. The oboes don't ridicule the piccolos for the way they look or sound. They just do their part for the greater good. Brown instruments play with black, thin with fat, brash with tender. Each important, each with a role that perfectly complements the others. Oh. The music when everyone focuses on their part with fullness of joy and total lack of judgement. The fullest definition of harmony I know, both literal and figurative and I spill over with it. Today, reasons I am grateful I can hear: The Blue Danube Waltz, The Marriage of Figaro Overture, and the Hallelujah Chorus.
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Quote of the day: And there was Demo, poor wretch, slouching in a corner, coughing up little clots of envy. Joe Kinney "Blue Heaven"Chosen because I loved those particular choice of words, especially "clots of envy." Perfect pairing of words.
