Week 35
Here we go again…
HAYDN Symphony No. 101 (The Clock)
INTERMISSION
SHOSTAKOVICH Symphony No. 4
Bernard Haitink, conductor
RAVEL Menuet antique
LIEBERSON Neruda Songs
INTERMISSION
MAHLER Symphony No. 1
Kelley O’Connor, mezzo-soprano
Bernard Haitink, conductor
Monday
off
Tuesday
7:30 concert (Haydn/Shostakovich)
Wednesday
travel to New York
Thursday
12-2:30 rehearsal
8 concert
Friday
11-1:30 rehearsal
8 concert
Saturday
travel to [the city where we live]
Sunday
off
Yes, we are in New York again, I guess because each of our conductors gets a separate tour.
With two music director surrogates, the orchestra is comparable to the child with a pair of elderly doting uncles, each offering a clandestine trip to the corner ice-cream parlor. The child of course would say nothing, aiming a conspiratorial wink at the counter-man, surprised to see him back so soon. So the following will I am sure generate some displeasure, along the lines of the child getting a kick in the shins from a little nephew when, grabbing uncle Bernie’s sleeve, he tries to explain that uncle Pierre just treated them to ice-cream cones an hour ago.
As much as I like free trips here and there, sometimes I wonder why we do it. I’m also worrying more and more about carbon footprints lately. Even with the lavish expense accounts they surely demand, it might prove cheaper and more environmentally friendly to fly a handful of New York critics to come hear us at home. The notion Carnegie Hall ticket buyers are somehow more important to impress than our local audience may or may not be true, but it’s a little condescending. Instead of taking the dog and pony show on the road, maybe we could have offered our subscribers a third week of Haitink concerts.
The New York concerts seemed to be well received, so maybe it was worthwhile after all. Carnegie’s live acoustic created a few scary ensemble moments. In spite of its stellar reputation I’ve often had trouble hearing myself onstage there. A colleague sitting directly beside our section pronounced the basses ‘inaudible’ which, perhaps out of paranoia, I couldn’t help but think was uttered with a sense of relief.
HAYDN Symphony No. 101 (The Clock)
INTERMISSION
SHOSTAKOVICH Symphony No. 4
Bernard Haitink, conductor
RAVEL Menuet antique
LIEBERSON Neruda Songs
INTERMISSION
MAHLER Symphony No. 1
Kelley O’Connor, mezzo-soprano
Bernard Haitink, conductor
Monday
off
Tuesday
7:30 concert (Haydn/Shostakovich)
Wednesday
travel to New York
Thursday
12-2:30 rehearsal
8 concert
Friday
11-1:30 rehearsal
8 concert
Saturday
travel to [the city where we live]
Sunday
off
Yes, we are in New York again, I guess because each of our conductors gets a separate tour.
With two music director surrogates, the orchestra is comparable to the child with a pair of elderly doting uncles, each offering a clandestine trip to the corner ice-cream parlor. The child of course would say nothing, aiming a conspiratorial wink at the counter-man, surprised to see him back so soon. So the following will I am sure generate some displeasure, along the lines of the child getting a kick in the shins from a little nephew when, grabbing uncle Bernie’s sleeve, he tries to explain that uncle Pierre just treated them to ice-cream cones an hour ago.
As much as I like free trips here and there, sometimes I wonder why we do it. I’m also worrying more and more about carbon footprints lately. Even with the lavish expense accounts they surely demand, it might prove cheaper and more environmentally friendly to fly a handful of New York critics to come hear us at home. The notion Carnegie Hall ticket buyers are somehow more important to impress than our local audience may or may not be true, but it’s a little condescending. Instead of taking the dog and pony show on the road, maybe we could have offered our subscribers a third week of Haitink concerts.
The New York concerts seemed to be well received, so maybe it was worthwhile after all. Carnegie’s live acoustic created a few scary ensemble moments. In spite of its stellar reputation I’ve often had trouble hearing myself onstage there. A colleague sitting directly beside our section pronounced the basses ‘inaudible’ which, perhaps out of paranoia, I couldn’t help but think was uttered with a sense of relief.
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