Walking into the auditorium is an elegant experience within itself. Velvet seats of a rich, crimson shade greet guests as they scramble to find their designated row. The ceiling is vast, cascading over the stage as if it had been draped like a curtain. Black foldable chairs line the stage, empty, awaiting their occupants patiently. Soon the space will be filled with a captivating presence that can be seen, but also heard.
Chatter amongst the audience members hums along as the stage begins to fill up with pressed tuxedos and costly musical instruments. The occasional stroke of a bow on a violin or a puff on the flute emerges from the bustle of musicians finding their seats. Soon enough, a hush befalls the room as a nicely groomed man makes his way across the stage-- the First Violinist. Applause immediately follows as he offers a courteous bow and takes his proper position.
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Then silence. Everyone is on the same page. There is no introduction, just a patient reverence for who is to come next. The conductor emerges swiftly from the side door, smiling as he is immediately greeted by thunderous applause. He bows, and without saying a word, begins leading the orchestra into a beautiful rendition of The Star Spangled Banner. A perfectly balanced harmony saturates the theater and guests are singing the words to the anthem proudly. The power of the instruments in tandem is nothing short of majestic, for the music reverberates off of every surface only magnifying its sound-- an exquisite experience.
The concert commences with a brief exit and re-entrance of the conductor (which is customary between each work). Taking his position in front of the orchestra, he leads them into the first number. It is rather easy to focus on just one musician or let one's eyes wander around the stage. If close enough, there is the opportunity to watch the performers' various facial expressions: concentrated, serious, relaxed, enraptured, appreciative. Some sit rather still while others put their entire body into it. A knowing glance is shared between the first and second violinist as they fervently follow the conductor's commands. It is as if there is an unspoken language that they all possess once they begin that keeps them perfectly in tune with each other.
As the music swells, people begin to lose themselves in it. Eyes close or remain defiantly open, afraid to blink, afraid to miss even the slightest detail. Everyone experiences a sort of reverie. Perhaps one's mind may wander to a far off place, away from the theater and it's occupants. For two hours the individuals in the audience will surrender all prior obligations and listen to one of the purest forms of communication.
During intermission, a piano is moved to center stage. In gold lettering on the side it reads Steinway & Sons. It wears no jewelry, sports no fur coat, yet it is the most regal object in the room. As the musicians file back into their respective spots, it becomes clear that the piano and its player will be the focal point of the show. From the moment he sits down to the moment his fingertips press the keys, he captivates every person in the room. Not one sheet of music sits in front of him-- for an hour he plays remotely from memory. Fellow members of the orchestra take the time to watch him in full appreciation as his fingers flow effortlessly across the keyboard.
There is a break. A moment of silence between pieces. Not a word is spoken, not even a token cough from an embarrassed audience member. Everyone just waits. And then the final score is played. Winds are blaring, percussion is booming, and the strings sing to bows with frayed hair. The masterpiece ebbs and flows like waves against a shoreline as the tension builds to a powerful crescendo. And with several precise motions, the conductor brings it home.
The spell is broken and the audience is brought to its feet. The conductor and the pianist embrace for several moments, no words spoken, just a mutual gratification for their trade.
The evening has come to a close; everyone exits the theater, musicians pack up their instruments, and everybody heads home. But the music doesn't stop. Those who play it don't stop playing, and those who listen will never forget.
A special thank you to the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra for treating this millennial child to such an enriching experience.
