The stage was resplendent. The grand piano top was propped open to reveal a polished underside reflecting every brass, silver, and gold string and bolt within. We had second row seats a smidge to the left of center-a perfect view of the pianist skating, trampolining, and hop-scotching across the keys.
When we took our seats at 7:29, almost everyone else had been seated and waiting in anticipation of hearing not one, but two maestros. Excuse me, three. The first was violinist Joshua Bell, the second was pianist Alessio Bax, and the third honored guest was the violinist's 1713 Huberman Stradivarius violin.
A moment of silence for the 300 year old violin that brought tears to its listeners.
As we waited out the ten minute courtesy, Tony read the program and I listened to the conversations surrounding.
To the right, the couple was discussing the order of the strings on a cello. To the front, each person was telling the instrument he or she played. Somewhere in the close distance, I heard a music teacher discuss something musically new she was going to introduce.
We seemed to be surrounded my music proficients--to be expected at a concert of this caliber. Tony can play the piano--minimally. I studied the harp for seven years, but haven't touched it for nine; in my childhood I'd studied piano, as a teenager, the guitar. But neither of us are...musicians.
Would we enjoy the concert any less?
I floated through Mendelssohn's Sonata, was thankful to be alive throughout Grieg's Sonata No. 3, and felt exalted listening to Brahms.
Ah, but then the encore pieces. Brahms' Hungarian Dance No. 1. Heaven--followed by Massenet's Meditation-a splendid and emotional awakening.
Did we enjoy the concert any less than the official musicians? No, I don't believe so, because we have a talent, a blessing, an art just as important and refined as years of practicing and playing an instrument.
We are appreciators.
When we took our seats at 7:29, almost everyone else had been seated and waiting in anticipation of hearing not one, but two maestros. Excuse me, three. The first was violinist Joshua Bell, the second was pianist Alessio Bax, and the third honored guest was the violinist's 1713 Huberman Stradivarius violin.
A moment of silence for the 300 year old violin that brought tears to its listeners.
As we waited out the ten minute courtesy, Tony read the program and I listened to the conversations surrounding.
To the right, the couple was discussing the order of the strings on a cello. To the front, each person was telling the instrument he or she played. Somewhere in the close distance, I heard a music teacher discuss something musically new she was going to introduce.
We seemed to be surrounded my music proficients--to be expected at a concert of this caliber. Tony can play the piano--minimally. I studied the harp for seven years, but haven't touched it for nine; in my childhood I'd studied piano, as a teenager, the guitar. But neither of us are...musicians.
Would we enjoy the concert any less?
I floated through Mendelssohn's Sonata, was thankful to be alive throughout Grieg's Sonata No. 3, and felt exalted listening to Brahms.
Ah, but then the encore pieces. Brahms' Hungarian Dance No. 1. Heaven--followed by Massenet's Meditation-a splendid and emotional awakening.
Did we enjoy the concert any less than the official musicians? No, I don't believe so, because we have a talent, a blessing, an art just as important and refined as years of practicing and playing an instrument.
We are appreciators.
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