Close for Comfort

Alps View from the Fortress 

I take the Amtrak train to get from Tacoma to Portland all the time, so these long train rides to various cities haven’t bothered me much. There’s something beautiful about watching the world pass by when traveling. Watching the scenery change from urban to rural and slowly to the next city. I always plan on being productive on a train ride but it never happens. I find that staring out the window, thinking about a million other things is more entertaining to pass the time. As we traveled back to Vienna, it really occurred to me just how fast this trip has gone. I feel both so ready and not ready to go back. I’m reminded of all the wonderful things I’ve done between first landing in Vienna to go back to the city. I really don’t know what I’m going to do over the next forty-eight hours in Vienna. I feel as though I’m conflicted between needing to do everything and not wanting to do anything at all. I still need to write blog posts, repack all my stuff and, really, I’m too poor to do anything besides provide meals. Thus far, I’ve spent the majority of the day trying to get over my cold because the worst thing I could possibly think of is a ten hour flight with congestion. Colby, Janelle, Abby and I are going out in a bit to go souvenir shopping with what little money we have left and then plan to revisit some of our favorite restaurants that we enjoyed our first time here. 

Performers crave audience attention. It’s the whole reason for having a concert, isn’t it? Being able to see all the people who came builds up anticipation for a concert and pushes us to do the very best we can. What if I that audience member was only a few inches from you, though? And I mean, like close enough to touch you. Well that’s me tonight, folks. If I were to stretch out my hand only a few feet, I could feasibly grab one of the violinists legs. I wouldn’t, of course, but there’s always the potential. 

Mirabell Gardens 

I honestly can’t imagine having someone sit that close to me during a concert. Not that I’m any expert in the pieces we’re hearing tonight—because I’m not—but knowing that people would very clearly see or hear my mistakes is an unnerving idea. Musicians are often told to just “keep playing” whenever you make a mistake and because of that attitude, we’re programmed to have a sort of poker face when it comes to performance; to keep our composure when it all goes awry.   It’s something I’ve practiced—I can’t think of a performance where I wasn’t spending the majority of the time thinking about how to not react when I messed up. This concert was different though. The performers were very visibly not shaken by the audience or by the gold trims of the room. The focus was on the music. Being sick, during the majority of the performance, I couldn’t breathe out of one nostril so I felt bad not being able to enjoy it to it’s full extent. At the end of the piano concerto, the soloist, Jasminca Stancul, did an encore of one of my favorite pieces Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. The piece was a staple of my childhood—but not the way you think. For one of my birthdays—maybe it was Christmas—my mother got me this book called Beethoven’s Wig. It was this children’s book that came with a CD of classical songs set to silly poems. With the exception of the title track “Beethoven’s Wig” set to Beethoven’s 5th Symphony, my other favorite piece was “Beep Beep” set to the Moonlight Sonata. I’ll put a link below. This concert reached me in a more personal sense than I really thought it would. I didn’t plan on hearing this piece and it just happened. The little things are so wonderful in performances, aren’t they. 

Tomorrow is a packing day. Oh boy, to widdle down all of my stuff and shove it all into three bags will be a challenge. Wish me luck! And watch out for my next few posts! I’m excited to write them.