In the Music

A couple of nights ago Dr. Brown asked me what my favorite concert or performance has been. I began listing performances off and I realized that I was listing most of the concerts we had seen. I was honestly incapable of picking just one. Each and every performance we had seen, from the Berlin Philharmonic playing Mahler six, to the Vienna Philharmonic, to the entirety of Figaro, to the endless amount of Mozart we saw in Salzburg during Mozart week, to so many more, I simply could not pick one. Then tonight happened. I don’t think I have ever left a concert feeling as in awe and fulfilled as I did tonight. There were no words that I could string together to explain how I felt. I was overwhelmed with the realization of what we had just had the privilege of experiencing. 

The stage and the front half of the concert hall

Tonight we saw the Wiener Symphoniker (the Vienna Symphony) under the direction of Enrique Mazzola, with pianist Jasminka Stancul. Once the doors to the hall opened and we were able to go in we headed down to our row, or rather the row we thought was ours. At first we stopped at the row labeled as row number one, as our tickets had a one as our row assignment, but then we realized that the three rows in front of us were labeled as roman numerals one, two, and three. So then came the question of if the one on our tickets was a “lowercase” normal one, or if it was a roman numeral one. We asked the usher and it turned out that we were in the row roman numeral one, meaning that we were the very front row. We sat down in the row and were practically on the stage. If I were to have leaned forward and reached my arm out I could have touched the concertmasters’ shoe.  

The concert began and as soon as they played the first note I was instantly overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by sound. Overwhelmed by the orchestra’s energy. Overwhelmed by the feeling of contentment and fulfillment that filled me when their bows first glided across the strings of their instruments. We were so closed that we could hear the slight screech and the grinding sound that the bow makes when going over the stings. So close that we could see the bow bouncing ever so slightly while they played long, slow notes. So close that we could hear them breathing. So close that we were able to experience all of the little things that no one else in the audience got to experience. So close that we went from being members of the audience so nearly being members of the orchestra. We were not listening to the music they were playing, but rather we were in the music. Engulfed in the sound, the beauty, and the magic that they were creating. I sat with my neck craned up and my mouth open for the entire first piece, and then for the rest of the concert. 

The piano, which was nearly on top of us

After the first piece the orchestra cleared the stage while the piano was brought on. As they began the piano concerto the class members on either side of me and myself realized that we had the three best seats in the concert house. We were seated right in front of the Jasminka Stancul. We could see her fingers glide across the keys, we could see every movement and facial expression she made. While she was playing the rest of the concert hall melted away, the rest of the world melted away. In the roughly twenty-five minutes the piece lasted all that existed was the three of us, Jasminka, and the orchestra. In those twenty-five minutes nothing else mattered. The whole time she was playing you could see that she was utterly and completely emotionally invested and passionate about her playing. The piece ended and when she stood up she teared up. The audience erupted in applause, and after she left and came back onto stage multiple times she finally granted each audience members’ silent wish of an encore. For her encore she played the first movement of Beethoven’s moonlight sonata, arguably one of the most well-known and cliché piano solos that exists. But when she played it is was magic. She played it seamlessly, effortlessly, with her head tiled up towards the ceiling for the majority of the piece, if not for the entire piece. I don’t think her fingers ever left the piano keys, but rather glided across them. I looked back at other members of the orchestra while she was playing and found some smiling and watching her, others watching her with blank faces, in awe, and others with their eyes closed, focusing on and absorbing the music. She finished and once again the audience erupted in applause. 

The view right in front of me, showing how close the stage really was

The orchestra started the final piece and once again from the first note their sound both engulfed and filled me. Their bows began soaring and cutting through the air while their fingers flew across the strings. They played with a passion and fearlessness that I hope to someday achieve even a fraction of. When the concert ended I sat there, with my head still tilted up and my mouth still open in awe, for a moment before I began clapping. At somepoint during the applause the concertmaster, who I had just spent the past nearly two hours very close to, looked down at me and smiled, as if saying a silent thank you. We left the concert and I was on the verge of tears, tears of utter joy and fulfillment. I was speechless, still trying to fully comprehend what I had just heard, seen, experienced. We have seen many incredible concerts in the past month, however, I think that it's safe to say that the one we saw tonight is the one that I will remember the longest, it is the one that I will always think about and that will stick with me the most.