“It sometimes seems to me as if I did not belong to this world at all.” (Franz Schubert)
Perhaps we ought to file this grab bag of thoughts under Performances I Went To. This was more than a “show,” after all.
To say I am any kind of symphony aficionado is some kind of a bold-faced lie. I can’t even read music much past what I learned as an 8th grade piano lessons dropout. But this isn’t about reading sheet music or knowing the long stories attached to composers and conductors. I can feel music, and pick up on the emotions poured into performances. This is how some of the night felt.
If you’ve not seen the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra play before and want to, go ahead and arrive 30 minutes early or more, just because. It’s then that you’ve the chance to see the dressed-to-the-nines musicians on stage laughing and enjoying one another’s company. There is chatter and pleasant buzzing and all kinds of accidental noise as they go about tuning their instruments. There is a warm kind of witnessed camaraderie. This is their calm to contrast all that comes next.
What’s more, you get to rub shoulders with the regular patrons, the ones clutching their Ziploc baggies filled up with trail mix. You pick up on someone calling out for a chaperone friend named Esther (one of those names you just don’t hear anymore). You see a cute high school-aged couple on their first date. You see old men wearing their best slacks and cabbie caps. You’re allowed the chance to step back in time some, and that’s never a bad thing.
There was a time—and there still are times—when hearing the sounds created by a symphony has meant closing my eyes straightaway. That, in turns, usually leads to one of those accidental naps while sitting up. I doubt I’m the only one it happens to. But when you go see this orchestra, try and keep your eyes open. If they’re closed, you miss out. You don’t get to witness the synchronicity, the subtle dance and flow of the collective 30+ musicians onstage. You get to see grace personified. I’m not sure I’ve always felt this way, but my takeaway is that these are nothing short of artists and experts fully deserving your respect and attention.
The premise for the evening was simple enough: the orchestra was helping “finish” one of Schubert’s final symphonies. It only has two movements, so they gave it a couple more and helped flesh it out, giving the audience more of what they came there for. Guest conductor Christopher Confessore likened it to tacking on two encores. And it worked out well for us.
While some of the Beethoven and Haydn they offered in the first half made me think of Bugs Bunny cartoons (and you can both blame and thank Mel Blanc’s Looney Tunes for that), Schubert’s Symphony No. 8 had me pulling different words out of the air. Words like “whimsical,” “compelling,” “intriguing,” even “dramatic.” These are the sounds to accompany, oh, falling off a ship at night and into the dark tempestuous sea. This is the stuff to attach itself to cliffhangers. This is the instrumental version of the phrase “you’ll never guess what happens next.”
At times, it even sounded like trapped bumblebees were escaping the cellos in droves. This music—this performance—it’s the stuff to make thoughts dance and hearts soar. It makes imaginations swell. It’s the best brand of dramatic soundtrack you could wish or hope for. The Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra created a world for me, one that might show up in a lazy daydream or in a real dream that happens at 3 in the morning.
Being part of their performance allowed for my Monday to feel a whole lot better than it had. By the end of all they offered us, I felt like I’d ice skated on clouds; which is to say I was both buoyed up and recharged. I got to replace the doldrums of a fairly common day with an unmistakable, flat-out awe. Try them on for size next time they perform. Maybe you’ll get to feel the same way.
Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra Live Review by Dainon.
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